Had a thought while watching Hannibal today, this is the result.
I own nothing. I wish I was clever enough to come up with these characters.
Bedelia was saying something, but Hannibal wasn't listening. He was distracted, as he had been for the better part of their hour, by her perfume: an intoxicating mixture of lime, mahogany, and vanilla. It wasn't so much that he couldn't put a name to the particular perfume, what bothered him was that she was wearing perfume in general. Bedelia, though he had not noticed it until today, because today she was wearing it, never wore perfume during their sessions. Hannibal was going through an extensive mental list of reasons she could be wearing such a scent when his thoughts were interrupted by Bedelia's voice.
"Hannibal?" He looked over at her, and she was staring at him with her electric blue eyes and one arched eyebrow.
"I'm sorry I was momentarily distracted."
"Yes, you've been 'momentarily distracted' for the better part of the hour." Hannibal felt a little ashamed, until he noticed his colleague's tiny smirk. Then he just felt sheepish. "Perhaps we'll end a bit early today," she suggested, closing her notepad.
"Perhaps that's best," Hannibal sighed, "I am feeling a bit under the weather." Attempting to come up with a plausible reason to why Bedelia was wearing perfume and the sheer foreignness of the scent in her home was giving him quite the headache.
"I'll get you a glass of water." Hannibal nodded in thanks and she walked out of the room towards the kitchen.
Hannibal stood and began to look around the sitting room. There was nothing personal of Bedelia's in the room, save for a few photos. One of herself and her mother and siblings, one of her deceased sister, and one of a small child. The child, who was a boy who looked to be about two months old in the picture, had always been a source of intrigue for Hannibal. He could not deduce who the child was on his own, so he asked Bedelia once. She shrugged off the question, simply stating that he was her godson, but if Hannibal was anything, he was perceptive. He saw the way her jaw had clenched and her spine had stiffened when he asked the question, saw the glimmer of sadness in her eyes when she spoke about him. Hannibal didn't know who this child was, but one does not develop that kind of sadness from missing a mere godson. He was much more important to Bedelia than she was letting on, and this only furthered Hannibal's curiosity.
Suddenly there was the sound of the front door opening down the hall. Hannibal was sure Bedelia hadn't scheduled another patient for today, mostly because he was her only patient. He distinctly remembered her locking the door after he arrived, so whoever this visitor was had a key. He knew she was not married, and he knew her mother never visited without calling before she left her house. There had been no such call, so Hannibal assumed that this visitor, or intruder, was coming unannounced.
Hannibal looked around the room for something to fight with. He saw only a fire poker on the other side of the room, leaning on the fireplace. There wouldn't be time to get to it if the intruder had a gun. Stepping back with one foot and crouching slightly, Hannibal prepared for hand-to-hand combat, only to be surprised when a deep voice called out "Hello?" Surely someone who was trying to rob a house would not call out to see if anyone was home.
Hannibal straightened up just as the man walked into the sitting room. He looked to be in his fifties, tall, easily 6'3", with dark hair that was unusually thick for a man his age. He wore a suit and tie, like he's been at work all day. When he saw Hannibal he looked confused for a moment, but his confusion was quickly replaced by a look of faulty relaxation. Hannibal could see the confusion in his eyes, along with something else, protectiveness? Perhaps... but it seemed to more more like jealousy. Hannibal couldn't help but wonder what this man was jealous about.
"Hello," the man stretched out his hand, "I'm Fox Mulder."
Hannibal thought that Fox was a very peculiar name, although he had no room to talk. He shook the man's hand. He had a firm grip, like someone who'd introduced himself thousands of times. "Hannibal Lecter." Something about this Mulder seemed so familiar to Hannibal, but he couldn't place it. "Have we met before, Mr. Mulder?"
"No, I don't believe so. I think I would remember meeting someone with a name like Hannibal." Hannibal was ready to defend himself, but then saw that Mulder was smiling - he was joking. Apparently living your entire life with a name like Fox gave you quite a sense of humor about names.
"I am sure I've heard your name before."
"Well I can't tell you where, Mr. Lecter." Mulder seemed to be very good-natured, although there was still something in his eye, a distrust and a wariness of sorts.
Bedelia had been listening to the exchange between the two men from around the corner. When she had heard Mulder's voice she nearly dropped Hannibal's glass of water, but she caught herself and hid in time to hear the two men's conversation. Her eyed widened when Hannibal stated that he had heard Mulder's name before, knowing he worked closely with the FBI. She was sure they were found out, that she would lose him as a client. The thought was slightly appealing to her, but she also like Hannibal and was intrigued by the way he closed his mind off from her. She didn't want to lose that. So when the awkward silence after Mulder's statement began, she gave it a few seconds and then rounded the corner.
"Here you are, Hannibal - oh! I see you've met Mr. Mulder." She feigned surprise as she handed Hannibal the glass and stood between the two men. Mulder had that protective look in his eye, the one she found adorable, but now was not the time to swoon. "Mr. Mulder is another old patient of mine." Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. She had taken care of Mulder's many injuries on several occasions, physical and psychological.
"I did not know others had as little regard for your retirement as I do," Hannibal joked, lightening the air a bit.
"Yes, well, Mr. Mulder is a former patient, one who still comes around for coffee when things get difficult." Bedelia gave Mulder a quick look and found him smiling at her. She quickly smiled back, giving him a look of pure affection.
This exchange was very fast, but it was not missed by Hannibal. He finally understood the reason for the perfume. "Well, it seems that my hour has been up for quite some time. Bedelia, I will see you next week, Mr. Mulder, it was a pleasure to meet you," he shook Mulder's hand again and, as Bedelia went to walk him to the door, told her "I can show myself out, really. Enjoy your coffee." He placed his glass of water on a coaster on the coffee table then walked out of the room.
Bedelia smiled and said goodbye. As Hannibal was walking to the door, he was racking his brains for where he heard the name 'Fox Mulder' before. He was not a patient he had seen in the ER, no, he would remember that; he was not a former patient, of course not; he had the striking feeling that this Mulder had something to do with the FBI. Hannibal's curiosity was at its peak when he reached the front door. So much so, that he decided to stay a little longer. He opened the door for a few seconds, then shut it again, slipping off his shoes as he did so.
He crept back toward the sitting room where Bedelia and Mulder were talking, and he looked for a good hiding place where he could hear everything they were saying. He decided the same corner that, unbeknownst to him, had been occupied by Bedelia just moments before. Shoes in hand, hidden in the shadows, Hannibal listened.
" - could have known, Mulder, he works with the FBI!" Bedelia was frustrated with her partner. That's what he was, even after all these years. Still her partner.
"All he said was that he heard my name before. And let's be honest, who in the FBI doesn't talk about Spooky Mulder and the Ice Queen?" Mulder smiled that goofy smile that he knows melts her every time.
"I just don't know what Hannibal would do if he found out the truth. I don't want to risk it, though, I enjoy our sessions."
"Scully, if the only reason I can't be home on Tuesday nights is because you want to talk to another shrink, then why not tell him who we really are and let him psychoanalyze me all he wants?"
"It's not about you, Mulder! It's about him. There's something about him, something he represses, something dangerous. It's intriguing. And I can't have you profiling him. You'd come up with something like he's that Chesapeake killer or something."
Mulder just looked at Scully. He love when she got frustrated with him, it was so cute. She was going off about how maybe he needs to be profiling people, that he should stop going out every day and trying to be a teacher, but he wasn't listening.
"Mulder, are you listening to me?"
"God, what is it with you men and not listening to me today? Langley wouldn't let me get two words out at lunch, Hannibal was distracted by something for our whole session, and now you're paying more attention to my hair than to what I'm saying." No response. "Hellloooo?"
"You should dye it red again."
"Mulder the whole point of me being blonde is so that less people will recognize me."
"Yeah but I like it red."
Scully just rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, leading him into the kitchen for dinner.
In the shadows, Hannibal watched the couple pass. Right. Fox Mulder. Spooky. The alien-obsessed FBI agent who ran the X Files in the 90s. He had had a partner named Dana Scully. Hannibal remembered stumbling upon one of their case files while in Will's office and being interested in their story when he asked Jack about it later. The two had apparently been in hiding for quite some time, but had then been asked to consult on one last case, after which they completely disappeared for five years. After that, Mulder popped up as a Professor of Psychology at the local University, but Scully was never heard from. When asked, Mulder simply didn't answer any questions about her.
So Hannibal was not the only one keeping secrets. As he made his way back to the front door, he decided to keep this to himself and continue their weekly sessions because, after all, he thought Bedelia, Scully, whatever her name was, to be even more interesting than ever before.