Her wavy chestnut hair fell loosely around her heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes were betwixt with flecks of green. Hannibal couldn't help thinking what a lovely specimen Eliza Braden was, her womanly form begged to be tasted. 'Perhaps someday' Hannibal thought, a polite smile sprouting on his lips as he shrugged out of his jacket. Her velvety voice carried through the air, bidding him welcome, as she extended a hand. Her smile was genuine, but Hannibal could sense the confusion seeping through her pores as his palm embraced hers. "The pleasure is all mine Ms. Braden." Hannibal declared, raising her wrist to his lips. Her scent sizzled throughout Hannibal's being, although she wore no perfume. As Eliza gestured to the ottoman, Hannibal deduced she used a sensual body wash, likely jasmine. Sitting down opposite Eliza, he regarded her wardrobe. Her black skirt clung past her knees, her navy blouse was mostly hidden behind a silver-buttoned black business jacket.

Eliza's nimble fingers combed over the silver buttons of her jacket self-consciously, as she cast a quickened glance around her office. Every book was perfectly nestled on the shelf, the wooden floor had been freshly polished that very morning and the faint aroma of lemon could still be distinguished. Her eyes revolved onto Hannibal Lecter as he sat down. Her heart was fluxing with nervous energy as she studied him. His dark eyes were flat, yielding little emotion. Eliza had seen many such as his, a clear sign of PTSD. Yet something about Hannibal's cool demeanor gnawed at her. He was dressed as an esteemed gentleman should dress, although it was rare to encounter such a man these days. His silk-brown suit was tailor-made, his tie was tan paisley atop an orange background.

Aware that Hannibal was assessing her just as much as Eliza was him, she forced a smile and reclined in her leather chair."I must admit, I am surprised you sought my counsel Dr. Lecter. As I'm sure you know, my patients are typically female...also I've rarely advised someone has survived a near-death experience." Eliza began. Euphoria

"That has not always been the case. It was through word-of-mouth that you aided several soldiers fresh from the war, half of which were male. Surely a few of them faced death on the battlefield." Hannibal remarked. In truth, Eliza's professional accomplishments were minimal, though significant for someone in her early thirties. Hannibal being counseled was a necessary nuisance, but he had decided after the failure with his previous therapist, that he would chose his next one more carefully. It was Eliza's private history that had drawn Hannibal to her, and it was in his best interests to exploit the dark secret she held.

"Yes. But even you must admit, I am a curious choice for a counselor. I would not call myself unseasoned, but I do lack the same prestige as my peers..."

"You are used to be looking down upon. You personal merit is such that you worry I will judge your professional etiquette..."

"I worry that I may not be the best choice, Dr. Lecter. It would've been impersonal, to tell you over the phone." Eliza responded, sitting forward in an effort to get her point across.

"It would be equally improper for you to refuse me as a patient." Hannibal retorted evenly.

Running a finger along her chin in an effort to gracefully scratch an itch, Eliza was silent as she stared at Hannibal in thought."...What if I were to tell you that I don't think you need to see a PTSD specialist?" she asked.

"I would be curious as to what reasoning you used to reach such a conclusion." Hannibal answered.

"How much time has passed since your encounter?"

"Four days."

"And your would-be murderer, slit your wrists and had a noose around your neck...am I wrong?" Eliza pressed.

"No, you are correct." Hannibal prompted.

Eliza's gaze dropped from Hannibal's face onto his throat. "Someone who had nearly been hung, would have terrible anxiety about ties for some time." she stated, coaxing a smile out of Hannibal. "You appear perfectly as ease."

"Those that grovel on the past, are incapable of embracing the future as they should." Hannibal said simply. "I imagine you understand this better than anyone."

"Why do you say that?"

"The incident that befell you, that which propelled you to change your doctrine..."

A smile of dread had creased Eliza's lips. "Is that why you're here? You hoped to enter my establishment as a patient, and exit as my doctor?" she asked crudely.

Hannibal answered nonchalantly. "There was a note in your file about your refusal of therapy. You felt no one would understand. Few people have tasted blood that is not their own...fewer still have had human flesh clotted in their teeth."

"What happened, happened almost five years ago." Eliza snapped.

"You are nearing an anniversary date...and on the eve of your anniversary, your rapist will be set free. A cruel joke from the correctional system." Hannibal responded, amused by the leer that Eliza had fastened onto her face.

Eliza heaved a sigh as she stood from her chair, running an absentminded hand down her skirt to waylay any wrinkles. "Yes, I am well aware. I think it's time you leave Dr. Lecter." she announced.

Hannibal gazed up at her. "Of course. But first I'd like to ask if you would join me for dinner tomorrow evening." he replied.

"Are you joking?" Eliza blurted bitterly.

"Not at all." Hannibal said simply.

"I've no interest in your help, I need no help." Eliza stated coldly.

Hannibal rose from his seat. "You have taken into consideration Ike Ryan has put out a restraining order on you...?" he replied with an implication. "An unnecessary precaution given how much bodybuilding he pursued while behind bars." he added, slipping his hand into his pocket as he strolled towards the door.

"If Ike wants revenge on the harpy that tore out his throat, what possible aid could you provide me – FBI detail?" Eliza scoffed.

"Mm. You refer to yourself as a harpy." Hannibal mused, shrugging into his jacket. "An interesting analogy."

"You didn't answer my question." Eliza said flatly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"If it is an answer you seek, come to dinner. As I understand it, you have shared meals with your patients before. Why should I be any different?" Hannibal responded coyly.

"When I dined with my patients, it was for their betterment." Eliza stubbornly replied.

"You are a very selfless woman, Ms. Braden. Devoted to your craft, just as I am. Where we differ, I take it upon myself to indulge as I see fit – when was the last time you did something for your own benefit?" Hannibal said smoothly.

Hannibal left then, as quietly and composed as when he had first laid eyes on Eliza.

Eliza who had been a jotted bundle of nerves when Hannibal arrived, was consumed by a raw sense of euphoria and intrigue.