Who Are You (Really?) hannibal x dead plate

1/7

Rody felt his feet skid on the floor as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. A litany of curses filled his head as he frantically checked his watch. I have to be in Quantico in 15 minutes . Vincent had held him late showing him his latest dish, deer tartare topped with a quail egg, where do you even get deer? The beautifully plated tartare turned into a weird slush in his backpack, and just as he went to hop onto his Vespa, it sputtered and died. To try to revive the motorcycle, he attempted to hit the side with his heel. All the key did was spark in the ignition. So, Rody had to make a run for it home.

The cherry on top was getting a call from Jack just as he was frantically untying his shoes, hands fumbling, he answered the phone,

"We have a new case, we're hoping you could be in the lab in 10," Jack said tersely, leaving no room for complaint.

"Yeah, yeah of course"

Rody took what might be the fastest shower ever, checking his watch, panicking as every minute seemed to pass by slightly faster than the last. Stumbling, he reached blindly into his questionably clean pile of clothes. The haste resulted in a ratty flannel, with a stain of fish guts on the right cuff, and a pair of washed jeans.

Rody walked through the doors of Quantico with 30 seconds to spare,

"Now, Jack, what do you need me so urgently for..."

His voice trailed off as he saw what, or who was on the evidence table. He drew a breath. She was the sixth victim in the last two months and just the same as the five before her; wind-chafed, plain but pretty with auburn hair, trademark Minnesota Shrike. Jack continued his spiel,

"We need you on the case, you're the best we have,"

Rody wrought his clammy hands,

"I can do this, but this is the last one, I have a life outside of this,"

Jack nodded,

"This will be the last one," He put his hand on his heart, "Scout's Honor"

He said that the last five times, Rody could only sigh as he preemptively mourned the next nights of sleep.