NEAR TO CLARENCE HOUSE

"Why are we walking over here, anyways?" Will asked. "We've already been to the crime scene, and anyways that's pretty far away. I think. St. Bart's is pretty far as well."

"For someone who's known as an incredible empath, you're remarkably dull in these average situations," Sherlock sighed.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed, somewhat shocked by how he was acting. For the most part, Sherlock seemed to tolerate Will's "inferiority" rather well, but occasionally he would just snap - and he was nothing short of cruel when he snapped.

Luckily, Will didn't seem to mind. He wasn't exactly used to being bashed just for being himself, but he was learning to ignore it. He found that truly it was the only way to get around being with Sherlock.

He most certainly preferred John's company - but it seemed like now that he was back from the honeymoon, Sherlock and him did not split. You would have thought that they had been the two who had gotten married.

"I just want to know why we're walking over here," Will said. "I can't think of anything close by that is of interest."

"Maybe we should just let it go," John sighed. He found that Will and Sherlock bickered almost as much as the latter did with Mycroft.

The thing was, it was difficult to call what Will did bickering. While Sherlock seemed to be up and ready for a fight of sorts at any time, Will just seemed to be raising up shields in order to lower the amount of damage given to him.

"Fine," Sherlock said. "If you really must know, we're here because I'm trying to regain my sense of London."

"Regain your sense of London," Will repeated.

"After being gone for two years, you find that you lose even your basic instincts about a city. I have to get them back. It is absolutely necessary for my line of work."

John and Will shared a look - neither one was quite sure why they had to be there in order for Sherlock to be able to process London better. Unfortunately enough for them, they just had to keep going along with it all. There was nothing else they could really do.

"How far are we from Baker Street?" Will asked.

"Far enough that we're going to need to hire a car," John answered. "We'll probably be able to head back soon. At least, I hope."

"John, no need to fret over any of this. I know how impatient you get when it comes to mundane things like this, but -"

"Sherlock, it doesn't matter. Will and I will make it through this," John replied, sighing slightly. "It won't be very enjoyable, mind you, but we'll make it through it."

The trio continued on in near silence for a little longer, until suddenly Will stopped in his tracks. He had met eyes with another man walking along the street, causing his face to light up with shocked recognition. This man was none other than Hannibal Lecter. They made their way to one another in order to speak.

"Dr. Lecter?" Will asked. "You're here in London, too?"

"Why yes, I am," Hannibal replied. "I must admit, it is quite a surprise to be seeing you here. I've had some business to take care of in the area."

"Oh?"

"Family affairs, Will. I'm sure you must be able to sympathesise with that."

Will nodded slightly, the moment of thought allowing him to remember that he had two companions that Hannibal had never met before. He had to continue to be aware of his manners, after all. He wouldn't want to do anything to displease Dr. Lecter, who was one of the most polite people he knew.

"I'm working on a case with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, who are behind me," he said, gesturing out to them. Hannibal moved forwards in order to speak to them, the tips of his lips turning up.

"The name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter," he began.

"Doctor John Watson," John replied, putting a smile on his face. It seemed like he had been meeting a whole host of interesting new people lately - even though this wasn't exactly the case. But after the monotony of the typical police force on cases set in, Will had been a welcome new face. Hannibal was similar in this way, he felt.

As the two doctors shook hands, there was a strange silence around the area. John figured it out rather quickly - Sherlock hadn't made a single noise. Instead of speaking, he was staring straight out at Hannibal.

Sherlock was too far inside the confines of his mind to seem to notice what was going on. At the moment, he was going over the minimal amount of facts he had on Hannibal Barca and seeing if he could apply any to the man standing in front of him. He couldn't help but think that his name was just a bit too strange to be his birth name.

"Sherlock," John said, trying not to snap. "Be polite." He felt like he was trying to get a shy child to speak - except Sherlock wasn't exactly what he would define as shy. The childish part, on the other hand, was something he could stand behind.

Sherlock either didn't hear John at first or was ignoring him, as he continued staring straight ahead for several more moments. But suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped within him, he placed a large smile on his face and reached out his hand to shake Hannibal's.

"The name is Sherlock Holmes," he said. "Very pleased to meet you."

Will and John shared a look of disbelief. This was nothing like the Sherlock they knew - he had to be putting on a show of some sort. They had never taken the man for much of an actor, but it seemed that there was more to him than what they had experienced, as strange as that was.

Hannibal stepped back from the group, looking out over all of them as if he were contemplating what he was about to say next.

"Now that we have met, I believe we should have dinner together. It is somewhat of a custom of mine - even though I do not live here, my temporary residence should suffice for a dinner party."

"We've hardly met," Sherlock replied, letting out a slight laugh. "Shouldn't we get to know one another a bit better before going to your home?"

"You have a point there, Mr. Holmes," Hannibal said. "But that is precisely why I wish to have the dinner party. I believe that eating with someone else is one of the best ways to learn more about them."

"Then we'll be there," Sherlock decided, not letting anyone else have a say in the matter. He seemed just about ready to end the conversation and walk away, but John cut in.

"Sorry, may I ask a question?" John asked.

"Of course," Hannibal answered.

"May I bring my wife along with me?" he said. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to come along."

"I don't see why not," Hannibal replied. He then turned to look at Sherlock and Will as he said, "If either of you wish to bring anyone along, I believe it would be fine."

"No, I think we're good," Will said.

"Then it's a date."

- - - - -

Hannibal set up his dinner table carefully, making sure not to miss any details. This was what always made his parties so successful - he didn't let anything escape his mind. He focused, instead, on the things that others would typically just ignore. The creases in each cloth were just as important as how many chairs he had, for example.

He had been working on the dinner for quite a while - the meat was fresh, he was glad to say. Hannibal was glad to have escaped from the confines of his older brother's home, if only for a few days. He definitely felt significantly freer. Living with his brother made it feel like he was in a prison, even though it was a nice house.

He was aware that Charles' eyes were always looking down on him, though. Since Charles had found this temporary home for him to reside in, it was obvious that he would have installed cameras and microphones in order to watch Hannibal in everything he did.

If Hannibal had put his mind to it, he could have gone around and found each and every bugging device and destroyed it. The hairs on the back of his neck always stood up when he knew Charles was watching him, whether it was through his glasses or through a screen.

But he knew that if he were to do such a thing, Charles would find out quickly. He always did, after all. If he found out that Hannibal had done such a thing, he would exercise his blackmailing powers mercilessly. It didn't matter if his older brother preferred not to get his hands dirty - there were too many threats hanging over his head for him to ever feel safe.

In order to get thoughts of Charles out of his head, Hannibal decided to focus on this dinner. His guests would be arriving soon. Whether or not they had experienced one of his dinner parties before, he was going to be sure to give them a night they could not forget. He had found that this typically tended to happen, whether it was because of his food or the conversation that ensued.

His dinner guests would be arriving any minute now. He expected them all to arrive at approximately the same time. After all, Sherlock and John seemed to be best friends. John was bringing his wife, and Sherlock and Will had been spending quite a bit of time together. In this way they were all closely connected.

Perhaps it was not in his guests' best interests to be together in Hannibal's temporary home. With Charles watching above, they were bound to end up revealing all sorts of weak points. This had not been the intention of having the dinner party to begin with, but it was certainly a major side effect.

Hannibal wasn't going to be able to get rid of Charles' omniescent gaze over his move and the actions of all of his guests. But he would most certainly be keeping it secret, hoping that Sherlock's scrunity would fail to find the small cameras hidden throughout the household.

He had been doing research on the consulting detective and the man who was always at his side - it made him feel strange and wrong to have to resort to the Internet in order to find basic information, however. But it was necessary: he had little time and little resources. What he had found online had been very useful in understanding the man further, but he couldn't deny having a certain fascination.

There was a knocking at the door, pulling Hannibal out of his thoughts. He opened the door to see Will and Sherlock standing there, looking as stiff as stone. Just by looking at the two of them he could determine many of their differences, as well as many of their similarities. Perhaps it was less precise than the method of deduction the detective was so found of, but it was better than nothing.

"Welcome, Mr. Holmes, Will," he said. While it was strange that he called one by his last name and the other by his first, it did make sense. One man was familiar. The other was little more than an accquaintance - one that Hannibal planned to become much closer with.

At first, Sherlock made no reply. He was too busy standing there, trying to absorb as many details as possible. It was a task that required a good bit of focus - as Hannibal didn't actually live in the home, it was more difficult to glean any real information from it all.

Will heaved out a sigh, somehow not at all shocked by this behavior from Sherlock. "Hello, Dr. Lecter," he said. "Thank you for inviting us to your dinner party."

"It's my pleasure, Will," Hannibal replied, smiling slightly.

Sherlock opened his mouth, tempted to begin spouting out deductions. But then he remembered how he needed to present himself to Hannibal.

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock decided upon. It said just enough for him to get by without having to worry. Normally he wouldn't spend so much attention to maintaining a facade, but Hannibal seemed to be somewhat of a special case. Besides, it would only be a few more minutes before the Watsons arrived. He and Will made their way to the dining room and took their seats.

Several minutes later, there was another knock at the door. Just as Sherlock had predicted, Mary and John Watson had arrived to the dinner party, right on time.

Mary walked in beside John, holding her head high. She was accustomed to making herself seem more powerful and strong than people would give her credit for, which she considered to be a very good point of herself. She had been preparing for this dinner mentally ever since John had first mentioned it to her. There was much she had to anticipate in order to make this go smoothly.

Hannibal glanced over to her, recognisation bending his face. He started making his way over to her right as she took a deep breath. This was the moment she had been preparing for, and it had to go perfectly. Mary was dedicated to precision, and this was no different just because it was a social situation.

John reached over and grabbed Mary's arm momentarily, squeezing lightly as he said, "Are you okay? There's nothing wrong, right? If it's got something to do with the baby, we can just head back home. Your health is more important than a dinner."

"There's nothing wrong, John," Mary confirmed, letting out a slight sigh. Ever since Sherlock had slipped at the wedding that she was pregnant, he had been more on edge about the little things. She didn't mind it, really - it meant she had a sweet and doting husband there for her. But at this particular moment, it was a bit grating. She hat to focus, and he couldn't be distracting her.

Hannibal had made it across the room, a slight smile on his mouth. She slowed down her breathing so that she could seem in control of this situation. After all, Mary was in control of this situation. Everyone had their eyes on her at the moment, whether they realised it or not. There was no room for error here.

"What a pleasure seeing you here, Miss A-" Hannibal began.

Mary cut him off, saying, "It's Mrs. Mary Watson now." She put a smile on her own lips, trying to send Dr. Lecter a message with his eyes. "I'm sure you've met John already. We've been married for...how long has it been again?"

"You know him?" John asked, ignoring the question that she had just thrown at him. "Mary, how do you know Hannibal Lecter?"

Now, just as she had gone over in her head. She had already avoided one precarious situation with grace, now it was a matter of pulling it off again. Mary raised her nose into the air slightly as she replied with a rehearsed answer: "We studied together as undergraduates. We went our seperate ways, of course, but there's some things that you simply can't forget."

Hannibal's lips tipped up in a knowing smile - he was aware that Mary was skirting around the truth, and he planned to go along with it. The truth of the matter was that the two were far closer than old undergraduate friends. While their past was far from a smooth line, he wasn't going to betray her trust. That would be simply rude, after all.

"Well, it is good to see you once again, Mary," Hannibal said. "Come, take a seat at the table."

Mary and John happily obliged and made their way to the table. Across the table was Sherlock and Will, sitting next to one another rather uncomfortably. It was almost humourous seeing them there together in such a formal situation.

"Now, talk amongst yourselves. I must finish preparing the first course. Of course, it is not a dinner party without socialisation," Hannibal announced, smiling over his various guests. He had a feeling he would be able to learn quite a bit from what he observed - but at the moment, his cooking came first.

Sherlock's eyes tracked over to Mary, who had engaged in a conversation with her husband and Will. He watched the way her face creased when Hannibal walked into the room, presenting their first course. Even when a plate of food was placed in front of him, he didn't budge. It wasn't until Hannibal started talking to her that he looked up and began paying more attention to everything else.

While Mary had initially seemed to have been treating Hannibal like an old friend, there seemed to be some sort of animosity between them. He always tried to be kind and polite, but there was the slightest, almost imperceptible growl under every words she said. John and Will didn't seem to notice it - but perhaps that was because they had started speaking to one another.

Sherlock couldn't help but take a deeper interest in these interactions between Hannibal and Mary. But since he had already deduced all that he could from the latter, he was going to be focusing on the former during this dinner. While he had gotten quite a bit of information by observing him during their first meeting on the street, he was going to be able to get more by looking at him at the moment.

First, he would have to focus on what was being said in their conversation. He leaned back in his chair, trying to get himself more comfortable before he closed his eyes. Usually this pose was reserved for going to his mind palace, but he found it worked just as well for listening closely to conversations.

John started joining into the conversation with his wife, leaving Will behind with no one to talk to. At the moment, he didn't really mind. He was used to being put in situations where he couldn't really socialise properly. While this was a somewhat depressing thought, it was indeed the truth. There were far more troubling things in Will's life than his socialisation.

But now that he was left to his own devices, he had other things to do than listen in to someone else's conversation. He turned to Sherlock, hoping that maybe he might end up being somewhat cooperative. After all, he had been uncharacteristicly quiet for the majority of the dinner.

But when he turned around, all he saw was Sherlock sitting there with his eyes tightly shut and his hands perched underneath his chin. No wonder he hadn't been talking - he was too busy in the depths of his mind to deal with the ordeals of the ordinary.

This seemed to be a problem that continously arose when he was around Hannibal. Luckily, their host didn't appear to notice how distracted his guest was. If he did, he was simply being too pilote to say anything about it. But Will, on the hand, was willing to confront him about it.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Will asked, his voice cutting into the detective's thoughts. Sherlock opened up his eyes and took in an irritated breath.

"I am sure you're capable of figuring out what I'm doing," Sherlock replied. "Despite the relatively short amount of time we have associated with one another, you must have figured out what my most common habits are."

"Yeah, I've seen you do it before, but I'm just wondering why you're doing it now."

"There are five people in this room," Sherlock replied. "I am not observing my own conversation, you are not conversing with anyone else at the moment, therefore I must be listening to the conversation between the other three in the room. It's simple, a process of elimination. Schoolchildren use it when taking tests."

"I'm aware," Will said. "I was just...never mind."

While no one made a point to comment upon it, it was very clear that the air in the room was heavy and thick from the tension. There was something that was causing strain in each and every person in the room. A series of coincidences had brought them all together, but none of them truly believed in coincidences.

There was a reason for everything, a motivation behind every action, a detail to be found and focused on. Some of these details were pressure points, of course, and Charles Augustus Magnussen was keeping close watch on those. But many of these details were just simple parts of each personality in the room.

Everyone in the room had a weight pressing down on them, whether they admitted it to themselves or not. The universe had willed it to be that way, and so there was nothing to be done.

A/N Adding characters in together is fun! Hooray! Well, I made sure to do this while I'm still in school. I'm at lunch at the moment...I hope you enjoyed this! There's a new episode on tonight, and apparently it's going to make us "scream louder than [we've] ever screamed before." And it has something to do with swimming. Mayhaps we're seeing Mads Mikkelsen in swim trunks...oh dear.