Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, but to Thomas Harris and NBC and Bryan Fuller blah…
Warnings: explicit cannibalism, desk sex, canon-violence, violent images mentioned, I guess, sex with someone under age as well, I mention it just to be sure, because honestly I have no idea how old Abigail is (oh-ho endless list of No-Gos LOL)

„I didn't honor any part of him – so it's just murder, isn't it?"

Hannibal smirks at the fragile brunette with eyes as blue as lapis: "I have a surprise for you. Are you hungry, Abigail?"

Uncertain, she only nods slightly.

When they were seated at the long wooden table in Hannibal's dining room, his lips twitch into a small smile: "Enjoy your meal."

The young woman stares at the plate in front of her. The red meat, still juicy, was well prepared next to a white mountain of rice and a green sea of string beans. He must have cut a piece out of the boy's body before he had hidden his corps. She had panicked, so she didn't pay much attention to her surroundings and certainly not to everything Dr Lecter had done.

The smell clouds her senses. She knows exactly what it is that she is about to put into her still innocent mouth, but she feels nothing else than a thrill of anticipation. There is no disgust or fear of crossing the line between humanity and someplace else entirely. There are only Hannibal's dark eyes full of expectations and her hunger for flesh. She wants to honor her prey and her father. Her longing for preserving the victim inside of her - let her cut through the warm, bloody piece of meat in front of her. Hannibal and she lift their perfectly polished silver forks simultaneously, bringing them to their voracious mouths. The moment it reaches her taste receptors, Abigail closes her eyes and moans with pleasure.

Suddenly, she stops thinking and worrying. She knows she's safe in the dragon's cave, because she's not the innocent abducted princess, but a beastly creature herself. She has never heard about dragons eating other dragons. She's only heard about dragon mothers who eagerly protected their precious eggs or helpless offspring from getting stolen or slaughtered by knights. If they would come for her, Hannibal would be there to shelter her from harm as he'd shield his own child. She opens her eyes again, still tasting her victim's warm flesh on her lips.

"I don't wanna go back to the hospital, Dr Lecter."

She takes another forkful, eagerly putting it in her mouth, savoring it the way it deserved. It was an arousing feeling. Her thighs were tingling – it was the peak of sensational erotic pleasure. There was nothing like it…only perhaps sharing it with another dragon. She looks up at the older man in the perfect tailored cobalt blue suit and smiled.

"You have a good appetite, Abigail. I'm certain you're aware of the complexity of your situation. It wouldn't be wise withdrawing you from the authorities. You have to remain there for once. First, some reputation has to be acquired. You have to pretend being one of them. Do you understand?"

She nods. Of course, it would take time to convince Jack Crawford and the others that she was only a victim herself. A little naive girl. Merely a passive spectator of the terror her father had unleashed. The remaining piece of meat was lying in a pool of ruby-shining blood on the white porcelain plate. She wants to save it for a while, to extend her delectation, but she knows that it won't taste good once it has gone cold and chewy, so she continues her journey to demolish the last remains of her humanity. She does it with real joy. It will be an accomplishment to become like Hannibal – to transform into her real self, finally be his dragon child.

Her look stays fixated on Hannibal's face, eating the rest of the boy with the dirty-blonde hair she had butchered, greeting her new teacher with animalistic lust in her eyes. She doesn't even try hiding her excitement about their complicity any longer. There is no need. She wants to be close to Dr Lecter. She wants to know, taste, smell, feel, and kill everything he does. She longs being a mistress of destruction and creation.

Hannibal's expression remains unreadable. His lips are slightly curled, though he doesn't smile, Abigail only guesses he's pleased with her. She wonders if he would let her taste his piece of meat from his small, but elongated shaped lips which were still wet and crimson red.

Suddenly, she raises and makes her way to Hannibal. He anticipates her thoughts, sliding his chair backwards so she's able to slip onto his lap. They're both fully clothed, but still Abigail can feel the bulge in his trousers, pressing deliciously against her thighs. She exhales slightly, relieved not to be the only one who feels a rush of excitement shooting through her belly and spreading all over her body like a sudden fever wave.

He brings another piece of meat to his mouth. Abigail watches how it disappears between his lips before she bends down to kiss him. She moans when he opens his mouth and lets her taste the young man's flesh mixed with Hannibal's own taste. Her body begins to rock against his bright chest and crotch while her little fingers slide hastily over his suit and shirt, looking for something to hold on to. Her tongue begins to entwine with his, fighting about the bloody piece of meat. She is fast, catching it with her teeth and swallowing it before Hannibal has the time to reclaim it from her mouth. She groans with delight while the older man chuckles against her trembling lips. Her fingers demand access to his skin, unbuttoning his shirt while pulling off his designer jacket with her free hand.

Hannibal helps her. But he is not the passive type, so he pushes her off of his lap and instead positions her on the dining table. He shoves the remaining dinner carelessly aside to finally indulge in the dessert he had waited for all evening.

Abigail lies on her back, presenting herself in front of him like a gift. There is no fear in her eyes, only anticipation and the impatience of a young child waiting for Christmas Eve to arrive. Her piercing blue eyes dazzlingly stick out from the far too white complexion of her skin. Her salmon pink lips are slightly parted. She breathes heavily while he starts to open the buttons of her jeans and pushes them down her small hips and skinny, but buff legs. This may be her first experience with a man, but not her first time. She appears far too calm, so Hannibal does not address her to the matter. Her small hands are reaching for his shirt to pull it off his shoulders.

Abigail had never had sex with an older man before. She did think about having sex with her father once or twice, but decided that the urge came only from their shared killings and the powerful arousal that it had awakened inside of her. She thought of Hannibal Lecter as far too handsome and sexy for fucking a plain girl like her. But then she remembers the reason why she's special to him and accepts his attraction to her as natural behavior between two animals of the same species. If there were only two left, it didn't matter much if her skin was too pale or her dark hair far too dry or her breasts too tiny. The two last creatures of the same species would find each other to re-create and join in their loneliness and longing for a shared life. She tries not to think anymore, but leans against his neck, smelling his intoxicating scent and expensive perfume – carefully dosed to not overlay his own scent, but blend in to create something irresistible.

"I'd like to eat you as well", Abigail whispers against his shaved skin.

He had just pulled off her sweater and top and now traveled his fingers over her sensitive stomach and sides up to her breasts. His huge hands let her chest appear even smaller.

"You have to make a decision then, dear Abigail, eating or learning. I'd say you have a lot to learn and are in need of a teacher. Wouldn't you say so as well?"

Her tongue licked over the salty skin at his throat. "Yes, you're right. First, I want to eat Dr Bloom. I find her ridiculously annoying."

Hannibal frees her breasts that weren't much more than two small white mounds from her bra and lightly bits in one of her nipples. Abigail arches her back, pressing her flesh farther into Hannibal's mouth to ease the pain by reducing the tension between her soft skin and his sharp teeth.

After a moment he lets go of her: "Which brings us to your first lesson. Never add anyone to your menu, who's too close to you. That counts not only for friends, but for most of your acquaintances and the people you work with as well. It's too high a risk."

Abigail becomes impatient now, reaching for his belt, she opens it before she pulls down his zipper. Her small hand reaches into his trousers, feeling the warm and silky skin of his erected cock.

"But how do I choose the ones I'll eat then? I mean, how do you do it?"

He helps her to take off his trousers and replies: "I like to eat the rude ones or people who are not good in what they are doing. Sometimes, it is a relief to remove people from their positions or lives, since you can accomplish something with it. Once I ate an opera singer, because he had ruined the Da-capo-Arie of Monteverdi's L'Orfeo. I'm fairly certain there are those, who'd thank me for it."

Hannibal's thick foreign accent, spoken in that velvety voice of his lulls her into oblivion off the rest of the world. She spreads her legs for him so that he could finally enter her, pushing her ass forward and to the edge of the table – like an unspoken invitation. She loves the moment right before their bodies become one. There's a certain tension she wants to feel forever, but at the same time yearns to pass to feel him inside of her.
When he finally pushes into her, she moans and lets her head fell back against the cool surface of the table. She has to close her eyes for the sensation that was Hannibal Lecter moving inside of her tight wet canal. She runs her fingers through his thick chestnut brown hair with little strands of silver in between, slightly pulling it and therefore him closer to her face.

She was breathing faster now: "To eat the rude and incompetent people sounds reasonable."

"Indeed", he breathes, thrusting in and out of her – steady and determinant. "Over time you'll find your own pattern."

She kisses him again, biting down his bottom lip until it tasted metallic. Abigail licks the wound until it stops bleeding, finding it strangely more arousing than the cock that was working on her. Abigail's fingernails dig into his firm asscheeks, driving him even deeper into her. Hannibal doesn't make any sound, but his expression contorted with the effort of remaining in control.

"Is there anyone you'd like to eat, but can't?" Her voice was supposed to sound innocent, but Abigail knows, Hannibal has already seen right through her. But she enjoys their game of dissimulation far too much.

"Of course, there is. And I think you know who." With that he bents down, licking over her collarbone, before he bits into it – not gentle, but savage, making her cry out with pain and pleasure at the same time. For a tiny moment she's actually scared he'd try to rip a piece of flesh out of her shoulder-blade, but suddenly the ache faded away and she felt his tongue, licking the warm pouring blood off the wound. She understood that to Hannibal, this kind of behavior was friendly mocking from – yes, she has to name it, one cannibal to another. His thrusts get erratic and more forceful while one of his hands wanders between her legs, rubbing her sensitive bud.

"Tell me, Abigail", he suddenly whispers "which part of Dr Bloom would you like to have for dinner?"

Abigail groans at the thought of it, feeling her lust washing over her. She begins to shudder and whimper, when her orgasm hits her with full force: "Her soft cheeks." She clings to Hannibal, who's still moving in and out.

"It's Will Graham, isn't it? You want to have him – all of him." Abigail guesses.

He nods: "Yesss…but I cannot do it."

Was there sadness in his voice?

"Because…he is a friend?" Her insides slowly began to burn and the friction of his thrusts became more uncomfortable.

"Exactly."

"Which part of him would you prefer for dinner?" She moans in pain.

"His heart…", he breathes. Then he comes with a shudder, filling her with his hot wetness while leaning his head against her blood-smeared chest.

Abigail's fingertips softly wander over his back, circling imaginative figures on his skin.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes, Abigail?"

"Y'know, what's the worst?"

"You'll tell me shortly, I suppose."

"I can't even cook."

Hannibal smiles against her skin. "Miss Hobbs, this is indeed a serious lack of skills, which is not tolerable for someone like us. I'll teach you how to make an entrée after you've been declared sane by Dr Boom."

That was certainly something to look forward to. All the killing and the stumbling through the forests with her dad was only practice like playing in the kindergarten and preparing for school. This would be a whole new level. Hannibal would teach her how to be her perfect self. She would be the elegant tigress in the thicket, waiting for her prey, enjoying the hunt as much as savoring its remains. But she wouldn't have to be alone. Hannibal would be on her side. Contrary to the relation with her father, Hannibal could not only be her mentor, but her companion. They could make perfect little cannibals together. Maybe, so she wonders, Will would join their little family anytime soon. Lately, she had seen something shifting in his eyes. Suddenly, Abigail feels very much excited again.

The End.