IC contact [Mask or Menace]

[infomodder]

"Gone fishing."

[ so don't leave messages to ruin the after fishing glow !!!

your one stop shop for not leaving him alone ]

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[infomodder]

[Wait, what? Of all names to bring up...

Can they just talk about Hannibal? He's easier. He's not here, and his exit didn't involve anything criminal. Unintentional or otherwise.]

We used to. Doctor Gideon was how we initially met. [Crane might be throwing names in the dark to see what sticks, Will thinks. He can deal with that.] But as he's not around and there are more pressing issues going on, we don't have a need to discuss him.

[His mirror. Or, perhaps, he's Abel's mirror. Not a comfortable topic. It feels like, no matter what "world" they're in, the last time Will gets a glimpse of poor Abel Gideon is going to be when he's really, really, really dead. Oh well.]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane steeples his fingers. He taps them together a few times, thinking up new ideas in his head. Will's deflecting the conversation away from Abel - thus he's turning it from Frederick Chilton, too.]

Really? But the fact is he was around, at one time.

[He keeps a very calm face, watching carefully for any reaction Will cares to make. He's clinical and curious; from the professionalism of his expression to the softly-spoken voice that comes from his lips.]

Frederick seems to have taken his disappearance to heart. He seemed quite nauseous, last time we spoke. [What a friendly, gentle shitbird he is!] Shame is a soul-eating emotion, you know.

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[Will doesn't like this much at all, and part of him thinks that it's so easy for Crane to wrap the straitjacket around him as tightly as he has because of Chilton. Because of Chilton opening his big mouth. He understands the desire to want to discuss aspects of one's life, to relate, to find others who can understand, he certainly does. But this is turning on Will, now, and although he knows better than to pass on the full blame to Frederick Chilton and his Goddamn gossipy mouth, there is a part of him that stings, burns, itches with the want to call him up and give him a nice tongue-lashing. A gentle tongue bath, dog to dog.

He backed him into a corner with Walter White. Fine. He at least got a Thai dinner out of that. Being backed into a corner with Crane, his coworker? That was bordering on unacceptable. That was rude, and while Will wasn't one to turn his back on another for such things, he didn't like it.]

Don't you have work to do? Because I do, and I'm already running a little behind.

[So what's to be done in this situation? Shut it down, and Crane has given him the best way to do that by ringing him up at work. What a kind shitbird he is, that earns a question void of condescension or judgment and Will going so far as to put them on some sort of equal footing. Because that's what those superior types love, being on equal ground with fashion disasters and uncultured messes like Will Graham.]

[restingstitchface]

[It's a reaction Crane's planned for.

If Will's trying to talk him into a corner, then he'll just demolish the walls. He genuinely enjoys this small game they have created, when he realizes Will isn't about to roll over and take it. There is a part of him that's overjoyed to see the other man isn't a coward. That is fascinating, and it's perhaps exactly what Will's after. It's a fantastic way to paint a target on his back; appealing to his curiosity.

The problem is Crane is a wantonly selfish man. There is no love more sincere for him than the love of knowledge. But he isn't contented with just having what someone said he ought to have. He doesn't want to eat one or two pieces of it. He wants to devour it all.

Maybe he should call Frederick later. Or maybe not. Will Graham might do that, now.]

Of course. Goodbye, Will. We'll talk later.

[You know exactly what he'll be after, dog.]