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for hannibal

Things seem to clear up on the island as quickly as they come about and Mac is grateful that the only injury she got was a sprained ankle - which was easily dealt with by wrapping it and being annoyed for a few weeks. Hannibal, on the other hand, seemed to be in bad sorts when she left him and she felt she owed it to him to visit him once he was home from the clinic.

It takes a while to actually track him down because he apparently doesn't live in a proper hut and just drifts from place to place. She finally finds him at his damned boat.

"I believe you were supposed to come tell me you hadn't died. You failed at that but if you want somewhere better to sleep than...this...I'm offering."

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Hannibal figured that since the sprained ankle would heal without any permanent damage, he could chalk the rescue up to being completely successful. Plus she was thanking him, that was always nice.

"Yeah, I was not a fan of those either," Hannibal said, very gently rolling over so that he could carefully get up without injuring his ribs more. "They didn't give the gentle caress I'd originally hoped for."

Mac wrinkles her nose. "No, I bet they didn't. Come on, come stay with me tonight. You'll at least get a bed. It's the least I can do for a confirmed hero."

"Only if you promise to be the gentlest of snugglers," Hannibal said. Sleeping on a bed sounded like a really, really good idea with how sensitive his ribs were. He could sleep on the ground if he had to, which he didn't because the Compound had beds, but it was way more awesome to accept the invitation of a beautiful woman you had rescued. Even if it was just for sleeping.

"How did the footage turn out?"

"So gentle you'll barely even feel me," Mac promises, laughing. "And it actually came out fantastic, except I was still rolling when I found you and there's so many expletives that I can't use any of the audio. I guess I'll figure out how to edit around that."

"You, McKenzie McHale, have a potty mouth," Hannibal pointed out. Never mind that he had one too, she still had one. He kind of admired that, especially if she could control it on air.

"And aren't you the person in charge of getting to decide if something needs to be bleeped? It's not like we have a TV station or that acronym that says you can't show tits on TV."

"Sort of. I don't actually work for the Standards Board," Mac explains. "But I don't let bullshit fly during my broadcasts either. I direct the on-air reporter through a wireless headset so they know when to wrap something up or another question to ask or if there's some kind of problem with the incoming graphics. I can also pull the plug on the whole thing if they fuck with me."

She grins a little. "I once unplugged the live feed from in front of the White House because the DC anchor tried to fuck with us."

"You are the Standards Board now, Council Member," Hannibal pointed out. He had no idea what her exact position over arts and media did, but that was probably one of the things she should do. Or at least think about. So far as he knew, the island had no standards in regards to that sort of thing because nobody really pushed the envelope.

"But you sound like the lady for the job, making sure no one fucks with you."

"Mmmhmm, that's it exactly," Mac agrees. "For now, I think I'll leave it alone until I can get some distance from the whole thing."

She levels a dark look at him. "I never, ever want you getting yourself almost killed on my behalf again. That was not even remotely fair. Or worth it. You're probably much more useful to the island."

"I make exactly no promises," Hannibal said, not worried despite the dark look that was leveled at him. It was a pretty good look, as far as looks go. She had obviously had some practice and experience, but he still wasn't moved.

"Protecting people is kind of what we do. And this isn't even close to almost being killed. I've been way more almost dead than this. I've been actual dead. This is nothing. It's just... very painful."

"Hmph. Well, you're at least going to rest tonight so I can have a clean conscience," Mac decides.

"Although you did get full marks for being kind of romantic and tragic in your heroism. If I had died, that would have been a good ending. Full of angst. And the word fuck."

Hannibal didn't point out that he would have slept anyway, because if this made her feel better he wasn't going to take that away from her. Especially since she shouldn't feel bad in the first place.

"I would have avenged your death by pulling the pins on all my grenades and diving head first into the thing's giant fucking mouth."

"Be still my beating heart," Mac says, laughing a little.

"Much better than flowers."

"You'd be dead, so you wouldn't have appreciated flowers anyway," Hannibal said with a nod. That was generally the sort of thing you had to be alive to appreciate.

"So was this your first taste of just how seriously fucked up the island could be?"

"More or less. I was here for Halloween but I stayed inside." Mac is beginning to think she should have done that this time around as well.

"Have you gone to see the dinosaurs?" he asked. That was probably his favorite part of the island, going to get to see them, the giant bastards. Even if they did try and eat or crush him.

"No, I haven't." Mac puts on her best little smile. "If we're very good and let all our injuries heal up, will you give me an official ITF escort to go see the dinosaurs? I could put it in my documentary. Special thanks to security detail Hannibal?"

"It's a date," he said with a wink. Seeing the dinosaurs were pretty amazing, which is why he liked going there as often as he did. He didn't hunt them every time he went, sometimes it was just to see them. He always made sure to stay close to the edge of the territory though, he was well aware pretty much any of them could kill him without much trouble.

"But yeah, you definitely want to be able to run full speed before you visit dino territory."

"Yeah I think I should probably be able to run for my life," Mac agrees. "But I want to go out there. Once in a lifetime experience, yes?"

"Yeah, unless you visit the dinosaur territory more than once," Hannibal pointed out. He actually went quite a bite, but that was mostly because he got too bored with the island otherwise.

"Semantics," Mac scoffs. "I do want to go out there so if you don't mind taking me, I would love to go. I promise not to make myself dinner for some carnivorous beast. Besides, I'm all skinny. Probably not worth the effort to eat me anyway."

"MacKenzie McHale, I can personally vouch for the fact that you are worth eating," he said, giving her a wink. He would definitely not kick her out of the hot springs again. Or a bed. Or anywhere, really.

"If they're zombie dinosaurs though you're fucked."

"You are terrible," Mac says, blushing a little. "Come on, let's go to bed. To sleep, of course."

Mac thought sex might be contraindicated with his injuries.

"Fine, fine, to sleep, of course," Hannibal said, huffing dramatically at the mention of only sleeping.

"But thanks for coming to find me to thank me. You're alright, MacKenzie McHale."

"I do try," Mac says, beaming at him. "Besides it was sort of sweet, the way you wanted to save my skin."

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