The crone didn't want to keep her partner in so many deliciously bloody crimes waiting long, but there were days when getting her husband out of bed and into clothes was more difficult than not. Not that she'd complain.
Today, she was missing someone a little more than usual. The Dark One had been gone for some time, yet now and then she wished he were walking the City streets. She missed the opportunity he could have provided, so in need of some sort of guidance as he was. Yet, now she had her own monsters who did not need to hide as the sweet Dexter did. While the dear doctor didn't make who and what he was known to the world, he wasn't hiding or shirking from the reputation that had come before he had. He was a monster to many of the City's collected population. The Viking felt no need to hide at all, and he didn't. He was very much who he was. Perhaps this was why the loss of Dexter had never become one too strong or worrisome.
"Now do be nice to him." She didn't need to tell her husband this as she squeezed his hand, leading him to where the doctor waited, but she did so anyway. It was what was expected of a woman who was about to share something intimate with her husband, something intimate that he had not been privy to before. Oh, he knew about it, but Eric had not experienced it before. She had felt the jealousy when she had let slip that Hannibal had indeed tasted her blood.
"Did I see the cabin walking after you on the grounds earlier?" As if she were asking how his day had gone at the office, as if this were the time to ask such things. "You two do seem to be getting along much better. Although, I believe that damned castle and it have started chatting. I will not be forced into placating more than one dwelling."