Will nods as Hannibal looks at him, the motion curt, like he's obeying a silent command from a superior. Reaching into his inside pocket, he takes out his own passport that Hannibal had given to him as they waited for the cab, handing it across the counter to the ticket agent with minimal eye contact but not trying to hide his face as she compares it to the picture inside the document.
Peter Beckett's US passport was issued in Maryland, but his city of birth is Ann Arbor, Michigan. It's benign enough that there's no need for Will to pretend he has an accent, but it has no connections to any places in Will's life, keeping it from pinging on Jack's radar. It's a big enough city that Will doesn't have to speak about it in any detail, or feign knowing anyone who might also, at one time, have lived there. It's perfectly generic, artistically so, and Will makes a note to compliment Hannibal on the mastery of it when they're safely alone in Paris.
"Giacomo," Will says as the gate agent looks down at her computer screen, typing in their information, his voice low and politely conversational. "Do you think we'll have time to get a coffee before we have to board?"
The question is meaningless. Will doesn't care about the answer, doesn't want coffee (he'd prefer to sleep if he can, wanting some rest before they arrive in France, much better things that sleep on their agenda there), but he is establishing their rapport, easy and companionable but not overly friendly, using Hannibal's alias in situ, letting it roll of his tongue like he's said it dozens of times before.
no subject
Peter Beckett's US passport was issued in Maryland, but his city of birth is Ann Arbor, Michigan. It's benign enough that there's no need for Will to pretend he has an accent, but it has no connections to any places in Will's life, keeping it from pinging on Jack's radar. It's a big enough city that Will doesn't have to speak about it in any detail, or feign knowing anyone who might also, at one time, have lived there. It's perfectly generic, artistically so, and Will makes a note to compliment Hannibal on the mastery of it when they're safely alone in Paris.
"Giacomo," Will says as the gate agent looks down at her computer screen, typing in their information, his voice low and politely conversational. "Do you think we'll have time to get a coffee before we have to board?"
The question is meaningless. Will doesn't care about the answer, doesn't want coffee (he'd prefer to sleep if he can, wanting some rest before they arrive in France, much better things that sleep on their agenda there), but he is establishing their rapport, easy and companionable but not overly friendly, using Hannibal's alias in situ, letting it roll of his tongue like he's said it dozens of times before.