[VERY AU MM continuity; NC-17] Hannibelles-Will

[eidetiker]

Will has been having trouble sleeping. The constant tension of watching for Lecter, waiting for him to make some move -- on him, on Clarice, on some poor rude waiter in the bar, who the hell knows anymore -- is getting to him. And the Scottish exterior is cold, and gray, and he misses Sugarloaf. God he misses Sugarloaf, and Molly, and Josh. Hell,

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[suspects_ravens]

There's a knock.

It echoes strangely, as though given in imperfect unison by a pair of less-than-steady left hands.

[eidetiker]

Will's head comes up, frowning. Clarice, maybe? But this late?

God, he hopes nothing's happened on the one night he's decided to get drunk.

He gets up and heads over to the door, not yet drunk enough to sway, and checks the peephole.

. . . What the fuck.

There's the heavy click of a deadbolt being unlocked, and the door opens as far as the chain will allow. Will peers at the Hannibals through the gap, puzzled.

"Yes?"

[suspects_ravens]

They laugh. It's an odd, blurred sound, twisted by the half-second delay between them and further by the empty bottle of wine they left back in their room.

"I see we found the right room," says the Hannibal on the left; there's an edge of hysteria to her light chuckle, and her words come with the fresh scent of Château d'Yquem.

Even when they drink to get drunk, they're snobs about it.

[eidetiker]

After getting used to their seamless unity, the delay is . . . disconcerting.

"Do you need something?" He sniffs. "You've been drinking."

Says the man with whiskey on his breath.