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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***This was something he needed to do more often.
Will sighed in contentment as he reeled his fishing line in slowly, looking around him for Winston. The other dogs hadn't come with them today; it was just the two of them.
Winston was lying on the bank of the river, gnawing at a stick that Will had thrown for him a few times. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of the dog; he was concentrating so fully on his stick that Will had the feeling he was in some sort of doggy heaven.
He himself was feeling good; he hadn't been fishing in a while, and usually, when he fished, he was in high boots in the middle of the water.
But today, he had opted to bring a picnic lunch and sit on the riverbank, not really expecting to catch any fish, just wanting to spend the day relaxing and letting his mind drift. He didn't want to think about cases, or the Chesapeake Ripper, or anything else in his life.
He just wanted to enjoy himself. That wasn't always easy for him to do, but today, he was determined to get away from all the stress.
He was tired of stress. He was tired of thinking too much.
This was just what the doctor ordered -- well, if he was seeing a doctor, Will thought with a soft laugh. In a way, he was, though Hannibal wasn't technically his psychiatrist. Still, he was a doctor, and they did have sessions now and then.
But it was more in the nature of helping a friend than actually having psychiatric sessions, Will reminded himself. Just two people talking, that was all.
Though there did seem to be times when Hannibal concentrated far too intently on what he said, as though he was taking mental notes and recording Will's words.
Will shook off that feeling, refusing to countenance it. Hannibal didn't have any ulterior motives for wanting to help him; even though Jack had asked that Hannibal evaluate him, Will didn't believe that the other man was still doing so. Those days were long over.
No, he and Hannibal had the free and easy camaraderie of friendship between them. He needed nothing else from the man other than what they shared. He didn't want anything else from their friendship, he told himself, his inner voice strong and firm.
Will pushed away the little voice that told him he was lying to himself. You want more than friendship from Hannibal, and you know it.
No. He didn't. He wasn't even going to think that there could be more. He didn't need more, he didn't want more. He was happy with the status quo just as it was.
He cast the line out again, this time with a frown on his face. The direction his thoughts were going wasn't the one he had wanted them to take. He didn't want to think about Hannibal, or about anything in his life other than just taking it easy.
He needed this time off, to let his mind drift and to unwind.
Thinking about Hannibal was not unwinding, he told himself firmly, pushing those thoughts away. It was only tying his mind in more complicated knots.
His relationship with Hannibal wasn't something that he needed to contemplate. It was enough that they were friends; he didn't need to think about the shadows that surrounded the other man, or the little flashes of desire that he felt whenever they were close.
Such things weren't important. They only made him feel more confused, unsure of just what he wanted and needed. Those thoughts made him feel .... unsettled.
Will reeled in the fishing line more quickly this time, scowling as he did so. His peace and serenity were gone; he knew that these thoughts of Hannibal and whatever their relationship was, or might be -- or what he might want it to be -- had taken away his calmness.
He wouldn't be able to think of anything else now. He'd successfully managed to shake himself out of that peacefulness he'd needed, and he couldn't get it back.
Nothing to do now but go home -- and focus on the thoughts that he'd tried to shut away.
With a soft sigh, he got to his feet, whistling for Winston and putting away his fishing pole. He hadn't even had lunch; maybe he should eat before he went back home.
That was a good idea, he told himself. Maybe if he did that, then he'd be able to regain the serenity he had felt earlier. Maybe he would be able to get those disturbing thoughts of wanting more from his relationship with Hannibal out of his mind.
Yes, that was what he needed to do. If he sat here and ate something, he'd feel better, and his equilibrium would return. Maybe he'd even fish a little more.
Will's head jerked around when he heard soft footsteps in the brush behind him; he hadn't thought that he would be disturbed here. There were a few people who knew of this place and his love for it, of course, but he hadn't thought they would track him down.
Why did his heart leap when Hannibal stepped out of the wooded area, a smile on his face, wearing casual clothes and carrying a large picnic basket?
"Hello, Will." The softly spoken words sent a wave of desire flooding over him.
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