Hannibal fanfiction!

Taken by surprise.

Will Graham had never cooked anything, other than your standard two minute noodles, in his whole life.

 Perspiration was forming in tiny bubbles of sweat on his forehead as he frowned looking down at his culinary disaster staring back up at him from the frying pan.

"Pan cakes?" Will sighed,"More like burnt cardboard."

You look up from one of Hannibal's thick published novels that you had been buried into. Hannibal still had not awoken even after Will and yourself had gone to check on him. He must have really needed the rest. It had been a very big night. 

"You've put the stove top on too high then." You say rolling your eyes at him. 

Will poked out his tongue at you, tasting that he had flicked some pancake batter on various areas of his face. He looked down at his flour splotched shirt.

"Oh dear."

Smirking, you walk over, getting a good look at the giant mess that had been made of Hannibal's pristine kitchen. 

You take a deep breath, inhaling the smell of slightly burnt pancake and look down at the pan.

It looked like someone had attempted to mix scrambled  eggs with charcoal.

Your eyes meet Will's and you have to slap both your hands over you mouth to control your laughter.

Will narrows his eyes.

"It's not funny." 

You continue to stare at Will, he was almost completely covered in flour.

"You look like a powderpuff." You say laughing into your hands.

"Oh that's it."

Suddenly Will Graham picks up a handful of flour and throws it into your face.

You squeal out loud. It's all in your mouth and in your hair.

Will bites his lip in an attempt to hide the grin on his face. He backs away from you slowly.

This meant war.

*************************

Hannibal's eyelids fluttered as he awoke from his slumber.

He looked at the bedside table noticing a glass of juice sitting on a, now wet napkin. 

A smile played subtly on his lips. His feet touched the floor as he sat up in bed. He found his slippers and began to walk to the door. 

Taking a deep breath he stopped. 

Smoke.

Something smelled of smoke.

A fire?

Hannibal did not know.

His eyebrows raised and he began to walk to the kitchen.

The sound of Will's laughter echoed through the house and  put Hannibal at ease but it did not dull his curiosity.

Hannibal turned the corner, entering the kitchen just in time to get hit in the face by flying flour.

You and Will both gasp and the flour fight skids to a halt.

"It seems," Hannibal sighs dusting himself off, "When the cat is away, the mice do play?"

Gulps of terror escape your mouths. The flour mess had stretched from the kitchen to the lounge room. 

"I hope you both know, I cannot let this slide," Hannibal stated, not taking his eyes off the two of you for a second, 

You look at Will, he is just as covered in flour as you are at this point. 

"...th..things got a little out of hand ... I..- 

Hannibal interrupted Will's stuttering grabbing a hand full of his dark curly hair, pulling Will's  face close to his own.

Will could feel Hannibal's breath in his ear. It sent shivers down his spine.

"Now tell me," Hannibal whispered softly, feeling Will melt like butter in his grasp,

"What is to be done about that?"