This Is My Design.

Part 10: In Which There Is Nakedness Again. Thank Goodness.

<Authors' note: We know that Dr DuMaurier is not called Scully really.>

Hannibal was chained between Will and Scully, tethered like a dangerous dog. However, his expression was markedly cheerful.

‘So Will Graham,’ he purred. ‘Where do you intended to detain us? I do hope there’s room service.’

Will's smile was teasing.

'I hope there's wine,' said Scully bluntly.

'I've arranged a little something that you will appreciate, Doctors,' Will replied.

'You can tell a quality hotel, ' Scully said, as the porter finally shut their suite door 'When no-one mentions the handcuffs at check-in. So Will, is keeping us shackled part of your plan? Symbolising your inner loneliness, perhaps?'

'Will Graham has always had attachment issues,' Hannibal told her. 'The dogs; the fishing. Obvious to any therapist.'

With a rapid flick of the wrist, Will unlocked his side of the cuff and chained Hannibal to a bed. 'NO SYMBOLISM,' he growled.

'Well this is entertaining,' Scully raised an eyebrow, as Will cuffed her to the other side of the bed.

He stood back, rubbing his wrists as he surveyed his prize. 'No more analysing, Hannibal. No more hiding in your tailored suits. You—' Will pointed at Hannibal— 'are a cannibalistic serial killer. And you—' at Scully— 'were helping him escape.

'I think it's very clear that you've both been very naughty and deserve punishment.'

Will walked over to Hannibal, gently brushing his dishevelled hair from his forehead. Then taking a small knife from his pocket, he slid it between the covered buttons on Hannibal's waistcoat and sheered them off. Hannibal did not flinch.

He cut off button after button. Waistcoat, then shirt. Carefully, precisely, he slit the sleeves of Hannibal's tartan jacket.

'The Saville Row tailor that made this suit would be weeping,' Hannibal said watching as Will methodically cut away his silk shirt. 'At least he would be if I hadn't devilled his kidneys in butter.'

Will did not answer, he only cut.

'I never condoned this friendship between you two,' Scully commented, 'but I'm beginning to see its twisted appeal now.'

Will's breaths became short and fast as he worked, shredding Hannibal's trousers in a few firm strokes, revealing his...

Sock garters.

And, higher, his silk boxer shorts. Hannibal's arousal was clear, and Will, finally, lowered the knife to his side.

'Tell me,' he said quietly, 'how shall I deal with you, Dr Lecter? The same way you dealt with me, in your kitchen?'

'It is not for me to say, Will Graham,' Hannibal said. 'You, and you alone can decide what punishment I suffer. Will you be cruel, as I would be. Or will you be... Tender.'

'God, I'm bored with this sexual tension,' Scully sighed.

Will ignored her. Methodically, he stripped off his own clothes, revealing the massive wound in his abdomen, hastily stitched.

Hannibal couldn't take his eyes from his own handiwork on Will's body. 'Beautiful,' he breathed. 'Like the scars of rebirth.'

Scully's phone rang. 'What? A UFO sighting you say? I'll be right there.' She unlocked her cuffs and departed. 'Later, boys.'