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The first time they meet, Hannibal literally runs in to Will in front of a coffee shop in Baltimore. Coffee is spilled on Will's shirt, apologies are mumbled, and Will refuses Hannibal's offer to buy him a new cup of coffee with a laugh and a shrug. They don't meet again for two months, though they catch glimpses of each other regularly at the coffee shop.
The second time, they are in front of a deli near Quantico, and Hannibal is carrying a briefcase, a stack of files, and a sandwich, and this time it is Will who runs into Hannibal.
"God, I'm so sorry," Will starts, immediately bending over to help Hannibal pick up his scattered possessions from the sidewalk. He pauses when he hands Hannibal his files, into those strangely familiar brown eyes. "I'm sorry, but—do I know you from somewhere?"
Hannibal takes his files with a small smile. "I do not believe so, no."
"No, I do. You ran into me in front of Starbucks like a month ago," Will laughs. Hannibal's thick foreign accent is unmistakable. "And you spilled coffee on my shirt and offered to buy me another cup of coffee."
Hannibal stands up once all his possessions are back in his hands, his smile brightening. "I suppose we are even now, then."
"I guess so. Uh, I'm Will Graham, by the way. Nice to run in to you again."
"Hannibal Lecter. I am afraid I must be running off again, but here–" Hannibal transfers his precarious bundle of things to his left arm and pulls a business card from his pocket.
The card is printed on thick mauve card stock—clearly not cheap—and says 'Doctor Hannibal Lecter, MD, Psychiatrist,' in a neat copperplate font. Hannibal is pacing off in the opposite direction before Will has a chance to respond.
The third time, it is two days later, and they're back in the coffee shop in Baltimore, and this time, no one spills any coffee or files; Will just notices Hannibal sitting alone at a table reading a book when he's in line, and takes the seat opposite Hannibal's when he finally has his coffee in hand.
"Dr. Lecter," he says with a grin.
The other man glances up from his book. "Oh, Will. Hello."
"Nice to see you without having to knock anything over."
"Perhaps the third time is the charm." Hannibal folds down the corner of his page and smiles. "How are you?"
Will shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Good. Sorry I didn't call—work got insane, I got caught up in planning this field trip."
"A field trip? Are you a teacher?" Hannibal actually looks interested, setting his book down.
"Well, it's only preschool, but yeah. Not exactly as prestigious as being a doctor."
"It is not merely preschool, Will, the education of young children during their formative years sets the pathway for their future. You should take pride in your work."
"Preschool teaching was only supposed to be a temporary job to make extra money, because it's a little hard to make a living as a boat repairman these days. I was supposed to teach profiling at the FBI academy full-time, but I'm sure you heard about all the budget cuts. And what can I say, the little brats wormed their way into my heart."
"You seem content. Not everyone is so fortunate to find work they enjoy as you do."
"So what about you, Doctor? Do you enjoy your work?"
"Immensely; the human mind is fascinating. I have had great privilege as a man of science to be able to explore one of the final frontiers of human knowledge."
Their conversation is interrupted by the shrill ringing of Will's cell phone. Will exhales heavily when he sees it's one of his student's parents, answering it with an apologetic shrug to Hannibal.
"Will Graham speaking. Oh, hello Mrs. Collins. What? Oh. Okay. Well, it'll be fine. I'm sure I can find someone else to chaperone. It's okay. Thank you for letting me know." Will hung up with another heavy sigh.
"Who was that?" asks Hannibal curiously.
"The mother of one of my students. She was supposed to be one of the chaperones for the trip, but now she has a business trip on the same day. Now I've got to find someone else to take her spot.
Hannibal beams at him. "Perhaps I could volunteer in her stead?"
"You seriously want to help me take fifteen four- and five-year-olds to a pumpkin patch?" Will asks dubiously, eyeing Hannibal in his immaculately fitted and pressed plaid suit and matching paisley tie.
"Well, I will not lie, it has been a while since I have been around children; all of my patients are older teenagers or adults. But I would enjoy spending time with you, and I am dedicated to philanthropy and community service."
"Are you asking me out?" Will can't help his laughter, because there's something so utterly ridiculous about the earnestness in Hannibal's expression and his awkwardly formal way of speaking that suddenly reminds Will of dates as a teenager and high school dances.
"It depends. Do you want me to be?"
Will tilts his head to the side thoughtfully and takes a slow sip of his coffee. "You'll have to fill out an information form and get a background check, if you're going to chaperone. And you'll want to wear clothes you don't mind getting messy. If there's a way to make a mess, the kids will find it, trust me," he says finally.
Another smile stretches across Hannibal's face. "I look forward to it."
The cafe at the park was quiet at four in the afternoon, and the other outdoor tables were mostly empty, just the way Will liked it. He didn't mind the late October chill, not when he had unlimited refills on hot cups of coffee and a month's worth of lesson plans to write. He even had the pleasure of getting a table right next to the park's seasonal ice skating rink to people-watch from when he got tired of thinking about ways to keep kids interested in learning about the alphabet.
Will looks up from his notepad just in time to see a familiar man in a dark wool coat skate away from the rinkside snack bar with what looked like a sandwich in his hands.
"Hey! Hannibal! Dr. Lecter!" Will says, trying to flag down the other man. He has the paperwork for the field trip in the back of his planner; Will had been planning to drop it off at Hannibal's office later but why would he waste the gas if they were both here?
Hannibal glances up from his sandwich and smiles. "Will," he greets, words muffled by his bite of sandwich as he skates over to the edge of the rink where Will's table is....
And promptly crashes right into the guardrail in his hurry, literally falling head over heels, his sandwich falling out of his hands.
Will isn't sure whether he wants to jump over the fence and see if Hannibal is okay, or if he wants to laugh until he can't breathe, but before he can decide, Hannibal pops back up, flushed bright red and holding into the ledge of the rail for dear life.
It takes Will a moment to stop laughing, actual tears in his eyes at the sight of the elegantly-dressed psychiatrist taking a dive like that.
"Are you okay?" he finally manages to get out.
"The only thing hurt here is my dignity. I am not usually so clumsy."
"I'm having a hard time believing that, you know."
"I was a dancer in school, I will have you know. Ordinarily I am very adept at skating."
"Oh, really? So I guess you just fell for me."
Hannibal actually rolls his eyes at that. "A pun, Will, really?"
"Come on, it was funny and you know it."
"Is there a reason you called me over?"
"I have the forms for you to fill out for the trip."
"I shall be there in a moment."
Will should have known Hannibal was going to be popular with the kids.
He was a doctor, for one thing, which automatically made him interesting, and he was someone new, who wasn't just So-and-So's Mother or Father. And Hannibal had that heavy Eastern European accent (Will had already heard one of the girls ask him if he was a vampire and Hannibal assure her that he was Lithuanian, not Transylvanian) and the patience of a saint (or just the patience of a really good psychiatrist, Will muses, watching Hannibal answer their every question without showing any signs of annoyance.)
And it wasn't just curiosity that made Hannibal popular among Will's class; Will had to admit that Hannibal was surprisingly great with kids.
Hannibal picks up Robbie after he falls in the mud and carries him on his shoulders for the rest of the walk through the pumpkin patch, and teaches the kids how to sing 'Ein Männlein' in the original German ("It was my sister Mischa's favourite when she was a little girl," Hannibal explains, "and she made me sing it to her daily, but Mischa will be very embarrassed if you tell her I told you that.") on the bus ride back to keep them from getting out of control.
Afterwards, when all the kids have been picked up and Will's classroom tidied for tomorrow, Hannibal holds the passenger side door of his car open for Will with a smile.
"You know how I said you didn't have to buy me another cup of coffee, back when we first met?" Will starts.
"Yes, I do." Hannibal glances over at him curiously.
"I've changed my mind. I think I'll take you up on that offer now."
"Oh?"
"And I think I'd like you to be asking me out on a date this time."
Hannibal grins. "Does it count as a proper date if I do not act like a klutz this time, as according to tradition thus far?"
"Oh, no. I think we've done quite enough falling."
"What if I want to keep falling?"
It's Will's turn to frown, confused. "What?"
"Falling in love with you," Hannibal says smugly.
Will sighs. "I'm gonna regret saying that thing at the ice skating rink, aren't I?"