It's ridiculous how many different fabrics, patterns, sizes and types of ties there are. Though not as ridiculous as the prices accompanying them. 1600 Cuban pesos for a silk tie, that would be around sixty dollars, are they serious? The best shirt Will owns didn't even cost that much. Will stalks from one aisle to the next, like a hunter looking for prey. The young staff member of the men's fashion store eyes him warily, probably pondering whether his salary is high enough to warrant him approaching and asking Will if he can help. The man is saved by a new customer stepping into the store and the employ hastily steps towards them.
Will glares at the tie in his hands. It has muted colours that remind him of autumn and a paisley pattern that crawls and coils over the tie like maggots on a corpse. His scowl deepens when Will thinks about seeing Hannibal with their delivery man's leg in the kitchen. Saying that the guy complained about aching legs because Hannibal orders too much stuff online and that he has better things to do than hauling the heavy packages up the hill to their house. Well, Hannibal satisfying his taste for the expensive and rare with purchases from various private sellers online would not draw as much attention as visiting every designer and antiques shop in the near vicinity. But first the lady from the vegetables store and now this?
If his eyes had the ability to set objects on fire the tie in Will's hand would have combusted about two minutes ago. He glares at it and the paisley pattern Hannibal is so fond of some more before making his way to the cash register.
"Is it a gift, Sir?" the man behind the counter asks, no doubt taking in Will's clothes and accurately concluding that he didn't just buy the expensive piece of silk for himself.
"Yes."
"Should I gift wrap it for you, Sir?"
Blinking slowly, Will takes a moment to think about it. Buying gifts when he was angry was a bad habit of his that would probably make him a poor man in no time if he continued doing retail therapy instead of just shouting at Hannibal for five minutes. But that was beside the point. He was sure the tie would suit Hannibal's taste but that didn't mean it was a nice gift.
"No."
Stepping out into the sunlight and squinting his eyes at the brightness Will stops for a moment before he heads straight towards the building at the end of the street. It's a McDonald's. Will doesn't feel like eating mailman for dinner. He orders a burger and some fries to go and then looks for an empty bench in the nearby park. The thought of Hannibal's affronted look when he'll smell the fast food on Will later today makes the meal taste even better.
When a woman comes up to him, asking if he can watch her dog for a few minutes while she goes to the toilet Will hesitates only a moment after she is gone. He pulls out the tie and rubs it over the dog's back a few times. The dog happily wags its tail at Will. He plucks the few dog hairs from the silk, trusting Hannibal's keen sense of smell before eyeing the paper bag that contained his meal. He shakes out some crumps then stuffs the tie inside. Will thinks he has more than earned the right to be an immature prick once in a while.
Hannibal stares with repulsion at the bag Will pressed into his hands just a moment before. He looks like a man who just caught the decaying cadaver of some bizarre creature but is too overcome with horror and shock to let go of it.
"Will," Hannibal starts and were it any other man the word would probably be voiced as a complaining whine. He looks at Will, then again at the paper bag and sniffs once in displeasure.
"You are aware that I have a keen sense of smell. I know that you already ate, though I wouldn't go so far as to call it food. There was no need to bring this here." Will hopes he won't find Ronald McDonald in their kitchen someday as substitute and embodiment of the affront that fast food is to Hannibal.
"It's not food, it's a gift." Will mentally backtracks his words as Hannibal's head whips up, mouth opening in silent horror, eyes widening fractionally in pained disbelieve.
"The thing inside I mean. It's not food, it's a gift for you."
"Was it necessary to put it inside this?"
"As necessary as killing the delivery man was." Will shoots back, scowling and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.
Hannibal looks like he wants to argue that point but leaves it, eyes returning to the paper bag. Will is certain Hannibal entertains the idea of simply burning whatever is inside with the paper bag as if it was something contaminated beyond saving.
Reluctantly, he sets it on the kitchen counter, which he will probably clean thoroughly as soon as he can get rid of the McDonald's bag. Hannibal's face, as he slowly pulls out the tie, is caught in a subtle mix of pleased and disgusted. No doubt mourning the ill fate the expensive piece of cloth had encountered. He sniffs again and looks at Will, face a perfect mask once more.
"While I appreciate your choice of fabric and style, Will, I would appreciate it even more if you bought your gifts while being in a more pleasant mood."
"Well, and I would appreciate it if the FBI didn't catch us because someone has bad hobbies and a sense for the dramatic." Will turns around to leave before stopping to add, "It's a gift and I know you have suits it fits. It would be rude not to wear it, Hannibal."
A month later, Will looks through their credit card transactions to see if there is anything that could potentially draw the eye of the FBI to them. He stops to huff a breath of amusement when notices a second payment for a paisley silk tie from the same store he had gone to, dated just a day later.