Five Times Hannibal Killed (and one he didn't)

A/N: These are new killings, not ones that have already occurred. Also, all of these take place BEFORE the season finale. Each drabble will deal with the killings in a different way. I took liberties with the timeline compared to the show, forgive and bear with me. Bon appetit!

1. Marcy Laruen (Dec. 6th, 2012).

"What seems to be troubling you?"

It was a useless question, really, for Hannibal already knew the answer. Her name was Marcy Laruen, and she had been positively delicious. Hell, even Jack Crawford had said so.

"Another murder," Will sighed. "I wasn't even supposed to working this week, and now I get to replay her death over and over again." Will leaned against Hannibal's desk and absolutely refused to look up. He was tired, sore, and in no mood to talk to Hannibal, especially not about the way Marcy's body had been staked to a pine tree with "Merry Christmas" written in her own blood across her dead, pale chest. And he told Hannibal as much.

"Written across her chest?" the therapist frowned. Hannibal hadn't done that, and it pissed him off that someone was painting over his artwork. If he found out who had done it, he'd have to be sure to settle their artistic differences over a nice dinner.

Or, a dinner preparation, at least.

"Yes, that is what I said," Will glared. "All nicely spread out on a Christmas tree at a mall full of kids wanting to visit Santa." Images flashed through Will's head, but he shook them off. "December's only begun. Imagine what we'll find the week of Christmas."

"I would rather not," Hannibal sighed. Really, though, he rather would and rather had. He always enjoyed giving gifts, after all.

"I'm sorry, but can we be done for the day?"

Hannibal frowned. He honestly hadn't expected that. "Why don't we sit down and share a drink, then? It's nearing the end of your session, anyways."

"Fine," Will mumbled.

"Excuse me, I will only be a moment." Hannibal left the room for a moment to gather the drinks. As he poured the wine, he slipped a small business card marked "Lauren's Florist Shop" into his coat pocket. Best not leave such things out, Hannibal mused. Then, drinks in hand, he walked back into the room. Will took the drink from Hannibal and downed it before Hannibal could even sit down. The therapist frowned, but Will just smirked. "I told you I wanted to leave." Instead of reacting, Hannibal just passed Will his own glass, which was also promptly downed. Now Hannibal was upset. One did not drink fine wine like a shot at a college bar, especially not his wine! "Fine," Hannibal sighed, giving in. "But you're not driving home."

"Fine."

Hannibal helped Will stand up- he obviously had been drinking before the appointment- and helped Will out of the room. If it had been any other patient, he would have them call a friend and send them on their way. But this was Will, and he was the one responsible for Will's nightmares. He didn't regret it, though, even if he had to deal with good l in the aftermath.

It was hard to find a good meal, after all.