AN: Because I was intimidated in drawing Mads (a man with an interesting face that you could easily mess up) a prompt for a sketch turned into a drabble. Yeah, so I'm going the lazy way and not showing all the work it would take for Will to eat a desert. All that work went into figuring out what Hannibal was going to make for Will.

EDIT - I updated this a little too soon. I didn't realize strike outs wouldn't be seen and such part of Will's trouble with transference isn't as apparent and looks awfully silly. Just know there's issues with transference and Hannibal damn well intended it that way.

Will wonders if he surprises the Doctor by pronouncing Viognier in an accent that's not quite French. An idle thought with too idle conversation. The good doctor pauses for a moment, if only a moment before continuing, "I'm entirely surprised you haven't heard of her." Doctor Lecter dips his spoon into the creme caramel; a simple enough desert to make and rich. "Americans have a fixation that serial killing began in the States. If charitable they note the Ripper murders in England."

There's a pause as Will thinks. History of Forensic science wasn't a weak point for him, though it only went so far on the history of the study and not the history of the deed. He speculated it would go too far, go too long, and he wouldn't have been able to manage. Then he takes a bite of the creme and focuses on the cool of the metal spoon, the sweet over his tongue, and eyes the doctor savoring his own meal. And on the lips. Just for a few moments. Then Will looks away to answer, "Yeah, I mean, I know the history goes longer than America. 14th century, possibly longer, if you don't count the royals who got away with it. It's just hard for me - personally - to think of female serial killers."

"And why is that?" The question is curious and personal and Will can feel the doctor's eyes on him. He refuses to look up.

Will's spoon clicks against his dish for another bite of desert. It's all be savory, all been rich and prepared by Doctor Lecter. Bouillabaisse. Scallops Provencal, lemon green beans, and baked rice pilaf. Lemon sherbet between each course. After all, the flavors of each course contrast. Still, the sweet is shocking. "They don't... " The spoon drags against the plate for a moment. "Female serial killers for the most part are pragmatic in contrast for the stuff Crawford calls me in for. I can tell when it's a he or a she. When women do it -" He hears Doctor Lecter reach his hand out, "- they usually do it for -"

Will stares at the hand holding his wrist. He watches as Hannibal draws his hand to his mouth and watches red lips part. With a quick sweep of tongue over fingers the doctor seems to taste Will's skin. He risks looking up to the doctor's eyes and sees heat. Will looks away and draws his hand back, "What was that for?"

He can hear the doctor's voice is a near smile, "You had caramel on your wrist and I'm afraid I've something of a sweet tooth, I should hate it to go to waste. Though," The pause hangs in the air, "That was considerably rude of me to interrupt. Please, do go on."

Will swallows as he searches for the thread of the conversation and in a shaken voice, he continues unsure if he wants to drag it on or shorten the conversation. After all, Hannibal hates to be rude.