We are all looking for connections, whether it be to the universe, a higher power, with other people or ourselves. Who would have guessed that my connection to the world would be a burned out FBI agent named Will Graham?

Granted, in the beginning my interest in him was purely professional. I wondered how such a kind, good man could see so easily into the darker shades of the human psyche? I live in the darkness, while Will embodies the whole spectrum, he not only sees the light and dark, but also the shades of grey in between. Then, as I began to understand him, I must confess I did wonder how his liver might taste with that 1896 vintage red wine I have stored in the basement. Yet, I have come to understand that people like Will are like beacons. He draws the darker shades of black to him like a flame does a moth. He is very much like the last speaker of a forgotten language, who alone can interpret my story before I die.

Then today, as I smelled him in my office and that atrocious aftershave he wears with a ship on front of the bottle nearly gagged me, his natural scent filled my senses and engulfed me.

It´s the reason I am now sitting in the car in Wolf Trap, Virginia in the middle of the night, wondering whether Will has any plans for a midnight excursion tonight. I get out of the car after a long debate with myself whether this is feasible. The door is unlocked and while Will´s dogs arise to greet me, they have now come to know me after having entered the house several times. They therefore only sniff me and return to their respective beds in the living room. I am about to make my way up the stairs when I hear clatter in the kitchen. I am surprised when Will´s light went out over an hour ago. Therefore, I head to the kitchen and by the light of the moon shining its rays into the small room, I see Will opening and closing cabinet doors randomly. I can sense he is fast asleep and know better then to try to wake him. Instead I grab his hand and lead him upstairs to his bedroom.

He sits down on his bed and begins to blink. I turn on the light by the nightstand. "Hannibal?" he questions finally, slowly coming back to himself.

"Yes?"

Will reaches for his glasses, places them on his nose and looks up at me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I figured you might want some company after exposing the Angelmaker today. Such a stressful situation can lead to another episode of sleepwalking."

"Thank you." Will runs a hand through his short, curly hair, evidently trying to gather his wits about him.

"Shall I make coffee?" I offer. Will nods and follows me into the small kitchen again. It doesn´t have a table but an island. I head to the coffeemaker and begin to prepare it while the profiler takes a seat by the island.

"Why are you here?" Trust Will to see through the mask to the crux of the problem.

At his words, I turn to to him and reach over to cup his cheek with my hand. "I desire you sexually."

I´ve never seen someone look as surprised as Will does in that moment. The young man looks like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes go wide and his glasses are dangerously close to falling from his nose.

"I'm flattered," he finally manages to stutter. Then he frowns and voices his thoughts. "Have you considered the repercussions of getting involved with a patient?"

"We have conversations. You are not my patient; I am not your doctor. Therefore there is no conflict of interest." I turn and head for cupboard, pour the coffee into two cups and add milk from the freezer.

Will doesn't ask how I know where the cups are stored and why the dogs didn't alert him when I entered the house. I am grateful of it.

Will takes a drink from his coffee and eyes me over the brim of the cup. He is assessing me, trying to gather how serious my intentions are with regards to him. I chose the correct method in confronting him. I had spent weeks contemplating whether to send him flowers (one can hardly do that with another man?), write him a letter, or ask him out on "a date" and try my luck once his guard was down. In the end, I opted for the fourth option, turning up at his house and informing him of my intentions without preamble or giving him time to gaslight me. If I had, Will would have run faster then his legs could have carried him.

"How did you see the progression of this sexual relationship?" Will seemed nervous to pose the question, but wished to know the answer. He took a drink from his coffee once the words passed his lips.

"Well, that depends on whether you are a top or a bottom." At my words, Will nearly spat out his drink over the counter and onto me. He coughed and soon regained his composure.

"I've never…" His confession shows how much he has come to trust me.

"I know," I return.

Will finishes his coffee and then heads into the living-room. I follow and sit on a chair while the profiler curls up on the couch. "Can I ask why me?"

"I should think the reason is obvious."

"Surely you are guided by other motives. You need something more in a partner then mere submissiveness." Will stretches forward on the couch, seemingly curious to hear my answer.

"Sitting alone at home each night can indeed be lonely. Am I not allowed to find that feeling suffocating much like everyone else?" I want to add that sometimes it almost seems to consume me.

"Loneliness hardly suffices as a reason. A man like you certainly has offers. Why choose me?"

"Because you see through the mask." I have spent my whole life playing a part. Time to stop.

"You wish to be seen?" Will seems somewhat confused by my words.

"I wish to be known," I return, gently correcting him. I arise from my chair and join Will on the couch. Our knees touch, we are sitting that close, but the profiler does not move, even though I had expected him to.

"You wish in turn to know me. You won't like what you see." He gives an ironic laugh. His issues of abandonment bleed into his words. He is afraid that should he let go, I'll run once the going gets tough, like everyone else who ever entered his life. The other people who have come and gone in Will's life have passed through like ships in the night. I don't intend to be one of them.

"I'm not going anywhere," I reassure him. To accentuate my words, I reach over and cup his face with my hands.

"But…" His words are lost when I plant my lips on his. After having had my fair share of sexual experiences, having a partner with little experience is a new one for me. Yet, it was the first time I felt warmth on my skin, the first time I melted under someone else's touch. It's awkward to the point where we bump noses and I have to guide his arms around my waist. It's perfect in everyway.

I see his fear when I arise and lead him to the bedroom. I take off my jacket, vest, tie and shoes and undo the top buttons on my shirt. With that, I get into bed, lean against the headboard and summon Will to my side. He relents, scared at first to approach me, but I pull him towards me until he is lying beside me. He gingerly rests his head on my shoulder and I wrap my arm around him. I pull the covers over us.

"Sleep, Will. I'll watch over you." I kiss his forehead and soon, Will's breathing became shallow. He sleeps that night without nightmares.

For the first time, so did I.