CH 7: Leaps and Bounds
When Will arrived home the night before, he hadn't been able to bear the thought of waking Abigail. Instead, he'd nested out on the couch and now suffered the stiff neck and back to prove it.
"Morning!" Abigail entered the room, fresh-faced and pleasant with her hair in two pigtails. She flushed when she took note of Will's sleeping arrangements. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "it's just…I accidentally, uh…"
"No need to explain," Will assured her. "You're more than welcome to my room. Truthfully, I sleep on the couch pretty often. It was no trouble at all."
"Coffee?"
"Please."
After padding into the kitchen, Abigail began preparing the Keurig as she hummed under her breath. Something about the night before had been cathartic, so it now felt as if a significant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Do you have therapy today?"
Will sighed. "Yes, at some point, but I thought that maybe…uh…"
"What?" Abigail turned away from the coffeemaker, arching a brow as he sheepishly lowered his eyes.
"Never mind."
"Fine, be mysterious," she countered. "People who keep secrets don't get my world class eggs benedict."
Will smiled shyly, then folded his hands on the table. "I'll tell you later today, Abigail – I promise. It's just that I want things to be perfect, so I'm being more careful than usual."
"Hm, well now I'm really curious."
"Perfect. The snare has been set." With a sly expression, he leaned over and pet Winston beneath the table.
"You give yourself too much credit." Pulling items from the cabinets, she asked, "Cream and sugar?"
"Just a little bit."
Returning to the table with their coffee, Abigail had a seat and scooted forward in her chair. "I was just kidding about the eggs benedict, by the way. Your plate's over there."
With a wry smile, Will rose and fetched his breakfast. "You didn't have to do this, but thank you. I haven't had eggs benedict in about 15 years."
"Really?" Realizing that she was speaking with her mouth full, Abigail flushed before taking a sip of juice. "I get bored easily, so I have an extensive list of breakfast foods I like to alternate between. One day when I was little, our house flooded and I spent the week with my friend, Marissa. We had breakfast Hot Pockets every single morning. Needless to say, that won't ever be on the menu."
Will chuckled. "I hate to say it, but as a bachelor, I tend to gravitate more toward quick, easy meals like that."
"Not while I'm living here, you're not."
Winston barked and Abigail gestured toward him with purpose. "See? Your furry friend agrees with me."
"Traitor," Will said, rubbing the dog behind the ears.
The two ate in amiable silence for a while before Abigail cleared her throat, her eyes lowering toward the table. "I know what you're going to say, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask: after being able to go out with you to the morgue yesterday, I was hoping that maybe I could go with you to other places? I mean, as long as I wear a disguise, things should be okay, right?"
Will set down his fork. "I'd really rather you didn't…"
"So that's not a no?"
"It's not a yes, either."
She smiled in triumph. "Still, it's not a no, so I intend to keep trying until you say yes."
He smirked. "Your persistence is admirable. Regardless, I should probably head in to speak with Dr. Lecter."
"Fine. I'll defer the topic for now," she agreed, "but I don't give up so easily."
Will smiled and rose from the table. "I should certainly hope not. C'mon, Winston."
The dog barked and happily followed his master into the other room.
"You appear to be in high spirits today."
"I am."
Hannibal nodded. "That is quite a shift from earlier. Am I allowed to inquire as to what has brought on this sudden change?"
Folding his hands between his knees, Will shrugged, suddenly appearing beside himself. "Things are going well with Abigail," he said. "She's finally treating me like a friend."
"And that has been your goal all along?"
"Yes. Like I said, we understand one another, so having her close by is comforting."
Hannibal nodded. "And does she seem to share in your sentiment?"
"Meaning…?"
"Meaning, does Abigail seem happier? Is she making evident leaps and bounds toward becoming your friend?"
Will's face shadowed with doubt. "I think so," he said, "but I can't be certain. She might just be buttering me up since she wants to go out more. I, uh…I took her with me to the morgue the other day."
"For what purpose?"
"She wanted to speak with Hobbs."
"I see. And did it go well?"
"Not entirely… Abigail had a bit of an emotional breakdown, but I think it was good for her to learn the truth."
Hannibal shifted a bit. "And do you do this often? Go out to speak with the dead?"
"Not off company time," Will admitted, "but in this case, I couldn't help myself. I actually have to go in to the lab after this, so I can't stay long."
"And are you able to share your findings?"
Will shook his head. "No, I can't. The confidentiality agreement doesn't cover actual cases."
"Recent events would lead one to assume you're working on the high profile Ripper case."
"I can neither confirm nor deny that."
The two sat in silence for a moment, then Hannibal offered, "I could always consult on these cases, should the need ever arise. My medical and psychological background could aid in the profiling process."
Will nodded. "It's not my call to make, but I'm sure Jack would be willing to consider it." Checking his watch, he added, "Oh, uh…I forgot I needed to pick up a few items before stopping at the lab. Looks like I'm going to have to call it quits a bit early."
"Very well." Hannibal's gaze was shadowed and guarded. "Will you be in tomorrow?"
"Yes. Thank you, Dr. Lecter." Rising with a tight smile, Will grabbed his coat and headed for the door, failing to take note of his therapist's introspective expression.
When Abigail came in after walking the dogs, she heard soft music playing in the living room. Perplexed, she looked down at the chipper pack and said, "Will must be home now. C'mon, guys."
Eager, the canines followed her through the hallway and toward the front of the house, each dog skittering to a stop as Abigail halted in the entryway. She blinked at the setup before her. "What's all this?"
Turning away from his record player, Will flushed and cleared his throat. "Oh, uh…you weren't supposed to come in just yet."
"Was this my surprise?" Her expression turned into that of wry amusement.
"W-well…"
"You're all dressed up."
Appearing painfully embarrassed, Will gestured to his record player with a sigh. "It's just…I remembered you never got to go to prom, so I thought…I-I thought maybe you'd like a fake one of sorts?"
Abigail laughed. "A prom with a party of two?"
"Well…"
"It's perfect. Thank you." Her expression warmed, and Will's eyes softened.
"I got you a dress," he shyly said. "I have no idea what size you are, so I had to guestimate. And by the way? This was my first time shopping in the women's section. I'd never received so many dirty looks in all my life."
With a laugh, Abigail teased, "Well maybe you just haven't been paying attention." Now coming forward, she lifted the red, flowy dress off the back of the easy chair and felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. "It's so pretty…" Reverently, she ran her fingers along the fabric. "I've never owned a dress like this before."
"Well, you do now. It's bought and paid for, so it's all yours." Smiling at her infectious warmth, he urged, "Go ahead and try it on."
With a grin, Abigail hugged the gown to her chest and rushed off toward the bathroom. A few of the dogs tried to follow, but Will called them back to give her some privacy.
Abigail, meanwhile, gleefully peeled her clothes off in order to slip into the slinky gown. She hadn't planned on going to prom. Even with Marissa's provocation, the idea of her father ever allowing her to go out had been next to none. Prom nights were notorious for drinking, sex, and bad decisions – there was no way he ever would've condoned the request. But here with Will, Abigail felt oddly safe and content. She was lonely, absolutely, and yearned to reconnect with her friends, but the fact Will strove to protect instead of smother made her more receptive of his tactics. Perhaps therapy was helping after all.
With her dressed zipped up, Abigail clasped her hands in front of her and stepped back into the hallway. Will was fiddling with the record player again, but when he looked up this time, she was pleased to find he did a double-take. Did she really look that different?
Absently straightening the butterfly sleeves, she tried to pronounce her modest cleavage as subtly as possible. She enjoyed the way Will was currently looking at her. It made her feel powerful – in control.
"Thank you for the dress," she cheerily told him. "It fits like a glove."
"Oh…" Remembering himself, Will quickly grabbed the pair of latex gloves he'd laid out and slipped them on, sheepish as he turned back to her with a pleased little smile. "You look great," he agreed. "I didn't know what you liked, so I went ahead and brought out all my records. I'm afraid I'm not much for modern technology, so this is as good as it gets."
"You won't get any argument from me," she assured him. Abigail loved old records. Back when she was a little girl, she'd sit in the living room listening to her dad's favorite albums, her hair in braids and her knees bent as she'd either read or dance along to the varying tunes. So naturally, in this moment she was filled with warm nostalgia for better days.
Stopping before him, Abigail looked up at Will with a cant of her head. "You know, I never got to learn how to slow dance…or any dance, truthfully," she said. "I didn't get to go to Cotillion, or socials, or senior prom, and all because of my dad. It's kind of funny, thinking back…he delighted in dancing, but I guess he never wanted that for me. Or at least, not with a boy."
Abigail suddenly appeared shy and uncertain. "Maybe you could show me how? Unless, of course, you have two left feet?"
Will was startled by her request, but quickly masked it with a husky laugh. "There are far more skilled dancers equipped for the job, but I suppose I could give it a try."
"And are these 'far more skilled dancers' in your house? 'Cause from the looks of things, I only have you and your abundant dog hoard to choose from," Abigail quipped.
Will stepped forward and put his gloved hands on her waist, and Abigail felt a momentary spark of panic. Boys were always depicted by her father as cruel and lascivious, but in that instant, Will was all sweet smiles and patience. With a tremulous breath, she lifted her eyes and managed to return his gaze. "Okay, and…my hands go here?" She placed her palms against his shoulders. "Right? I've seen so many variations in the movies, so…" She trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish. "Is it weird that you're the first guy I've ever…? Well, I wouldn't say touched since we technically can't, but…?" She laughed nervously. "Never mind, I'm ruining everything. What do I do next?"
"You're doing just fine," Will assured her. "If you want to go super traditional, all you have to do is rock from side to side."
"Okay…so no dipping?"
"Not unless you want to end up in a neck brace."
Abigail laughed, her eyes crinkling warmly around the edges. As a child, she'd laughed and smiled plenty – had been certain she'd have a million laugh lines in life, in fact, but now it almost felt like smiling was an underused muscle. It was oddly pleasant to be able to express herself again. Was this what she would've been like, had her father not snapped, she wondered? Was this how it felt to be marginally human?
"That's my foot."
"Oh! Sorry," Abigail apologized, embarrassed as she quickly stepped back.
Chuckling, Will took her hand and coaxed her into a turn, the warmth of her palm bleeding through the glove into his own. "You're a natural," he told her.
"Yeah? Well it's not like there's much to it." Unbeknownst to Abigail, she looked at herself through the same critical eye as her father. Any sort of achievement was always downplayed.
Frowning, Will led her into yet another gentle revolution. "I think you're doing far better than I ever did. I mean, when I had my senior prom, I didn't get to dance because I was notorious for being a klutz."
Abigail snickered. "So you weren't asked to dance?"
"No – in fact, I was paid not to dance."
"Oh, you were not, you liar!"
Will laughed, swaying with her as he shook his head.
"Did you at least go to an after party?"
"Well, if you mean drinking a cheap bottle of wine and getting sick in the back of my friend's car, then yes. Yes, I did."
"Sounds…"
"Pathetic? Yeah, I won't deny my past shames."
"I was going to say unpleasant, but who am I to put a stop to your self-deprecation?"
Will chuckled. "As much as I'm enjoying this character assassination, I feel that I should let you know that I have other things planned for us."
"Such as?"
"Well, if my cautionary tale didn't give anything away, no fake prom is complete without a little bit of booze."
Abigail arched a brow. "You, a man of the law, want me to participate in underage drinking?"
"Only a small glass… It makes the cheesy horror films more bearable to watch."
With a bright smile, Abigail reached down and took Will's gloved hand in hers. "Alright – lead the way, Mr. Rebellious Lawbreaker."
After hours, the Quantico morgue was silent and sparse. Very few employees were present at this time of night.
One Hannibal Lecter was currently in the back hall, rushing away from the unconscious security guard he'd just put in a sleeper's hold. With the pass key in hand, he entered the storage room with dark, steely eyes. He would have to make quick work if he wanted to avoid detection.
INDIVIDUAL THANK YOUS:
-catznerd reviewed on AO3 and I replied to her there, but I wanted to give a shout-out here too, since she's been so nice and supportive! :)
-Abigill Fan: Thank you so very much! I'll admit I found the prospect daunting at first, because two people who can't touch can be quite a hurdle. :P Tbh, this is making me question why Chuck and Ned couldn't at least hold hands, because there were moments on the show that suggested they could touch if there was a thin barrier. Like, the plastic wrap was super thin, so why couldn't Ned just walk around wearing long sleeves and gloves? Problem solved (unless it's summertime lol). Anyway, I'm rambling, sorry. xD Thanks so much for your lovely words! I really appreciate it! :)
-tyu: Thank you very much! You're so sweet. :) And thanks for reading/commenting!
