Chapter Text
Beverly spots Dr. Lecter’s Bentley as it pulls up to the crime scene, a bit behind where all the other FBI vehicles are parked. Now that he and Will are here - Jack had told her they were arriving together - they’ll be able to actually get some work done. Jack always prefers it if Will can get to a crime scene before they’ve touched it too much.
It’s her job to touch, though, so touch she does - though she does so carefully, and without disturbing anything more than necessary. She understands in a vague sense how Will’s empathy-intuition thing works, how he picks up little details of how things lay, splatter patterns, etc., and sees in his mind’s eye how things may have played out, so she’s careful not to move anything too far from where it was found.
Brian is not nearly so careful, but in his defense, he doesn’t move anything that hasn’t been photographed and marked already. That’s how things are supposed to work, anyway, and neither he nor Jimmy are particularly fond of how Jack seems to take Will’s word as gospel, like he’s some kind of psychic who’s actually seeing through the eyes of the killer.
It’s been almost five minutes by the time she realizes that despite Hannibal’s car having arrived, he and Will have yet to arrive on-scene. She’s kind of surprised Will didn’t hop out of the car the second it stopped moving. Carefully, she places down the piece of evidence she’d been examining, and stands, scanning the area for either of them. She can see Jack, Brian, Jimmy, several other field agents, and some local police - but no Hannibal, and no Will. Hannibal’s car is still right where she saw it pull up, though.
Curiosity gets the better of her, and she makes her way over to the car. As she approaches, it becomes very clear why they haven’t come out onto the scene yet - Will is leaning over the center console, giving Hannibal a little road head - Hannibal’s hand is gripping Will’s hair, and his own head is tipped back, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open in pleasure.
Beverly glances back behind her to make sure no one else is looking their way, before tapping on the driver’s side window with her knuckle. She smiles at the way they both jump at the sound, Will freezing in place, looking up and locking eyes with her through the window, and Hannibal blinking dazedly back to himself. After a moment, he rolls the window down about halfway, as Will scrambles to both sit upright, and cover Hannibal’s lap.
“You two might want to hurry it up in there, people are going to start wondering why you haven’t come out yet,” she says, smirking.
“Of course. Thank you, Miss Katz.” It’s incredible how perfectly even and cordial Hannibal can sound even when he’s been interrupted in the middle of receiving a blowjob.
“I can stall for you for another couple minutes,” Beverly says, as she notices Jack looking at her, “but I’m not keeping your secret. I’ve got a hundred bucks to collect.” With one more tap on the half-opened window, she strides over to Jack to distract him, taking note as she gets Jack to turn his back towards the car that Hannibal has rolled the window back up, and Will is no longer in view through the windshield. Naughty bastards.
Once the pair finally steps out of the car - looking shockingly well put-together for what she knows just went down - she makes her way over to Jimmy and Brian, who are both still working near the body.
“Alright, pay up, you two. I just caught Will giving Hannibal head in his car.” She holds her hand out palm-up, and curls her fingers up a couple times.
“What?! No way!” Brian shouts, at the same time that Jimmy lets out an exaggerated gasp.
“Oh yes, way. Come on, hand it over.”
“Absolutely not, no way, I need proof,” Brian gripes.
Jimmy, however, is already pulling out his wallet. “At a crime scene! How positively scandalous~”
Will, Hannibal, and Jack walk up to them then - Jack’s giving her a weird look, as Jimmy slaps a $50 into her hand, and waggles his eyebrows at Will. Will hunches his shoulders and stares resolutely at the body, refusing to look any of them in the eye.
“You’re kidding me, ” Brian says. “No fucking way!”
Will clears his throat, but it does nothing to help how hoarse his voice is from the throat-fucking he just got. “Would you please shut up?” Brian’s jaw drops.
“Come on,” Jack says, looking between them like he knows he’s missed something but has no clue what it might be, “Clear the scene everyone. Give Will some space.”
Brian grudgingly pulls out his wallet and hands Beverly his $50 as they walk off.
—
“It’s the Ripper,” Will says, once he’s finished his reconstruction of the scene.
Jack nods. He’d thought as much already. “Are you feeling alright, Will? You sound a little rough.”
Will clears his throat, but it doesn’t seem to help much. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’re not getting sick on us, are you? I need you in your best shape if the Ripper is starting a new sounder.”
“I’m fine, Jack. Really.”
“Dr. Lecter, you’ll make sure Will is taking care of himself, right?” Will rolls his eyes.
“Of course, Jack. I’m certain Will and I can determine the cause of his rasping voice, and have it resolved in no time.” He smiles, looking at Will - and Will glares daggers right back. Interesting.
“Good. Alright, back to work everyone!”