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Once, Jack and Will went out for dinner after wrapping up a particularly tough case. Jack, as usual, insisted that Will pick the place since he always seemed to know where to find decent food. To Jack’s surprise, Will chose a refined French restaurant—the kind of place where the waiter judged your worth before even taking your order.
“Didn’t peg you for this kind of place,” Jack remarked, flipping through the menu.
Will shrugged. “I… come here sometimes.”
The waiter, a tall and elegantly dressed man, appeared with a discreet smile. “Monsieur Graham, always a pleasure to have you. The usual?”
Jack blinked. Monsieur Graham?
“Yes, please,” Will answered without hesitation.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “The usual? You come here that often?”
Will picked up the glass of wine the waiter brought without even asking and took a sip before answering. “Let’s just say I know the chef.”
Jack didn’t notice the waiter’s small smile as he walked away, nor Will’s resigned look. He was too busy trying to figure out how the same man who once ate a greasy fast-food burger in front of him without blinking had a standing order at a high-end French restaurant.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
One morning, Jack arrived at the FBI early and found a small package on Will’s desk. The wrapping was elegant, and next to it lay an envelope with Will’s name written in impeccable handwriting.
Jack couldn’t resist. “What’s this? A secret admirer?”
Will grabbed the package quickly, but not before Jack caught a glimpse of a box of fine chocolates inside.
“It’s… nothing.”
Jack snatched the envelope before Will could stop him and opened it without ceremony. “‘Forgive me for last night. With love, H.’”
Jack whistled. “So there’s an ‘H’ in the picture? Don’t tell me you finally got yourself a relationship?”
Will yanked the note from his hands. “It’s not like that.”
Jack chuckled. “Looks like someone slept on the couch last night.”
Will huffed and shoved the note into his pocket. Jack let it go, amused that someone was sending Will gifts. What he didn’t realize was that, the night before, Hannibal had neglected to mention a certain unusual ingredient in their dinner, and Will only figured it out after the first bite.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Once, Jack walked in on Will speaking fluent French over the phone.
He crossed his arms and waited for Will to finish. When the call ended, he teased, “Didn’t know you spoke French. Keeping skills from us now?”
Will shrugged. “Picked up a little here and there.”
Jack laughed. “Sounds like more than a little. Who was that?”
Will hesitated, then said, “An educational institution.”
Jack frowned. “You applying for a master’s or something?”
“Something like that.”
Jack clapped Will on the back. “Well, good luck with that.”
If he had paid a little more attention, he would have noticed the small smile on Will’s face as he glanced at the photo on his phone—a sharp-eyed twelve-year-old girl and a mischievous eight-year-old boy.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack had never paid much attention to Will’s accessories, mostly because Will’s whole aesthetic screamed scruffy professor who doesn’t care about fashion. But one day, during a particularly long briefing, he noticed something.
Will kept adjusting the chain around his neck, as if uncomfortable. Jack had seen him wear it before, but today, the pendant hanging from it slipped out from under his shirt.
A gold ring.
Jack frowned. “Didn’t take you for a jewelry guy.”
Will quickly tucked the ring back under his shirt. “I’m not.”
Jack squinted. “That looked like a wedding ring.”
“It’s… sentimental.”
Jack leaned back in his chair. “What, like a family heirloom?”
Will hesitated a fraction too long. “Something like that.”
Jack hummed. “Huh. You always did strike me as the sentimental type.”
Will nodded once, as if the conversation was over. And Jack, satisfied with his own observation, let it go.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack had to update the emergency contact list for the team. Standard procedure.
“Will, who should we put down as your emergency contact?” Jack asked, not expecting anything interesting.
Will hesitated. “Uh… just leave it as it is.”
Jack glanced at the file. “It just says ‘H. Lecter.’”
Will tensed. “Yeah.”
Jack shrugged. “Makes sense. He’s your psychiatrist, right? I suppose he’d know what to do if your brain finally fried itself.”
Will exhaled slowly. “Right. Exactly.”
Jack jotted it down and moved on without another thought.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack wasn’t sure why Will had a child’s drawing in his desk drawer, but he found it while looking for a pen.
It was a simple crayon drawing—two stick figures holding hands, one with curly hair, the other with glasses. Above them, written in large, wobbly letters: PAPA ET PÈRE.
Jack squinted at it. “Huh.”
Will, returning to his desk, froze.
Jack held up the paper. “Didn’t know you mentored kids.”
Will snatched the drawing from him with practiced speed. “It’s nothing.”
Jack smirked. “Nothing? Looks like some kid sees you as a father figure.”
Will shoved the drawing into his pocket. “Something like that.”
Jack, not knowing how right he was, just laughed. “Well, good for you.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack was in Will’s office when Will’s phone rang. The name on the screen was simply “M.”
Will stared at it for a second before answering in French. “Oui, ma chérie?”
Jack blinked. Will speaks French again?
Will’s expression softened—something Jack never saw happen. He listened for a moment, then sighed. “Non, Nicholas doit partager avec toi.”
Jack leaned in. “Who’s Nicholas?”
Will’s eyes widened like he’d forgotten Jack was there. “Uh—wrong number.”
Jack tilted his head. “A wrong number, but you knew the kid’s name?”
Will cleared his throat. “Long story.”
Jack, for once, felt like maybe he should question this further. Then Will distracted him by bringing up an ongoing case, and Jack immediately forgot about it.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack had seen plenty of bizarre medical notes in his time—agents getting weird injuries, absurdly dramatic doctor’s recommendations—but Will’s latest one made him pause.
He skimmed the paper. “Will, what the hell does ‘spousal insistence on dietary adjustments’ mean?”
Will snatched the note from Jack’s hand. “It means my doctor has opinions.”
Jack frowned. “Wait—this is from Lecter.”
Will’s jaw tightened. “And?”
Jack huffed. “Come on, Will. You let your shrink dictate your diet?”
Will crossed his arms. “Do you want me to keep having stress-induced hallucinations, Jack?”
Jack held up his hands. “Fine, fine. Just weird phrasing. ‘Spousal insistence’—sounds like you’re married.” He laughed.
Will gave him a tight smile and walked away.
Jack shook his head, amused. “Guy barely dates, and I’m out here thinking he’s got a wife.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
One day, Jack and Will were heading out for an investigation when Will’s phone buzzed.
Will sighed, glancing at the message. Jack caught a glimpse of it. A picture of a cake, candles shaped into a “12,” and a message: Joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie!
Jack smirked. “Didn’t know you celebrated birthdays, Will.”
Will locked his phone. “It’s… not mine.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Who’s turning twelve?”
Will hesitated. “Uh… a friend’s kid.”
Jack snorted. “What, do you send them gifts too?”
Will looked very uncomfortable. Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t take you for a ‘cool uncle’ type.”
Will forced a chuckle. “Yeah. Cool uncle. That’s me.”
Jack never noticed the relieved exhale Will let out.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack and Will were at the airport, waiting for a flight to a crime scene in another state. Will stepped away to grab coffee, leaving his carry-on unattended.
A few minutes later, an airline staff member approached. “Excuse me, sir,” she said to Jack, “is this your bag?”
Jack shook his head. “No, it’s my colleague’s.”
She smiled. “I just wanted to confirm—this tag says ‘Graham-Lecter.’ Is that correct?”
Jack blinked. “Graham-Lecter?”
Will returned just in time. “Yes, that’s correct,” he said smoothly, taking the bag before Jack could inspect it.
Jack frowned. “Graham-Lecter?”
Will sipped his coffee. “Baggage mix-up. Happens all the time.”
Jack scratched his head. “Weird. Never knew you hyphenated your name.”
Will patted his bag. “Must be a clerical error.”
Jack let it go.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
One afternoon, Jack was in Will’s office when an email popped up on Will’s laptop.
Subject: Absence Justification – Misha and Nicholas Lecter
Jack frowned. “You got an email from a school.”
Will closed his laptop in record time. “Spam.”
Jack squinted. “Spam about two kids with the last name Lecter?”
Will cleared his throat. “Weird phishing scam.”
Jack shook his head. “Man, scammers are getting creative.”
Will nodded. “Yeah. Crazy world.”
Jack never thought about it again.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack was waiting for Will in the parking garage when Will dropped his keys. As Will bent down to pick them up, Jack noticed something odd—a second car key fob, one far too fancy for Will’s beat-up old truck.
Jack picked it up before Will could. “This yours?”
Will grabbed it quickly. “Yep.”
Jack smirked. “Since when do you drive a luxury car?”
Will shoved the keys in his pocket. “It’s… not mine.”
Jack tilted his head. “Borrowing someone’s?”
Will’s lips thinned. “Something like that.”
Jack chuckled. “Didn’t know you had a sugar daddy, Will.”
Will’s expression didn’t change. “You’d be surprised.”
Jack laughed. Will did not.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack and Will were on a stakeout, eating stale vending machine snacks, when Will pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Jack glanced at it.
GROCERY LIST
-
Lamb
-
Veal
-
Red wine
-
Fresh rosemary
-
Kid’s vitamins (strawberry flavor)
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You meal prepping for someone?”
Will snatched the paper away. “Something like that.”
Jack chuckled. “Didn’t peg you as a ‘kids’ vitamins’ kind of guy.”
Will shoved the list into his pocket. “I have a sensitive stomach.”
Jack just nodded. “Huh. Makes sense.”
It did not.
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
At the FBI’s Christmas party, Jack handed Will a bottle of whiskey. “Figured you could use something strong.”
Will nodded. “Thanks.”
Then, Alana appeared, holding a wrapped gift. “Will, someone left this for you.”
Will took it, instantly recognizing the elegant wrapping. He unwrapped it carefully—inside was a handwritten note and an expensive watch.
Jack whistled. “Damn, someone likes you.”
Will read the note silently: You always lose track of time. Love, H.
Jack smirked. “Secret admirer?”
Will pocketed the watch. “Something like that.”
Jack laughed. “Man, I need to meet this ‘H.’”
Will muttered, “No, you don’t.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
One winter morning, Jack met Will in the parking lot and frowned. “That’s not your coat.”
Will adjusted the expensive wool overcoat, clearly too refined for his usual look. “It was cold.”
Jack chuckled. “What, you steal it?”
Will’s jaw tightened. “Borrowed it.”
Jack squinted. “From who?”
Before Will could answer, Jack reached into the pocket and pulled out a pair of Italian leather gloves. Inside one, embroidered initials: H.L.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “H.L.?”
Will snatched them back. “It’s… a thrift store find.”
Jack laughed. “Damn, even your thrift stores are fancy.”
Will sighed. “Something like that.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack and Will were reviewing case files when a sleek black envelope fell from Will’s pocket. Jack picked it up, reading the gold lettering.
“Opera tickets?” Jack frowned. “Didn’t think you were into that.”
Will grabbed the envelope. “I’m not.”
Jack smirked. “Then why do you have front-row seats to La Traviata?”
Will hesitated. “A… friend gave them to me.”
Jack chuckled. “Must be a rich friend.”
Will forced a smile. “You have no idea.”
Jack leaned back. “Man, first the fancy restaurant, now this? You leading a double life?”
Will exhaled. “Something like that.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack noticed something odd during a case briefing. Will, who usually didn’t wear anything fancy, had an expensive watch on his wrist.
“New watch?” Jack asked.
Will glanced at it. “It was a gift.”
Jack whistled. “Damn, must’ve cost a fortune.”
Will shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
Jack leaned in. “From your mystery ‘H’?”
Will sighed. “Yes.”
Jack laughed. “Man, you must be really special to them.”
Will muttered, “You have no idea.”
Jack shook his head. “If they’re that rich, maybe I should get them to like me too.”
Will smirked. “Good luck with that.”
━━━━━━ • 🫀 • ━━━━━━
Jack bumped into Will on Monday morning. “You look well-rested.”
Will shrugged. “Took the weekend off.”
Jack crossed his arms. “Where’d you go?”
Will hesitated. “Just… a cabin.”
Jack frowned. “Alone?”
Will’s silence lasted too long.
Jack smirked. “Ohhh. Not alone.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Drop it, Jack.”
Jack laughed. “Come on, I need details. Who’s the lucky person?”
Will sighed. “Just a… friend.”
Jack nudged him. “A friend who books fancy getaways?”
Will muttered, “He likes the mountains.”
Jack grinned. “He?”
Will groaned. “Forget I said anything.”