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"Go away, Will," Beverly said, not even looking up from the notes she was writing. "We don't have any cases for you."
"But the morgue always has the best air conditioning," Will said.
Baltimore was having a record heatwave and air conditioners across the city were straining to keep up. Many places—including Will's classroom where he was teaching a single summer course—were humid even with the A/C cranked. The morgue, however was still pleasantly chilly.
"Can I stay if I just sit in the corner and don't say anything? Its hot as balls out there."
"Hotter," Jimmy piped up. "It supposed to get close to 100 degrees today and that's several degrees hotter than your average scrotal temperature of 96.6—assuming we're talking strictly human scrota—"
"Do you ever stop?" Brian asked.
"You know I don't," Jimmy said without rancor.
"Don't mind them. They just like to show off for visitors," Beverly said to Will. "You can stay, but we're almost done in here, then we lock up and you have to go."
Will sat quietly and coolly on a chair and watched Beverly take notes and Brian and Jimmy clean up what looked like an already sparkling clean morgue. They finished up and shucked off labcoats. It was still blisteringly hot outside when they all emerged from the cool of the building. It was like walking into an oven. Beverly took off the cardigan she had worn in the lab with a disgusted groan.
"I can't remember Baltimore ever getting this hot," Beverly said. "I'm tempted to sleep in one of the morgue drawers tonight."
"Well, I'm going straight home and getting nude," Jimmy said. "It is too hot for clothes."
"Overshare," Brian mumbled.
"And a cold beer," Beverly said, ignoring Brian's comment. "Nudity and beer."
"That's why living in the sticks is good. No neighbors," Will said. "I can drink beer on my porch in my underpants whenever I want."
"How very redneck of you," Brian said.
"Moving around as much as I did, I can cherry pick the best parts of the cultures I experienced," Will said. "Pantsless beer drinking is a fine custom."
"Are going to have a rifle across your lap too or is that just for special occasions?" Brian asked.
"Can I come?" Beverly asked.
"Come to what?" Will said, confused.
"Can I come to drink beer in my underpants on your porch?"
Will thought for a moment, and then decided to play along and call Beverly's bluff.
"Oh, sure," he said. "You are all invited. I'm having a 'no pants' party at my place. The only rules are bring a cold six-pack and leave your pants at home."
Will got into his car and shut the door.
"You are going to do it, aren't you?" Brian said to Beverly as Will drove off.
"Oh yeah."
"Count me in," said Jimmy.
* * *
Will actually was in his underpants when the car pulled up in the driveway. It was still too hot for clothes and too hot to be inside where the air was stagnant. He ventured out on the porch, beer in hand.
Beverly got out of the car first, wearing a tank top and bikini briefs. Jimmy and Brian were wearing boxers and boxer briefs respectively and the longest tee shirts they could find.
The each carried a six pack.
"This borders on being inappropriate for coworkers," Will said.
"I wear less at the beach," Beverly said. "I would go to the beach with a coworker. I don't see the problem."
"Context matters."
"The context is I am not nearly drunk enough to be this undressed," Jimmy said. "Let's fix that."
Together they dragged out chairs, and found a cooler which they filled with the pitiful ice from Will's freezer. Will didn't have anything to play music on, so Beverly put his clock radio in the window and turned it to the classic rock station. They chatted and drank and put their feet up on the railing. Everyone got enough of a buzz that they stopped feeling awkward. Will took off his tee shirt and mopped his face with it. Brian took off his shirt and tried to toss it over the railing but it fell in the yard. He left it where it fell and the dogs snuffled at it. It was just too damn hot to care.
"Will, you were right," Beverly said fanning her neck, in a very Southern Belle manner. "This is the life. We need to make this a thing, you know. No Pants Club. We should have a charter and a manifesto. I declare that the first rule of no pants club is 'tell everyone about No Pants Club'. Let's invite some more people. I have a great idea. Everyone has to call up one person and invite them to the no pants party."
"That is a terrible idea," Brian said.
"I'll put my money where my mouth is," Beverly said and picked up her phone. She dialed. "Hello, Alana?"
Will's eyes went wide and he shook his head. Alana was already wary of him and when she heard this she's going to think he's running FBI orgies out of his quaint farmhouse.
Beverly walked with the phone down to the other end of the porch so the men couldn't hear the conversation. When she was done she turned back to them.
"She's on her way. Now its you losers' turns."
"All right. I'll see you and raise you, Katz." Jimmy made a show of dialing his phone. "Hello, Jack?"
This time Brian looked horrified, but Will and Beverly just smiled.
"Uh-huh…We're out at Will Graham's house…no, nothing is wrong…we're having a 'no pants' party…yes, pants, pants…it involves wearing no pants and drinking beer…yes…borderline inappropriate…"
Will mouthed to Beverly told you so.
Jimmy kept going, although his face had gotten serious. "Yes, I'm sorry, sir…no I won't…I understand."
"How fired are you?" Brian asked when he hung up.
Jimmy broke out into a wide toothy smile. "You wish. I'm not fired. Jack is coming."
"Well, shit," Beverly said.
"I feel like I should own nicer underpants," Will said.
"You realize now the bar has been raised," Jimmy said. "Who are you going to invite, Bri?"
Brian looked at his phone. He was thinking of someone, Will could tell. Someone we wanted to invite but couldn't. It was someone he had mixed feelings about and wished he could socialize with in a relaxed setting. Who has their hooks in you, Brian?
"I'm going to call Sal," Brian said.
That wasn't who you were thinking of.
Beverly and Jimmy booed him. Sal worked at the morgue and was a nice guy with a good sense of humor. Not on the same level as inviting their boss.
"What do you want me to do? You already invited Jack."
Sal told Brian it sounded like fun, but he was busy and he should call earlier next time.
"Weak," Beverly said.
And then they all looked at Will.
He could only think of one person left to call, and thanks to a nip from Jimmy's flask, he was drunk enough to do it. He dialed the phone.
"Will," said the voice on the other end. "To what to I owe the pleasure of a phone call? Nothing wrong, I hope."
"Not at all, Dr. Lecter," Will said, feeling his pulse quicken. He was hoping to get voicemail. "We're having a little get together at my house—I know it’s a bit of a drive and I'd understand if you can't make it--but I was wondering if you want to come? Its informal, just some beer and…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. His distress was so acute that he didn't register Beverly reaching for the phone until she snatched it out of his hand.
"Hi, this is Beverly Katz from the crime lab."
"Hello, Ms. Katz. Are you partaking in these informal festivities with Will?"
"I am. It's kind of a theme party though. It’s a 'Too Hot for Pants' Party."
"Too hot for…pants?"
Will mouthed Beverly, no. She mouthed back, Beverly, yes.
"Pants. Like, trousers," she translated in case it was a language barrier issue. "The only rules are you have to bring beer and leave your pants at home."
"Ms. Katz. You sound intoxicated. I do not think it would be wise for Will and I to cross the barrier of…pantslessness at this point. My presence might bring him unnecessary embarrassment."
"You aren't really his psychiatrist, right? You're just friends. I think it would be great if Will's friends support his efforts to be sociable." She adopted a confidential tone. "I know it's weird, but just play along. This is really good for Will to not be so isolated."
Will got the feeling that there was a kernel of truth in what Beverly was saying. This was more than just a goofy joke that got out of hand, it was an intervention of sorts.
"Sweet Home Alabama" played on the radio.
"I defer to your opinion," Hannibal said. "I'll be there in a little over an hour."
* * *
In the meantime, Jack and Alana showed up. Jack wore a tee shirt and board shorts. Jimmy gave him a look. "What?" Jack said, and Jimmy decided not to make an issue of it.
Alana arrived wearing a man's button down shirt in a size so big it covered her more than her dresses did. She brought beer and bag of barbeque chips. Brian and Jack wandered into the kitchen to find a bowl for them and Jimmy was playing a rowdy game of fetch with the dogs. The sun was just starting to set but it didn't feel much cooler yet. Beverly found a box fan and was trying to set it up on the porch for maximum effect.
"Nice shirt," Will said to Alana.
"It belonged to a guy I dated," she said. "Kept the shirt, lost the guy. I think I got the better end of the deal."
She sat down next to Will. He couldn't help noticing the shirt rode up on her thighs when she sat.
"Do you do this often? Host risqué parties?" she asked.
"I'm not even sure I'm hosting this one," he said, nodding at Beverly. "I don't know if she told you, but No Pants Club is serious business."
"Is that right?"
"Yes. The first rule of No Pants Club is you tell everyone about No Pants Club. So who are you going to invite?"
"Who did you invite?"
"Hannibal."
Alana laughed. "Really?"
"Peer pressure," Will said. "He accepted, by the way."
She laughed again, throwing her head back. She was enjoying Will's discomfort way too much.
"You should invite Dr. Chilton," Will said.
"No!" she said.
"You have to invite someone, Alana," Beverly yelled over the roar of the fan. "Its the rules."
Eventually Alana called, but chickened out when she got his voicemail and said "It's Alana Bloom. Call me back when you get this. It's something about Will Graham."
"You didn't mention the part about the pants," Beverly said.
"I'm not leaving a message for the head of the hospital for the criminally insane asking him to take his pants off," Alana said. "Could you imagine what that would do to me professionally? I would have to leave Baltimore."
"Who knows? It might help you career," Will said. "Maybe he's just waiting for you to ask."
"Ew," Alana said.
Will didn't say anything else because at that moment, a Bentley pulled up his driveway.
"Shit," he said to no one in particular. "He actually came."
"Twenty bucks says he's wearing pants," Beverly said.
Jimmy had left the dogs and was sitting on the stairs. "You got it. And another ten says he's wearing silk boxers."
Will could see he was at least dressed to the waist. He could make out a button-down shirt. No tie.
The driver's door opened, blocking the view from the house. Hannibal put one foot on the ground and Will could see a shoe, a sock…and a glimpse of bare calf. Will lifted his chin to get a better view, realized what he was straining to see and looked away. He heard the door slam shut.
"Damn. He's got nice legs," Beverly said.
"You have to admire his style," Jimmy said. "Even if it means I'm out ten bucks."
Will looked up.
Hannibal was wearing a kilt.
Will gaped as Hannibal walked, pleated plaid swaying against bare knees.
"Thank you for the invitation, Will" he said, when he made his way up the stairs. "I brought some of my own brew. I age it in wine barrels. It gives it a distinct flavor. I also took the liberty of bringing something to eat. It isn't good to drink on an empty stomach."
"I made pizza rolls," Beverly said.
"That will complement the bruschetta nicely," he said. "I'll go put this in the kitchen."
"Hey, I heard its tradition not to wear anything under a kilt," Beverly said. Hannibal paused on his way inside.
"I am under that impression as well," he said, a faint smile on his lips.
"How much of a traditionalist are you, Dr. Lecter?"
"You don't know me very well, Ms. Katz, but you will find I go to great lengths to be authentic," he said, and then went inside the house.
Alana leaned over and said sotto voce in Will's ear "You will have so much to talk about in therapy next week."
Will had to agree.