Unintentional Meeting

By Sherilovinglecter

Nothing but the plot belongs to me.

I have completely rewritten this story; so if it's familiar, it is because I started again. I wrote this a couple of years ago and my writing has changed drastically since. I couldn't in good conscience leave a piece of work up that I wasn't satisfied with, I will be doing the same to my other writing.

Chapter 1

The aging members of the Studiolo had just departed from the long oak table that sat, ominous in its appearance, made even more so by the man left standing there collecting his things. He was known by the scholars as Dr Fell, his eyes narrow as he hears footsteps, it is a cheap clacking sound made by second rate shoes. His nostrils flare and a flicker of distaste crosses his features as the smell of sweat, cheap cologne and stale cigarette smoke infiltrate his senses, he files it away, ignoring it as the man approaches.

"Dr Fell?"

A short, politely strained conversation followed about the previous curator of the Capponi Library, who was now mysteriously missing with no trace to his whereabouts. As the short pungent man walked away, the eyes of Dr Fell seemed to flash red pinpoints of light within his pupils, his smooth tone of voice echoed around the hall as he spoke.

"You've been reassigned."

The Doctor took a moment to admire the acoustics created by the high ceilings and ancient walls as Inspecter Pazzi froze, processing what he had heard; before turning with a polite smile on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"You were on the IL Mostro case, I'm sure I read."

Inspector Pazzi seemed to assess the Doctor for a moment before stepping forward, his eyes not meeting the strange red pupils of this man before him; perhaps he wore special contact lenses? Scholars these days…

"I am afraid you are mistaken sir, I am still on Il Mostro. I am merely covering this case until the real professional arrives, I owed a favor." He smiled in a way he was sure was quite charming, though the Doctor did not return the expression.

"I see." Was the only reply he got, Dr Fell seemed to be considering something, no doubt his thoughts were on the unfortunate person who would be landed with this case, as they would also end up interviewing him. Well, good luck to them; in Pazzi's opinion, this place was creepy. Anything steeped in this much bloody history felt wrong, he didn't know how the man before him could actually live in such a place.

"I will send whoever it is over to collect your predecessor's belongings when they arrive; I believe they are still there?"

"Mhm packed neatly in two suitcases with an inventory, alas no note."

He nodded; offering a goodbye before turning on the heel of his cheap shoes and leaving, two other men stood from their seats to follow behind him, leaving wisps of smoke in their wake.

-o-

The very next evening Hannibal Lecter is sat at a sixteenth century desk, carved intricately with symbols and art, his strong hands are shifting through papers whilst his eyes occasionally scan across them as he plans for the annual Capponi ball. Dr Lecter ignores the irritating trill of the phone as it echoed through the library, his hand neatly ticks off names with his elaborate quill as a thickly accented voice speaks to the answering machine.

"Hello Dr Fell, it's Inspector Pazzi I am calling to inform you that the agent investigating the case is on her way."

Dr Lecter smirked devilishly, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head in thought. The agent was a woman, this suited him perfectly, Dr Lecter was not a vain man but knew of his appeal to the fairer sex. They found him elegant, intriguing, mysterious and charming. He knew his old fashioned manners made many a woman's interest in him suddenly peak. He stood gracefully and moved through the place silently, the building itself made more noise than the man living within it as he disabled the alarm system ready for the agent when she arrived.

He moved to the beautiful piano that sat in the center of the room, rolling his shoulders as he sat and began playing, the soft notes of Bach filling the room. He smiled as he hummed along, the cuffs of his crisp white shirt brushing the keys of the piano as he tilted his sleek head; his hair was of course slicked back. When he heard the unmistakable sound of car doors slamming his eyes slowly opened and he stood and moved to the window whilst the last notes still echoed throughout the room.

Dr Lecter blinked as he watched two people, rather than one, exit the black car. He narrowed his eyes and pushed away the minor irritation the contact lenses he was wearing caused him. His maroon eyes were too easily distinguishable, he had seen the look of suspicion on Pazzi's face when he'd noticed his eyes, so decided he would have to wear contacts to make himself less identifiable, though green really was not his colour it diffused the maroon nicely.

Dr Lecter noted that a man accompanied the female, whilst he had known there was a possibility she would not arrive alone, he had not anticipated it. There was no need for two agents; he had already been interviewed once. He moved with catlike grace to the two-way speaker feed turning it on so that he might listen to their conversation as he watched them make their way up the stairs via the grainy CCTV. Though he could not see her face, Dr Lecter could tell by the female's body language that she was agitated, he watched on as the man's accented voice filtered through the speakers.

"It will only take five minutes then I can take you for a drink." The man was Italian and quite blatantly flirting with the female and if the look she threw him was anything to go by, she wasn't impressed.

"As I said before Agent Benneti, I could have done this alone, I am perfectly capable."

Dr Lecter's breathing stopped for a moment as Clarice Starling's West Virginian drawl filled his room, he shut his eyes, momentarily allowing himself the pleasure of hearing her voice and placing it in his memory palace. His eyes snapped open as he concluded his efforts at concealing his identity would not be enough with her, Clarice would recognize him instantly, even with contacts, a Brazilian accent and minor collagen surgery.

"I really don't mind escorting you Clarice." The man's tone held a suggestive lilt, one that made Dr Lecter tilt his head as he observed her reaction.

"It's Agent Starling." He smirked, and couldn't help but chuckle softly. This overly ambitious young man wanted to be careful.

"Are you always this professional Agent Starling?"

"Yes." Dr Lecter saw her glare at him as she replied whilst walking up the stairs. Agent Benneti's roaming gaze was moving over Clarice's backside whilst walking up the stairs behind her. Anger flared in the Doctor as his eyes narrowed and with a flick of his wrist, his harpy appeared in his hand.

"What about that drink?"

Clarice stopped abruptly and turned around to face Benneti, who due to the stairs was several inches lower than her, this only served to enhance her status as being in control.

"Let's get one thing straight Agent Benneti, I am here on orders from the FBI. They feel I need a 'break' after the Evelda Drumgo incident, they tried to put me on leave and when I refused they sent me here doing police work. I am not here to be hit upon, lusted after or drooled upon by anyone, our relationship is at best, professional. Do you understand?"

Dr Lecter chuckled as the whelp nodded dumbly and lowered his gaze. This apparently pleased Clarice as a familiar smirk curved her mouth upward in triumph.

"Good, after you." she said, motioning the remainder of the stairs.