I've had this idea kicking around forever, but I got distracted with the final Harry Potter movie, because I've been watching Harry Potter for a long time. So, onto this new idea.

I love playing with this pair, because they are genuinely perfect for each other.

"Hello Ms. Starling. What a pleasant surprise." Doctor Hannibal Lecter eyed her from above his book. She smiled, her pink stained lips curling in the most wonderful way. Her pony tail bobbed behind her, black dress pants and blazer fit her perfectly. She slid the silk jacket off, stretching slightly.

"Hello Doctor Lecter. I'm sorry for interrupting your reading." She smiled, West Virginia twang at a high point. He withheld a smirk. As much as he nagged her for that accent, he found it most interesting. No, he found it more than interesting… he found it endearing. He placed his bookmark into the crease with a slow motion, placing it upon four other books in a perfect stack. He ran a slender finger down the worn green cover before returning his gaze to the woman in front of the glass barrier.

"No need to apologize. I've read this book over many, many times. I have it memorized." Doctor Lecter took in her frown, knowing it was the swine by no other name than Chilton which denied him knew reading material. She sat in front of the glass, back cracking as she straightened it.

"So, why are you here Ms. Starling? Has Jack Crawford given you another quiz in attempts to dissect me? Perhaps you've found another victim of mine kicking around. Please, do what do I owe this pleasure?" Doctor Lecter knew that Clarice took his last line seriously. They had a strange connection that no one other than Barney could interpret. Clarice knew the Good Doctor didn't hate her, as he knew that Clarice didn't quite see him as a monster. It was a decent understanding.

"Oh, no reason! That's why I was worrying so much if I bothered you while reading, because I have no real reason to be here. I thought I'd swing by just to chat. Do you mind?"

"Oh, that's a lie, Ms. Starling. You came by to squeeze information about Billy for your case. I do enjoy your company, I must admit. Grace me with your presence long enough, and perhaps I'll give you a taste of what you want." A wink for good measure that had Clarice hiding a blush creeping up her neck. Of course, he noticed it all.

"That's not my motive at all! So, why have you re-read that book so many times?" Clarice leaned back, resting her weight upon her hands.

"You know why, Starling. I have five books in total. An unchanging total in which Doctor Chilton will allow me to possess. Due to the fact that no one is allowed to give me gifts or items, I must make do with the literature I have." He sat upon the ground in front of Clarice, crossing his legs. He took in the sight of Clarice's eyebrows turning upward and her lips pursing.

"He is a terrible man."

"Yes, quite. You shouldn't worry yourself with such trivial matters, Ms. Starling."

"Your wellbeing is not trivial. I need you to be content. As terrible as it seems, when you're happy you are usually more prone to talk to me about Buffalo Bill. By the way, I would not find it rude of you to call me Clarice. Not that you need my permission to call me by what name you want to and I… I'll stop talking." Clarice bit her lip and looked away. She always held a constant twinge of fear within her of sticking her foot in her mouth while speaking to such a reformed man.

"No need to trip upon your words, I appreciate the permission… Clarice." He said her name with a certain drawl that caused a shiver to shamble up Clarice's spine. She smiled at the use of her given name, his accent giving it a reformed twist. Her father said her name so much different. As the southern accent was music to hear ears, Doctor Lecter said it so differently.

"Thank you, Doctor. Aside from the book ordeal, how have you been since I was last here?"

"Are you trying to act as a therapist for me?"

"Oh no! No, I was just wondering how you are…"

"I was teasing, Clarice. I've been average. Read, watch that terrible Gospel program, talk to Barney, and exercise in my pen." He said his routine so casually, used to the everyday actions. It all seemed too mundane. Clarice pondered his lifestyle for a moment, a look of amusement overcoming her features.

"Exercise pen?" Clarice's face contorted, only imagining him in a Hamster cage partnered with a wheel.

"Yes. Perhaps when you come to visit next, you'll catch me there. We can take a lovely stroll under the florescent lights under the glaring stares of the guards who are all too afraid to approach me. It gets quite lonely, I ask them to walk and talk with me but everyone refuses my offer."

"Probably because you bit the face off a nurse… oh, that sounded much ruder than intended. I'm sorry." Clarice covered her mouth quickly, looking to the ground.

If anyone else would have said that and apologized, he would have gotten inside their head and destroyed them from the inside out. He would have used his signature cold eyes, emptying them of all life and ripping their mentally to shreds in his victims presence. Any other person would have handed him an empty apology, and been non with their day. But it wasn't any other person apologizing.

It was Clarice Starling.

Clarice Starling, the only person aside form Barney that treated him as a man with feelings and a brain instead of a monster who was dead inside. Clarice Starling, the woman with the perfect eyes that smiled without her needing to move her perfectly sculpted lips.

"Don't worry, Clarice. I understand what you're saying." Doctor Lecter held up a hand in peace, a smile overcoming her. They sat in silence for a few moments, nothing awkward about it.

"Clarice, I'm afraid you'll spoil that half way decent pants suit if you sit upon the ground for much longer. Perhaps we shall depart for today?"

"Oh," a disappointed tone filled the single word before she corrected it ", yeah, I suppose. Well, thank you for letting me interrupt your reading. Good bye, Doctor." Clarice turned upon her heels, but turned to face the glass once more. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head so softly.

"I just finished this, so you should have it." Clarice smiled once more, placing the item into the metal drawer into his cell. She nodded and curtsied softly, sliding the door shut and left him in a hurry. He walked, grabbing the gift with a soft smile.

A hard covered copy of The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud.

:D

More to come, guys!

xoxoPN