Gepardo on Tumblr had an idea that if Mr. Gold and Hannibal had dinner together, Mr. Gold would be completely aware of what he was really eating but he would still finish the whole meal.

Obviously I don't own anything. If I did Rumplestiltskin would have would have his own season and Hannibal would have more episodes per season.

ENJOY!

The door to Hannibal Lecter's office received three confident knocks at exactly 4:00 pm Tuesday evening. The psychiatrist grinned as he slowly lowered his book. He looked toward the door, and listened. As he thought, three more firm knocks followed only about fifteen seconds after the first three. Hannibal stood, and very casually made his way to the door. He stopped only a few feet away and listened again, his smirk growing slowly as the seconds ticked on. He knew that punctuality and confidence like the back of his hand.

"What are you doing back here old friend?" He wondered silently, not speaking or moving as he waited for the next three knocks. As he predicted, they came after another solid fifteen seconds. He reached out and turned the knob, opening the door to reveal a sharply dressed man, leaning impatiently on a sleek black cane. The mans shoulder-length light brown hair had gained a few grey patches since they had last seen each other, and he looked like he had aged quite a bit in the four years they had been out of contact.

"Why does it take you so long to answer your damn door? Half your clients will have left before you open the bloody thing." Yep, same old Gold. Hannibal suppressed a chuckle, he should have known that businessman R. Gold would never change his ways.

"Nice to see you too old friend. Won't you come in?" Hannibal invited, stepping aside to allow the older man entry. Mr. Gold scowled, and pushed past the psychiatrist. He closed the door and followed as the man limped to the middle of the room and immediately sat in his old chair. Strait to business, as always. Hannibal picked up some papers and made an immediate note.

"What brings you out of Sleepyriver Maine hmm?"

"Storybrooke." Gold corrected almost angrily. "The psychiatrist I switched to after the relocation is much less understanding. I'm having come drastic complications as of late, and unfortunately, the good Doctor Hopper and I seem to be having quite a bit of trouble-... Connecting, on certain things."

"And so you flew all the way here to see me?" Hannibal asked, feeling slightly confused.

"Oh no. I've flown once and only once in my entire life, and I do NOT plan on doing it ever, EVER again." The older man scoffed.

"I see, should I add airplanes to your phobia list?" Hannibal joked in the only way he could with Mr. Gold.

"Oh would you?" Gold mocked, folding this hands in a begging position and batting his eyes.

"Of corse. Where would you like it?Between Abandonment and loss of power? Or underneath being socially branded as a coward?" He asked, returning his ex-patients playful smirk.

"Just put it on the bottom." Mr. Gold scoffed in surprise, his brow furrowing. "I like your new sense of humor. Since when do you banter?"

"I've been getting out a bit more, eating better and trying to loosen up."

"I never thought I'd live to hear Hannibal Lecter try to "loosen up"... Incredible. Quite the plot twist eh?" He laughed, leaning back in the chair and finally opening to investigation. You had to do quite a bit of work to get a nut like Gold to crack, but Lecter knew just where to put the pressure.

"So tell me Gold, under what circumstances do you need to discuss something so badly that you drove all the way here to see me?"

"I've found my son. He was in New York. We've sorted some things out already, things are still pretty crazy though, and he's still angry at me, but- I know some things now, and I've been having strange dreams. I don't think they're important, it's probably just stress but-... He's getting married." He finished with a deep sigh.

"Well congratulations." Hannibal nodded, taking some notes.

"It's not a good thing!" He shouted suddenly, pounding his fist against the arm of the chair. "It's- I mean, it's a good thing but-... It's not-... It's a good thing but it's not- good." He sighed, rubbing his temples as if he suddenly got a huge headache. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and just sat with his head bowed.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Hannibal frowned as he leaned forward.

"My son is marrying a woman who has this son. My son's son, so my biological grandson. The problem is-, you see, this fortune teller told me that the boy would be my undoing. I'm endangered by him, but I can't do anything about it. He's my grandson."

"I see... You know Mr. Gold, I think it would be best if I had you for dinner. How about we discuss this over steaks and a glass of wine?" Hannibal offered, raising one eyebrow.

"I'd prefer a hamburger and a beer." Gold smirked back.

Hannibal poured the beer and handed one of the glasses to his guest. Mr. Gold had set his cane to lean against the table as he sat before a delectable smelling hamburger served on a perfectly decorated plate. He remembered Hannibal's ability to create pure art when he cooked. He had forgotten how good it smelled, and he vaguely remembered that it was some of the best food he'd tasted.

"This looks positively exquisite Hannibal. Well done once again." He complimented, taking a test sip of his perfectly brewed beer. He'd already been introduced to the process in which Mr. Lecter made his own beer.

"Thank you very much. Please, enjoy." Hannibal grinned, he was always satisfied by the compliments he received on his cooking. It was like his own little show as the guests praised his meat-crafting skills, being completely unaware of what they were eating. He took a bite at the same time that Gold did, being sure to watch intently but discretely. He saw as Gold bit into the hamburger and his eyes lit up, but not in the way other eyes did. He looked suddenly enlightened.

Hannibal watched warily as Gold chewed, swallowed, then washed it down with a swig of alcohol. The pawnbroker smirked wolfishly at the psychiatrist for a long moment. Hannibal felt a pang of fear deep in his gut. Gold was making certain that he knew. He knew the secret. They remained at the crossroads, staring at each other, one in hidden fear, and the other in obvious taunting. Then, his smirk widened and he spoke.

"Positively delicious." Gold nodded, picking up the burger again and taking another bite, never breaking eye contact.

Hannibal was actually quite impressed. After the third bite, Gold broke eye contact and began to pretend everything was perfectly normal. They discussed the upcoming marriage and the possible meanings of ones "undoing." They discussed lives since their last contact, and each others most recent endeavors.

"I've been working with the FBI on some cases. It's actually quite interesting and educational."

"The FBI. Hmm. Quite risky for you wouldn't you think? Simply allowing them knowledge that you exist let alone getting connected to them or letting them know what your even remotely capable of. You're digging yourself a hole Hannibal. I do hope you can climb out of it when they find out." He chuckled. The pang of fear returned, but only for a moment as the older man instantly went on to his fairly recent experience of being stabbed.

There was no denying that Gold knew what he was eating, and yet he continued eating it, quite pointedly as a matter of fact. He was showing off. He was showing that he wasn't afraid, and that he didn't have a problem with eating or killing people or anything if the sorts. Mr. Gold was being treated for unstable aggression and brutal behavior of many degrees. He had confessed to killing before, but refused to go into detail during any sessions. Perhaps Mr. Golds mental health needed to be re-evaluated.

"Mr. Gold, do you consider yourself a psychopath?" Hannibal interrupted, completely serious.

"You're referring to someone who performs and displays violent actions while being completely aware of what they're doing yet remaining completely accepting of their crimes and the consequences? Yes of corse I do." He smiled that wolfish smile once again.

"Have you ever considered killing simply for the fun of it? Just for the natural thrill?"

"I've done more than consider it Doctor." He answered, still smiling. They finished the last of their beer and Gold dabbed his face with his napkin. They picked up the empty plates and together they made their way to the kitchen. Gold offered to help wash the dishes, but Hannibal insisted that everything was fine. Gold nodded respectively and Hannibal escorted him to the door. As they reached the front door, Gold turned and held out a business card.

"Remember Dearie, I AM a lawyer, and I've never lost a case. Ever. Just give me a call if you need someone to represent you when they find out about this whole-... Cannibal thing of yours." His face remained completely professional, as if he dealt with this kind of thing every day of the week.

"Thank you Mr. Gold. I hope I can assume you won't do too much talking?"

"I won't do any talking at all Dearie. As long as you uphold your side of the bargain that is."

"And what, may I ask, is that?"

"Just remember, I was never here. Not today, not ever. Not even once. You've never seen me in your life."

"That's right. I nearly forgot. You don't really exist do you?"

"Not in this world I don't..." Enjoy the rest of your night Hannibal. Save some of that accountant for your next guests won't you?" He chuckled, turning on his heal and limping into the darkness of outside, probably never to be seen again. Although, nothing was impossible. He examined the business card and almost laughed when he saw the name in the card.

Rumplestiltskin Gold

Lawyer, antiques dealer, land lord, loan shark

Specializes in procuring rare objects and making deals

All magic comes with a price

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