Based off an original tumblr post by thebestpartofwakingup:

post/119026400068/can-you-imagine-how-awkward-clannibal-would-be

Please note: I do not own any of the characters. All references made are homage to Thomas Harris, the author of the series. I do not own the original prompt, either (see above). The only thing I own is these words arranged this way.

A peaceful morning, enhanced with the soft chirping of birds and light dew on the surrounding grass, went by completely unnoticed by Clarice. Her soulmate timer ticked down to less than twenty minutes when she pulled into the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Jack Crawford, Starling's "boss", had informed her the day before that a Frederick Chilton would oversee the visit at the asylum. Maybe it'd be him.

Stepping out of her car, she began a slow walk to the front door. The fair setting did nothing to calm her nerves. Evidently fate thought it wasn't enough for her to plead for a cannibal to complete a questionnaire and meet her soulmate on separate days. A small waiting room greeted her as she entered the hospital. Starling proceeded to reception and asked for Dr. Chilton.

15:33

Within two minutes, Chilton came and met her. His timer read 00:00, while Starling's was still ever-slowly running down. Alright… Maybe Mr. Right's an orderly or a nurse. He led her into his office. Her slight disappointment when Dr. Chilton walked into the room fifteen minutes too early turned to elation after she had spent another minute with the man, greasy hair and all.

13:01

Safety procedures were clearly unimportant to the hospital director as compared to making not-so-subtle advances toward the girl likely 20 years his junior. Starling was thoroughly disgusted at just about every comment he made. Her patience with the man wearing thin, she gave a shallow smile at attempted to hurry things. This was her appointment, after all. During the briefing, he glanced at her wrist and grinned.

"Well, maybe if you stay up here for a few more minutes, we could end up having quite a fun time."

Clarice was quick to shut that, whatever that was, down. "No, Dr. Chilton, I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."

"And you're one to judge, Miss Sterling? My timer has been at zero since the day I was born. Who said we can't bend the rules, just a little bit?

"Doctor, I'm here to speak with Dr. Lecter about this questionnaire and that's it. Please, sir, considering it's my responsibility, I'd really like to get to my job now, thank you." Nothing but a few grumbles and mutter comments followed, and Chilton led Starling down the halls.

7:56

"Do not reach through the bars, do not touch the bars. You pass him nothing but soft paper…" the demands circled Clarice as they continued down the hall. Politely, Starling asked Chilton to go back to his office once they reached the control room for the dungeon.

4:14

An orderly, Barney, met her and once again reiterated some of the rules. She eyed the room, her back turned to the metal door and hallway that led to the prisoners. Guys stood around the room, staring at her as she went to hang up her coat on a nearby rack. Barney was talking to her again. "You'll do fine," he said. She looked down at the timer.

1:29

Fuck. Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. If it's not one of these guys, then is it one of the prisoners? The orderly glanced down at the timer, gave her a solemn nod, as if he knew what she was thinking, but didn't say a word. He unlocked the huge barred door and motioned for her. God damn. What the fuck?

0:14

She passed the inmates on either side, trying hard not to draw attention to her wrist. Yet, she found herself looking at each of the prisoners in turn, just to see. Clarice heard some profanities shouted from one of the last cells, but was too lost in thought to think about it.

0:03

She moved passed the cell. Only one remained, on the right.

0:00

Dr. Lecter stood in front of her, poised and graceful. He looked down at his own wrist, and upon seeing that it had expired, and offered her a smug smile. Starling let out a shuddering breath softly. She heard him greet her. "Dr. Lecter, my name is Clarice Starling. May I speak with you?" What the fuck. Every inch of her body was set to go running back down the hall, to get as far away from him, as far away from this asylum, as fast as she possibly could. But the cannibal was known for his courtesy, right? If she remained cordial, maybe she could get the answers to the questionnaire and flee. What I'd do for this fucking job.

"May I see your identification, please?" He took a step towards her. It was all Starling could do not to take two steps back. Instead, she busied herself with taking her I.D. card out and flashing it to him. He beckoned her forward, made comments on her career stance, but then seemed bored. Lecter then approached the topic they both should find much more interesting.

"My, Agent Starling, it appears we're meant to be." Lecter let the last three words drag slowly. Although his face remained entirely impassive, she could see something between amusement and apprehension in his eyes. It was clear to her that she was only seeing what he wanted her to see.

"Yes, um, Doctor, I see that. I'd really appreciate it if we focused on what I came here for. You see, we've had a problem down in Behavior Science, and we were wondering if you would…"

The doctor, always the gentlemen, simply held up a hand at her request. "Agent Starling - may I call you Clarice? It seems most appropriate." A slight nod and he continued. "Do you think this soulmate idea will be a problem for your career? Jackie, down in the basements of Quantico, must really hate this. Does he know yet? Do you think he could figure it out?"

"I'm really not, sure, Doctor, although, if not, I'd like to think this is something we can keep between us?"

"Are you implying I'd sell ourrrr story to the tabloids, Clarice? No, no. I'm far more concerned for the personal well-being of our relationship." At this, Starling almost gagged. "You, being a freshly-minted youth from the epitome of justice, the F-B-I, a hick, at that, and I, an incarcerated killer almost double your age. I think I'll call it The Prisoner's Dilemma. You have heard of that one, haven't you, Agent Starling?" Again, a nod. "Then let's embrace our tragic romance. Tell whomever you wish of our tragedy - how about Miggs over there?" He gestured to his left. "Miggs certainly seemed interested in you, Clarice, as you walked down the hallway. Did you hear what he said, or were you too absorbed in the march to your final destination - to me?"

Starling thought back to the walk. She searched her memory; everything prior to standing in front of the doctor's cell was a blur. Suddenly, she uttered "'I can smell your cunt.'"

"I'm sorry, Claricccee, what was that? It's rather loud in here, wouldn't you agree?" Starling quickly became aware of all the shouting occurring around them.

"He said, 'I can smell your cunt.'" Louder, this time, much more confident. Clarice was trying desperately to find her voice again.

"I see. I myself cannot." Dr. Lecter inhaled, breathing deeply. "A pity, don't you think? Although your perfume is exquisite. L'Air du Temps?" And Starling couldn't speak again. Just a nod. Starling, what the hell? Get the fucking paperwork and get out of here.

"We have a sort-of evaluation here for you, if you'll permit it. You fill out the pink. That's all there is to it." Lecter raised his eyebrows, and shot a testing look. "Doctor, I know you're known to be too sophisticated for tests like this. I'm not asking you to answer it innocently, or in any particular way, but it's my job to ask you to fill it out. Either you will or you won't."

"Your job. Hmm. You are a student, and yet you take the utmost responsibility for the madman who fails to cooperate. How admirable. Send it through."

The remainder of her visit to the asylum continued in a similar manner. Damn, Clarice thought, he's creepy as hell, but just about the most polite man I've ever met. The thought that the Doctor was more appealing to her than any of the douchebags back at Quantico floated to her conscious mind, but she was quick to will it away. Dr. Lecter refused to answer the questions after viewing them and went on to insult the entire field of psychology and Starling herself. They moved on to Buffalo Bill, the most recent serial killer with an apparent fascination with human skin. Small pieces of information were traded throughout the appointment. No more words were said about the "relationship" between Lecter and Starling, as the Doctor had named it, but subtle hints were plentiful. A wink here, a smirk there, followed with a "my dear" more than what was necessary. Starling believed her attitude was what allowed for this; when she stood up to his teasing and appeared unfazed by his scare tactics, he would stop and present her with information. His coy smile made Clarice want to run down the hall every time he flashed her it. Finally, at the conclusion of their meeting, Dr. Lecter said his goodbye and returned to his cot. "Head back to school now, my Starling. Give Jack my regards, please." Clarice's sense of politeness and regards for the psychiatrist left her, and, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched away.

When she passed Miggs' cell, of course, as luck would have it, she found herself covered in his come. Dr. Lecter yelled for her back, and although every instinct of hers screamed against it, she returned to his cell.

A quick rant about courtesy, and she had a lead.

The agitated Doctor disappeared after just several seconds, and he became much cooler.

"Valentine's Day is coming up, you know; I've been thinking about it. I can make you very happy for our first Valentine's Day, Clarice." She'd been hit on by quite a few guys in here time, but, Jesus, he was relentless. He really enjoyed making her uncomfortable. Clarice was to seek out a the car of former patient of Dr. Lecter's, and she was willing to take the risks.

What she wasn't sure about, however, was how she was going to explain the whole soulmate concept to Mr. Crawford. Finally, after returning to her car, on the brink of tears, she decided she'd just include the information in her report and go along as if nothing had happened. She'd return to the doctor if necessary, but there would be no more discussion about it.

"Starling, take a seat." She pulled out the upholstered chair across from Crawford's desk and quickly sat, crossing her legs and gripping the armrests. Jack Crawford leaned forward in his chair and spoke, "The report you turned in was fine, Starling. You did good." Clarice sighed almost inaudibly. "However, this whole Lecter-mate thing's completely unreasonable. You didn't run with that, or taunt him, or anything like that to get an advantage?"

"No, sir. I refocused the conversation several times."

"You see, I'm worried about you. I said not for Lecter to get in your head and now he's your goddamned soulmate?"

"Sorry, sir, I couldn't control that. Dr. Lecter's imprisoned. If he wants to flirt with me, pretend we're a couple, by all means, I'll let him. I don't care. You know, I'd never…" She trailed off. "If I can appeal to him, if he likes me, and I think he does, he might be able to help us. It doesn't matter because he's incarcerated and, likely, insane, to be honest." Starling wasn't sure if that was a lie to Crawford or herself.

"Regardless, you shouldn't see him anymore. He's dangerous, like I said, and if he thinks you're taking advantage of him, he'll spin it and manipulate the life outta you. Follow up on the car thing and get away from Lecter. I'm sorry I put you in that situation."

"No apologies necessary, Mr. Crawford, but I really think I got to him. He talked to me, isn't that a start? Please, sir, this could really help us."

"Alright, but if I hear anymore of that love stuff, you're off, you hear?" His tone softened. "I really care about you, Starling, and Lecter, he'll only ever hurt you." Clarice nodded and was dismissed.

As Crawford watched her walk out of the room, he was wondering what the hell he was going to do with an FBI officer destined to be with a madman, a killer. For now, she was fine. If any more came of it… He chose not to think of it.

When Clarice made it home to her duplex, Ardelia was eager to find out what happened. She had seen her best friend's timer ticking down. Her own was still at a little over two years. Starling claimed to be exhausted and began to walk to her room, but Mapp was insistent.

"Don't play games with me, girl, tell me who it was?"

"Dee, I'm really tired, please. Let's talk about it another time."

"No, we'll talk now. Who was it? Not good-looking? Why are you so upset, damn it?" Clarice looked down at her shoes, then over at the cupboard of their shared kitchen. Ardelia stared straight at Clarice until she broke.

"It was Lecter." Mapp's jaw dropped a solid two inches and Clarice stifled a sob.

"Jesus, what the fuck? Lemme get you some whiskey. You're bunking with me, tonight. You can't take this shit alone." Clarice opened her mouth to speak, but Ardelia kept talking. "No, no. No need to explain now. Jack Daniels now, and talking later."

They spent the night watching old cartoons and drowning their troubles with liquor.

After Agent Starling had left the asylum, Barney went to Dr. Lecter. A pleasant smile and greeting were exchanged.

"She's your soulmate, Doc? Jeez." The doctor simply nodded, allowed a hint of sadness to show in his eyes, and smiled. "Bittersweet, I guess. A beautiful girl, but on the opposite side of the law and…" He stopped, figuring it rude to comment on Lecter's age. However, the Doctor clearly got the message.

"Truly tragic, but heartwarming, too. In good time, Barney." The orderly eyed Dr. Lecter suspiciously.

"Don't get started, now. Get some rest, Doctor. It'll help."

"Thank you, Barney." The prisoner returned to his cot.

While the security cameras set up in front of Dr. Lecter's cell were not equipped with audio equipment, a nearby recorder, set up by Dr. Chilton, was. As the doctor taunted the young agent on the tapes, Chilton frowned with disgust. She gets stuck with him, meanwhile I'm here, more than willing to take her out. Beautiful, really. He watched her ass from the security footage, admiring her. We'll see if Hannibal gets a chance when I'm around. Maybe her timer, was broken, like mine. Until Chilton could test that theory, a simple taunt for Lecter and maybe some gospel programming would do to put him in his place.