A/N: Answer to the April/May Challenge at Loving Lecter, in which the object was to write a short fic where each paragraph begins with a different letter of the alphabet, starting with 'A' and working your way to 'Z' to finish up.

I am only posting this for posterity sake.  If ever I find the itch to finish Stella, you lovely people will be the first to know.  In the meantime, all my Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfic can be found under the ff.net name Holly4.

The only reason I thought this might need a PG-13 rating was the usage of minor profanity.  Well, not that the profanity itself was minor, but it only occurred once…I think…

Lover's Quarrel

"Another excellent venue in your culinary skills, I must say."

"Buggeration!"

"Can you repeat that?"

"Do you have fun mocking me? Honestly. No, don't give me that look. I mean, really, do you get some kinda kick out of my pain?"

"Everyone must have a hobby, my dear."

"Fuck you."

"Goodness, what a temper. Was that a proposition? If so, we do have some time before our meeting tonight with Mr. Ziegler. Well, that is if we wish to be fashionably late and not directly punctual."

"Hardy har har, Hannibal."

"I was being perfectly serious."

"Jack was right about you. Times like this, I know Jack was right about you. You are undoubtedly the most insufferable man on the face of the planet."

"Kindly refrain from mentioning dear old Jack before we are due to appear in public. You know what that does to my temper."

"Lorne sounded really fantastic earlier, didn't he?"

"My dear, do not attempt to change the subject."

"Next Tuesday, his album will be out and I promised him before we left that we'd get a copy. It's gonna be great for the gig…though I don't think it'll go passed any of the local circuits. The title's a ridiculous pun. Songs for the Lovelorne. Cute, I know but you—"

"Oh, Clarice, you know how unbecoming it is when you ramble."

"Pardon me, sir, for being unbecoming."

"Quite."

"Right, that's it. You and me. Right now."

"Sex ala cart? Well, all right, but if we're late to Mr. Ziegler's, you're going to take the blame. Is that quite understood?"

"To hell with you, Hannibal Lecter!"

"Understand, it's far too late for that."

"Very funny."

"Well, I thought so. Tell me, do you expect the whelp to be present tonight? I fear I haven't spoken with Mr. Ziegler since he was so kind as to extend the invitation."

"Xander? That whelp? Well, I'd expect so, Hannibal. He is the campaign manager. Here, let me fix that tie. Honestly, the most educated man I know, and you can't straighten a tie. How he got that position is another story completely, and…don't you give me that look! I mean it, if he turns up missing; you're going to the doghouse. He might not be the most competent young man, but he's…nice. And his wife's expecting—"

"You honestly think I would make an attempt to hamper Ziegler's campaign? Really, Clarice. I'm shocked and appalled."

"Ziegler's campaign is the least of our worries, and you know it."

"Ah, the innocence of youth."

"Bite me."

"Clarice, you know better than to tempt me."

"Don't I? Now, come on. Out the door with you."

"Ever been told that you're particularly arousing when issuing orders?"

"Fairly certain I have. Ever been told you're a pain in ass?"

"Gracious, what a question. Every day. By you, I might add. Sometimes twice."

"….Hannibal?"

"I love you, too, Clarice."