He had expected it all to remain the same, steady rhythm. Wake, cleanse himself, dress then head downstairs to make a marvelous breakfast for himself. He would read the daily newspaper upon the completion of his breakfast then see if TattleCrime had any interesting updates. From there he would head out to do his daily errands.

If it were a weekday, he would head off to his office and prepare for a day spent consoling clients. With a homemade, delectable lunch in between his late morning and afternoon clients. On the weekend he would simply return home for a lazy day of cleaning and baking. Perhaps some time spent at his lovely harpsicord.

His nights would continue to be filled with cooking and baking masterpieces. Followed be a solitary meal in the quiet of his dining room. A short sleep would lend him the energy he would need for a midnight stroll, should he decide to take one.

Fate however, ever the mischievous deity that she was, had decided that she had other plans for Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

*HANNIBAL AND WILL*

"Doctor Lecter, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI." Jack held out his hand to the chubby man exiting from the psychiatry office. His other hand held out his credentials for examination.

"I hate to be rude Agent Crawford. This is however, a private area reserved for my patients."

"Oh. Doctor Lecter." Jack shoved his FBI badge back into his jacket pocket. "May I come in?"

"You may wait in the wait in the waiting room." Hannibal turned to the chubby man. "I will see you next week Mr. Froideueaux."

Hannibal returned to his office, closing and locking it behind him. He settled in to his desk chair and took up his notebook on Franklyn Froideueaux. He took his time updating his notations on the man and when exactly one hour passed, he rose and placed the notebook amongst the others. He made then made his way to his office door and the unexpected guest beyond it.

"Agent Crawford, please do come in." Hannibal stood aside, allowing for the other man to enter.

"Are you expecting another patient, doctor?"

"Not for another hour, agent."

"Good, good." Jack Crawford wondered the office, looking at the various works of art and books, but not really taking in anything that he saw. "I read your paper about social exclusion. It was an interesting read."

Jack paused next to a small desk, topped with a lamp and various papers. He pulled back a light sheet of paper, exposing a drawing of a building. "Is this your drawing, doctor? It has many details. I can see how your drawings lead to an internship at Jhons Hopkins."

"Am I under investigation, agent?"

Jack laughed. "Oh no doctor. I know a young mentee of yours. Alana Bloom." Jack turned to face Hannibal for the first time since entering the office. "She suggested you as the person to help me with a problem of mine."

"Dr. Bloom is a very smart young woman; I cannot imagine how I may help you where she could not."

"It seems my problem would cause her a conflict of interest should she help me with it."

"Ah, I see. Tell me Agent Crawford, how may I be of service to you?"

"I need you to provide me with a psychological profile on one of my men."