[The smile quirked on his face reveals only his eager anticipation of such an endeavor. While still possessive of his patients, Chilton considers Hannibal a respectful enough man who can clearly identify boundaries -- unlike those scrappy PhD seekers whom Chilton so often despised. But regulation demanded that he bend over a little, when it came to the informational use of the criminally insane.]

Since, I assume, you'll be coming without FBI connotation, the state insists on a week's notice for your clearance. For proper analysis of prisoners, I mean, not just a brief visit. [And his smirk grows more clandestine, as he leans in a bit closer. A bit more intimately.] But if your curiosity suddenly captivates you, I can expedite all the proper paperwork to a couple of days, at most. Waiting doesn't suit the uncommon man, does it?

[The evidence of Chilton's narcissism flaring up again. The enemy of lines, of standing like some herded body. He himself never enjoyed waiting, patience was always a virtue lost upon him. Hence his inclination to fiddle, to manipulate, to force the outcome his wanted. While he would learn from the Abel Gideon trauma (he would learn better technique, he would learn harder focus), he wouldn't conceive simply redirecting his energy into something more productive.

That's like admitting something is wrong.]

There is, of course, one patient who you know already.

[Referring back to Hannibal's acquaintance with the criminally insane as of late. He was careful not to say Will Graham's name.]

I hope that won't curdled your appetite. We could always do lunch.