We honestly wish there was some way we could dress up NBC rock star Ben Silverman's appearance on Charlie Rose last night as something more than two talking heads—albeit enviably bone-structured heads—covering the nuts and bolts of programming strategy in a 21st century, multi-platform TV jungle. Unfortunately, there isn't. So we're instead going to do the next best thing: Write some Ben on Charlie fanfic. It's after the jump!When Ben Met Charlie Chapter One: First Impressions Charlie sat in his dressing room, staring into his mirror with a paper-towel bib tucked into his shirt collar, as Joy the makeup girl dabbed concealer beneath his eyes. "No point, Joy," he said. "Couldn't hide those puffy things with cement and a trowel." "Oh Charlie," she laughed. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're as handsome as ever." Why was he so self-conscious? He was a broadcast icon. He had interviewed heads of state, captains of industry, sports heroes and movie stars. Yet none of them disarmed him the way today's guest did—a young, handsome and charismatic network TV president whose swift rise to power he had admired from afar. A knock at the door shook Charlie back into the moment. "Come in," he said. The first thing he saw were the brows—strong and angular, and peaked towards the ends. Then he wandered slightly downward, to the nose. It was a powerful nose—a hit-sniffing nose if he had ever seen one. For a split second, he migrated up to the eyes—mesmerizing!—but quickly landed on his visitor's full, cranberry lips. They opened to speak. "Charlie—" "Ben!" Charlie said leaping up, pulling his bib out of his shirt as he threw out a hand. Ben took it in his. It felt strong, Charlie thought, and large. New, yet familiar. It was comforting. Suddenly feeling extraneous, Joy used the moment to slink out of the room. "I just wanted to say hello before the interview." "Of course, of course—please, come in. Have a—" he looked around nervously for a chair, and spotted one leaning against a shelf filled with hardcover books, most only barely thumbed through. "Have a seat! Are you a scotch man?" "Tequila, usually, but scotch will do in a pinch," Ben replied, smiling. A knock at the door alerted both men they were needed on set. Next: Chapter 2: A Game of Wits And Footsie