The Interrogation: Part II

Rating PG – so far. Quite likely to descend to M or AO at a later stage.

What happens when Donnelly finds one of his potential Man in the Suit suspects disturbingly attractive?

Donnelly strode down the empty hallway towards Solitary. There’d been another altercation between prisoners and rather than risk one of his potential suspects getting murdered in a meaningless jail yard brawl he had sent them each into solitary confinement. He’d managed to snatch a bare few hour’s nap, in between slowly shifting mountains of paperwork the previous few days exercise had generated.  Warren’s ID had finally cleared, with Donnelly making sure every I was ticked and T crossed, despite some interesting and possibly dodgy tax history that would be forwarded to the IRS, the man appeared as boring as he was normal. Now he was on the way to release one innocent man, so he could get back to the important job of narrowing down which of the last two where his real target. Considering the rude treatment the man had endured at the hands of the prison inmates, Donnelly considered it the least he could do, was the inform Warren himself, that he was soon to be freed.

Not, whispered that quite echo inside, because he wanted to get close to the vulnerable and bruised figure that had so stirred long dormant areas of him hours earlier.

The soft click of his shoes, and those of the guard beside him, as he strode towards to cell was the only noise in this seemingly empty wing of the prison. Behind each door was a prisoner, and behind one of these three in particular was a especially dangerous and deadly man. However behind the immediate door in front of him, was a hurt and wounded individual, caught up in something far larger than he could have ever imagined. Something to keep in mind every time the urge rose to fall unheeded into those devastatingly deep eyes, Donnelly sternly reminded himself. With barely a nod to him, the guard stepped forward and unlocked the cell to Warren’s door and after commanding Warren to stand to the back of the cell, swung it open.

“Just call when you’re ready sir.” The guard advised him, and Donnelly nodded his understanding, before stepping into the cell. The door closed quietly behind him, listening to the soft clunk of the lock, then the sounds of the guards footfalls fading off into the distance. Donnelly turned his attention from behind him back in to the dimly lit cell before him. Standing nervously before him, against the wall was his target. Not a prisoner damn it, an innocent man, Damn his brain, not a target.

Donnelly cursed his over active brain again and nodded reassuringly to the nervous man in front of him. The last few hours since their talk had only reinforced their original data on Mr Warren. That he was an Asset Manager, caught doing something stupid, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even Carter’s in depth and brilliantly played interrogation had shaken nothing loose, revealing only an innocent, frightened man. The reason for his being down there in the first place still felt clunky. But unfortunately it wasn’t outside of the realms of either possibility or probability, and with every passing second Warren had looked less and less likely to be their man, while the 3 others odd’s simply increased. Until now with final evidence in hand that cleared him, and Donnelly could remove this serious distraction from his life and work here.

Damn the man was tall, Donnelly noted. Even standing there cowed, slumped over and obviously favouring one side, where Donnelly suspected he might have cracked ribs, he was still an impressive figure. A figure the neon bright institutional orange jumpsuit couldn’t completely hide. Broad shoulders, that distracting salt and pepper hair, the line of muscle that ran from the corner of his jaw, down his neck, to disappear behind the torn bloodied white under shirt in a way that once again had Donnelly’s pulse speeding up. He realised his palms where damp and resisted the urge to wipe them on his pants legs, instead he gestured towards the bed, and leant back against the door jam. Once again finding himself struggling to maintain his professional demeanour in this quite man’s presence. With a slight wince Warren gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in front of him, elbows on his knees, as he stared dejectedly at the ground. A position that temporarily bereft Donnelly of breath as it afford a momentary view of sheer smooth neck muscle, marred only by several pale streaks of blood and a deepening bruise.

“Well Mr Warren, I apologise for your detainment, but considering the circumstances and the danger the man we are chasing represent, we simply couldn’t let you go until we had obtained enough proof that you where not him.” Donnelly managed after a moment.

“Yes, I understand Agent. Thank you.” The man’s deep voice, with its slight but undefinable drawl seemed to disappear into the corners of the room, and Donnelly found himself leaning forward slightly, straining to hear. Warren paused, and seemed to hesitate for a moment, then looked up and froze, and Donnelly realised he had stepped forward and was now only feet away from the man. Wide deep eyes stared into his, and Donnelly started from the sudden intensity of the emotion that flashed behind them, one he couldn’t identify, but none the less sent something deep inside of him twisting in recognition.

Donnelly stepped back and forced himself to breathe. He shook his head, forgetting his hard won professionalism in order to maintain control. It had to be fatigue; he’d never reacted like this before to another man, at least not since he’d grown out of those awkwardly annoying teenage phases. Women yes, there were always plenty of women who could turn his head and absolutely paralyse him with a look of delightfully wicked understanding. But not men, not in a long, long time anyway. He shook his head, breaking his eye contact and trying to force down his libido.

Warren suddenly surged to his feet, and Donnelly was abruptly forced back, pressed against the door, and he tried to understand what had suddenly changed a small isolated part of his brain noted something odd. Warren had come to his feet like a panther, one smooth intensely controlled motion, no hint of pain or hesitation cause by cracked ribs. Then Donnelly met the man’s eyes, and blinked in surprise. The meek and mild manager was gone, instead he looked upon something profoundly different and far, far, more dangerous. He opened his mouth and then stopped as one dry warm hand suddenly clamped over his mouth.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and suddenly all Donnelly could smell was Warren, Sweat, the copper hint of blood and a not unpleasant scent that had to be all the other man. When his eyes could focus again Warren had him pinned against the door, one arm against his chest, the other over his mouth, and a voice that was chillingly coldly practical whispering in his ear.

“Listening to me very closely Agent Donnelly, I suspect I’m only going to be able to say this once. Your life is in danger and whether you like it or not, I’m going to do my best to keep you alive.”

“You’re him; you’re the man in the Suit.” Donnelly blurted out, gasping against the pressure on his chest, and desperate to ignore another lower pressure.

“Go to the head of the class Agent. Now before you call the nice prison guard over, think about this. You where about to let me go, and I could have walked out those gates and you would have never been the wiser. But unfortunately, all my intelligence points to a danger in here. And as long as you think one of those other men is me, I can’t protect you while I’m outside and you’re in here.”

Donnelly blinked rapidly, trying to process the deluge of information while two warring parts of his brain fought for control. One side wanted to slam Warren back against the wall, call the guard down and have him chained to a table and interrogated thoroughly on his past exploits. The other part wanted to slam him against a wall, and then rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless.

Warren abruptly let him go and stepped back, smoothly resuming his position against the far wall he had occupied when Donnelly first entered the cell. Now however his demeanour was completely different. Head up, eyes focused and arms, no longer huddled against his body, but loose and relaxed by his side. His whole posture reeked of a relaxed combat stance, balanced and ready to explode into action at a moment’s notice. Donnelly suddenly realised the inherent stupidity of letting himself be isolated in a cell alone with a prisoner, even one believed to be innocent.

However Warren made no further moves. He stayed silent, eyes intent on Donnelly’s face and never wavering in their silent regard. Donnelly’s higher brain functions finally kicked into gear, and he realised Warren was waiting for his next move, to decide whether or not to turn him in as the Man in the Suit.

“I” it was now Donnelly’s turn to search for words. The gaze of the man across from him, bored into him. Demanding a decision his brain wasn’t capable of yet making, while two opposing instincts warred within him. The lawman screamed at him to step out now and call the guard, while another far older part of him entertained far more carnal ideas.

Abruptly Donnelly straighten up, one hand rapping at the door behind him with several solid assured thumps. Without turning he pitched his voice back through the door behind him.

“Guard!”

The man standing in the shadows on the wall opposite him could have been carved from stone, for all the emotion and movement he displayed as the guard eventually came and escorted Donnelly from the cell. However Donnelly could feel weight of his steel gaze on his back all the way down the long, long hallway.