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Interrogation Makes the Best Foreplay

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“Okay, who the hell ate all the good donuts?” Tony demanded as he flung open the door, coffee mug in hand. “There are only gross jelly ones left!”

Steve turned away from the interrogation window to raise an eyebrow at Tony. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony waved his hand carelessly at the other man. “Put it in my review.” He went to stand beside his partner, looking through the glass at the disheveled-looking young man staring morosely at the table. “What’ve we got?” he asked as he untangled the scarf from around his neck and shrugged out of his coat, shifting his mug from one hand to the other.

“Guys downstairs just brought him in. They think he knows something about the Turner homicide.” Steve said briskly.

“Really?” Tony swiveled his head, catching Steve’s nod. “Interesting,” Tony said, dragging out the word. “So same as usual?”

“If it ain’t broke it, don’t fix it,” Steve replied casually. 

“Okay,” Tony grinned. He smacked Steve’s ass. “Go get ‘em Cap.”

Steve squawked, shooting a glare at Tony. Tony just smirked back.

Steve pushed on his rolled-up sleeves and spun on his heel. He burst into the interrogation room, throwing the door open so hard it banged off the wall. The suspect jumped, nearly toppling his chair.

He strode over to the table and kicked over the chair that was sitting across from the suspect, who was now gaping at him. Steve slapped his hands on the metal table.

“Listen here, you swine,” he said, leaning down so their faces were on eye-level. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me everything you know.”

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the young man stuttered.

“You really want to go down that route?” Steve asked, leaning forward with a frown.

“I want,” he said, gulping. “I want a lawyer.”

Steve straightened abruptly, his jaw tight. He shoved the flimsy table to one side and strode forward. “You know,” he said as he clenched one hand in the suspect’s shirt, pulling him up out of the chair. “I’ve just about had enough of little pieces of shit like you.” He tugged his gun out of its holster with his free hand. “Thinking they can do whatever the hell they want and get away scot-free because of our corrupt judicial system.” The man blanched, his wide eyes following the gun Steve was now gesturing wildly with. “Well, it goes both ways buddy-boy. Now,” he said, as he aimed the gun at the suspect’s right foot, “tell me. Which is your favorite toe?”

At that moment Tony pushed into the room and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Rogers, that’s enough.”

For a second Steve didn’t react. Then, with an angry huff, he dropped the trembling man back into his seat and stepped smoothly back.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Tony told Steve. Steve stormed out of the room without a reply. Tony dragged the table back into place and set the box he’d brought in on top of it. “Donut?” He asked the quivering suspect, gesturing at the white container.

The suspect jerkily shook his head.

Tony sighed. “I’m sorry about Rogers,” he said, picking up the knocked-over chair and planting himself in it. “Between you and me, he’s not so stable.” Tony rested his hands on the table, interlocking his fingers. “Listen kid,” Tony started. Then he frowned at the box next to his hands. “You sure you don’t want a donut? They’re jelly, that’s the best kind.” At the suspect’s rejection, Tony shrugged. “Your loss. Now what was I saying? Oh, yes.

“Listen. I know you’re not a bad guy. You just got mixed up in some stuff you shouldn’t have right? Didn’t really think you’d end up in here, with a huge blond dude threatening to shoot off your toes, did you?” Tony didn’t wait for a response. “Nope, you probably didn’t think ahead at all. Just thought, oh here’s a way to make some easy money, and suddenly people are dying and you have no idea what to do. Don’t worry, I’ve been there.” He paused. “Well not there exactly. But I’ve been so distracted by the payoff that I didn’t really think about the consequences.” He leaned back, stretching his legs out and moving his joined hands to rest behind his neck. “So I want to help you out. But I can only help you if you help me. Otherwise, the big guy’s gonna wanna come back in here and then things are gonna get ugly.” Tony brought his hands down, resting them on his knees. “So what do you say? You think you can answer a couple of questions? Clear up a few things for us?”

The young man swallowed hard and darted a nervous glance at the door. He scratched at the table for a minute, his head bowed, before finally looking up at Tony. “I guess,” he mumbled. 

Forty minutes later, Steve stood in the hall, watching the suspect being taken away into temporary custody while Tony lounged against the wall next to him. 

“Which is your favorite toe? Really?”

“Hey, it worked,” Steve shrugged, turning to face his partner.

Tony snorted. “Only because that kid was fresher than fruit plucked from a tree.” He pushed off the wall, closing the gap between them. “I do have to say,” he murmured, “that whole move with the table?” Tony tilted his head up at Steve. “Kind of hot.” He tiptoed his fingers up the bigger man’s chest. “Maybe I should piss you off once in awhile.”

Steve wrapped Tony’s climbing fingers in one large hand. “Oh believe me, you piss me off plenty.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, swaying forward. “Well then, maybe you should put me in my place.” He grinned lasciviously. “Show me what a bad cop you really are.”

Steve’s eyes darkened. “You know,” he said, voice husky, “I think there’s a pretty big storage closet right down the hall.”

Tony’s grin widened. “Well, what are we waiting for?”