better than you | reagan ridley x fem reader

1

Reagan's heavy eyes lifted from the even heavier stack of paperwork in her hands. a loud thump rung through the small room as she dropped it onto the cheap plastic table before her, overworked hands instead reaching for a rather sparse file resting on top. she flicked through it curiously for a moment, eyes flickering upwards to observe the scene before her every few seconds. "fill me in."

"you're readin' the file, you know as much as me. been stewin' in there about an hour, hasn't said a fucking word. she's like a fuckin' brick wall." the man leaned forward toward the glass, eyes focused solely on the lone individual on the other side.

Reagan's head turned to face the man, incredulous expression on her face. "what d'you expect me to do about it?"

"get some information outta her, get her to talk, torture her, i dunno. do somethin', man; you're the boss." he shrugged simply and leaned back against one of the bare walls of the confined room.

Reagan scowled, eyes flickering back to the window. despite every minute cell in her body willing her to avoid any unnecessary human interaction, her curiosity couldn't help but spike; the woman had piqued her interest. "fine. since you're too much of a little fuckin' bitch."

she pushed past her useless colleague and into the short hallway outside where a few many others stood, necks craned in interest of the current situation, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Reagan's eyes couldn't help but automatically roll. "nosy fuckers."

she elbowed past the few bodies in her way, and once at the metal door, bent down to stare into the small electronic pad next to it. a short retina scan later and the door unlocked with a satisfying click, which she pushed open and closed firmly behind her, away from the prying eyes of the Cognito.Inc workers.

the room was spotless, metal, white; easy to clean. a lot like most other rooms in the massive building, though perhaps not as worn- it was only used in 'special occasions'. such as this, for example. Reagan dared not spare a glance towards the large built-in mirror on the wall, in fear of her colleagues stupid backchat once she'd be done- "scared shitless, were ya?" 
being boss truly meant fuckall around here.

her hand wrapped around the top of the plastic chair on the other side of the table and quickly pulled it out. a harsh scraping followed in its course, woman on the other side of the table simply raising an indifferent eyebrow. Reagan sat opposite with an exhausted sigh, glad to finally have some rest off her legs. she slapped the file down onto the table, fingers moving to rub her aching temples.

"so. you're the so called 'Ghost', eh?"

the woman opposite stared boredly in response, only tell being a small amused huff of air from her nose. Reagan's eyebrow raised towards the woman, gaze moving down her body to take in her unusual appearance; black tank top, black jeans, black shoes and black hat tucked into her pocket, all to match the black gun, badge and phone they'd confiscated from her. Reagan flicked the file open once again, eyes scanning the first page.

"Y/n?" her eyes flickered upwards for any sign of recognition, or perhaps surprise in the woman's face but... no. blank and uninterested. nonetheless, Reagan continued. "26 years old, living in lower-town..." her eyes met with the woman, now known as Y/n. "hard worker i see as well. very hard worker in fact... you never seem to stop, do you?"

the woman continued her silent game, amused smirk twitching the corners of her mouth. Reagan's eyebrow twitched. "thought you'd have more to say after all this cat and mouse chasing."

the silence continued. Reagan let her hand drop onto the file; onto the blurrily photographed face of the woman before her. to say patience was not her forte would be the understatement of the year. "don't you realise-"