The first time Feitan met Janice was when (y/n) had dragged him inside her office to get measurements on his uniform.
He needed a change of look, something that didn't make him look a homeless lunatic running around and following another idiot who couldn't seem to get her thoughts straight. Janice was a touchy woman, she knew what she was doing when her fingers traveled across his chest, reminding him not to move too much because then the measurements would be wrong. She smelled like how a bakery would smell like in the crispy cold morning. It was a nice smell, it reminded him of home- when he used to have a home.
"Well Mr. Portor I'll be asking the question that every lady officer has been wanting to ask," she began with a smirk, handing him a tie that he would have to get used to wearing.
"And that is?"
"Are you single." (Y/n) said as she walked past them but not as a question and more of a statement. She already knew what Janice was going to ask, it was something that she had been begging to know about ever since she saw his mugshot. "Is what she was going to ask."
He glanced at her and then back at Janice, taking a step back. "I am but I'm already interested in someone." He said before following (y/n).
"Wait? Really?!" She sighed, feeling all hope disappear from her body.
He stared at her reflection in the mirror in front of him, watching her every movement when she trimmed his black hair. He told her not too short or not too long in which she surprisingly understood. She would occasionally meet eyes with his and out of sheer embarrassment he would quickly look down at his fingers, trying to avoid the thought on the back of his head of how her breasts brushed against his back every time she had to move to reach a strand that was bugging her.
"I think an undercut would look nice on him." Janice recommended as she ironed his uniform and then carelessly tossing it onto the desk nearby. She plopped down on the couch, opening another bag of chips she had managed to snatch from the cafeteria.
"Undercuts aren't allowed, you know the rules."
"Just a suggestion." She muttered, getting back up from her seat and walking over to the two. She leaned down to look over at Feitan, "About what you said earlier, does that mean you're married?"
"I'm not."
"Then who's the lucky lady?"
"I was kidding."
Janice frowned disappointedly, she shrugged the thought off walking out of the room once she realized that she had finished her bag of chips, leaving the two alone in her office.
"Is she your sister?" He broke the silence.
"Friend but you can call it that too."
He only nodded, going silent once again as he patiently waited for her to be done except she suddenly stopped and gave him a suspicious look.
"Why? Are you interested in her?"
"Of course not. Why would you even say that?"
"Just making sure. She's single." She cooed, giving him an actual smile this time.
"I don't care."
"Well, she could be your type."
"She's not my type."
"What's your type then? You never know, she might be the lucky gal to make your life less miserable than it is."
He only rolled his eyes, ignoring her question.
"What's your ideal woman?"
"You." He wanted to say just because he was curious of how she would react until he remembered that she was with someone. The idiot who was cutting his hair was in a relationship and it looked serious.
"Your boyfriend...how old is he?" He asked, switching the conversation towards her.
"Twenty nine this year." She sighed, remembering that she had to get him a happy birthday gift or otherwise he would overreact and think that she forgot all about him.
"So you're...twenty eight?"
"Twenty six. You?"
"Twenty seven."
"Oh. You're pretty young." She scoffed, grabbing his face and making him turn to the side. When she seemed satisfied she tossed the scissors across the desk and grabbed the broom to quickly sweep the floor. "I recommend bringing a few hairpins to keep the strands out of your eyes. If the chief sees you he'll force you to shave it all off, knowing how he is towards you he won't let you off easy."
"Fine." Was all he said as he jumped onto the couch, sighing loudly as he got comfortable. "When are you taking me back to my cell? I'm ready to sleep."
"I can't just take you back to your cell whenever you like. Besides, you won't be sleeping in there for a while. Put this on." She tossed him the uniform, turning her back towards him so she wouldn't see him get undressed. "And fast, we don't have a lot of time."
"You're in a rush." He opened his eyes, getting whatever energy he had left to get up from the couch and get dressed. As he turned his back to face towards hers he pulled his shirt over his head. She stared at her wall, hearing the sound of clothes getting pulled off. Her eyes travel onto every decor she had, trying to keep herself busy until her eyes got caught onto the small mirror she had on her desk. The mirror pointing directly towards him, she could see his bare back on the reflection, along with a few tattoos he had. She tore her eyes off the mirror, mentally slapping herself to get her head out of the gutter.
"Stop it."
"So why are you in a rush?" He asked again, buttoning his blouse as he turned back to face her.
She turned around only to see him still buttoning his blouse up, half his chest being exposed. She frowned, turning back around quickly. "More tattoos? How many does he have?" She thought, digging through her purse just to keep herself busy. "I have to get home to feed my dogs."
"Dogs? You don't look like a dog person." He said as he walked over to her, struggling to tie his tie. She swatted his hands away, quickly tying his tie and making sure she tied it tightly around his neck just to bug him. "Does this mean you're taking me back to my cell?"
"Chiefs orders to keep you under my watch so luckily for you you'll be staying at my house. You can sleep in the guest room." She grabbed his arm, fixing his sleeves and then rolling them up, hoping he wouldn't be like those idiots who always get their sleeves dirty. She grabbed his hand, just to pull the sleeve up when she noticed how cold and rough his hands were. They were the hands of a hard worker...or a killer.
"Oh." Was all he said, staring down at her and finally noticing the cut he managed to make on her face a few weeks ago. The cut was barely healing and the bruises were slowly disappearing. She had scars that would surely never disappear, engraving into her skin and marking a new story to tell to whoever asked in the future. He didn't regret it because deep down he knew he had to prepare her for anything, that included getting tortured for hours until whoever captured her got tired but maybe he did go a little overboard. He had to remember that (y/n) was still after all, just a useless human that was much weaker than he was.
"Does it still hurt?" He blurted out, not even thinking of what he said, his hands surprisingly moved on their own, cupping her face where he had hit her with the gun.
She froze, her hands still on his arm where she had stopped rolling his sleeves up. Her mouth went dry, wondering if she had heard him correctly.
"Well, does this still hurt?" She asked, poking him hard in the arm where she had shot him. He winced, letting go of her face and taking a cautious step back.
"Of course it does. You shot me."
"And you hit, kicked and punched me. You said it yourself, we're both even now."
"You deserved it."
"Did I really?" She asked, turning back to face him. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him leaning against her desk, her purse in his hands as he pulled out the box of cigarettes that belonged to her boyfriend. He'd be angry if he found out that someone else took his only pack but she was sure Feitan could easily shut him up with one single slap across the face.
Janice was no longer with them, they were alone which was dangerous for the both of them. Sure they had set a few rules but that didn't mean they had to stop threatening each other. This was the most entertaining game Feitan had ever played and he wasn't going to stop just yet. Not until he manages to break the mask of pride and ego she always wore just because she was apparently "the best detective in New York."
"Yeah, you did deserve it." He said as he flicked the lighter, keeping his eyes on the fire. She watched him cautiously, preparing for anything he would throw at her. He could easily drop the lighter, burning everything down to ashes and make his escape but that was just her mind going crazy. Instead he held a cigarette over the flame, lighting it up before putting in his mouth. He tossed the lighter to her which she almost failed to catch.
"I thought we were both even now. What else do you want?"
"Even? We're not even until I get my freedom and you...what was it you wanted again?" He teased, pressing her buttons as he tried to get her to explode. He walked over to her, leaning down close to her face but she didn't budge. "Oh, right." He stopped to inhale, pulling the cigarette out and blowing the smoke directly in her face. She clenched her fists, cold eyes staring back at him. "Find a child that's been missing for almost seven years. A child that's been kidnapped by a man who hasn't been caught for doing worse things than just kidnapping a kid."
"If you're trying to irritate me it's not going to work. You seem to forget that I am a woman who has to deal with men like you everyday since I was in middle school." She acknowledged, pressing both of her hands against his chest. He froze for a second, not expecting her touch to be so warm. Her perfume intoxicating him, almost putting him in a trance when he realized how close she was to him. "I read your file, you used to be a high school teacher right? At first I thought that "this has to be kind and gentle, patient man since he works around children" but now I'm starting to realize that you're the kind everyone hated. A sad, lonely man who thinks that he's better than others by giving opinions that no asked or cares." She added, slamming both hands against his chest and shoving him in her black comfortable seat.
He was taken aback, never expecting what he started to lead up to this moment. She snatched the cigarette out of his hand, putting one end into her mouth as she inhaled. Something that was supposed to relieve stress and relax the tensed body was doing the opposite to him when he randomly had a girl on his lap, blocking his only way to escape. He hadn't expected her to grab his face, press her lips against his. Her tongue sneaking into his hot mouth. He hesitated, feeling himself get hotter now that she was a lot closer to him. As she pulled away a string of smoke escaped from both of their lips. It took him a moment to realize that (y/n) was the type of student he absolutely hated when he worked in a school.
The type that was constantly pressing a teachers button just to watch them lose their composure and explode in front of the whole class. The type that was constantly interrupting the class just to stop him from teaching, the type that always caused him to start bad rumors of him being an annoying teacher for kicking them out of class and for always being so stuck up.
His eyes stared at her soft lips, as much as he hated to admit to himself he wanted to kiss her again. Cup her face and slam his lips against hers as he pushed her against the desk, hot and short breaths as their bodies press against each other. The door was unlocked so it would make things riskier for them to get caught. Anyone could walk in and see them but that's not what (y/n) wanted to do.
He was snapped back to reality when she got off his lap and tossed the cigarette towards him. He caught it easily, holding it in his mouth as he tried to shake the thoughts out of his head.
"You should try and do that trick, I promise girls don't find it attractive if you blow the smoke directly in their face. Probably another reason why you're single." She gave him gentle smile. "Get your things or I'm leaving you here." She added, grabbing her purse and rushing out.
"Right." Was all he said.