The Last Romanov (Under Editing)

Interrogations

Sasha wasn't going to let them beat him.

One of the prison guards had him standing up at attention at the moment, while he smoked a cigarette and watched. It had been going for about an hour at that point: his legs were starting to ache, but he wasn't allowed to move. If he moved, he got burned with the cigarette. Or kicked. Or punched. All of those great things. At that point, he had a lovely black eye, a few bruises on his arms and his stomach, and a few cigarette burns to prove it.

But, he wasn't about to give in. He didn't just have a stubborn bone: every damned bone in his body was a stubborn bone. Knowing him, they'd probably have to go ahead and kill him before he said a word. Whether he wanted to or not.

"Really, kiddo?" the soldier asked, letting out a puff of cigarette smoke. "You really aren't about to tell me anything? Out of all the people down here, you should know that you'd be saving yourself a hell of a lot of trouble if you just spoke up."

Sasha sighed. "Yeah; I know."

"You know, and you're still going to be an ass."

"Yep."

The soldier sighed, hitting his head gently on the closed door of the cell. "You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"

"Ain't we all a special kind of stupid?"

The soldier chuckled, letting out a little more cigarette smoke. "I guess that's kind of true."

There was some silence in the cell for a few seconds as the soldier continued to smoke. It had been awhile since he'd had a smoke, but at that moment, he was really, really craving one.

"You mind if I take a few puffs?"

The soldier gave him a look. "You think I'm going to let you smoke my cigarette? You really are crazy: I'm nearly out of cigarettes, and I sure as hell ain't going to share some with you. I don't even know you!"

"Come one: I thought we were friends."

"You're definitely kidding yourself if you think we're friends. I don't have any friends. And neither do you. So, you should probably stop kidding yourself, suck it up, and take your punishment like a man." The man seemed pretty serious about that, too: no smirk, no nothing.

Did he... did he not realize...

It took so, so much for Sasha to not crack up. "I don't... suppose you see the double entendre in that, do you?"

"Double entendre?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about. I take it that they leave you satisfied? You really seem to enjoy them."

Well, it seemed that they were going to use his weakness against him: dirty double entendres.

Sasha found himself snickering, despite himself. He knew that it wouldn't end well for him, but he couldn't help it.

"Are you laughing?" the soldier asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know what I'm supposed to do to you if you laugh or something like that."

Sasha immediately composed himself. "I was laughing? I didn't notice. I was just coughing, that's all."

He fake coughed into his hand. "I have a head cold, you see. Haven't been feeling all that great for a little while, actually."

"And is that why you pissed on Zelenko's boots?"

Sasha nodded. "Did I say it was a head cold? I meant bladder infection. Super painful: feels like I'm pissing needles whenever I... well, take a piss."