William Afton x Officer!Reader (Completed)

Chapter Three: An Unplanned Date

"Did I make the right choice?" You murmured to yourself, holding the blueprints to your chest absentmindedly.

You approached the warden's office and knocked on the frame of the open door, drawing his attention.

His head snapped around annoyed like he might beat the pulp out of the person who dared disturb him, but when he saw you, he smiled brightly. "Officer y/n! How are you today? What might I help you with?" He set down the folder he was thumbing through to give you his undivided attention.

"I'm fine today, how about you?" You exchanged before entering, pausing as you remembered the blueprints you were still carrying to your chest and casually folded your hands behind your back to not draw attention to them and avoid having to explain why you were hugging them. "I'll get right to the point. I need to get permission to do something I normally wouldn't do with one of the prisoners."

His smile slowly falls and the sparkle in his eyes fades dim. "Please, don't tell me..." He leans toward you with a stern, solemn expression. "Is it Afton?" He says harshly under his breath, with an expression that was pleading for you to tell him otherwise and soothe his concern.

"Yes, it's him. He wishes for me to eat lunch with him, alone, and he says that's the only way he'll tell me the information that we need. He's stone walled all of your best interrogators so far, so if we want to get anything out of Afton, I might as well go along with what he asks for, so long as it stays innocent enough."

"....Officer y/n..." The warden says with the kind of tone a father would use with a beloved child. "That is extremely risky. I pay those men to keep you, without a chance of error, safe from this madman." His hands were shaking. "You know I want to give this prison to you one day...but I can't do that if he were to..." He turned away to compose himself and returned to his gruff professional tone. "I was honoured to have you transferred to my prison, because you are the best officer I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. If you feel this is best for our investigation, then I will..." He takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly. "Grant your request."

"Thank you, Warden. We need this information. I can protect myself, I promise." You assured him.

You stood up and took your leave, briskly walking back to Afton's cell.

"One lunch and don't expect this to be a regular occurrence, either." You prefaced, reminding him this was a professional transaction, not a date, and you expected him to uphold his part with substantial information in exchange for your efforts. "What do you want to eat?"

William is lying on his gurney, another request you had allowed him to have in exchange for revealing the location of his murder weapon: the Spring Bonnie suit. He was currently acting as if he were napping but the sound of your voice brings a slight suppressed smile to his lips.

The guards look at you, bewildered and visibly upset. They had anticipated a different answer from the Warden. They exchange nervous glances to one another before heading very slowly to the door like a funeral procession.

William sits up and gives you an alluring smile. "It's chivalrous to let the guest choose the menu. I'll have your favourite." He said with words rich as dark chocolate. "If this is to be an isolated occurrence, I'd better savour it."

"Very well. How do you feel about salad? I know it's common, but I like to eat it."

"My dear, nothing about you is common." He swung his legs over the side of the gurney and strode over to your direction, leaning on the bars before reciting,

"You graduated top of your college class, full honours, and have more recognition than the Warden himself." He said with a proud tone, full of admiration. "I would love to know how you compare to me someday in brilliance." He sounded earnest, pressing into the bars slightly, to be closer to you, before murmuring,

"That was a long way of saying: salad would be divine." He said airily. "Better than this sand and cardboard they serve as if it's food. May I request some wine to go with it?" He requested with a slight tilt of his head. "Only if you share it with me, of course." He added. "Drinking is a social activity after all."

You were taken aback, wondering how he knew that much about you, what else he knows and for what purpose he researched you. What's more, he would have had to do so before being imprisoned.

"What type of salad would you like?" You tried to remain steeled to not let him rattle you.

"Well, it's not often I get an opportunity to select my own food these days and since you've made it clear this might be my only chance," He mused and said without hesitation, "Florette Baby Leaf salad, beluga caviar, grated truffle, cornish crab and lobster and 30-year-old balsamic vinegar." He smiled with a mischievous grin.

After a pause to read your expression, he chuckled. "I'm teasing. I'm a simple man. A tossed (your favourite) salad will do. My mother used to make them for me after school when I still lived in England. It will remind me of home." He said without any hint of lying but that was your favourite salad. An internet search would explain the credentials but not what your food preferences were. Has he been stalking you?

You kept your curiosity to yourself for now and nodded. "So, two of those, and um.. I've never had wine before. What's a good wine?" You tried to mask your suspicions for the time being.

His eyes widen slightly with surprise. "Oh, haven't you?" He says softly. "A sweet white wine would do much better than a bitter or dry counterpart." He advises. You can't help but notice the ecstatic smile threatening to creep onto his mouth that's he's trying to restrain while he talks, clearly happy you that accepted his idea. "Sweet does suit you." He adds with a long look to you, before turning back and relaxing on his gurney once more until you return.

As he lays on his back, you notice him cough painfully.

The sight made you frown slightly with pity. You knew it was unprofessional, and that he was a horrible human being, but your empathy was overpowering your training. The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "Are you feeling alright?"

His jaw tenses and you see his muscles go rigid, like a child being caught in the act of something they'd attempted behind an authority's back. He clearly hadn't intended for you to see that.

"You are brilliant, so I suppose it couldn't have been helped that you would perceive this sooner or later..." He said dourly, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

"I am very much not all right, y/n. In fact, I am rapidly dying. I have been since I was admitted here. I am in a startling amount of pain and let's just say your visits are the only thing that distracts me from it." He confessed.

He's being honest; all of your training tells you so, but he seems so reluctant to tell you any details. Almost as if he would avoid the question all together with anyone else, but he felt moved to tell just you.

You frowned sympathetically. "You don't have to tell me, but now I won't stop wondering about it. I'll be back with lunch soon."

He smirks wryly, studying the ceiling as if he's focusing on something very interesting that you cannot see. "Not the best lunch topic, but I will explain later, if that's what you desire." He mutters quietly, almost to where you might have missed hearing it, as if it was more to himself. He folds his hands over his waist and closes his eyes, still smiling faintly. "I look forward to our little tryst, my dear." He mutters, pretending to nap once more.