Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Capital Offense

November 10th, 2038
AM 09:20:13

"Keep peace with the lords of the jungle, the tiger, the panther, the bear;
And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the boar in his lair."

---

Questions.

Sentences worded as to elicit information.

After you'd silenced your phone, ignoring the text alerts from your bank warning of your accounts being frozen, your list of questions began to shorten.

"Don't say anything until your lawyer gets here." Gavin had warned.

You'd repeated time and time again that you didn't have one. That the one lawyer you usually called on these days worked primarily for your ex-husband.

He hadn't asked questions. Gavin rarely did. He just kept reminding you to keep your mouth shut, because he'd "called in a favor."

Still, you wanted to know.

What exactly did Perkins have on you that allowed this to happen?

A question that would shortly be answered through your admission of guilt...maybe.

Or maybe this was a bluff, and he was pulling FBI strings.

Once Chris had stripped you of any potential weapons, he'd been excused. It was just you, Allen, Gavin, and Connor, now...

Connor, who'd been told this was all his fault. That didn't make sense to you, either.

There was only one man who could answer any questions you had...

It just so happened that he had questions for you.

You swallowed hard as you sat down in the chair; electrifying you as if you'd already been put in the hot seat for execution.

The electronic click broke the silence, the keypad turning green. His footsteps bounded across the cement, a subtle clearing of his throat putting you on edge.

He entered like a specter breaching the boundaries between reality and something concocted from one of your worst nightmares. An apparition of a dangerous occurrence.

The very walls seemed to shift away from him, the deadly phantom warping time and space to blaze a trail right to you.

You tried to look him in the eyes as he pulled the chair out on the opposite side of the table – the one Connor had sat in before. You understood how Ortiz's android felt on a whole different level, now. How he could so easily crumble at being pressured into a confession.

You'd hate to be on the receiving end of Connor's interrogation tactics, and wondered how they differed from Perkins'. You hoped a lot.

The benefit was that you didn't have a Thirium pump regulator to rip out.

Just a hyperactive heart that didn't know how to stop pounding.

"Please state your name for the recording."

Perkins mumbled nonchalantly, clicking a pen in his hand as he opened a folder and wrote down a note after checking a digital watch.

You'd originally thought him to be more like yourself – having a wind-up, being as independent of technology as one could be...So you tried to find other small details that could help you figure out the man trying to blast your front to pieces like a nuclear bomb on enemy soil.

You stated your name.

"Very good." He dropped the pen and let it roll across the vanilla-colored pages, the sudden thud making you jump, "Do you have any idea why you're in here with me, today?"