I Never Told You What I Do For A Living [Frerard]

Chapter 2- Yeah, It's Kinda Kinky

Gerard's face lmao

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Frank paced the carpet of the cheap hotel, glancing over at the killer on his bed every few seconds. He had panicked and taken Gerard here to contain him, somewhat surprised that he had captured him within three hours of beginning his mission.

The original plan had been to follow him closely, detect his agents and methods at the speech, figure out what he was going to do, and then cut him off. It was supposed to be difficult, despite what he had assured Lindsey. He had definitely expected some more resistance from the assassin, but Gerard was sticking with his I-know-more-than-you attitude, making it difficult to intimidate him.

He hadn't even really fought back that much, mostly just squirming a bit in Frank's grip.

Frank kept forgetting that Gerard wasn't an assassin in a typical sense. He didn't beat people up, or get in fights, or anything of that nature. He relied on smooth words and cunning weapons to get the job done for him, so when faced with an actual physical conflict, he was helpless.

Now the red-haired man sat on Frank's bed, tied against the headboard, his blue suit jacket still undone from the convention, watching him like he was the most fascinating exhibit.

"Y'know," he commented dryly. "I usually get to know people a bit better before I let them tie me to their beds." 

Frank stopped his pacing to look at his prisoner, hoping his cheeks weren't tinted too brightly.

He turned away and began pouring water in the coffee pot, mostly just to have something to do rather than the actual desire for coffee.

"It's not nice to ignore people," Gerard pointed out.

"It's not nice to kill people either, but that never stopped you," Frank snapped before he could think, getting extremely annoyed with his prisoner's behavior. Couldn't he just be normal and threaten Frank or bribe him to set him free?

Gerard shrugged, not looking the least bit upset.

"True," he admitted. "But I was getting paid," he pointed out. "You're just ignoring me for the fun of it."

"Yes, I am," Frank agreed, wishing the room had a TV that didn't produce a terrible whining noise that would shatter his ear drums (he had tested it out earlier), or else he could turn it on to maybe shut this man up.

Unfortunately, his uninspiring reply somehow inspired Gerard to speak even more.

"That's not nice at all," he continued, ignoring Frank's frustrated countenance. "You're being selfish and mean just to be mean, whereas I had a reason. And now here I am trying to have a normal conversation while you ignore me, so really I think you should be the one tied to the bed, not me."

Frank struggled to block out his words. He had never apprehended anyone who talked so damn much before. Usually criminals threatened him, or tried to be intimidating, before realizing that didn't work well on a CIA agent who had you restrained, then they moved on to bribing, convincing, and sometimes even begging.

Gerard just being plain annoying was grating on his nerves more than any other possible alternative.

"Aren't police supposed to be nice?" Gerard kept on going, firing off questions no matter the lack of reaction from Frank. "Are you even a police officer? Where are you from? Or are you the CIA? Or the FBI? Are there any more secret acronyms? Have you ever been to Area 51? Is that a real thing? Or is it like in that one movie with the aliens when it isn't actually 51 but some other number, and Area 51 is just the cover-up conspiracy for the actual conspiracy? Ooh, are you an agent? Agent Frank? Actually, it would probably be your last name, now that I think about it. Unless your last name is Frank. Is your last name Frank?"