Ensemble - In Interrogation
Fandom: Buffyverse/CSI:NY/Supernatural
Title: In Interrogation
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce/Lindsay Monroe, Don Flack/Faith Lehane, Sam Winchester, Mac Taylor and Samantha Flack.
tamingthemuse Prompt: Vigilance
24hour_themes Prompt: 04:00 ~ Improved luck or victory over a specific set of deterring circumstances.
Content Warning: Spoilers for 510: Abandon All Hope (SPN).
Summary: Three different interrogations in three different circumstances.
Author’s Note: Part of my Devil Town series . Follows the end of “Myxo-What?”.
Disclaimer: I do not own. They all belong to Joss, Zukier and Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
“You sure these are the people who grabbed you?”
Samantha stared into the window and sighed, before running a hand through her hair. “I-I don’t know. They’re not the same people who were there in the beginning. They let me out, and they say they’re Spike’s friends, but … ”
Her brother gave a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face as he glanced into the interrogation rooms. It was four AM and she was tired -- she knew he knew that -- but there was still a lot that hadn't been accounted for. “The uniforms said that they were chasing you out of the stadium. Is that true?”
“Yes, they were trying to stop me, but … ” she closed her eyes. “Donnie, I was so scared I don’t know what was going on. I could hear Spike screaming for me, but I don’t know where I was or what happened.”
He pulled out a group of photos, laying them out in front of her before asking the next question. “Do you recognize any of these people?”
Samantha’s eyes roamed over the pictures for a moment before pointing out one of the pictures with a nod. “Him. He was the guy who grabbed us in the first place.” Her head then tilted at the way he was placed in the photograph. “Is he dead?”
Flack nodded. “Along with four other people. The woman claims it was in self-defense-that Spike, your boyfriend? He would have been killed if she didn’t act.”
She watched her brother as he spoke, before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why am I sensing a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”
Flack smirked a bit before speaking. “This wouldn’t be the first time she’s killed. She spent three years in prison in California for manslaughter until she escaped, and she’s been in the wind ever since. This guy-” He moved over to one of the other windows where they had placed Sam Winchester. “-has a brother who’s been linked to four murders, and we think that he may be an accomplice, never mind having a list of arrests for credit card fraud, trespassing, and grave desecration, and the last one?” He gestured over to the final room, where ‘Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’ was sitting, scribbling away on one of the pads. “He supposedly died five years ago. But his prints and DNA match, so whatever your boyfriend has gotten himself into? It’s probably not as simple as they say. Never mind the fact that Spike is nowhere to be found.”
She took that in slowly, trying to process all of what he was saying and not wanting to believe any of it. It would be easy just to write these people off as ‘friends’ that weren’t really friends, but there was something in her gut that with the way Spike was acting, there was more to the story, and she didn’t know what that was yet. “You do what you gotta do, Donnie. But that’s what happened.”
Flack nodded, before turning back to where Mac and Lindsay were standing. “How do you want to handle this?”
“I want Wesley,” Lindsay replied quickly-more quickly than either of them had expected. Flack just shrugged at that, before turning back to Mac. “Do you want to take Winchester before the feds get here for him, or should I?”
“Sam’s no good without his brother,” Mac replied. “I’ll take him, you go deal with Lehane.”
“Fine by me,” Flack replied, before they all turned to disappear into the interrogation rooms.
***
Lindsay had no idea what to do with the information that she had. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was supposed to be dead. And not just legally dead to help him fly under the radar like the Winchesters were but dead dead, burned to death in the ruins of LA during the last major Apocalypse. All of her contacts through the Watcher’s council and through Buffy told her that this was true, and yet there he was, sitting there in front of her-no demon, no shapeshifter, just a person that somehow had found himself back from the dead. She had no idea if he was even intact, mentally, but there seemed to be enough of him left that he was translating symbols from something that she didn’t even understand.
As she made her way into the room, she shut off the microphone that would have recorded their conversation. Of all of the people they had to interrogate, Wesley was the least dangerous and seemed to know the most. Given that Mac and the rest of the members of the precinct didn’t know what she did in her off time, it was safe to say that this wasn’t a conversation she wanted recorded for the rest of the world to hear.
“So. Here’s the deal,” she sighed as she sat down, crossing her fingers in front of her on the table. “You tell me what you know and why you’re here. I report this back to Buffy and Giles and if-if-it checks out with what they know I will see what I can do about getting you, Faith and Sam out of here before the FBI shows up to collect Sam Winchester.”
Wesley’s head snapped up in surprise at the mention of names he knew, and then looked around the interrogation room curiously. “A Watcher who’s also a police officer?”
She shrugged. “Girl’s got to earn a living somehow.”
“I suppose that is true,” he said with a slight chuckle, before turning and lacing his fingers in front of him, matching her posture. “Where would you like me to begin?”
“Well, firstly, from what I understand, you’re supposed to be dead.”
“I am,” he sighed. “I was killed by a member of the Circle of the Black Thorn back in 2005. I was recently resurrected because a group of demons needed my assistance in reading a scroll of some importance. Due to the sensitive nature of the information, the prophet who had transcribed it so that it could only be read by human eyes.”
“So why you? Why not some poor schmuck who happened to be available?”
“The original text was written in Ancient Sumerian. I doubt some poor schmuck from the street would cut it. And since my soul was still attached to Wolfram and Hart, due to my time there, I was convenient.”
“I see,” she sighed. “What did the scrolls say?”
“The details were for a ceremony, involving an opportunity of immeasurable power,” Wesley shifted so that he was facing her more. “It’s safe to assume that you are aware of the situation regarding Lucifer and who Sam and Dean Winchester are?”
“The vessels for the final battle-I’ve read up on the lore.” She turned that over in her head for a moment. “Do you think that this ceremony is some way to boost Lucifer’s power?”
“At first, yes.” He then turned the pad he was writing on around in front of her and let her read what he had written. “But now that I’m looking at the information, I’m afraid that we might have misread this completely.”
She scanned over the information quickly, before looking up at him with wide eyes. “This can’t be … ”
“Mind you, I’m not one hundred percent positive, but did you know that there is a defunct Hellmouth sitting under the old Yankees Stadium.”
Lindsay pushed herself up at that, before rushing for the door. “I have to make a phone call. Don’t go anywhere.”
***
“Aww, c’mon Blue. I’m just havin’ a little fun.”
She had to say-New York City had some fine looking men in uniform. Women too, if that Bonasera chick was anything to go by. The guy sitting in front of her now was definitely one of the better looking people to have interrogated her in a long time. She hated sitting in prison, and while she was pretty sure her ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card was somewhere along the way, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to have a little bit of fun while she was at it. Flirting with this detective-Flack, which was amusing in its own right-was her idea of a good time.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in, Faith?” Flack replied, shifting so that he was leaning forward to look at her more, and those damn blue eyes were even closer. “Never mind the fact that you’re a fugitive-we’ve got four murders here that we can attribute to you and you alone. That’s not going to end well.”
“I told you, that shit was self-defense,” she said with a sigh, kicking her feet up on the interrogation table to get comfortable. “They were gonna kill my good buddy, Spike. And I was the one who let his girl out of that box they’d stashed her in-that should at least earn me a few brownie points.”
She saw something flash in his eyes at the mention of the girl, but she didn’t think much of it. Maybe they knew each other. Faith vaguely remembered the girl shouting that her brother was a cop while she was getting arrested, but there wasn’t much that she cared to remember after that. “Only problem with that little scenario is that we can’t find Spike anywhere. Who’s to say that you didn’t kill him and stash him somewhere, before turning around to finish the job on the girlfriend?”
“Well, I didn’t, because Spike is a friend, and I wouldn’t do that to him.” Faith snorted. “Have you even tried calling Peroxide Boy and askin’ where he’s at? Or is that too high above normal police work these days?” She watched him for a minute, watched as his eyes flickered with the simplicity of that one, and smirked. “Yeah. I thought so.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for the other four murders, Faith.”
She shrugged. “Not yet. But I’m not sweatin’ it too much yet.” She laced her fingers behind her head and gave him a wolfish grin. “You get back to me after you make that phone call, ‘kay?”
She almost managed to squash commenting on how adorable he was when he stormed out. Almost.
***
“Where’s your brother, Sam?”
Sam’s eyes rolled up at the detective standing over him, trying not to shift his wrists uncomfortably in the handcuffs. The minute his prints were processed and they knew who he was he had been tied down like he was some kind of rabid dog, and he didn’t appreciate it. But that was what happened when people drew assumptions from things they didn’t understand. Sam and Dean got arrested, blamed for murder and generally got shoved up shit creek without a paddle
It sucked.
But at least now, unlike their last run in with the law, Dean and Sam had someone they can call when they were offered their phone call. So it was just a matter of waiting until someone remembered to check their voicemail and made their way to his location. Until then, he just had to stall this Detective Taylor guy, and that was harder than most. Mac Taylor had a very strong moral compass. He’d make a great hunter. He probably was a great cop too-but on this one, he was sadly misinformed.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, reaching up far enough to rub his eyes with his fingers. The cuff pinched, but his eye itched and that was the bigger problem at the moment. He really wasn’t all that concerned. He would be out of here in five minutes anyway. “We got split up. New York City’s a big place. He could be anywhere by now.”
“And you expect me to believe that phone call you made earlier wasn’t to your brother, telling him to lay low?” Mac leaned in closer to him, looking Sam dead in the eye. “We know you have a system so that you can find each other without actually contacting each other. What is it?”
“Even if we has a system-which we don’t-why the hell would I tell you that?”
“Because before your brother got you mixed up in all of this, you were a good kid, Sam. You don’t deserve to go down completely for what he did.”
Sam nodded, before giving him a smirk as there was a flutter of wings behind him. “Who says I’m going to go down at all?”
“You think you can escape?”
Sam smirked, before nodding over Mac’s shoulder. “Behind you.”
Mac turned and saw Castiel standing behind him. The angel didn’t hesitate, pressing two fingers the front of the man’s forehead, and Mac fell asleep instantly, dropping back across the table. Sam gave him a small smile, before shaking the cuffs he had been picking his way out of.
“Took you long enough.”
Castiel just gave him a blank look, before reaching for his shoulder. “We need to go. Now.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Title: In Interrogation
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce/Lindsay Monroe, Don Flack/Faith Lehane, Sam Winchester, Mac Taylor and Samantha Flack.
tamingthemuse Prompt: Vigilance
24hour_themes Prompt: 04:00 ~ Improved luck or victory over a specific set of deterring circumstances.
Content Warning: Spoilers for 510: Abandon All Hope (SPN).
Summary: Three different interrogations in three different circumstances.
Author’s Note: Part of my Devil Town series . Follows the end of “Myxo-What?”.
Disclaimer: I do not own. They all belong to Joss, Zukier and Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
“You sure these are the people who grabbed you?”
Samantha stared into the window and sighed, before running a hand through her hair. “I-I don’t know. They’re not the same people who were there in the beginning. They let me out, and they say they’re Spike’s friends, but … ”
Her brother gave a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face as he glanced into the interrogation rooms. It was four AM and she was tired -- she knew he knew that -- but there was still a lot that hadn't been accounted for. “The uniforms said that they were chasing you out of the stadium. Is that true?”
“Yes, they were trying to stop me, but … ” she closed her eyes. “Donnie, I was so scared I don’t know what was going on. I could hear Spike screaming for me, but I don’t know where I was or what happened.”
He pulled out a group of photos, laying them out in front of her before asking the next question. “Do you recognize any of these people?”
Samantha’s eyes roamed over the pictures for a moment before pointing out one of the pictures with a nod. “Him. He was the guy who grabbed us in the first place.” Her head then tilted at the way he was placed in the photograph. “Is he dead?”
Flack nodded. “Along with four other people. The woman claims it was in self-defense-that Spike, your boyfriend? He would have been killed if she didn’t act.”
She watched her brother as he spoke, before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why am I sensing a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”
Flack smirked a bit before speaking. “This wouldn’t be the first time she’s killed. She spent three years in prison in California for manslaughter until she escaped, and she’s been in the wind ever since. This guy-” He moved over to one of the other windows where they had placed Sam Winchester. “-has a brother who’s been linked to four murders, and we think that he may be an accomplice, never mind having a list of arrests for credit card fraud, trespassing, and grave desecration, and the last one?” He gestured over to the final room, where ‘Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’ was sitting, scribbling away on one of the pads. “He supposedly died five years ago. But his prints and DNA match, so whatever your boyfriend has gotten himself into? It’s probably not as simple as they say. Never mind the fact that Spike is nowhere to be found.”
She took that in slowly, trying to process all of what he was saying and not wanting to believe any of it. It would be easy just to write these people off as ‘friends’ that weren’t really friends, but there was something in her gut that with the way Spike was acting, there was more to the story, and she didn’t know what that was yet. “You do what you gotta do, Donnie. But that’s what happened.”
Flack nodded, before turning back to where Mac and Lindsay were standing. “How do you want to handle this?”
“I want Wesley,” Lindsay replied quickly-more quickly than either of them had expected. Flack just shrugged at that, before turning back to Mac. “Do you want to take Winchester before the feds get here for him, or should I?”
“Sam’s no good without his brother,” Mac replied. “I’ll take him, you go deal with Lehane.”
“Fine by me,” Flack replied, before they all turned to disappear into the interrogation rooms.
***
Lindsay had no idea what to do with the information that she had. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was supposed to be dead. And not just legally dead to help him fly under the radar like the Winchesters were but dead dead, burned to death in the ruins of LA during the last major Apocalypse. All of her contacts through the Watcher’s council and through Buffy told her that this was true, and yet there he was, sitting there in front of her-no demon, no shapeshifter, just a person that somehow had found himself back from the dead. She had no idea if he was even intact, mentally, but there seemed to be enough of him left that he was translating symbols from something that she didn’t even understand.
As she made her way into the room, she shut off the microphone that would have recorded their conversation. Of all of the people they had to interrogate, Wesley was the least dangerous and seemed to know the most. Given that Mac and the rest of the members of the precinct didn’t know what she did in her off time, it was safe to say that this wasn’t a conversation she wanted recorded for the rest of the world to hear.
“So. Here’s the deal,” she sighed as she sat down, crossing her fingers in front of her on the table. “You tell me what you know and why you’re here. I report this back to Buffy and Giles and if-if-it checks out with what they know I will see what I can do about getting you, Faith and Sam out of here before the FBI shows up to collect Sam Winchester.”
Wesley’s head snapped up in surprise at the mention of names he knew, and then looked around the interrogation room curiously. “A Watcher who’s also a police officer?”
She shrugged. “Girl’s got to earn a living somehow.”
“I suppose that is true,” he said with a slight chuckle, before turning and lacing his fingers in front of him, matching her posture. “Where would you like me to begin?”
“Well, firstly, from what I understand, you’re supposed to be dead.”
“I am,” he sighed. “I was killed by a member of the Circle of the Black Thorn back in 2005. I was recently resurrected because a group of demons needed my assistance in reading a scroll of some importance. Due to the sensitive nature of the information, the prophet who had transcribed it so that it could only be read by human eyes.”
“So why you? Why not some poor schmuck who happened to be available?”
“The original text was written in Ancient Sumerian. I doubt some poor schmuck from the street would cut it. And since my soul was still attached to Wolfram and Hart, due to my time there, I was convenient.”
“I see,” she sighed. “What did the scrolls say?”
“The details were for a ceremony, involving an opportunity of immeasurable power,” Wesley shifted so that he was facing her more. “It’s safe to assume that you are aware of the situation regarding Lucifer and who Sam and Dean Winchester are?”
“The vessels for the final battle-I’ve read up on the lore.” She turned that over in her head for a moment. “Do you think that this ceremony is some way to boost Lucifer’s power?”
“At first, yes.” He then turned the pad he was writing on around in front of her and let her read what he had written. “But now that I’m looking at the information, I’m afraid that we might have misread this completely.”
She scanned over the information quickly, before looking up at him with wide eyes. “This can’t be … ”
“Mind you, I’m not one hundred percent positive, but did you know that there is a defunct Hellmouth sitting under the old Yankees Stadium.”
Lindsay pushed herself up at that, before rushing for the door. “I have to make a phone call. Don’t go anywhere.”
***
“Aww, c’mon Blue. I’m just havin’ a little fun.”
She had to say-New York City had some fine looking men in uniform. Women too, if that Bonasera chick was anything to go by. The guy sitting in front of her now was definitely one of the better looking people to have interrogated her in a long time. She hated sitting in prison, and while she was pretty sure her ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card was somewhere along the way, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to have a little bit of fun while she was at it. Flirting with this detective-Flack, which was amusing in its own right-was her idea of a good time.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in, Faith?” Flack replied, shifting so that he was leaning forward to look at her more, and those damn blue eyes were even closer. “Never mind the fact that you’re a fugitive-we’ve got four murders here that we can attribute to you and you alone. That’s not going to end well.”
“I told you, that shit was self-defense,” she said with a sigh, kicking her feet up on the interrogation table to get comfortable. “They were gonna kill my good buddy, Spike. And I was the one who let his girl out of that box they’d stashed her in-that should at least earn me a few brownie points.”
She saw something flash in his eyes at the mention of the girl, but she didn’t think much of it. Maybe they knew each other. Faith vaguely remembered the girl shouting that her brother was a cop while she was getting arrested, but there wasn’t much that she cared to remember after that. “Only problem with that little scenario is that we can’t find Spike anywhere. Who’s to say that you didn’t kill him and stash him somewhere, before turning around to finish the job on the girlfriend?”
“Well, I didn’t, because Spike is a friend, and I wouldn’t do that to him.” Faith snorted. “Have you even tried calling Peroxide Boy and askin’ where he’s at? Or is that too high above normal police work these days?” She watched him for a minute, watched as his eyes flickered with the simplicity of that one, and smirked. “Yeah. I thought so.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for the other four murders, Faith.”
She shrugged. “Not yet. But I’m not sweatin’ it too much yet.” She laced her fingers behind her head and gave him a wolfish grin. “You get back to me after you make that phone call, ‘kay?”
She almost managed to squash commenting on how adorable he was when he stormed out. Almost.
***
“Where’s your brother, Sam?”
Sam’s eyes rolled up at the detective standing over him, trying not to shift his wrists uncomfortably in the handcuffs. The minute his prints were processed and they knew who he was he had been tied down like he was some kind of rabid dog, and he didn’t appreciate it. But that was what happened when people drew assumptions from things they didn’t understand. Sam and Dean got arrested, blamed for murder and generally got shoved up shit creek without a paddle
It sucked.
But at least now, unlike their last run in with the law, Dean and Sam had someone they can call when they were offered their phone call. So it was just a matter of waiting until someone remembered to check their voicemail and made their way to his location. Until then, he just had to stall this Detective Taylor guy, and that was harder than most. Mac Taylor had a very strong moral compass. He’d make a great hunter. He probably was a great cop too-but on this one, he was sadly misinformed.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, reaching up far enough to rub his eyes with his fingers. The cuff pinched, but his eye itched and that was the bigger problem at the moment. He really wasn’t all that concerned. He would be out of here in five minutes anyway. “We got split up. New York City’s a big place. He could be anywhere by now.”
“And you expect me to believe that phone call you made earlier wasn’t to your brother, telling him to lay low?” Mac leaned in closer to him, looking Sam dead in the eye. “We know you have a system so that you can find each other without actually contacting each other. What is it?”
“Even if we has a system-which we don’t-why the hell would I tell you that?”
“Because before your brother got you mixed up in all of this, you were a good kid, Sam. You don’t deserve to go down completely for what he did.”
Sam nodded, before giving him a smirk as there was a flutter of wings behind him. “Who says I’m going to go down at all?”
“You think you can escape?”
Sam smirked, before nodding over Mac’s shoulder. “Behind you.”
Mac turned and saw Castiel standing behind him. The angel didn’t hesitate, pressing two fingers the front of the man’s forehead, and Mac fell asleep instantly, dropping back across the table. Sam gave him a small smile, before shaking the cuffs he had been picking his way out of.
“Took you long enough.”
Castiel just gave him a blank look, before reaching for his shoulder. “We need to go. Now.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”