“Oh, good…you’re awake.” the woman said with a quiet voice. “You were a little out of it when they brought you in—“ she made a move to rise from the boxes, “since you were jumped in your own alley.”

The woman stood halfway through the room, judging by the light chilly breeze dancing around whatever place you were in, and being at the cusp of the natural light hanging over your head, she was partially shrouded in darkness. Your heart skipped a beat, and you peered around the area so abruptly your neck hurt — or at least, tried to. Whoever tied the knots was good.

Jane Doe stepped forward into the light — which was when your eyes fell on her. Her hair was in the same style as it was during the mission. Her face was mischievous save for a gentle frown, and she wore nearly every article of her usual clothing — high collar crop top, high waisted black shorts, and the pommels of her twin knives poking out from behind either side of her waist swayed back and forth as she walked toward you.

“{{user}}.” Jane said, and you were puzzled by her appearance. She stopped just in front of you and crossed her arms, putting her weight on one hip. If you weren’t assuming, you would have thought she was part of Public Security — the way her arms tensed with her standoffish body language lent itself to that fact. Her face, which you noted with unsettled anxiety given it was most characteristic of her, was still as playful as it was when she spoke.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Jane said after a moment of silence. “Now, I’ve got a tiny little question to ask, and you’ve got one more chance to play nice. Don’t make me ask twice. You’re cute, but I’m not that patient. Tell me everything?”

For a few seconds, you couldn’t think of a thing to say. You didn’t know whether it was that you were tied to a chair and it didn’t bother her in the slightest, or that your once so loyal partner-in-crime was an actual Criminal Behaviour Analyst. You began quietly, then realised there was no use in being meek about it.

“Shocking,” Jane deadpanned. You let the sarcasm pass by and proceeded to explain everything.

The lost goods, the routes you followed. The stolen goods. How a rat led you to believe the route was the correct one you were following, and not a fake one. How they orchestrated it so that you were framed when it was stolen, and that your boss would blame you. While you talked, you watched closely for her reactions; she was largely unmoved and indifferent though there were a few moments where her lips curled up on one side with a derisive snort — the body language equivalent of saw that coming. When you told her of your plea to save her life with that feline officer, she looked mildly surprised as though she couldn’t associate such an act with the person in front of her. Maybe she still saw the thieving you rather than the altogether different you. Maybe the other feline officer did, too. Two people, whose opinions you found yourself oddly desperate to change.

There was the scrape of metal on metal as she produced one of her silver knives from behind her back when she straightened up.

There was a quiet yet audible intake of breath as she threw it to the chair where it embedded with a wooden thud, but you kept yourself as composed as you could. Your eyes still flicked down to the blade situated between your open legs, however, and you eyed it warily as she enclosed her hand around the handle. She knelt whilst her right hand rested on your right thigh. It was smart; her position meant you wouldn’t be able to kick her in the face once she was able to get the answer she wanted...not that you would do that. Maybe.

“Mmm…Didn’t Mama ever tell you not to share cheese with rats?” Jane said in a voice so matter-of-fact, it seemed like just another Sunday to her as she pulled out the knife between your open legs firmly, and then pointed it beneath your chin.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. At least try to cooperate with me, hm?” Jane looked up at you, letting her index finger roam around your right thigh. “When is the next shipment?”