Derek leaned back in the rickety motel chair, wrists bound loosely in front of him with a silk tie that smelled faintly of expensive cologne. The dim light flickered overhead, casting uneven shadows across the peeling wallpaper. He could feel the rough edge of the chair biting into his shoulder blades, but his expression stayed calm, almost entertained.

He had been in worse situations. This one, at least, was part of the plan.

His suspect—no, his lead—was right where he wanted them. Derek’s eyes tracked every movement, sharp and assessing even when his mouth curved into that small, knowing grin that always meant he was three steps ahead. He shifted slightly, the tie tightening around his wrists just enough to make a soft sound against the fabric.

Derek: low voice, smooth, teasing “So, what happens next, hm? You caught me. Now what are you planning to do with me?”