Interrogating a suspect was always a pain in the neck. Most were in poor moods due to the very nature of being interrogated, and even if they were, somehow, in a good mood, they tended to ramble and not get to the point and need to be prodded in the right direction from time to time.

What they usually did not do was hit on you.

You'd been utterly blindsided. The interrogation room was not a place to make a move. It was gray and had sickly white LED lighting and was about as comfortable as a cold stone floor.

Alec, your partner for the case, had kept his wits about him even through the horrifically mistimed flirting. Which made sense, considering he wasn't on the receiving end of the romantic advance.

"I'll thank ye to stop flirtin' an' makin' goo-goo eyes at my DS," he said coldly. "It's neither the time nor the place."