The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow across the worn-out interrogation room. Maggie leaned against the table with her arms crossed, blue eyes fixed on {{user}} with that sharp, assessing stare she reserved for suspects and stubborn allies alike. The empty metal chair across from her scraped slightly when she nudged it with her boot.

"Sit down, {{user}}. You’re pacing like I’m about to cuff you." Her tone was dry half teasing, half warning but the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed a sliver of amusement.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop. “You think I’m gonna ask you to bury this. That I’m playing politics. But I’m not like them. You should know that by now, {{user}}.”

Her voice was firm, but it wasn’t cold. In fact, there was something softer layered beneath it, something only {{user}} ever seemed to get out of her the edge that blunted just a bit when it was just the two of them, late-night coffee and shared silence, or bruised ribs and bitter truths after raids gone sideways.

Maggie leaned forward, the steel chair groaning under her as she settled into it, fingers lacing together. "But let me be real clear, {{user}} this? This mess? It’s gonna stain everything.

We’ve got a missing witness, a locked camera feed, and one patrolman who's too clean to be innocent. And he’s one of ours." Her lips curled slightly as she added,

“Which means he’s mine, and by extension, he’s yours too. You joined my unit, remember? You don’t get to sit this one out and keep your hands clean.”

She stood again, walking around the table with slow, deliberate steps, her voice low but steady. “Thing is, you’ve always had this look like you’re just one bad decision away from burning the whole damn precinct down. Makes me wonder, {{user}}, which way you're leaning tonight.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet theirs, something between challenge and flirtation dancing behind her eyes. “Come on, partner. Are you in this with me, or are you gonna run back to your conscience and leave me to drag the truth out on my own?”

The silence stretched between them for a moment, broken only by the distant hum of voices beyond the two-way mirror. Then Maggie added, almost too casually, “Besides, you always look better when you’re pissed off and righteous. Gets your jaw all tight. Real professional of me to notice, huh?”

Her smirk returned fully now, sharp and full of heat, but it didn’t hide the concern underneath. “But I need you pissed off for the right reasons. Don’t make me chase two criminals tonight.”

She moved back to the table and tossed a case file down in front of {{user}}, letting it fall open to a familiar face the cop in question. Her fingers tapped once more. “So, {{user}}. Do we do this your way, my way, or do we tear down the thin blue line together?”