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James likes his quiet mornings at the office, being able to sit at his desk and enjoy his morning coffee, maybe even read the news for a little bit before he dives into cases, interrogations, files or meetings. It’s a nice morning too, not the overly warm kind when the sun is out earlier and makes everything glow in that yellow tint that makes most people happy, this one is more of a greyish hue, when the clouds don’t break yet and the sky is overcast. Call him strange, but he does like it when there’s less sunshine. He’s ready to sit down and take his first sip when Inga, his secretary walks inside and drops a file on his desk.
James groans loudly, making the woman smile. “Is the first one of the day, sir. And I think you are going to like this one.”
“Inga, a file? I thought by this time we would already be exclusively using devices, tablets or… some other futuristic technology.”
“You have told me you are old fashioned in that sense, Director, so I am keeping it like that. Besides, if you are going to be interrogating this person, I don’t really think you want to be holding a device that can be used as a weapon.”
“Is the guy dangerous?” It spikes his curiosity, because he has no idea what awaits him in those pages or even in that interrogation room in the near future.
Inga shrugs one shoulder and walks towards the door to go back to her desk. “He was in possession of a weapon, but it doesn’t say that he used it at any point during the arrest.” That’s good enough for James, to know that he doesn’t have to deal with someone’s anger or violence for the moment, this damn early in the morning. “They are waiting for you in Interrogation room 3.”
She exists with nothing else to say and leaves the door open for him, knowing that he will be walking out of his office in no time. James stands and walks towards his window, it’s wide and reaches from floor to ceiling; the view of DC in the morning makes him smile most mornings, he likes to stand there for a few seconds while he is working on a case, or trying to break one of the many blocks that come on cases, the movement eight stories below allows his brain to move with it, like a wave or a never ending string that goes around and around. He takes a sip of his coffee; this morning he went for something different, a salted caramel cream hot brew. Is good, but maybe cold would be better. But who knows, he’s not a fan of Starbucks anyways, that’s his bad coffee, his ‘I’m running late, and I need some caffeine’ coffee.
Going back to the desk and grabbing the file, James opens it and scans his grey-blue eyes over the first page.
Name: Steve Grant Rogers
Age: 35
Height: 6 ft
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Blue
Nationality: United States
Country of birth: United States
So, a fellow citizen. James looks at the picture then, he doesn’t know how long ago they took this picture, but the face that greets him makes his stomach spark with butterflies. He has seen his fair share of handsome men in his line of work, from all over the country and in every shape, size and color, but Steve Grant Rogers is something else. The man is tall, as tall as James himself, and fit, if his facial features are anything to go by. He finds himself obsessing over those ridiculous blue eyes, like cornflowers and that jaw line is so sinfully sharp it makes him have all kinds of inappropriate thoughts.
The second page on the file lets him know the reason for the arrest in the first place and it makes him curious when he reads that code: File FW 5422864. Usually, coded files are ongoing investigations on cases that are not open to the public, cases that are under the protection of International Cooperation Law and cases on missions that the vast majority of the population has no idea are happening, hell, most people in positions of power have no idea they are happening. James knows that it must be something important if they are giving him this file and this person for interrogation; no other FBI agent unless cleared for it can take this.
So… who is Steve Rogers and what is he doing here and why?
Snatching the file with a little bit of annoyance, the FBI and director walks out of his office and towards the elevator; two floors down is enough for him to make a decision: he needs to have that file if he’s going to be interrogating this person and needs to make sure that he is not breaking any rules, so if there is anyone to call, they need to be called.
Once he reaches the 6th floor, he moves down the hall and nods to the two guards that are positioned outside the door. He assumes there is one inside too, just in case. When he does, he sees three people in the interrogation room. Neela, the polygraph technician, another agent and Steve Grant Rogers. The man is sitting down, already connected to the machine and his eyes lock on him when he steps in the room, there is no readable expression on his face or his eyes, just a man looking at a newcomer. He’s good… whatever his job is.
“Mr. Rogers, right?” James asks and drops the file on the table, Rogers’ eyes move to it and a small smirk lifts the corner of his lips.
“Really? I thought you were going to be carrying something fancier than this.”
“I am a man of simple needs.” The brunette scoffs and mumbles ‘I can see that.’
“So, before we start this interrogation, I am going to ask you, off record, if I need to be calling someone before we start.” James taps his index finger on the cover of the yellow folder twice before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “There’s a file I need to read and if there is anyone that is… a boss or in charge of whatever it is you are doing, I need to know.”
“Nick Fury.” Is all that Steve Rogers says, his eyes moving from James’ face down to his arms and back up; James feels as if he’s been studied, looked under a microscope, but he has been doing this job for a while and one does not make it to be the Director of the FBI by being an open book for everyone to read. With his right hand, James motions the guard inside the room to go out and make the call or get someone to make the call. The important thing here is that they need Nick here. As the guard opens the door and walks outside, James speaks a little louder to one of the guys outside. “Get Inga to find and bring File FW 5422864, please.” He hears footsteps and nods to himself.
He looks at Neela, who is quietly sitting down, waiting for the whole thing to happen.
“So why are you here and why did my guys pick you up, Steve Rogers?”
The man doesn’t open his mouth, he follows James as he walks towards the glass pane that leads to the hallway. The silence stretches as James leans against the glass, the other man keeps his eyes on him, the way he holds himself, the way he crosses his arms, and it makes him a little… anxious, not because he is looking, but because the man is making him hyper-aware of himself. He doesn’t want to look ridiculous, like he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, like a rookie that is getting sweaty handed by the bad guy in the interrogation room.
“I guess we’ll wait then.” He’s not sure how long Inga is going to take finding the file or how long this Nick Fury person is going to take to show up, but James is patient, he can wait. “Neela, please go and get yourself a coffee, we won’t be starting any time soon.” He smiles as the woman stands up and takes her leave from the room. The door is still open and there is one guard standing in there, just in case. James takes a seat across from Steve and crosses his legs, rests his hands on his thigh.
“What’s your name?” Steve asks, his voice is deep, like he doesn’t use it much.
“James. Barnes…” The last name comes as an afterthought, he wasn’t really planning on letting the man know about it but given that he knows more about him because of his file, it’s only fair.
“James Barnes… You run this place, do you not?” There is no discernible accent to the man’s words, they’re all very sterile, very neutral, nothing to give away any sort of information on who he is or where he comes from.
“You could say that.” There is a small huff of laughter on his own answer. Sometimes it feels like it runs him instead of the other way around. But he manages just fine.
“You sound like a man that doesn’t like his job. Do you like your job, James Barnes?” Steve sits back on the chair, right arms still resting on the table where the wires are still connected to him, but his posture changes, he relaxes and lounges back on the chair he is on, as if this was not an interrogation room.
“It makes for some interesting stories.”
“But you cannot really tell them to anybody, can you?” Those lips stretch on a smile, it looks halfway genuine, as if this is just an everyday conversation you have with a friend, as if they know each other, his smile is sort of like a secret, something hidden there that no one else can know about. The whole thing makes James smile, a soft pull on his lips because is so endearing. If Steve were not here as a suspect or whatever his status is, the FBI director could honestly like him, he looks approachable enough to put the thought in James’ brain.
“No, I guess not.” He looks at the door to check on the status of things, but neither his secretary nor Nick Fury are anywhere nearby. His eyes then find Steve’s again, those cornflower blues that make him want to stare forever. “So, you are not going to answer any of my questions, huh?”
“Not without Fury here, or until you read my file.” There’s a shrug of one massive shoulder, James has only a second to look at it without being obvious, but they look huge, strong and defined, easy to grab onto…
“Are you one of the good guys or the bad ones?” He stands and leans his hip against the table, looking down at the man on the chair. He gets a cat-like smirk this time, as if he is actually reading James’ mind and his thoughts – which are completely out of place in a place like this – before saying.
“I try to help your people when I can. And that, James Barnes, is already too much information coming from me.”
James is about to answer to that when two sets of footsteps can be heard through the open door, he stands straight and turns in time to see his agent and a tall man dressed in black… eye patch and all. Well, shit… what the fuck is this guy working for?
“Nick Fury?”
“Indeed. Can I have Mr. Rogers released now? There is no need for this whole charade.”
“I have not yet- “
“Here. Everything you need to know is right there.” Another yellow folder, this one a lot thicker than the one he brought with him. “Believe me, Director, if you need to arrest him you will find the address in there.” That one eye does not tell lies as he looks James with, again, no expression to betray a thing. James knows better than to stretch unnecessary procedures.
“Alright, he’s all yours.” James allows one of his agents to take the polygraph cables and such from Rogers’ hand and arm and take it away. Fury holds his hand out to him, and as James shakes it, the older man says. “Thank you for your cooperation director. Rogers, let's go.”
Without another word he leaves and Rogers stands up, stands in front of James and offers his hand. “Thank you, for the lovely morning.”
James chuckles and shakes his hand, it’s warm and soft, except in those parts where fingers and palm manipulate guns on a regular basis. “Welcome, but don’t come back here.”
The brunet pouts a little and then says. “Then how am I going to see you again?”
“Oh! I am sure you can find out a thing or two about me. Since you and everything you do is so secretive, you are obviously not an average Joe with a desk job.”
Their hands fall apart, and Steve shrugs one delicious looking shoulder again, his expression amused. “You’ll know mine if you read that.” He points to the folder in James’ hand. “Call me, won’t you?” And with that, he follows his boss, disappearing from James’ eyesight.
The guards walk away and is just him in the room, it’s quiet except by a distant phone and some people talking. He thinks about the coffee that is waiting for him in his office, the one that is probably cold by now. He picks up his thin folder, holds it in front of the one Nick left and makes his way back to the elevator; he’s got some reading to do.
So much for quiet mornings.