A decoy.

Atlas snaps the clearance card, running a finger over the jagged edge.

It was a fucking decoy.

Officer Maya fucking Harrington raises an eyebrow, clasping her hands together over the table.

"Who the fuck has a decoy clearance card?" He growls.

She shrugs delicately, golden hair bouncing slightly with the movement.

Atlas freezes for a moment, torn between wanting to set it on fucking fire, and desperately needing to stroke it. He shakes his head, digging the card deeper into his palms.

"Who the fuck is dumb enough to put their clearance card in their fucking wallet."

He growls, and she smiles tauntingly, cocking her head to the side.

"Want to know where I keep the real one?"

Atlas stares at her, lips slightly parted, as her hands trail upwards, and she uses two fingers to teasingly tap at her chest.

Fuck.

"A bra is a girl's best friend," she murmurs.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Atlas Stone is quickly losing any leverage he had over her in this situation, and he needs to get it back. Now.

So, he leans over the table, and does what he's been wanting to do, since the moment he saw her. He buries a hand deep into her hair, fingertips grazing her scalp.

She whimpers, as he tugs gently, pulling her face towards him, and presses a mocking kiss against her jawline.

"You know," he whispers against her skin, "Teasing isn't nice, Maya."

She gulps audibly, shifting nervously. Atlas tries to ignore it, but he can't. He can't fucking ignore the way his body reacts, tensing with alertness, prickling slightly at her touch.

"Neither is murder," she replies, pressing both hands to his chest, in an attempt to physically move him away.

Atlas relents, leaning back, running his thumb over the dip just below his lower lip.

"You still don't have any proof, you know." He stretches languidly, rolling his neck, before resting his ankle over his thigh.

"Your DNA was found on the gun," she states, pinning him with an expectant look, as though she expected him to confess his sins, and drink some Holy Water.

He chokes a laugh.

Not fucking likely.

Her eyes narrow in confusion, and Atlas raises a taunting eyebrow.

She averts her gaze, picking up a small pencil, and twisting it between her fingers.

He can't not get caught.

The entire fucking point of his existence relies on him getting caught every single fucking time.

But still, Atlas Stone just loves to make life difficult.

"Your point, Officer?" He questions mockingly, fixing his features into an expression of pure innocence.

Her composure slips slightly, and he can't fucking hide the way his hair stands on end, when she turns her head, icy blue eyes searing into him.

"My point," she replies crisply, "Is that your DNA was all over the fucking crime scene." She tilts her head, observing him for a second, and her tongue darts out, to graze her lips. "You don't need to be a fucking officer, to know that looks pretty fucking suspicious, Mr Stone."

Atlas raises an eyebrow.

"Does it?"

The nib of the pencil breaks, as she drives it into the table.

Atlas grins in satisfaction, kicking his feet up to rest on the table, as he gazes at her challengingly.

"Mr Stone," the officer spits in distaste, gingerly nudging his feet of the desk with the pencil, "This is a murder investigation, and-"

He scoffs.

She clears her throat.

"And it would be in your best interest to-"

Atlas yawns loudly.

She glares, blonde hair shifting against her shoulders as she clenches her fists.

"It would be in your best interest not to lie."

He shrugs lazily.

"Why ever would I lie?"

The woman growls.

"Listen, Maya," he begins, edging towards her. "I'm not sure if you've realised, but I really don't give a fuck."

Her eyes widen in shock.

"Arrest me," he continues, "Don't arrest me, I don't really care."

Atlas pauses, pulling another cigarette from his pocket, and tucking it between his teeth. He holds it there for a second, almost daring her to do something.

Maya leans forward, biting the end of the cigarette, and tugging it away.

"Fuck this," she mutters, fingers trembling as she lights the end with his rusting lighter.

He smiles, leaning against his forearms, and brushing the side of her face, with a long tapered finger.

"I knew you'd see it my way."