The Art of Interrogating Bandits (and Sheriffs)
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

Author's Note: Set a few years into the future. No mention of any S4 events. Some minor roleplay and mutual bondage between consenting adults. For Angie – all the best and hope this helps a bit.

II

Snow has seen her husband angry plenty of times. He does have a temper, after all. Not one she fears, no. She never fears it. But she is aware of it. She's seen it directed at King George, at Regina, at Hook, at anyone who threatens what Charming holds dear. Sometimes, it's even been directed at her.

Like now.

He slams the door behind them the minute they enter the apartment. Neal is having his weekly sleepover at his big sister, something he at two years old thinks quite the adventure, so at least Charming won't have to be silent in his anger.

"Snow," he says angrily. "You had no right to..."

"I had every right to," she counters. "He was about to run you over with a car!"

"I could have dodged it!" he nearly shouts, then takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Snow, you rammed him with your car. You could have been hurt, you could have... You could have died."

"So could you!" she says angrily.

"Snow," he practically growls. His eyes are dark, a combination of love and anger, the one fueling the other. She cannot blame him for that. If it was him who had pulled a stunt like this, she would have been just as angry as him – and he would have had the same defense as her. They love each other. Madly, truly, deeply. Of course they will both do fool-hearty, dangerous things to keep the other safe.

And this time it was her turn.

"You can't..." Charming goes on, his voice catching slightly.

She folds her arms, her heart still pounding in her chest from the rush of adrenaline. "I can and I will. I will keep you safe, whatever it takes."

"No," he says passionately, stepping closer. "No, Snow. I love you. I can't lose you. I can't... I... I forbid it."

She swallows at the obvious lust in his voice. This is Charming, though. He will always love her and always want her, she knows. Even when he's angry with her. But that's all right. She's Snow. She'll always love him and always want him. Even when she's angry with him.

"Forbid it?" she echoes, glaring at him. "Whatever makes you think you can forbid me anything?"

"I am the sheriff," he says darkly.

"Well, I am a bandit!" she counters hotly, and they both stare at each other for a moment, breathing heavily.

"So you are," he acknowledges, his voice suddenly softening. "My bandit."

"Your bandit," she agrees, stepping closer. "Charming, I... I love you. I can't lose you. I will never simply stand by and watch you be in danger. No matter what. Not even if..."

"Not even if what?" he asks softly, catching her wrist in his hand and caressing it gently.

"Not even if you cuff me, sheriff," she says, half a joke and half a challenge, and Charming's eyes widen slightly. Then he's kissing her, hard and demanding, and she arches into him impatiently.

She has always considered herself nimble and fast, but so is Charming. Distracted by the kiss, she doesn't even realize what he's doing until it's already done, and her hands are cuffed firmly behind her back.

He smiles into the kiss, the bastard, and she bites lightly on his lower lip in response. That just seems to please him, because he moans softly and locks his arms around her waist and thus her body to his. He keeps kissing her too, greedily and deeply, ever so often nipping lightly at her lips before deepening it again.

She's completely out of breath when he finally pulls back slightly, still keeping his arms around her.

"Charming," she murmurs breathlessly. "Am I under arrest now?"

"Mmmm," he says, brushing his nose against hers. "For reckless endangerment of your own life and for admitted banditry."

"You haven't even read me my rights," she protests. "A confession made before I've been read my rights doesn't count."

He considers that. "I suppose that means I will have to read you your rights and then... interrogate you."

She licks her lips, and then his too, for good measure. "Yes."

"Yes," he agrees, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Snow White, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in..."

"Do I have the right to choose how to remain silent?" she interjects, and she can see him swallow softly.

"I suppose that is within your right," he admits and she smiles wickedly.

"Good," she says, and then she kisses him. He moans at that, and again as she tilts her head and changes the angle of the kiss. With her hands behind her back, she has no way of pulling him closer, but luckily he seems quite, quite eager to meet her kiss. She can feel his hands on her lower back, lifting her up and carrying her a few feet before positioning her sitting on the table. That leaves him standing between her legs, one hand at her back to keep her close and upright, and one hand free to roam the curves of her buttocks.

She would very much like to do the same to him – her husband has a fine, fine behind – but of course, she can't. She groans in frustration at that, and he pulls back slightly to look at her. Whatever he sees makes him smile softly, pressing a light kiss to her nose.

"Ready to confess, bandit?" he teases.

"Is that your best interrogation method?" she teases right back. "I'm afraid, sheriff, you will have to do far better than that."

"I'm afraid you're right," he says, sighing dramatically. "Strip."

She blinks up at him. "Strip?"

"Mm," he says, lifting her sweater up slightly, enough to draw his fingers teasingly against her skin. It makes her swallow. "I've heard many tales of Snow White's banditry and her resourcefulness. I'm afraid I must make sure you're not carrying anything you might use to escape."

"I'm afraid, sheriff Charming, that stripping is quite hard when you have me handcuffed," she points out and he smirks knowingly.

"I shall release you," he says, and she thinks about damn well tearing off his clothes too. "Temporarily."

She pouts, and he gives her lips a light, teasing peck. Moments later she can feel his fingers at her wrists, nimbly unlocking one handcuff and letting her hand out, while keeping the other on.

"Strip," he says again, breathlessly. He steps back, looking at her in that way that always makes her feel naked regardless of what she is wearing. Perhaps it's because he always seems to see her, truly see her, and want all of her.

"If you insist, sheriff," she says, and he swallows. "Perhaps seeing me naked will convince you to let me go."

He shakes his head lightly. "Seeing you naked will only convince me further to never let you go."

"You cannot keep me in custody forever," she counters, pulling her sweater off as smoothly as she can manage, with a pair of handcuffs dangling from one of her wrists. He makes a very satisfied noise at the sight of her bra, one she had been wearing with their children-less evening in mind.

"After you confess to putting yourself in danger for my sake and blatant banditry, yes, I can," he says firmly, watching her through lowered eyelids as she steps out of her boots and then unzips her skirt and lets it fall to the floor.

"One minor problem with that, sheriff," she says cheekily, unhooking her bra deftly. He raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as she steps out of her underwear too, leaving her standing wearing nothing but skin and Charming's hot gaze. "I haven't confessed yet."

"You will," he growls, reaching her in two quick steps and kissing her. She tip-toes into it, her hands already working on the buttons of his shirt. His lips curve into a smile against her lips at that, and she has a few seconds to think she might actually get away with her intent to get him naked too. Then she feels herself being backed into a chair, Charming gently pressing her downwards until she does sit down. She can feel the cushion of the chair soft against her buttocks and the bars of wood at the back smooth against her back, but most of all she's feeling Charming's mouth, hot against her own.

She realizes what he's doing a few seconds too late, as he weaves her hands through the wooden bars at the back of the chair and locks the handcuffs once more. She mouths his name into the kiss, but he only smiles at that, giving her lips a firm peck before pulling away.

He watches her with dark eyes for a moment. She can only imagine how she looks, handcuffed naked to a kitchen chair, her lips swollen and parted, but Charming seems to find the sight very, very enjoyable judging by the bulge in his pants.

He nods to himself, pulling a chair close and sitting down on the edge of it, allowing him to begin a trek of hot, open-mouthed kisses across her skin that always seems to trail back to her breasts and linger there for increasing lengths of time.

She can only sit and endure, yanking at her handcuffs a bit helplessly at first, but soon her head seems to fall backwards of her own accord and she seems to have exchanged her right to remain silent with the right to make a number of undignified noises.

She actually hisses when he bites her nipple lightly, then sucks on it until she's moaning his name instead.

"Snow," he murmurs against her skin in return, her name a caress as surely as his hand stroking her stomach. Every now and then he teasingly dips his fingers lower, but not quite low enough. She digs her fingers into her palm, wondering how this sort of 'interrogation' is meant to be fair. It feels more like a torture – with pleasure.

"Charming," she pleads breathlessly.

"Got anything to confess yet?" he asks in a low voice.

She swallows. "No."

"I hoped you'd say that," he murmurs affectionately. "I love you, my very stubborn bandit."

"I love you too, my equally stubborn sheriff," she replies, and he smiles at her, cupping her head in his hands and kissing her almost tenderly. After a few moments, he kneels down on the floor, moving her legs further apart and stroking her thighs slowly while watching her intently. She bites her lip, but even so can't keep herself from gasping when he slides his palm right between her legs.

His lips curve upwards into one of those smiles that she always wants to kiss, and she flexes her hands against the handcuffs a little helplessly without that doing any good at all. She will have to get him back for this, she decides firmly, moaning helplessly as he rubs two fingers against her.

After a few moments she closes her eyes, letting her head fall to her side and just giving in to what he's making her feel. The pleasure is like heat, warming her skin, seeming to melt her bones into liquid.

"Charming..." she breathes, gasping as his mouth is suddenly between her legs too, and warm, so very warm. She can only feel, feel his fingers and tongue and the pleasure of every touch and caress until there is nothing but the pleasure and it swallows her in orgasm.

She is vaguely aware of Charming kissing her temple, then gently uncuffing her and lifting her into his arms. As she begins to recover control over her limbs, she lifts her head enough to kiss him sloppily. He groans, nearly walking them into a wall before recovering and walking them through the bedroom door instead. (A very sturdy and soundproof door courtesy of Marco for when Neal is older.)

The bed is soft as he lowers her into it, pausing to kiss her wrists before locking the handcuffs again, this time in front of her.

"Charming!" she protests.

"You're still in my custody," he says, and she gives him a look. "Unless you are ready to confess."

"Yes," she sighs, and he raises an eyebrow as if he cannot believe she would give in that easily. "I confess that... I would like to see the sheriff naked."

He laughs, then gives her a soft, lingering kiss. "If you insist, my darling bandit. I suppose I could grant reasonable requests while you're in my custody."

He stands up, leaving her on the bed watching as he effectively strips, leaving his shirt, t-shirt, pants and underwear on a pile in the floor. She watches intently, enjoying the sight of his toned body and smooth skin.

He gives her a cheeky smile. "Any further requests?"

"Maybe," she says, licking her lips. "Anything I say or do may be used against me, is that correct?"

"Yes," he says, watching her intently as she sits up.

"Will this be used against me?" she asks, hooking her handcuffed hands behind his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He groans, falling into her and thus making them both fall into the bed. He doesn't seem to mind, shifting them both further onto the bed and lifting her leg to rest across his buttocks. She can feel him hard against her stomach, and she presses herself against him in a way that makes him groan and moan at the same time.

"That I will definitely use against you," he murmurs, catching her lips in a demanding kiss before she has time to counter. His hands stroke her sides, his thumb occasionally brushing her nipple or tracing the curve of her breasts. She would very much enjoy running her hands over his chest as well, but she has no intention of moving her hands from behind his neck since then he might get ideas about cuffing her to the headboard.

She gives him other ideas instead, parting her lips against his and brushing her tongue against his. He seems to get the point, kissing her back with equal fervor while his hands slide down to her hips. She can feel him position himself, and makes encouraging moans into the kiss.

He sighs her name with something akin to bliss as he pushes into her, a slow thrust until he's hard and deep inside her. As always, it feels like a joining, coming together physically just like they have emotionally. He has her heart, and now he has her body, as she has his. Snow and Charming, together, joined, one.

She kisses him thoroughly while he thrusts slowly and steadily, his hands roaming her skin lazily. The slow pace is wonderful, pleasure rising like a slow tide, but it is also a great, great challenge to her natural impatience. She wants, she wants, she wants Charming, she wants now, and she clenches her muscles around him.

He growls softly, lifting them both up and leaving her to straddle him while he sits upright. She presses her forehead against him, panting as he picks up the pace considerably, rocking slightly on him and feeling jolts of pleasure each time.

"Snow," he gasps, breathlessly and possessively at the same time, and she kisses him. He makes that noise she knows so well and loves so well, the noise he makes when he's that close to losing it.

She rocks back and forth on him a few more times, feeling her own body quite close as well. He can tell, she knows, stubbornly pausing his movements and staying quite still, and very hard inside her. She can feel him lowering his hand between them and rubbing his fingers against her, and yes, oh yes.

But she gets her own, lifting herself up and lowering herself on him again, making his eyes roll slightly and then his hips jerk and he comes with a gasp of her name into the kiss. The friction is enough to make her follow as well, and they collapse in a tangle of limbs on the bed.

She can feel Charming breathing heavily against her shoulder, before lifting his head and kissing her blazing cheeks, then her lips. Gently, he unhooks her hands from behind his neck before getting up. She watches him through lowered eyelids as he picks up his pants, retrieving the key before returning to unlock the handcuffs fully this time. He kisses each wrist tenderly before putting the handcuffs on the nightstand, and tucking the blanket around them both.

"I'm sorry," he says sheepishly, as she takes the opportunity to let her hands roam his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin under her palms. "For the... What I said earlier about forbidding you. I know I have no right to forbid you anything, Snow. I just..."

He draws a long, shuddering breath.

"I know," she says softly. "I feel the same when you're in danger. I'm sorry too."

He nods slowly, watching her as she moves to straddle him, cupping his head in her hands.

"I'm not sorry about the rest, though," she says, and he grins slightly. "That was fun."

"Mmm," he murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment while she leans down to kiss him.

It is all the distraction she needs. She is quite nimble, after all, and before he's even had time to realize what's happening, she has lifted his hands to the headboard and cuffed him to it with the same handcuffs he used on her.

He makes an indignant sound into the kiss, but then a moan too, as she grinds a little against him.

"Snow," he tries, and she bites his nose lightly. "Did you just handcuff Storybrooke's sheriff to the headboard?"

"Yes. I am a bandit, after all," she says cheekily.

"I got a confession out of you after all," he counters, and she lowers her head to steal a kiss. "Bandit, by your own words."

"You did," she agrees. "I confess all, sheriff Charming. I recklessly endangered my own life to save yours and will do so again no matter how many times you protest it or handcuff me. I am a bandit. Your bandit. I love you."

He kisses her, humming happily into the kiss as she caresses her cheek and the scar on his chin with her thumb. In this moment, he feels wonderfully, wonderfully hers, and she knows she will never regret risking her own life to save his, no matter what. Just as he would never regret risking his life to save hers.

Which reminds her...

She pulls away, ignoring Charming's noise of protest and rather sad look as she breaks the kiss.

"Now, sheriff Charming – got anything to confess?" she asks, giving him a wicked smile.

He does, as it turns out.

After a quite long and quite, quite fun interrogation, of course.

FIN