Author Note- I own nothing from Marvel or ABC.
Ward brought the suspect into the interrogation room and shoved her roughly into the chair, secured the handcuffs and took a seat opposite her.
"You are going to tell me everything you know about Centipede. Right now," Ward said, thumping a case file for emphasis.
"I refuse to be interrogated by an underwear model," she replied.
"What?" Ward asked, incredulous.
"You heard me. You all don't even look like real people on this plane. Have you even seen other people's tech teams? Yours look like they could be modeling for American Apparel."
"I don't see what that has to do with. . . ." Ward began.
"Your computer expert looks like a pop singer; your pilot could be selling perfume on a billboard."
"Agent Coulson. . . .." Ward said.
"Is adorable," the suspect spat back. "You know, you could get hit with a class action lawsuit from all the unattractive people your team has refused to hire."
"What are you even talking about?" Ward asked.
"I mean how do you guys get any undercover work done? You look like someone who should be constantly stalked by paparazzi," said the suspect.
Ward gritted his teeth. "Look, this distraction isn't going to work. You need to provide us with answers and you need to do it now."
"Or what?"
"We can make it very unpleasant for you," Ward ground out, leaning over the table, staring the subject in the eyes.
"Exactly how unpleasant? Be specific," the suspect spat back.
"What?" Ward asked. He had the distinct impression that somehow he had lost and he wasn't quite sure when it happened.
"Are you going to, let's say, cut off my finger?" the suspect asked.
"No," Ward said, a bit disgusted.
"'Cause that's what Centipede does. Before they even bother with the first question. That's how they open. Since I am still in possession of all ten beautiful digits, I wager you are not as unpleasant as Centipede is. Actually, there you go; here's your first piece of classified intel. If you run across a group of nine-fingered baddies, you'll know that Centipede got to them first."
Ward threw up his hands. He was done. He grabbed the file and stalked out of the room.
"Here, your turn," he said to May who was waiting in the lounge and went off to the makeshift gym to punch away his anger and frustration.
May smiled and perused the file. She knew exactly how to more unpleasant than Centipede.