A/N: The psychological torture chapter! For all those fans who enjoy mental battles and convoluted interrogation tactics, here's the chappy for you! I also wanted to warn all of you, as the story progresses, the chapters will get longer. Not that any of you will mind, I'm sure.

Thanks for all the favorites, reviews, alerts, and comments on this story! (Especially from the gang who haunts GlitterHunter Okaa-san's c-box.)

Review thanks to:

nekosoulreaper

tomato sauce

Friglit

Xiaahandrus

passionatewhatever

and Kiwiuchi!

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Recap:

"What was that?" He asked, couching down to face me.

"And what is this?" He said, grabbing my wrist and pulling my sleeve back enough to reveal a tattoo in kanji on it. I looked down and shook my head, hoping he would get the message that I wasn't saying a word.

Next thing I knew, he injected some sort of knock-out meds into my thigh and I was in la-la land for a long time, which, now that I have the power of hindsight, was a lot more pleasant than I thought la-la-land could be at the time.

Chapter Four: Of Good and Bad Cops, Part One

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"I do not interrogate… women." A deep, commanding, and quiet voice stated imperiously, the sound coming to my ears muffled by a steel door. Slowly, I became aware of my surroundings as the numbing effects of the drug wore off. I began a systematic check of my body and assessed any damage I could find without moving.

"Oh, what the hell? Haven't you heard that chivalry is dead, Itachi-san?" I heard Hidan ask cynically. My mind finally put two and two together. I was in an interrogation room of sorts, and my proposed interrogator was, if I assumed correctly, Uchiha Itachi. Fun, fun, fun.

"If you are averse to interrogating women on the basis that they are weaker, mentally or physically, I'll bet that you'll have a challenge proving that theory on the new captive." Kakuzu said matter-of-factly, which would have, on any other day, had me basking in the glow of his complement, had Itachi not been in the equation.

My check for damages was complete, and I sported a few cracked ribs, a damaged trachea, a bruised wrist, and a sore tailbone. Plus all previous injuries were almost gone, leaving stiffness in my neck muscles like no one's business. A massage would have helped, but I supposed asking for a massage in the middle of my interrogation would blow over like a fart in a gale of wind. Maybe it would serve to fluster Itachi! I stored that idea in my arsenal of distractions, just in case.

"Okay, if Itachi-san is doing the questioning, why are we here, yeah?" A slightly adolescent voice interjected, sounding mildly annoyed. There was a follow-up grunt, which I assumed was the grunt of whoever else was with the young man.

"Well, Kakuzu came up with a retarded plan. First, he was going to have that bastard" no doubt about it, Hidan was getting a glare that would have the devil quaking in his britches from Itachi, "go in and scare the living shit outta the little bitch, and then you idiots go in and make all fucking nice and stuff, getting the info that Kakuzu, and Leader-Sama, wants." I was close to giggling my head off. They were, in effect, trying to use the 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' scenario on me. Backwards. What kind of idiot doesn't know the 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' routine?

"Fine." Itachi sighed, sounding particularly unhappy about this idea. Not that I blame him, I'm a terror to interrogate. That is when a thought struck me. It was obvious that Itachi doesn't find this sort of thing palatable, so maybe I could play up that note a little! I craftily formulated a plan of action.

"Her name is Shakkin Satsu. She is a surveillance and reconnaissance Nin, A-ranked and missing from Suna. She has a sealing kanji tattoo on her right forearm she refuses to tell me about. She is a genjutsu specialist, especially in the area of personal transformations. Also, she slipped up and mentioned something about being my age." Kakuzu listed to Itachi everything he knew about me in an orderly and mannerly list, but his voice betrayed some annoyance in his delivery. I wondered why, but then again, who knew? He seemed perpetually irritated by something or another.

"Your age? Wait, how old are you, anyway?" a gravelly and previously unheard voice asked incredulously. At least they didn't ask me my age! Seriously, asking me my age would put anybody on my shit-list for eternity. There was a stony silence for a few moments on the other side of my cell door, until Kakuzu finally answered.

"Seventy-five." I heard sniggering and a loud thump, followed by an "ouch" from the unidentified young man.

"Keep these imbeciles quiet Kakuzu." Itachi said flatly as he opened my cell door. As he swept gracefully into the room, I sat up straight and tall in my chair as if I had a spine of iron. Who knows, maybe I was convincing enough to fool the sharingan with feigned nerve? It was certainly worth risking, in my opinion. Any point I could get on the Uchiha would help my plan.

"As a man of passive character, I'm assuming that you find interrogating me rather, ehm, distasteful." I said, expertly controlling my heart rate and even managing to look him in the eyes.

"I like guys like you, so here's my take on this state of affairs: I'll tell you whatever you think you need to know, so long as you let Dumb and Dumber in here next without saying a word about my forthrightness, so I can have a little fun!" I laughed, throwing my arms behind my head. I intentionally left myself open, hoping to send the subconscious message that I meant no harm, and threw in the message that I believed he wouldn't betray my immediate trust. After all, why not use body language to my advantage? The perception of body language makes up seventy-five percent of human communication anyway.

"I'm sure you are just as appalled as I am at their misconception of the 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' technique, seriously." I lowered my arms to the table in front of me, folding my hands in a businesslike manner. I stared intently into his spinning black and crimson eyes with more courage than I thought I could muster. A strange, unreadable expression passed over his face for a moment, and he deemed himself the right to sit across the table from me.

If anything in the entire world impressed me, it was Itachi's skill in mental battle. By sitting on the other side of the table, he was trying to lead me into a false sense of familiarity. Clever, but, he revealed his knowledge of my body actions. I deemed it time to use another tactic, should the need for persuasion arise.

"Summon whatever is sealed in your tattoo." He ordered. I did so happily, glad he thought well of my plan. No, Itachi didn't exactly tell me that he liked my plan, but something about him seemed, I dunno, impressed by me? No, something else that I can't place. I suppose that doesn't matter, really. I guess you could say I picked up a good vibe from him.

A small 'poof' and some brownish, musty smog accompanied the appearance of my very, very old scroll. My heart fluttered. I was only supposed to summon this scroll three times in my life. Oh well, I hope my mentor's spirit doesn't haunt me for breaking the unwritten taboo. Now, being immortal and having him up my ass would suck!

"Fifty-eight years ago, I was told to sign this scroll in blood and accept an apprenticeship from a man named Samejima Sanosuke, of Takigakure. He was the creator of what Nin now call 'The Bingo Book.'" I said, unrolling the scroll and pointing to my signature in muddy vermillion on the yellowed parchment.

"I know the name." Itachi muttered darkly, pondering. Or at least, I was pretty sure he was pondering. He pointed to my teacher's signature, right above mine.

"His is not in blood." He noted, looking into my eyes, almost daring to challenge his observation and lie to him. The Uchiha may think I had a death wish to try and fulfill, but I didn't feel like testing the waters against Tsukiomi.

"Correct. This scroll has a peculiar effect on its owners, you see. But as the creator of the sealing scroll, he was exempt." I looked down, and moved my pale finger to the third signature on the paper, also mine.

"This one was made fifty-three years ago, when my Sensei passed the duty of information gathering on to me in full." I said, smiling softly as I absentmindedly rubbed my scarred thumb over with my forefinger, feeling the familiar lump of my tissue created when I had broken the skin to sign.

"The strange effects of the scroll applied to me, however, and until a student of my choice signs this scroll the second time at the age of twenty, after his first signing and five years of training, I'm frozen in time, perpetually twenty." I petered down to a whisper, trying to pull in the 'Pity the Weak, Foolish Girl' card by sounding regretful of my optional indefinite lifestyle.

"Frozen. You mean to say immortal." Itachi deadpanned, all emotional pleas flying over his head. I found it funny for a moment that Itachi never really asked questions, but instead made statements and compelled me to elaborate on them with sheer force of will and a well-placed glare. I suppose being damn close to an omnipotent being and a friggin' legend does that for a person's powers of intimidation.

"Fair enough. Thank you." Itachi said gruffly as he stood swiftly, his chair scraping the cement floor loudly. As he walked to wards the door, he stopped.

"Look weary, or fearful." He commanded lightly without looking over his shoulder, and I was not wont to ignore him. I'm sure he had his reasons. He had to save his pride from a conniving little konoichi somehow, I suppose. I couldn't help but giggle for a second as I willed my limbs to droop and eyes to shadow over. He paused again, his hand on the handle of the steel door.

"I'm watching." He said darkly, turning his face three quarters towards me. My initial reaction was to be afraid of him, but then I caught the glint in his eyes, a sparkle of mischief. He was going to watch me give the other two shit, he meant. And I sure as hell didn't want to disappoint him. It was in that moment I realized that Itachi was just the sort of guy I enjoyed being around. Maybe even an ideal friend for me, I dunno. If I stayed around long enough, he wouldn't be bad to hang around at least.

As Itachi left the room, I got a glimpse of the group of people outside of it, at a table playing cards. A young, blonde, androgynous guy stood up as well as a large, bulky blue-skinned guy with gills and a large cloth wrapped thing on his back.

Iwagakure no Deidara and Kirigakure no Hosigaki Kisame. This was going to be fun!