Title: Going Fishing
Fandom: Guardian (TV)
Rating: G-rated
Length: 1,180 words
Notes: A missing scene for the Missing challenge. Set during the interrogation in ep 4. A million thanks to trobadora for beta, and to the Slo-Mo Rewatch on sid_guardian for the prompt.
Tags: Missing Scene, Episode 4, Da Qing interrogates Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan POV, Cat Tribe Best Tribe
Summary: During the SID’s interrogation of Shen Wei, in episode 4, Zhao Yunlan sends Da Qing in to take a turn.





Zhao Yunlan couldn’t help laughing as Zhu Hong flounced out of the interview room, nettled by Shen Wei’s well-aimed barbs. Couldn’t help wanting to crow, “Round one to Professor Shen!” But for all his appreciation, the facts were these: 1) this was a grim case, and 2) Shen Wei’s presence at crime scene after crime scene couldn’t be mere coincidence.

The professor knew about Dixingren. Apparently he was well-versed in Yashou lore, too—openly, shamelessly, using his knowledge as a weapon.

Zhu Hong stomped into the observation room, dropped into a desk chair and folded her arms with a huff. “Why don’t we just hand him over to Hei Pao Shi for judgement?”

“He was right about the evidence,” countered Lin Jing. “He can’t be our perpetrator.”

“And as far as we know, Professor Shen is human,” added Da Qing. “You can’t go around sending anyone who annoys you to Dixing.”

Zhao Yunlan held his tongue. They were both right: technically, the SID had no proof Shen Wei wasn’t the innocent, ordinary professor that he seemed. Even though his position and his attitude didn’t line up. Even though Shen Wei had walked away from a potentially fatal fall and survived Wang Yike’s attack. It was possible, after all, that Shen Wei was just freakishly lucky. But far, far more likely, something else was up, and Zhao Yunlan needed to get to the bottom of it for his own peace of mind, so he could focus on the damned case. He needed to know if his instinct to trust Shen Wei was justified.

He drummed his fingers on his knee. “Your turn, Damn Cat. See what you can make of him.”

Da Qing raised his eyebrows, and fair enough. He probably hadn’t interrogated a suspect in his entire tenure at the SID. But he obediently jumped down from the shelf along the window and went next door, where he claimed the recently vacated chair and propped his chin in his hands.

“Professor Shen, why are you treating the SID like a piece of string to be toyed with?”

Da Qing’s white button-down shirt drew the eye, but Zhao Yunlan kept his focus steadfastly on Shen Wei. It paid off. He caught the faintest flicker of a smile—not triumph like Shen Wei had shown Zhu Hong, but fondness. Familiarity? Did Shen Wei know Da Qing?

When had they met before? When Da Qing was in cat form at the university, and again, perhaps, briefly, when he’d been guarding the door while Zhao Yunlan had interviewed Li Qian. Heaven only knew if Shen Wei had connected the two appearances. And other than that—? Da Qing hadn’t stuck around at the hospital when Shen Wei visited Li Qian. They hadn’t spoken at Li Yufen’s memorial. There was nothing to explain the softening of Shen Wei’s mouth and around his eyes.

Of course, Da Qing had forgotten more than he knew. Maybe they’d been acquainted years ago, when Shen Wei was a kid. But if that were the case, why not just say so outright?

“Have you considered that your string analogy does your team a disservice? You are neither an inanimate toy, nor prey,” said Shen Wei, lightly. He was sitting back a little, not leaning in for an attack.

Da Qing shrugged easily. “They can’t complain to me—I’m too venerable. Don’t you know I’m the ten-thousand-year-old king of the cats?”

Like every other strange thing about the SID, Shen Wei took this in stride. “Ten thousand years,” he repeated. “In that case, Your Majesty, you must surely remember the ancient war?”

He said it with an indefinable significance that made Zhao Yunlan want to move forward and press against the glass. Made him sure that this question, like Shen Wei himself, was in disguise, concealing a deep hunger. And what was Shen Wei hungry for? Why did he want to know about some prehistoric conflict? Until now his flashes of intensity had been reserved for Zhao Yunlan. Zhao Yunlan had concluded there must be an obvious, mundane, personal explanation for them. He’d been starting to hope that was it. But here Shen Wei was attending to Da Qing with, if not the exact same curiosity, something in the same ballpark.

“I remember that it happened,” said Da Qing, vaguely. “Outlines. It was a very long time ago.”

“I understand that, back then, cats were sent on intelligence-gathering missions. It seems not much has changed?” Shen Wei gestured to the space between them. He didn’t look sideways at the one-way mirror, but Zhao Yunlan was sure he knew he had an audience.

Shen Wei wasn’t needling Da Qing like he had with Zhu Hong. His question seemed more a prompt, like something he’d say to a forgetful student. But Da Qing jabbed a finger at him anyway. “I thought you were a scientist, not a historian.”

“I read widely.” Shen Wei’s expression smoothed out into blandness.

“If you like to read,” said Da Qing, “then why aren’t you at home, curled up with a book tonight?”

“Why aren’t you at home, tucking into a plate of fish?” countered Shen Wei.

“Fish?” Da Qing’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of fish?”

Zhao Yunlan’s lips twitched in rueful defeat. He jerked his chin at the dark figure lounging in the doorway. “Lao-Chu, get Damn Cat out of there before he deserts us for a handful of haddock.”

“And then?” Lao-Chu pushed off the doorframe. His doll was tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“And then—you know what to do.” Maybe Shen Wei’s savoir faire had nothing to do with the cases; he could just be naturally self-possessed to an incredible, possibly supernatural degree. Here was a chance to find out. Because the SID possessed the best test of nerves known to humankind, in the form of one stern and grumpy Dixingren field agent.

Zhao Yunlan’s focus returned to Shen Wei through the one-way glass, sitting there cool as a cucumber, listing various seafood-based recipes to Zhao Yunlan’s deputy. He was so calmly personable, it was impossible not to like him—especially since he was bonding with Zhao Yunlan’s cat, even offering to cook for him sometime!

Lao-Chu stalked into the interview room and tapped Da Qing on the shoulder. Da Qing was so busy salivating he swatted Lao-Chu away without looking—and Zhao Yunlan couldn’t even blame him. Some of those dishes sounded delicious enough that his own neglected stomach was starting to rumble.

Apparently Shen Wei didn’t only use his knowledge to infuriate his opponents; he could also—not to put too fine a point on it—seduce. The thought sent a prickle of anticipation across Zhao Yunlan’s skin.

Luckily, Lao-Chu was a stubborn bastard, immune to insults and lures alike. He ousted Da Qing—to whom Shen Wei smiled a warm farewell—and claimed the interrogator’s seat, barely acknowledging the professor’s presence at all.

Zhao Yunlan sat back again, his eyes glued to the scene. You might be good with cats, Shen Wei, but let’s see how you handle this.


END