Matthew lets out a sigh, looking up at his coworker as he slaps down another piece of paperwork, before smiling apologetically. The other man shrugs his shoulders and then breaks out into a full grin.

"Hey, it's not my fault you catch all the bad guys," He says with a wink, his blue eyes catching the light in such a way that makes Matthew miss the ocean.

"Yeah, remind me that next time we're chasing someone…" He mumbles, leaning his head onto the desk in front of him. His brother, Alfred, laughs and shakes his head. He's just about to walk away before he turns back and grins.

"Oh! And, by the way, there's someone waiting for you in the interrogation room," Alfred backs away, calling out to him as he does. "Some robber, I think. Boss wants you on the case, even though I booked 'im." He pouts, and there's something in Alfred's expression that makes Matthew think there's something he's not telling him. Growing up with the mischievous younger brother made things like this easier to spot.

"Who is it?"

"You'll have to go and see." Alfred responds, shooting two finger guns at him before turning around and heading back to his own work station. Matthew groans, taking a moment to look over at a picture on his desk. The red eyes and white hair stares back at him and he smiles, reaching over to straighten the frame with a longing sigh. He runs his finger over the matching suits the two pictured wore, then glances at the ring on his finger with a frown. He hadn't been home it what felt like weeks. And even when he was home, his husband, Gilbert, never was either - or, they were both home, but too exhausted to do anything together. Even just watch their shows (Gilbert usually settled on Project Runway, but would never admit to actually liking the show, while Matthew enjoyed the cooking shows - but they always ended up falling asleep in front of them).

Sitting up in his desk, he yawns and glances at the paperwork, running a hand through his messy hair. It would probably take hours to get all of that done. Maybe he could convince Alfred to help him so they could both get home early. And then maybe he would take a week or two off just to relax.

So he stands, taking the file for the interrogation room number 2, and walks down there. It'd be nice, he thinks, to relax with Gilbert for even just a night. Closing his eyes as he walks the way down to the interrogation room, he imagines Gilbert's hands stroking his hair, Gilbert maybe feeding him some chocolates, Gilbert's strong arms holding him close as they "reluctantly" watch Project Runway, Gilbert's insane but somehow endearing laugh-

Opening the door to the interrogation room, he doesn't have to imagine the laugh or the strong arms anymore as a familiar patch of white hair enters his vision. And, sure enough, the red eyes follow. Matthew's happy expression drops, and he stares at his husband, sitting handcuffed to the table with a frown on his face. He doesn't notice Matthew at first, but when he does, he jumps in his seat and grins at him, eyes wide and trying to convince him everything's fine!

"Heyyyy, babe!" Gilbert drawls, sitting up in his chair as much as the handcuffs allow. "How're you doing today? You know, you-ah, you look great, that uniform is so nice on you. Have you lost weight? You look so great, babe, liebe-"

"What did you do, Gilbert," Matthew deadpans, no expression on his face as he closes the door and falls into the seat across from the albino. Gil clears his throat and chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's, a, uh, a funny story actually-"
"Then humor me." Matthew says, starting to frown and Gilbert rushes to fill in the silence that follows, desperately hoping is husband wasn't completely mad at him. It was an honest mistake!

"Well…" Gil starts, drumming his fingers on the table as he tries to figure out where to start. "I was walking on fifth avenue - going to get some flowers, if I can add that, just put that in your report, I was going to be a good husband and get you some flow-"

"Gilbert."

"Right." He winces, folding his hands on the table and looking at Matthew. "Okay. I was walking on fifth when all of a sudden this guy runs past me. I don't really understand what's happening at first but this lady's purse is in my hands, the guy's already like two fuckin' blocks ahead of me, and I just know something's wrong." Matthew sighs slightly, shaking his head as he looks down at the file. He wasn't lying, he could tell. Plus it sounded like a story Gilbert would have happen to him. Leave it to his husband to get arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Why didn't you try to give the purse back?" Matthew asks, pulling out a pen to take notes. He could tell this interrogation wouldn't take very long.

"Well," Gilbert hesitates and licks his lips - Matthew actually has to restrain himself from kissing him at that - before he shrugs. "I knew you'd been busy, so, I… kind of ran after the guy. I wanted you home early so I thought I would help and apprehend the criminal. Didn't exactly go as planned." He explains with a sheepish smile, and Matthew's heart skips a beat. Gilbert missed him too. He doesn't really know why this astonishes him, but just the fact that Gilbert was thinking of him, wishing he were home, wanting him to be done with work so badly that he risked his life to help an old lady with her stolen purse takes his breath away. Gilbert, his sweet, thoughtful, perhaps too reckless husband, ran away with an old woman's purse so that he could try and catch a criminal. What an idiot.

"So you just... took off?" Matthew asks, leaning back in the chair and raising his eyebrow. His voice was low and disbelieving, and Gilbert allowed himself to smile sheepishly.

"Well…" He starts, reaching up to rub the back of his snowy hair but stops short as the handcuffs catch and keep them a few inches off the table. "yeah. But I was going after the robber, so-"

"With the woman's purse still in your hands?" Matthew tries to keep the smile off his face, but can't help it. He wants to laugh at his husband's stupidity, but has to remind himself that he was trying. Trying to be brave, trying to save the day, trying to be like him. But everytime Gilbert tries something new, well…

"I didn't-" The albino starts, then stops. "Well, sure, but-" He tries again. "Okay, but here's the thing-" He continues, but Matthew cuts him off.

"Ah, ah, ah. I believe that was a confession I heard." Gilbert stares at him in disbelief, red eyes growing wider as he realizes there's a knowing smirk on Matthew's face.

"Wait, no, Matt-" He pleads, putting his hands together somewhat crookedly, as that's all the handcuffs will allow. "You can't put me in prison! I won't survive more than a day! I'll be somebody's bitch two seconds in and-" Matthew's laughter cuts his begging short.

"No, no, not prison."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Gilbert leans back in his chair, smiling happily. "Then you can uncuff me, right?"

"Hm," Matthew clears his throat, before shrugging. "sure." He reaches over, and uncuffs him, but only to allow his hands out of the ones attached to the table, before he slips another pair onto his wrists and starts pulling him out of the interrogation room. Gilbert squeaks in surprise, frowning up at his husband.

"Matt-!"

"I said not prison. I didn't say not a night in the holding cells." Matthew's grin is cruel, conniving as he hands him over to the officer by the cells, crossing his arms behind his back. Gilbert watches as the officer hauls him behind the bars, takes off the cuffs, and then shuts the door, locking it with a small smirk. He was enjoying this. Matthew was enjoying this. Hell, he bet the entire police department was enjoying the fact that he was just arrested - and by his husband's brother, no less. The albino looks up at the blonde he once thought was innocent and loving and caring, disbelief and fear are etched on his face and, okay, maybe he's a little bit turned on, but as he grips the bars in front of him tightly, watching as Matthew takes a step forward to talk to him, he thinks that maybe Matthew's not entirely living up to the knitting and reading he does at home.

"You'll be let out in the morning. I'll bring you breakfast." He says simply, hands behind his back as he tries to keep himself from smirking. It isn't working, Gilbert thinks.

"You're so mean to me," Gilbert whines, pouting his lips in his best attempt to give Matthew a puppy-dog look. It isn't working, Matthew thinks.

"Yeah, well, you were pretty mean to that lady you stole a purse from." Gilbert scoffs, lightly shaking the bars.

"I didn't steal-!" Matthew takes a quick look around the station before leaning in and silencing him with a kiss, faces pressed against the bars in an attempt to get closer. Gilbert melts into it, and almost forgives him for putting him in jail. Almost.

Quickly, too quickly, Matthew pulls away and stands up straight, clearing his throat.

"See you in the morning, purse snatcher."

He walks away and Gilbert's only solace is watching his ass in his uniform as he does.

At least the cell had a nice view.

Later that night, in the paperwork labeled, Beilschmidt, Gilbert, he writes four words in bold under reason for arrest:

My husband's an idiot.

Side note: Gilbert was totally not let out earlier to receive "I'm-sorry" blowjobs in the bathroom of the station or anything. Totally not at all.