#𝐯. 𝐬𝐩𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡. ——— lucas north.

[lindscys]

for @spynorth because i said so

"leave." the word came quickly, with force and no remorse. green eyes barely lifted at the sight of lucas, blood still boiling in light of recent events. "i told you, i don't want to talk to you." and she meant it. if there was one thing she'd managed to inherit from her mother, it was the ability to hold a grudge.

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"i'm not some damsel in distress that needs some help. you can leave me alone."

[mastermicd-arch]

@spynorth​​​ ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

this wasn’t the way that he liked to work, by any means. hotch preferred to keep things in house –– he had enough issues with members of local law enforcement in his own country, let alone navigating the waters of an agency from elsewhere. but they were united by a common goal, and he’d have to trust that. “how much have you been told?” he asked, opening the file that at this point, was rarely out of his hands. “because from what i hear, you might just be the person to help us.”

[bannannie]

𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬   →   accepting.

@spynorth : ❛ you’re being followed ,  pretend you know me . ❜

fuck. annie didn't recognise the voice behind the words, and her steps stopped as she considered what she was meant to do. could she really just believe someone who told her that she was being followed? it wouldn't be the first time that she'd have been heading straight into some sort of a trap, if that was in fact what was happening here. but then again, how often did she get to say that someone helped her out of a situation like this? between a couple of robbed stores and the pile of fake money waiting to be washed at her sisters job, there was plenty of reason why someone might be following her. but there also was reason to think that someone might lie about it to get her into a pickle.

worse things had happened to her. "i need to get laundry detergent." perhaps not the most subtle of conversation starters, but it was hardly the sort of comment one might make to someone that they didn't know. "did you pick up the wine for dinner?" she asked, eyes darting either side of her, scoping out who might be lingering, who might be listening. voice hushed, she asked, "who's following me? and who are you?"

[lindscys]

even despite the ringing in her head following recent events, the detective was able to muster up a roll of her eyes at the attempt of a joke, though quietly took some comfort in it. if he was joking, he couldn't be in that bad shape. it wasn't much, but at least it was something to take into account. it was better than the worst case scenario that had likely crossed the minds of others, even if it hadn't had a chance to get to them. "molly's it is." the detective confirmed with a quick nod of her head, the bar having become a place of comfort for not just her, but others in the team. it was a safe haven, even if it hadn't meant to be at it's outset. it sounded like a good idea, at least for the time being. being anywhere else might have just made her feel worse. "let's go." she danced around the comment about voight –– it was easier that way. delving into the complicated relationship that she had with her sergeant wasn't something that she particularly wanted to get into with lucas if she could help it. "i'm good to drive." an exaggeration most likely, but she often found herself uncomfortable when she wasn't behind the wheel. control. it was a craving she grappled with more often than she liked to admit. "i'll get the briefing tomorrow." she confirmed as eyes quickly glanced to voight, then back to the agent. perhaps walking away today wouldn't be a bad thing.

“I’ll live. Unfortunately.” The answer is a huff of breath, an attempted jest that rumbles its way between them, chased by the quirk of a brow. There’s a ghost of a grin perched at the corner of his mouth, a flash of something that’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and the agent gives a quick shake of his head as if to rid sweat dampened hair of any dirt or other debris. Other officers move around them like scavengers, checking bodies and looking for wounded, and Lucas watches with a careful eye. Erin’s team (never his. he’s just a visitor, after all. a ghost haunting chicago just as easily as it had london) are a different breed and he has no wish to listen to some half-hearted speech by the man in charge about failed operations and next plan of action.

“What about that pub you’re always on about?” That smile is a bit more apparent now and he shifts his weight, all tense muscle that balances on the balls of his feet as if desperate for some reason to be anywhere other than the warehouse they currently stand in. Ocean eyes flicker towards the team’s illustrious leader, watch for the briefest of seconds as Voight talks to Antonio, words hushed (astounding, really) as if no one else is meant to hear, before returning to study Erin’s expression. “Unless you’d rather stay and listen to one of daddy’s lectures. I’d hate to get in the way of that.”

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"didn't you ever tell yourself that you would do whatever you had to in order to make your dreams come true?"

[lindscys]

@spynorth​​ ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

london was a world away from what she was used to. she'd always found comfort in chicago, a city she'd lived in her whole life, and hadn't ever really ventured out too far, at least not for very long. even then, those trips had always had a purpose. this time was no different, except she was a lot further away from home than she had ever been before. hands dove into the pockets of her jeans as she walked along crowded streets, just another individual battling the london rush hour to anyone that she walked past. they didn't know just how far she'd come to be here. head lifted at the sight of her destination, diving into the cafe without much hesitation. hand reached for her beanie, pulling it carefully off of her head as her eyes scanned the room. "miss me?" she asked, approaching lucas's table. "figured it was about time i came to your turf."

[lindscys]

𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧   →   accepting.

@spynorth : ❛ i won’t be a victim. ❜

erin's eyes narrowed, a look of confusion dancing across her face at the insinuation that she might even think that of him. "nobody is asking you to be a victim, north." she was always quick to hold her own, but sometimes there was a time to be a little more soft. perhaps, this was one of those times. "but you're allowed to be unhappy when shitty things happen to you. you can own that, and try and resolve it, without being a victim." arms folded across her chest, back leaning against the desk behind her as she looked him over once again. "so let me have your back."

[mastermicd-arch]

@spynorth​​​ ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

she’d recognise that face anywhere. but as quickly as she’d recognised the face, her body stiffened, mind flooded with memories. she’d be damned if she left her exterior slip, having long since become an expert at holding herself together. working in washington dc would do that to a person. 

heels clacked against the pavement while her head remained high. it didn’t matter what abby was doing, it usually came with more poise than most. “you can’t be here.” she barely made eye contact with him as she spoke, digging through her purse for her phone. “you have to leave. now.”

[lindscys]

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 “ 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮! “ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤.   →   accepting.

@spynorth​ : ❛  i’ve got you!  ❜

the arms around her she should have expected –– erin hadn’t been thinking straight, not on this case. she was determined, running into the heart of the danger in a bid to get the best outcome that she could. she’d been blinded by the fact that she could see herself in the latest string of victims, and she’d be damned if she saw another one end up the same way. but an ambush hadn’t even crossed her mind. if it weren’t for lucas pulling her away, bodies falling to the ground in a protective embrace, she might not have registered it at all. she might have ended up dead. “i need to ––” she tried to fight back, unable to pull herself away, “–– let me go! we can’t leave them!” 

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"couldn't you just –– tell me about london or something instead? it's far more interesting."

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"this place is my client, whether i want it to be or not. you need to respect that, and know that some things i can't discuss."

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"i had nothing to say to the other guy, i've got nothing to say to you either. sending someone else doesn't magically make people open up more, or is this just the tactic you guys try?"

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"whiskey, tango, foxtrot." jessica spoke the words with certainty, her handler having told her she was to meet with an agent from elsewhere, and cite those words. instead, panic swept over her that she might have approached the wrong person, and sounded like a bizarre alien in the process. "stupid me, must have the wrong person. have a good night!"

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"everyone has secrets. i bet you've got loads. go on, give me a juicy one."

[mambosfive]

@spynorth ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

as if her job wasn't stressful enough as it was, the last thing rita needed was the past coming back to bite her in the ass. at least, that was her first thought as she caught sight of the familiar face across the pavement.

her trip to london was only due to last a couple of days, and she hadn't seen said face in years –– much less in london. so really, what were the chances of this happening at all? she'd made a lot of choices back then, ones that had made her as powerful as she was today. that didn't mean that she lived completely free of regret though –– and that was an emotion that rita preferred not to acknowledge. ignoring the past, and the faces that came with it, was a big part of that.

with gentle breeze blowing through the front of her hair, rita was torn. torn between pretending she didn't know him entirely and hoping that it worked, or employ a method she'd used more times in her life than she liked to admit: the good old fake it until you make it. the longer she dwelled on it, the harder it was to decide –– only to be forced into the latter, plastering a false smile on her face as she quietly hoped his memory was far worse than hers.