#Agent OA zidan

[sabrinajenre96]

OA Zidan x reader:

WARNING: this story contains some flirting moments.

The SUV hummed with nervous energy. OA, his wife (Y/N), and their best friend Maggie were on a stakeout, the tension of the case thick enough to cut with a knife. Their daughter, six-year-old Lily, was thankfully at Maggie’s parents’ house, blissfully unaware of the dangerous game her parents played. The target: a seemingly innocuous Italian restaurant, rumored to be a hub for some very shady dealings.

“So,” Maggie drawled, breaking the silence, “who’s drawing the short straw and going in?”

OA glanced between his wife and his best friend. “Ladies first,” he offered, a playful glint in his eyes.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Please. I’m not risking my perfectly good heels on a reconnaissance mission. Besides,” she added, eyeing the restaurant’s discreet entrance, “you’re the one who can blend in best. You’ve got that whole ‘ruggedly handsome, slightly intimidating’ thing going on.”

OA chuckled. “You think so, huh?” He flexed his bicep playfully, earning an eye roll from Maggie.

“Oh, please,” Maggie said. “You two are insufferable.”

The debate continued, punctuated by nervous glances at the restaurant. Finally, OA dramatically sighed. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it.” He looked around. “But I’m going to need a disguise.”

“You mean like a hat or something?” (Y/N) asked.

OA grinned. “Something like that.” He reached for the hem of his t-shirt and, with a swift tug, pulled it over his head. He was now sporting a simple black tank top.

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped. “What the— OA! What are you doing?”

Maggie burst out laughing. “Oh my god! You’re going in like that?”

OA shrugged, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Hey, it’s hot. And besides,” he winked at his wife, “it’s a good distraction. Who’s going to be paying attention to anything else?”

(Y/N) stared at him, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her eyes. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, but a smile played on her lips.

Maggie was still giggling. “Now I get it,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Now I understand how you two convinced Lily to eat her vegetables. It’s all about the strategic disrobing, isn’t it?”

OA chuckled, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. “Hey, whatever works,” he said, trying to maintain his composure. He knew his wife and best friend were just teasing him, but he couldn’t help the slight flush of embarrassment.

(Y/N) leaned closer, her voice a low purr. “You know,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “that tank top really does accentuate your… assets.”

OA’s blush deepened. “Okay, okay,” he stammered, “enough. I’m going in.” He grabbed a small earpiece from the console and shoved it in his ear. “Just… try not to die laughing while I’m gone.”

As he stepped out of the SUV and headed towards the restaurant, he could hear Maggie and (Y/N) still chuckling. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He loved his wife and his best friend, even when they were making him the subject of their jokes. He just hoped he could survive this mission without dying of embarrassment first. He knew one thing for sure, though: he was never going to live this down.

[thejanedoetoday]

Zeeko Zaki

[kboo1999]

I love OA, and he truly deserves soooo much better. They do him so dirty in the show.

[enigmatist17]

Okay

I'm not done talking about OA

S4 Ep 18, Fear Nothing is probably one of my favorite episodes with/about him and Maggie, who by the way I love her too <3

The way he already is on a live wire the second he hears sarin gas, and pushes the entire team to have the needles with them? Absolutely weak for a protective man like that.

The way he gets more and more tense until he and Maggie go into that lab, where his worst fear comes to life? Heartbreaking.

Does it matter in real life they would not been allowed to go in like that? Not really, they say FBI is hyped up on purpose, so I get that.

But let me tell you, the way she screams for him, and OA is losing his mind while somehow obeying orders (ie the doctor forcing him to get a mask before he saves her?), the way his voice breaks when he gets her to fresh air and uses the needle? The way you can see he's on the verge of a panic attack that could probably be felt all the way back at HQ?

Absolutely beautiful as it is heartbreaking.

The way he begs to see her in the hospital? The way he shows Jubal that he's so close to crying and not trying to bother hiding his sheer fear? The way the team sees OA for what he is right now, terrified for his partner and her unknown fate? The way he cries when he's comforting her/begging her to keep fighting and to come back to him? Spinning into the void </3

The way his entire face lights up when she returns a good few episodes later? Nearly dropping his coffee to hug her and feel the way she's alive and breathing? Fills the void that my soul constantly has by the suffering of my many fandom children.

I just love them okay? I am feral feral feral feral

[spencelle-secret]

this is actually what happened in this scene btw (real) (source: trust me i was behind them)

yeah, yeah, maggie's crush on isobel, we've all seen it

[penwieldingdreamer]

A Shot in the Dark ~ Prologue

Well, welcome to my latest obsession - FBI and OA Zidan. This is a crossover between FBI, FBI: Most Wanted & Blue Bloods. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in any future chapters.

I do not own any of the characters of the FBI Franchise and Blue Bloods, they belong to their respective owners

Summary It's said, you'll always meet twice in life. But you never thought it be in a hostage situation with a gun pressed against your head.

Warnings: hostage situation, canon typical violence, coarse language, smut in later chapters

The human mind is really the scariest thing of all.

Life in general is scary, and yet you step out of your home each day and face it. You imagine how a situation might turn out if you just changed one thing in your day to day life. Sometimes it’s the sandwich they didn’t have at the bakery and sometimes it’s the choice you make on the job.

“Andrew, drop the gun and let my sister go!” Detective Danny Reagan called, his own weapon trained on the former NYPD officer, voice shaking as he looked at you, seeing his own fear mirrored in your eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with this. You want me. Let the kids and her go.”

Shaking his head, former police officer Andrew O'Sullivan pushed the muzzle of his gun harder against your temple. "They are all the leverage I need to get you to do what I want."

"O'Sullivan! This is Agent Scott and Agent Bell with the FBI. Surrender your weapons and let the hostages go. We will make sure that your demands are met, but you need to let the kids and Miss Reagan go."

You could feel the tears running down your cheeks, but you knew you had to be strong for the children. Their parents put you in charge and you, as their teacher, needed to make sure they'd get out safe. “Please Mister O’Sullivan, you got me, let the children go home. They don’t have anything to do with this.”

Your heart was hammering in your throat watching your brother desperately trying to get Andrew to drop the weapon, the ground feeling like it was going to be pulled from underneath you. And here you thought it was going to be a good day today.

Five hours earlier, 9:15 Bluestone Lane Tribeca Café

"So, heard anything from tall, dark and handsome? You looked cute together."  

“Erin!”

“Mom! You’re embarrassing her.”

The lawyer grinned into her coffee mug as the three of you sat together for breakfast. "What!? I saw pictures from way back when. It's been more than four years now, just thought maybe you'd have a run in with him again."

"Nope, haven't seen him since before he started training at Quantico and you would know that. I'm practically living with dad and pop again after those idiots living above me wouldn't have smoked weed and forgot to shut off the water."

Nicky only rolled her eyes at her mother trying to play matchmaker – as always. “You should leave Y/N alone. Danny would have a field day if she came home with him.”

“Thank you, Nicky, I knew why you were my favorite niece.” You took a bite from your chocolate croissant. Usually you’d be getting the breakfast sandwich the café was famous for but today they were all out.

“I’m your only niece, so that’s not a hard feat to do.”

“Yet.” You pointed a finger at the younger woman. “And I don’t even know where he is. I’ll not be running after him and use dads resources to find him.”

“All I’m saying is that you should get laid, you can’t just stay a single workaholic forever." 

Sending your sister a disapproving look, you could see the disgust on your nieces face. She was old enough to be part of that conversation and already had one boyfriend, yet you knew she was absolutely embarrassed by her mother's choice of breakfast conversation.

"Mom! God! I'll be heading off to work or you'll start talking about dad and yourself." Nicky, so much like Erin grabbed her purse and to-go cup, leaned over to kiss her mother's cheek before she moved next to you. With her arm draped over your shoulder, she leaned in as if to whisper into your ear but still spoke at normal volume. "Don't let her bully you into looking him up. You do you, Auntie, but she's right, you need to get laid."

Slack jawed at her gall, you turned accusatory eyes on the lawyer. "That's definitely on you, Erin. You taught her to be like that."

"Well, she's definitely got that from me and she'd make a great lawyer like that."

Letting out a sigh, you leaned back in your chair.

Damn, they were right.

Quickly apologizing to God under your breath, you try to anchor yourself to your mug. It had been years since you had seen Omar. You had met him outside a bar in the Financial District, after a date had dumped her right before dessert, telling her she wasn’t worth his time.

“He’s a dick, he wasn’t going to know what to do with you anyway.”

You sat together at the bar and talked about random stuff – friends, hobbies, only things that wouldn’t compromise him as you later found out he was undercover for the DEA.

“You’re quiet, what are you thinking about?”

Blinking, you watched your sister with a small, wistful smile, something she had seen so often when you had gone out to have breakfast with Nicky and her every Saturday morning. “Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders, but the secret smile that barely turned up the corners of your mouth was still there and the lawyer knew that one, she had seen it often enough.

Erin took a sip from her coffee, narrowing her eyes at you. “Don’t give me that shit, Y/N. It’s Tall, Dark and Handsome isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You admitted quietly, looking down at your fingers, busy playing with the white napkin under your croissant.

“You should get Eddie to look for him, maybe he’s in town.”

Shaking your head vigorously. “No, I’ll not be looking for him. We would have seen each other, probably...maybe.”

“New York is huge, you think you’d just walk down Broadway and bam! There he is? Y/N, I can assure you, that’s not how it works.” She laughs, knowing all about it with her ex-husband Jack. “You want him, you need to look for him, he’s not just going to turn up if you snap your fingers.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to look for him, maybe it wasn’t meant to be if I haven’t run into him by now. Or maybe he���s somewhere in D.C., happily married with 1.93 kids, living in the suburbs and chasing the bad guys.”

Chuckling, the lawyer shook her head at you. “You got it all figured out now, huh? Maybe he’s still single, thinking about that maybe with you. He was really nice when he came around for lunch that day.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Eddie wouldn’t shut up about him for a week straight.” Just then your phone chimed, letting you know that you needed to get ready to get to your Junior High class for their field trip to the museum. You would meet them together with their parents right in front of the museum. “Shit, I’m late! Sorry Erin, I got to head off.”

“We’re not done talking about him!” She called after you as you raced out of the cafe to the next Metro station.

An hour and a half later you remind your seventh grade students to be nice and listen closely to the lady showing you around the National History Museum. “There’s going to be a test on Monday next week, so you guys should take notes on all of this.”

A groan ripped through the hall and I knew they hated me for this. “But Miss Reagan, you said we could have fun today.” Jimmy calls from the back, a frown on his cute face. 

Giggling, you shook your head. They were still thinking it was just going to stay easier from there on out. “I did, but it doesn’t mean you guys can slack off on your school work. This is going to help you with your Science project.”

Groans, followed by sighs from your students were the end of that conversation. You and the group of thirteen-year-olds followed Mrs. Langdon as she talked about the museum, which exhibitions had already been part of the building and what was waiting for the boys and girls of Lower Manhattan Middle School. They were in the Early Adolescence stage and it was absolutely normal for them to act like that. With Nicky, Jack and Sean you had been exposed to that stage early on and you loved them for it.

You entered the Saurichian Hall of the museum, awed by the skeletons, the hairs on your arms starting to raise from the goosebumps at the imagination of having lived back in time, 66 millennia’s ago. But somehow, it wasn’t the only thing that gave you the shivers. At the entrance of the museum you had seen a guy, dressed like everyone else. But you had been around police your whole life and listened to your bothers to know that something was definitely wrong with him. His head was down but you saw his eyes darting about like he was searching for something – or someone.

Getting to the next section, you slightly turned your head away from your students excitingly listening to the tales of each dinosaur exhibited at the museum.

There he was again, the backpack slung low on his shoulders and it looked like he was sweating. Was he sick and needed help? If so, wouldn’t he have asked the people at the front desk or even stayed at home.

Danny had always told you to be vigilant about suspicious people roaming about and this guy fit the description. Should you text Danny or Jamie? They were probably busy with their cases and if he was just a creep you’d make a fool out of yourself and maybe your dad in extension.

Police Commissioner’s daughter accuses visitor at the National History Museum to be a creep and makes a laughing stock out of the Reagan family.

Now that would be the headline of the week.

Turning back to listen to Mrs. Langdon and your students with a sigh you missed him pulling out a gun from under his jacket, pointing it at your back before slightly lifting it up and pulling the trigger.

11:40, Joint Operations Center

“Alright guys, we've got a hostage situation at the National History Museum. Twenty-two students from LoMa Middle School and their teacher. This is high profile. Detective Reagan with the NYPD called it in about fifteen minutes ago.” ASAC Jubal Valentine’s voice rang out through the JOC. He motioned to Elise, one of the Analysts to put every information on the screens. “This is Y/N Reagan, she’s a teacher at the school and also the daughter of New York City Police Commissioner Frank Reagan.”

Your picture popped up on the screens, a happy smile on your face as you sat together with your father and your brother Jamie at a city function.

“You know, now that I’m done with my trainee-ship as teacher, we could make it official. Dad wants me to tag along at this function or other and I’d like to take you as my plus one.” You smiled at him, your arms slung around his neck as you lounged together on his bed.

Omar ran his fingers from your shoulder to your elbow and up again. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, slightly roughed from the army. “It would be nice, I’d love to finally show you off to my family as well. Erin has been nagging me like a hen to know who the guy is making me smile all day.” He smiled, nuzzling her neck and listening to her giggles as his nose and beard rubbed up and down against that point where her neck met her shoulder.

"I'd like that. I bet your sister isn't the only one nagging." He chuckled, burrowing closer and pushing his lower half against yours earning a soft groan from you.

Your fingers raked over his head, feeling the short cropped hair tickle the palm of your hands. “Pop and dad are already giving me those penetrative looks, you know the ones where they are acting like cops and trying to read a suspects thoughts.”

Closing his eyes, the former army ranger breathed in your scent. It was the one thing that grounded him on days his mind sent him back to Iraq. “From what you told me I’m more afraid of your brother, not your father and grandpa.”

Omar moved next to Maggie, a soft Shit leaving his lips as his eyes swept over the screens. It had been a few years since he’d last seen you, only a few days short of leaving for his training at Quantico. Seeing your face, tear track staining your cheeks with the suspect pressing his gun to your head.

The brunette watched her partner, the fingers of his left hand anxiously playing with his ring. A sign that he was nervous. A sign Maggie had learned in the beginning when they first were partnered up.

“You know her?”

He sighed, “We, ugh, we dated for a while before, before I went into training. I...broke it off, because I thought she’d be better off without me.”

“Gosh, OA.” Maggie murmured, scratching a fingernail along her eyebrow thoughtfully. She knew her partner had been in relationships before – he was Muslim, not a virginal saint, but she had never seen him this distraught or anxious. 

It was clear as day that you were still important to him and it took everything in him to not run out the door and drive off toward the museum.

"What do we have on the suspect?" Isobel questioned, coming to stand next to her 2nd in charge. 

"Suspect is 40 year old Andrew O'Sullivan, former police officer with the NYPD, 54th Precinct and bomb specialist with the Marines. Detective Daniel Reagan, Y/N’s older brother was part of the investigation against him.” Kelly Moran, an analyst at the JOC spoke up, tapping hastily on his keyboard and sending the pictures of their suspect to the bigger screens. “He took drugs from evidence and tried to sell it on the street. O’Sullivan needed it for his daughter, she has leukemia and he was going to take the money to pay for her treatments.”

The analyst pressed a key to show the picture of a little girl, maybe ten years old, grinning at the camera. “Lena O’Sullivan, she”

“His daughter died two days ago, that’s why he’s doing it. He wanted to save her from it and we took the money that would pay for her treatment. Andrew has been angry with me for a while and called me after Lena died.” A new voice sounded from behind them, strong and authoritative, yet they could all hear the pain laced into his words. “He has my sister and if you guys don’t get a move on, Andrew is going to kill them all.” Detective Daniel Reagan had made his way to the JOC, knowing he couldn’t make a move against O’Sullivan without the people of the FBI. You were his little sister and he’d be damned just sitting around at the precinct when he needed to get you to safety. More so when Erin would have his head for being the reason the former officer had you and your kids as hostages.

[starcrossedxwriter]

I’ve fallen DEEP into the world of Dick Wolf’s FBI shows 😭

Anddddd this man??? Agent Omar (OA) Zidan??? Has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Like the personification of BDE. This is a man you save the big piece of chicken for ok???

I want him to pin me down like he does his suspects… throw me across a room OA. Like take that energy out on me… PLEASE

I love him. That’s all.

PS - I would never actually date a cop/FBI agent/weapon the state lol But I do love him and a good crime procedural 😭 don’t judge me too much lol

[proceduralpassion]

whispers of the nile | chapter 02

Synopsis: After leaving the FBI, Tiffany finds herself living her childhood dreams of pursuing archeology and studying the realm of ancient artifacts. Visiting Egypt for a much-needed break, OA bumps into Tiffany and reconnects after over a year since her departure. In the meantime, they both get wrapped up into a murder mystery and their feelings with each other.

Warning(s): discussion of death, violence; depiction of murder and mutilation, language

WC: ~2.2k

A/N: Back with a second part of WOTN! The case of the murdered professor is now underway and Zillace is sticking around to help! Hope you all enjoy! <3

Their ride to the dig site, where her professor’s body lies, was laced with a not uncomfortable silence. The energy in Tiff’s rental SUV is stilted. Sticky and warm, much like the weather permeating on the outside. Clarke sits in the back, on the phone with one of their classmates, updating them on their professor’s death.

“I don’t know,” Clark moans over the phone. “The TA is the one that called to tell me. And then I told Tiff because I figured she’d know what to do. I gave the phone to her and the officer asked for us to come straight to the scene so they could get more information.”

OA glances over to Tiff. “An American dead on foreign soil… The Fly Team’s probably gonna get called.”

She nods in agreement. “Yeah. But I doubt that officer knew about my connection. I think they just need someone on the scene who can identify her and give context to why we’re here.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

Tiffany sighs. “Earlier this afternoon. We had didactics and then a tutorial session on proper fieldwork. We were supposed to head to our first excavation site tomorrow.”

OA had listened to Clark and Tiffany’s exchange with the officer on the phone back at the restaurant, so he knew the circumstances surrounding her death were suspicious, but it was a matter of how suspicious. They had only been here in a matter of weeks, but a lot could happen in that time.

The SUV slows at the sight of flashing lights and crime scene tape. The sun has gone in for the night and the moonlight glows over the flat lands. Sand kicks up as the wheels halt to a stop and it settles like dust on a night like this where the winds are tame. There’s vast, monumental structures up ahead that resemble temples and probably even further down, tombs. It’s a sprawling complex, most likely dedicated to one of the gods, with its intricately carved hieroglyphics on the walls and grandeur architecture fit for royalty.

The trio get out of the car, Tiffany and OA lasering in to find out who’s in charge while Clarke follows along behind them hesitantly.

They don’t have to wait for long to find their point person as a middle-aged, weathered man approaches them, all business. He bows his head in greeting while skeptically looking over the three. After his once-over assessment, he says, “We spoke on the phone, yes?”

Tiffany replies, “Yes, I’m Tiffany Wallace, one of Professor Chastain’s students. This is Clarke Dulles, one of my classmates, and this is OA Zidan. He’s an FBI agent based in the U.S.”

The detective’s eyes widened at OA’s credentials.

OA holds his hands up defensively, “I’m not here to step on any toes. I’m here as a civilian, but if there’s anything you need, I can call my bosses and get you whatever.”

He nods his head before introducing himself. “Lieutenant Shaheed with the Egyptian National Police.” He addresses them all, “I can’t let you onto the actual scene, but it is… peculiar. And I have questions to ask, both about the professor but also any information you might be able to provide about the oddity of the scene.”

The lieutenant gestures to the nearby officer, silently signaling him over. The man carries a professional digital camera, which Shaheed passes to Tiffany.

It’s been a long time since she’s been faced with having to examine crime scene photos. To gaze at the condition of the deceased human body and the turmoil that encircles the place in which they took their last breath. It’s even more harrowing when she recognizes the woman in the photos.

Professor Abby Chastain. Forty seven years old. Never married. No kids. Doctorate’s in Egyptology and Anthropological Archeology with a special interest in Coptic archeology and the history of scripts and language.

Her body lay in the sand with signs of violent struggle, including abrasions and various lacerated wounds. For a woman who was kind and lively, it’s hard to imagine why anyone would inflict such pain on her. What’s even worse, however, are the strange carved signs that are etched along her skin. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say they looked like-

“Hieroglyphics,” Clarke declares. Tiffany looks up at her, capturing the bewildered expression on her classmate and friend’s face. “Why the hell are their hieroglyphics sculpted into her skin?”

“I was hoping you could answer that for us,” Lieutenant Shaheed provided.

Tiffany frowns, turning her attention back to the camera, continuing to swipe at the pictures. Some of them are close ups of the wounds, and Clarke steps back in discomfort. OA glances at the photos, leaning over Tiffany. He observes. “She’s got ligature marks on her wrists. I can’t really tell if those wounds were carved into her before or after she died, but she was at least in restraints for some time ante-mortem.”

“Why was she at this site alone at night? It’s my understanding that you all are a study abroad group, but surely it’s not ideal to excavate at night? And it makes no sense that she was by herself.”

Tiffany responds to the lieutenant. “Well, she definitely wasn’t completely alone for this to have happened to her,” she notes. “I honestly don’t know what she was doing here or why. We were supposed to have our first excavation site day tomorrow and it was to be with all of us as a group.”

“And she never mentioned to anyone that she would be here?”

Clarke jumps in. “No, we all went out to dinner as a group. We figured she just didn’t want to be around a bunch of grad students so she went back to the hotel.”

The lieutenant hums, taking in their words. “Do you all happen to have any contact information for her family?”

Tiffany gets out her phone. “I think so. We have a shared document with all of our emergency contacts just in case anything happened.”

As they exchange information, OA continues taking in the scene. Several police cars pool at the front of the site, their harsh lights setting the backdrop. He can see the massive stone blocks that sit pridefully on both sides of the entrance, to which OA assumes leads to a tomb. They’re in Luxor, south of Cairo, and the dark Nile was their scenery as they drove along the highway that eventually led them to this site.

There’s officers crawling through the scene, scanning the perimeter for any potential clues, while also traversing back and forth down to the tomb. One officer who emerges from inside approaches the group with a plastic evidence bag covering a leather-bound book.

He grabs Lieutenant Shaheed’s attention. “Found this not far from the deceased. It was open, face-down on the floor.”

Shaheed turns the book over, examining the pages that the book was left on.

Tiffany steps closer, recognizing the handwriting. “That’s the professor’s journal.” She glances over the lieutenant's shoulder as he reads some of the fallen professor’s notes aloud.

“Set- imprisoned by brother under Valley of the Kings. Artifact= awakening?”

“Set?” OA repeats.

“The god of chaos,” Tiffany supplies.

The two men look at her, notes of confusion still coloring their faces.

“In Egyptian mythology, Set is the ancient god that represents chaos and disorder. There’re temples where he’s worshipped, mostly in the old town known as Sepermeru, which is up north closer to Cairo.”

“Could there be any relevance or significance to here?” Shaheed ponders curiously.

“Honestly… I don’t know. I mean, we’ve learned about Egyptian mythology as part of our course work, but none of this is related to why we were here for this project. As far as I knew, there was a supposed family tomb we were to explore tomorrow.”

Shaheed sighs, handing the evidence bag back to the officer. “Well, while there’s security here on the premises, there are unfortunately no surveillance cameras that could’ve identified the goings and comings of individuals onto the premises. My officers will continue collecting evidence while her body will be taken to the morgue for further examination. Given that she’s a U.S. citizen, we’ll more than likely be consulting your comrades for this case.” The lieutenant addresses OA with his last statement.

He nods in response, already prepared to debrief Isobel.

“Thank you for providing us with her family’s information,” Shaheed says to Tiffany and addresses her and Clarke, “We’ll probably have more questions for you two and the rest of your classmates tomorrow. I’m limited in what I can divulge during an active investigation, but my team and I will do our very best to get you some answers.”

Tiff and Clarke both give simultaneous thanks to the astute lieutenant. Tiffany, in particular, felt mildly comforted by the fact that the man seemed particularly competent in his investigation so far.

This entire night had turned into a whirlwind so swiftly. It wasn’t until OA had stopped her rental SUV in front of their apartment complex that she had allowed her mind to settle its intense buzzing.

“Well, I don’t know about y’all, but that drained me. I need to sleep,” Clarke declares as they all get out. OA walks around to the passenger side as Tiff shuts her door, and slips her the keys.

“Thanks for driving back.” Her voice is soft, a tone as low as her mood.

“Of course,” OA says.

The trio had stopped at the apartment complex first before heading to the scene, dropping off a couple of their classmates who had been at the restaurant with them earlier. OA’s car was in the parking lot, having driven separately, but he bypasses the vehicle, instead walking up the stairs behind Clarke and Tiffany as they head back to their temporary home.

Clarke sends them a frazzled “good night” before heading to her unit without another ounce of hesitation. Crime scenes may have been a commonplace location for Tiffany and OA, but the whole night had left the younger grad student a lot more unnerved, given the harrowing circumstances.

OA loiters, but not for long, as Tiffany immediately gestures for him to follow her inside as she unlocks her own apartment. She shares the unit with another of her classmates who must already be asleep if the turned off lights were any indication.

She turns on the lamp atop the end table in the living room before turning to her former colleague.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says. “Probably wasn’t the turn of events you were expecting.”

“I’ll say,” she replies with a humorless chuckle. “I didn’t know her that well but it’s still terrible.”

He steps closer to her. “I’m sorry, Tiff.”

Her hand settles on his arm. “Thanks.”

“I doubt she knows that I’ve already been on scene, but I’m still gonna call Isobel. She’ll probably be coordinating with Forrester’s team but I just figured she should know the circumstances.”

Tiffany nods. “Right. We’re what? Six hours ahead?”

“Seven,” OA corrects.

Glancing down at her Apple watch, she notes, “It’s still afternoon in New York. She’ll probably get that call.”

OA gives a small, sympathetic smile. Earlier, he was admiring how at peace she looked. There was a tranquil glow that she wore at the restaurant earlier and it had now dimmed significantly in light of recent events. He, himself, almost felt like a dark cloud that had come in and rained on her aura.

She looks up at him, commiseration in her eyes. “How are you? You came here to get away from work and now you’re kind of smacked in the middle of it.”

He sighs. “I think I just needed to get out of New York. Get away from all my obligations for a while. Obviously, this isn’t ideal, but…”

His sentence trails off, but he doesn’t need to elaborate further. Even if she’s not privy to whatever troubles had triggered his work leave, she knew that it must’ve been a big decision for him to take a leave of absence. She wouldn’t say he was a workaholic or the person who stayed at the office later than others, but he always gave one hundred percent of himself on every case. As far as she knew, he’d been working straight for close to two decades, rarely taking breaks for himself.

It’s how she knows that he probably isn’t going to just wipe his hands of the case just because another team is taking it.

“What time should we meet up tomorrow?”

Her question raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that face,” she chuckles. “Me, Clarke, and the rest of us are gonna head to campus tomorrow. Everyone already knows, but the international education office is already sending us emails about support and arrangements.”

“And I’m assuming Lieutenant Shaheed is probably going to want to take full statements from everyone once they’ve got their ducks in a row…” OA adds.

“Right.”

“I can meet you guys here beforehand, I guess, with any updates I have from Isobel or Scott.”

Tiffany nods her head in agreement.

“You know, I was wanting to hopefully see you again while we’re both here, but obviously this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Yeah…” She gives a soft smile. “I was actually thinking the same.”

OA looks down, his expression slightly bashful but entirely sincere. “It’s really good to see you, Tiff.”

[socialoutsider1a]

Connie Nielsen (Special Agent in Charge Ellen Solberg in the FBI Season 1 series premiere episode, "Pilot") is Danish.

Ebonee Noel (Kristen Chazal) is Guyanese.

Missy Peregrym (Maggie Bell) and Nathaniel Arcand (Clinton Skye) are Canadian.

Zeeko Zaki (OA Zidan) was born in Egypt.

Alexa Davalos (Kristin Gaines) was born in France.

Miguel Gomez (Ivan Ortiz) is Colombian.

Julian McMahon (Jess LaCroix) and Keisha Castle-Hughes (Hana Gibson) are Australian.

Roxy Sternberg (Sheryll Barnes) and Christina Wolf (Amanda Tate on FBI: International) are English.

Christiane Paul is German, a trait she shares with her FBI: International character, Katrin Jaeger.

Eva-Jane Willis (Megan "Smitty" Garretson) is South-African.

And Heida Reed (Jamie Kellet) is Icelandic.

[rantingoverbadfic]

You know, when FBI: Special Crime Unit first started in tv, I thought 'Hmmm, might be something for me'. Copaganda or not, I love procedurals, but I fell out of love with NCIS pretty quickly, pretty much every CSI offshoot is so laden with interpersonal drama and intrigue and backstabbing, that it gets unwatchable the deeper you are into the series; and the new Hawaii 5-0 brings my temper to boiling as soon as they abandon the investigating and start with action shenanigans, which is pretty much ten seconds after the episode starts.

With FBI:SCU we have introduced the character of OA Zidan, who is supposed to be an introduction to a positively coded arabic character, considering all the negative stereotypes that cropped up with the supposed war on terror. And while it is a step in the right direction, it ticks me off that OA is constantly flying off the handle whenever a case hits a snag, instead of acting like someone who grew up with the all the hate post 9/11 and still is idealistic enough to begin a career in law enforcement and keep THE FUCK CALM AND NOT ENDANGER THE CASES OF EVERYONE ELSE!!!! It is only his own case that he is interested in; he forces another agent for an introduction to the mole and then starts pressuring him to do more, and then has the audacity to snap at the agent when he - rightfully - tells him off for pushing his source. He did you a favor, he didn't have to introduce you, he didn't have to give you squat!!! If this is your idea of cooperation, then you are an absolute nightmare of an agent! You should have been busted back to writing parking tickets because no one in their right mind would want to partner with you, work with you or be your backup!

Then, when they finally get a break in the case, the agent with the mole asks them to delay the arrest for a couple of days. Once again, OA is the one who starts frothing at the mouth and raging, as if he had been asked to let the suspect go or to kill someone. 'We already have three dead bodies' he screams, emoting worse than the worst caricature of a female cop with PMS. (Interestingly, his female partner is always underemoting and has to rein him in. I am sure it got old five minutes after their partnership started, having to constantly mommy this big douchecanoe baby with anger issues). Well, OA, those dead bodies won't miraculously spring back to live if you wait with your arrest. And the father, who lost his wife and his daughter in one swoop, won't care when you arrest him, as long as he knows you have arrested someone. This is the difference between arresting one person and busting the whole gang.

I hate hate hate having someone who is not baked from the same mold as everyone of those interchangeable white bread characters, and having him be not simply a token, but such a bad cop that he is constantly endangering the work of everyone else he works with. He is a loose cannon and I hate to say that I would rather he died.

[sabrinajenre96]

Ride or die

OA Zidan x Reader

⚠️ Content Warning: Violence, Gunfire, Injury, Hostage Situation

This story contains intense action sequences, including a train hijacking, gun violence, and a character sustaining a gunshot wound. If you are sensitive to themes of violence or medical distress, please proceed with caution.

The steady rhythm of the train gliding along the tracks mixed with the soft hum of conversation. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a golden glow on you and OA as he rested his arm around your shoulders, keeping you snug against his side.

“For someone who’s been ridiculously secretive about this trip, you look pretty damn pleased with yourself,” you teased, tilting your head up to meet OA’s smirk.

“Maybe because I am pleased with myself.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then—because he knew it would make you laugh—one to your nose.

You huffed playfully. “So, you’re really not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

OA grinned, his fingers tracing idle circles on your arm. “Nope.”

“Unbelievable.” You shook your head, but your smile gave you away.

Across from you, a young couple—two men in their late twenties—watched with amused smirks. One of them, the brunette with bright green eyes, leaned forward.

“He’s really making you wait, huh?”

“Oh, he thinks he’s being all mysterious and romantic,” you said, casting OA a pointed look. “Meanwhile, I’m just wondering if we’re headed somewhere chill or if I should’ve packed a bulletproof vest.”

The other man, his boyfriend—a guy with curly dark hair and an easy grin—chuckled. “We had the same argument this morning. He,” he nudged his partner, “refused to tell me where we were going for our anniversary trip. Three years together, and he still pulls this crap.”

The green-eyed man rolled his eyes. “It’s called building anticipation, babe.”

“Yeah? Anticipation’s gonna get you sleeping on the couch when we get back.”

You laughed, nudging OA. “See? You better not be dragging me into some mystery mountain survival situation.”

OA smirked, his warm brown eyes twinkling. “You love a challenge.”

“Not when it involves potential bear attacks, Omar.”

He chuckled and kissed you again, just because he could. The playful banter with the couple continued, interspersed with occasional comments from an older woman a few seats away, who found the whole conversation hilarious. The train ride was peaceful, filled with easy laughter and the kind of stolen moments you rarely got anymore with work and parenting.

Then OA’s body tensed.

His fingers, once lazily tracing your arm, stopped. His gaze sharpened, scanning the train car with quiet intensity.

You felt it immediately. “What is it?” you asked, voice dropping into work mode.

OA didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to a group of men a few rows ahead—four of them, stiff, scanning the train as if they weren’t passengers but watching passengers.

Something was wrong.

You followed OA’s line of sight, your gut twisting. The men weren’t traveling together, but they moved like a unit. Then, just as your phone buzzed with a message from Maggie confirming Sawyer was safe, one of them stood up.

And pulled a gun.

“Nobody move!”

Screams erupted. People ducked, pressing against their seats, hands raised in submission. The young couple across from you froze, gripping each other’s hands. The older woman nearby clutched her book to her chest.

Instinctively, OA shifted, his body angling protectively in front of you. Your hand slipped discreetly into your pocket, fingers flying over your phone as you sent a single message to Maggie.

Hijacked.

One of the passengers—a guy in his early thirties—panicked and lunged toward the nearest gunman.

“NO!” OA barked, but it was too late.

The hijacker turned, gun swinging up—

OA moved fast, tackling the man before he could fire. You bolted toward the emergency brake, fingers barely brushing the handle when—

BANG.

A fiery, searing pain ripped through your side, knocking you off balance. The force sent you crashing to the floor, a cry wrenching from your throat as you clutched your bleeding side.

OA’s head snapped toward you, his face breaking as he saw you on the ground.

“NO!” His voice was raw, pure panic clawing through him.

A cold barrel pressed against his back before he could move.

“Hands up.”

You forced your head up and saw her—a woman you hadn’t noticed before, her expression unreadable as she aimed a pistol at OA.

The hijackers moved fast. OA was yanked back, his wrists forced behind him as a zip tie tightened around them. Your vision blurred with pain, but through the chaos, you felt OA’s desperation, his frantic need to get to you.

“Stay with me, baby. Just stay with me.”

Your breathing hitched as you forced out a weak, “I’m not going anywhere, idiot.”

One of the hijackers—the one who shot you—paced nervously. He hadn’t expected this. None of them had.

OA pounced on that hesitation.

“You don’t want this to get worse,” he said, his voice steady despite the fire raging inside him. “You shot a federal agent. If you let her bleed out, you’re looking at a death sentence.”

The guy hesitated.

“I can help her,” OA continued. “But you have to let me.”

The gunman clenched his jaw.

“Check my back pocket,” OA ordered. “Go ahead. Check it.”

The man did—and when he pulled out OA’s FBI credentials, his hands shook.

Murmurs rippled through the train car. Passengers started pleading, urging the hijacker to let OA go.

But the woman—the real leader of this operation—watched it all unfold with a calculating gaze.

Then, without hesitation, she turned and shot one of her own men.

A beat of stunned silence.

The hijackers turned on each other.

“What the hell are you doing?!” one of them shouted.

“You think I’m letting you idiots ruin this?” she sneered before locking herself in the control room.

OA took his chance. “You don’t have to die for her plan,” he told the remaining hijackers. “Help me stop this before it’s too late.”

Tension crackled in the air.

Finally—finally—the remaining three hesitated, then nodded.

—

The plan unfolded in minutes. OA got you and the passengers into the last train car, ready to detach it. But as you staggered toward safety, you turned back, your heart dropping.

OA wasn’t coming with you.

“No. No, no, no, we do this together.”

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You need to go.”

You shook your head, gripping his jacket. “You’re not doing this alone.”

His jaw clenched. “Sawyer needs at least one of us—”

Your breath hitched. “Don’t you dare say that. She needs her father, OA.” Your voice cracked. “Come back to me. Promise me.”

His lips ghosted against yours. “I promise.”

With a final look, OA turned and detached the train cars.

And you watched through the window, praying to everything in the world that he would come back.

—

He did.

But later, as you slept in the hospital, OA crumbled outside your room.

Maggie caught him before he hit the floor, pulling him into a hug.

“She’s okay,” she whispered. “And Sawyer’s waiting for you at home.”

And for the first time since the train ride, OA let himself break.

[skylarmoon71]

Jubal Valentine (FBI/Grimm): Short Story - AU: Chapter 4

Cases get messy when you’re unsure of what the motive is, what they want.

It’s a little more terrifying when you take one look at the victim and realize something none of your other colleagues would.

“Two sharp incisions, bite marks, claw marks, torn flesh. A Mauvi Don. You need to be careful. This one, it’s dangerous.”

As a cop, you heard that word all the time.

Dangerous.

But there was something about Nick’s warning that solidified your understanding of all things wesen. While most were manageable, others came with more risks. Wendigo, Gelumcaedus, Hundjäger, those were the ones he’d added extra caution to when he told the tales.

That’s why when you heard from your captain that the FBI were taking the lead, you felt a bit uneasy. You weren’t about to tell them how to do their job, but the idea of them walking into a dangerous situation because they didn’t have the knowledge left a pit in your stomach.

By the time you made it to 26 Fed, you were almost relieved that your partner was still out on vacation. You had a feeling this would get messy.

Introductions were being made as they walked you through the hallway.

“This is Omar Zidan and Maggie Bell, they’ll be working with you.” One of the agents spoke.

“OA, nice to meet you.”

You nod, shaking his hand as Maggie sends you a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind, we didn’t mean to snatch your case.”

Maggie offers.

You just brush it off.

“No worries, I’m not an idiot or territorial about cases like some cops. Any help is appreciated.”

Them getting the case wasn’t really the issue. You’re not about to waste time fighting over jurisdiction when there is a real threat out there.

When you turn the corner, the setup is impressive.

Now that you think about it, their names sound a bit familiar.

The second you step into the room, the man standing in front of the screens delegating duties catches your attention.

“Alright everyone, we have three dead and still no sign of the killer. We need all hands on deck because this guy is on a spree. Dig up everything you can, I want to know the name of his first pet.”

Just like that all heads are trained in their computers, and when he turns, you wish you hadn’t been so obviously gawking. He looks just as surprised as you, but smiles.

“Detective Reinhardt, it’s good to see you again.”

He walks over and both OA and Maggie are curious.

“You know each other?”

You always seem to lose your composure when you see him. Your cheeks are flushed, and you try to keep your expression neutral, but it’s hard, especially with the way he won’t stop smiling.

“Yes, we do.” You finally work out.

Jubal nods, and you clear your throat.

“So, what do we have?”

You need to return your focus, both for the case and your obvious flustered expression.

Jubal moves to the big screen to explain.

“As of right now all we know is build and his general hunting sight. He’s been targeting people in central park. We’re still searching for a connection, but as of right now, there doesn’t seem to be one. I called in a favor. A friend from Quantico who also works internationally. He has experience in a case that he dealt with a few months ago. I think he can really help us.” 

Jubal's head turns when someone walks in, and he grins.

“Speak of the devil.”

The taller man walks over.

Dark hair, blue eyes, dressed in a suit. His larger dark coat sways with each step, the visitor’s badge pinned to his suit.

“Alexander, good of you to stop by.”

“I’m glad you reached out, I believe we are after the same man. I intend to help in any way that I can.”

The first thing you catch is the accent. He’s english, but from his gait, and posture, he’s not just some common fed.

There’s something about him that has you squinting. He goes around the circle greeting everyone, and when he gets to you, he holds out his hand, but you don’t take it.

“Nice to meet you.”

Your tone is a bit cold, and he lowers his hand. Jubal looks curious, maybe a bit confused. Alexander just watches but says nothing.

“Could we have a word, Valentine.”

“Yes, let’s go.”

Jubal leads him away, and you eye both of them as they disappear around the room to his office.

“Something wrong?” Maggie inquires.

You wish you could give an answer, but you’re not sure. You just have a feeling in your gut and you’re not sure what to do with it.

“Just a bit jealous, why does he get a fancy suit?”

You smile, and both Maggie and OA return it with a soft laugh as you three get back to work.

For the time being, you decide to keep an eye on him. He’s been sticking to Jubal’s side, and with each piece of information that is uncovered, it feels like you’re all just a few steps behind. At one point, Jubal is in his office.

You understand his frustration, because now you all have a face, but you still can’t catch the guy. Not to mention proving that he caused the injuries.

You find him in his seat, and you knock on the door. You didn’t expect Alexander to be there too, then again, you shouldn’t be surprised. He keeps looking at you as if he knows you. The way they both turn, it feels like they were discussing something you weren’t supposed to know about.

You close the door behind you.

“I just wanted to check in, everything alright?”

Jubal nods, standing, waving his wrist.

“We’re fine. Just a bit of stress.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Alexander’s quip makes you raise a brow and Jubal sighs.

“Drop it Alex.”

“Maybe you should be more willing to listen, I already told you, she knows. You don’t have to be uneasy.”

Now you’re confused, maybe a bit worried.

“What exactly do I know?”

Jubal shakes his head, moving to your side.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just tired, aren’t you Alex.”

Jubal is somewhat shielding you from Alexander, almost like he wants you to leave before anything is said. Alexander’s eyes still watch you inquisitively.

All he does is make a simple head gesture, and his skin is replaced by white spotted fur. His eyes light up and instinctively, you shove Jubal behind you. You want to reach for your gun, but you’re in a packed building with the FBI, if you make such a move, you will have to explain.

“You lay a hand on him and I’ll kill you where you stand!”

Your threat is sharp and you’re careful to keep Jubal behind you.

Alexander is still strangely calm, even when he woges back.

“I told you, she’s a Grimm.”

His words make you tense and you look back at Jubal.

“Wait..y-you know?”

Jubal looks equally surprised.

“I..Well I’ve known about this stuff for years but you’re a..Grimm?”

You swallow, your body slowly relaxes.

How did things get so crazy?

You mean to explain yourself, but the door opens and Maggie rushes inside.

“We found him!!”

Looks are exchanged in the room.

There needs to be a discussion, but right now, you have a killer to catch.

“Let’s go.”

Jubal instructs.

You nod, following them out the room. 

[figtrad]

Zico Zaki: FBI Train Hijack OA and Jameer destroyed 'honeymoon phase'

Zaki Published OA and Jamema Relationships will be pushed to its limit on this week's episode FBI What was supposed to happen away from the stress-free weekend. “It starts with me and Jemma, hopefully a beautiful little vacation is going on,” Zaki, who played the special agent Omar Adam “OA” Zidane's role, said exclusively Our weeklyThe “Of course it is suddenly destroyed by terrorists that most…

[enigmatist17]

Did I mention how much I fucking love OA Zidan?

Just watched the latest episode, and I can only feel pure respect for him and "being able to handle taking a life without being affected by it"

Oh how wrong you were friend, OA is one of the most empathetic team members, and the look on his face when Sula walked away broke my damn heart :(

OA has quickly risen through the ranks of my favorite Dick Wolf characters, and I can't wait to see more with him next season.

Also, side note, saw a blurb about the finale being a bit of a psychological horror? SCREAM

[gamistuff]

Zico Zaki: FBI Train Hijack OA and Jameer destroyed 'honeymoon phase'

Zaki Published OA and Jamema Relationships will be pushed to its limit on this week's episode FBI What was supposed to happen away from the stress-free weekend. “It starts with me and Jemma, hopefully a beautiful little vacation is going on,” Zaki, who played the special agent Omar Adam “OA” Zidane's role, said exclusively Our weeklyThe “Of course it is suddenly destroyed by terrorists that most…

[damindf]

Zico Zaki: FBI Train Hijack OA and Jameer destroyed 'honeymoon phase'

Zaki Published OA and Jamema Relationships will be pushed to its limit on this week's episode FBI What was supposed to happen away from the stress-free weekend. “It starts with me and Jemma, hopefully a beautiful little vacation is going on,” Zaki, who played the special agent Omar Adam “OA” Zidane's role, said exclusively Our weeklyThe “Of course it is suddenly destroyed by terrorists that most…