#abby x townsend

[gildengirl]

If Abby and Townsend didn't first get together with the cliche "Shut up." "Make me." then I don't know what to tell you, because they most certainly did.

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

23) Ursa Major - Abby x Townsend

Half a decade before the events of LYKY, Abby and Townsend are completing a mission in Dubai over Christmas with Abe Baxter in tow. (4,527)

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“Come on Townsend, truth or dare?”

“I don’t know how many times I can tell you Abigail, I’m not playing that childish game with you two.”

“Oh come on, lighten up! It’s Christmas!”

“I told you Abs, Stick-in-the-mud Bond over there will never give in, no matter how much you bat your eyelashes at him. He’s far too formal and stubborn for that.”

“Fine, Abe, truth or dare?”

“…Truth.”

“A couple of years ago you and Grace disappeared on an assignment with Rach in Casablanca. You told her you were held up by roadblocks and security checks.” Cautiously, the man nodded, an embarrassed flush already beginning to spread across his face as a wide smirk grew along hers. “Where were you really?”

“You’re evil.” Abby threw her head back in unbridled laughter as the man just shook his head and threw another shot back, grimacing as the second bottle of Russian vodka she had smuggled into the country with them trickled down his throat. “Speaking of Grace, I’m going to give her and Bex a call before you knock me out with this stuff. They should be up by now.”

“It’s just gone 19:00 back home, shouldn’t you have called them at lunch?”

“They’re not in London mate.” He shot Townsend a wink before clambering to his feet and stumbling towards the hotel room across the hall that the boys were staying in.

That just left Abby, warmed by one of her brother-in-law’s sweaters and sat cross-legged on the floor, in the company of Townsend, still adorned in his formal dress pants and shirt, perched stoically on one of the stiff kitchen chairs. Looking up at him, she let out a small laugh at the exasperated roll of his eyes, at the disapproving shake of his head, at the quiet huff of disapproval he gave as Abe tumbled out of the door.

“Don’t you two know how irresponsible it is for you to be drinking on the job?” Usually, his condescending tone would boil her blood and grate her teeth, but she was giddy with the flush of the holidays and the alcohol, could only grin at him. Besides, maybe he had a point.

Not that she’d ever tell him that.

“Save me the lecture Townsend, Abe’s your senior agent by over a decade and I started my training before you even packed your bags for university.” Another roll of his eyes and a scoff at the reminder of her school, her grin growing as his took on a slightly chastised look at the reminder of the pecking order in their little trio. “Anyway, we’re just hanging around until the banquet in a few days. We’ve already done all the recon and prep work. I’d hardly call it on the job.” She couldn’t resist the mocking English accent that slipped out, his bashful glance at the floor transforming into an irritated glare.

“We have covers to maintain, guards to keep up. If someone had come to the hotel-”

“No one is suspicious or looking for us-”

“We can’t know that for sure-”

“And if someone was, then that’s what we have you for. To save the day or whatever.”

Flattery clearly worked on him. The sharp glare on his face, the harshness of his eyes melted, leaving behind only a mildly disgruntled man. “I thought I was invited for my Arabic skills.”

Ugh. Egotistical ass.

“Your Arabic sucks. If anything blows our cover here, it’ll be you asking for a sandwich when the guards request our tickets, not Charlie Chaplin out there tumbling down the stairs after a few too many shots.”

She chuckled slightly at the mental image, trying to imagine him meekly trying to explain to Grace, no Sweetheart, the presidential guard didn’t break my arm, that was the fault of Abby trying to needle details of our personal life out of me. Honestly, Abby reckons she’d find it funny.

“Still-”

“Oh give it a rest Townsend. He just spent Christmas Day in your company rather than his wife and kid’s. He misses them and needed cheering up.” Abby prodded him with her foot, not quite sitting close enough to the man to read him with her hand, in an effort to get him to leave the topic alone. Abe had seemed miserable all day. The first time she saw him smile since the sun rose had been when he dared her to prank call Joe from their burner phone.

Of course, Abby had been missing her own family as well. Although she had spoken briefly with them a few hours ago, she still missed her niece laughing as Matt insisted on keeping up the pretence of Santa Claus despite her figuring out the truth three Christmases ago. She missed her brother-in-law’s gentle teasing when Rachel inevitably tried to help with dinner only to burn whatever she touched and injure herself in the process. She missed her sister’s stern insistence on watching It’s A Wonderful Life once Cam had gone to bed, the way she’d inevitably get upset and drag Abby in for a cuddle when George Bailey discovers his brother’s grave, not letting her go until the evening had long become the night. It was hardly the first Christmas Abby had spent without her family, nor would it be the last, but she missed them all the same.

Perhaps Townsend could see that on her face, or perhaps her words reminded him of whatever family he was apart from today, or perhaps he was just growing atypically obedient, because he did proceed to drop it. Grateful for the reprieve, Abby took a breath, tried to force the happy grin back on her face before her lamenting about working over Christmas brought the mood down.

“So, truth or dare?”

“Do you ever take no for an answer?”

The grin on her face became genuine, his incredulous tone pleasing her. “Rarely. Truth or dare?” She nudged him with her foot again, jabbing at his thigh over and over again the longer he refused to answer her question.

“You’re incorrigible.” She nodded and kept prodding his leg. “Stubborn.” Nodding again, she didn’t fail to notice the slight pulling of his cheek on his lips, a minuscule smile starting to form on his mouth. “The most annoying women I’ve ever met.”

“I’m amazing, I’m incredible, I’m like no one you’ve ever met before. Don’t worry Townsend I’ve heard it all before from men and women much dreamier than you.” Smile growing, he rolled his eyes at her again, hopefully too distracted to pick up on the way her tipsy muscles couldn’t hide the twitch in her face at the lie. She wasn’t ashamed to admit, in her head, that Edward Townsend was an unfairly attractive man. “Now, truth or dare?”

“What is it with you and this game?”

Nostalgia rippled through her bones, her body overtaken by the memory of high ceilings and stained glass windows, of limestone walls and giggling schoolgirls. A soft smile settled on her face, eyes focusing on something far away from their warm hotel room.

When she spoke, her words were whimsical, longing, carrying the kind of sentimentality an operative shouldn’t have. “My roommates and I used to play it at school all the time, from midway through seventh grade until the day we graduated. It started off as a good way to get to know one another, then a way to learn to trust one another, then a way to cheer one another up. Whenever one of us had a bad day, or if we argued, we’d play for half an hour before bed, even if we had assignments to do or finals the next day.”

She remembered playing after Emmy was told her father missed a call in, playing every night until she got the news that he was okay. She remembered playing when Felicia and Trix got in a fight over the boy who delivered the papers to the Academy gate every morning, a boy who didn’t even know they existed. They played endlessly that night, her two roommates giving one another more and more outlandish dares until the girls all fell to the floor in heaps of giggles. She remembers playing her first night back within the school’s walls after her mother died, the way she asked for a truth and fell into her best friend’s lap crying when Emmy asked her, are you okay?

Something in Townsend’s face had softened uncharacteristically at her wistful tone. It looked strange on him. He moved silently from his chair to the floor, looking unnatural as he settled himself opposite her, his knees brushing against hers. The smile on her face grew amused. His position looked outlandish for a man as formal as him, like an overgrown alien child visiting Earth for the first time. Muttering an almost fond, you and that bloody school, under his breath, he reached out for the bottle sat between her legs and took a swig, unfazed as the lukewarm liquor burnt down his throat.

Words soft now, he asked her another question, not knowing the reaction it would trigger. “Do you still play? You and your roommates?”

Heat burned behind her eyes at the memory of them, of the four girls she remembers burying some years ago. Felicia had become Mrs Truman, choosing to remove herself from the world of espionage and marry that kind paper boy from Roseville after an assignment her first year in the field left her with shaking hands and nights interrupted by screams. Abby has visited a few times, but she doesn't recognise the sister she knew. Trix had become Beatrice, moving her way up the ladder of politics to become one of the president’s youngest advisors. They talk occasionally, but there isn’t much they can share with one another, the need-to-know boundaries of their work getting in the way.

Emmy had become Emilia Young, beloved friend and daughter, whose decision to enrol in the secret service after graduation had doomed her.

She shook her head, sniffled slightly, all too aware of the single tear betraying her cool facade and trickling down her cheek. “No.” The whisper was unnecessary, but Abby had never been comfortable with silence.

Clearly uncomfortable with her sudden display of humanness, Townsend’s gaze looked away from her own, shuffling awkwardly on his spot on the floor as he took another swig from the bottle.

She collected herself. Took a deep, silent breath and cleared the haze from her eyes. Steeled her nerves and forced the happy, the fun, the careless, back onto her face. The quiver in her lips died, the heat spreading up her neck from her chest cooling to ice, the ache in her heart subsiding for now. Reaching forward, she joined him in forgoing the shot glasses, wrapping her fingers around the neck of the bottle as he pulled it from his mouth and took it from him, moving it to her own. The rim of the bottle was warm where his lips had been, and she watched him watch her as she tilted her head back.

She swallowed. Once. Twice. Smiled at him.

“Truth or dare?” He groaned, sounding one more probing attempt away from screaming. Remembering Abe’s words from earlier, she tried making her eyes wide, tilting her head, pouting her lip ever so slightly. It was a common face for her to pull when she wanted something, specifically whenever she wanted a man to do her bidding. Matt always caved, as did Joe more often than not, Abe typically giving in with a heavy sigh. “Come on, please.” Townsend just shook his head at her, sighing, a small wry grin starting to form on his face. “Please.”

“…Truth.”

Bingo.

Delighted, she threw her head back in laughter, face taken over by a broad smile. Something light and warm had built up in her chest, something that glowed as his grin grew slightly in response to hers.

Probably the vodka.

She pivoted where she sat, moving so she was perched beside Townsend on the cold floor with her knees tucked up to her chest, her arms wrapped tight around them. His eyes tracked her as she moved, causing something to flutter in her stomach. The heat from his body soothed her from her fingers to her toes, the skin where his knee brushed against her calf breaking out in goosebumps. Hazy as her mind was, she had to resist the sudden urge to drop her head on his shoulder, to collapse against his solid frame and just breathe. Instead, she angled her head towards him and caught his eyes, the light in her heart shining at the light she saw in them.

“Tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know. Anything.”

“I thought truth or dare required specific questions?”

“Fine, tell me something about your childhood. Rumour has it even you had one of those.”

“That’s still not a question. Do you know what questions are Abigail or do you always just command people?”

“Oh please, you like it when I command you.” She blinked at her own words, not quite knowing how they slipped out of her mouth. Shaking her head, she ignored the flush creeping up the man’s face and tried to move past it. “Um, I mean-” Unfortunately, the vast amount of shots she had taken with Abe earlier in the night had left her slightly tongue-tied. “-Oh just pick something and tell me!”

“Something?”

“Yup, whatever you want.”

“Well since you asked so nicely…”

“Shut up.” She drove an elbow lightly into his ribs, ignoring the skip of her heart when he let out a deep chuckle, trying to remember if she had ever heard him laugh as freely as that before.

He hummed quietly while she treated herself to another drink, eyes darting around the hotel room as he ruminated. Something outside caught his attention, teeth clenching in thought. Glancing from the window to her and back again, he took a deep breath and sighed, clearly resigning himself to whatever teasing he was about to subject himself to by sharing what was on his mind.

“When I was a kid, in secondary school I mean-”

“What the fuck is that? Like high school?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know, it’s school between the ages of 11 and 16, sometimes 18.”

“Sometimes?”

“Can I finish what I was saying now?” Waving a hand at him, the universal signal for go ahead, she grinned to herself at the flare of irritation that had built back up on his face. It overcame the brief discomfort that had settled upon him when he started opening up, the tension of his jaw and thickness of his throat being replaced by tired eyes and a disapproving stare. “When I was a teenager, I was a bit… intense in school-”

“You mean you were a nerd right? Because I’ll be honest, that’s not news to me, you kind of scream I was smarter than everyone else and I got bullied for it.”

“Are you going to interrupt me the entire time?”

“Probably.”

“Great.” Dry tone making her laugh breathily, he swiped the bottle from her hands and took a swig, the brush of his fingertips against hers sending tingles up her arm. “Yes, I was a bit of a nerd. But my answer to your non-question was that one of the things I got a bit nerdy about was astronomy.”

“…Like star signs and horoscopes? I didn’t think you were the type.”

“That’s astrology Abigail, and it’s a completely made up science designed for fraudsters to scam people out of their money.”

“Of course you would say that. God you’re such a Capricorn.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means tell me about astronomy before I start asking you your time and place of birth.”

Groaning in exhausted displeasure, he ran a hand across his face and through his hair, disrupting the neat lie of the dark waves until they scattered across his head in disarray, making him look disheveled. It looked unnatural on him. As he moved to take another gulp of the vodka, she couldn’t resist reaching out and fixing it, soothing the wayward flyaways and restyling the ebony locks.

She caught his eye. He gulped. The breath caught in her throat.

She didn’t recognise the soft look that passed over his face before he stood up, the crinkling around his eyes and the creasing of his lips. It made her heart flutter in her chest. Not nervous, Abby had never been nervous around him. In fact, she was never usually anything but aggravated in his presence. She just didn’t have another name for the feeling.

Towering over her as he rose to his feet, he held out a hand for her to take. When she did, his hand warm and firm around hers, triggering lightning to ripple down her spine, he pulled her upright, catching her with a sigh as she stumbled slightly on her feet. A giggle tumbled out of her mouth. The strange, soft look on his face intensified and he shook his head in, annoyance? Astonishment? Wonder? Abby couldn’t tell anymore.

“Come on Abigail, I’ll show you.”

He escorted her to the floor-to-ceiling windows that covered the hotel’s external wall. Perfect for surveillance, Abby had said. Perfect for counter-surveillance more like, Townsend had grumbled back. Abe had told them both to shut up, both men ignoring the childish way Abby had stuck her tongue out in victory when the senior agent had sided with her anyway. She was pulled to a stop in front of the glass, face nearly pressed up against it with his warm body hovering close to her back, hand still firm around hers. When he leaned down to whisper to her, she could feel his breath dancing across the shell of her ear and infecting her brain, making her dizzy.

“You see that star there, the brightest one?” The hand holding hers reached up towards the window, pointing her own finger in the general direction of the stars. All she could do was hum in acknowledgement, slightly distracted by the waft of a woody scent coming from him, by the scent of his cologne. “That’s the-”

She took a guess, just to annoy him. “North Star?” In the reflection of the window, she caught him grin down at her ever so slightly. Huh. Not quite the annoyance she was aiming for.

“Is that the only one you know?”

“That depends. Is there a South Star?”

“Not really. There’s technically a southern pole star called Polaris Australis, but that’s just the closest star to the southern axis. It’s not as bright as the North Star so it never had the religious, mythological, or navigational associations as-”

“You’re losing me Townsend. I’m starting to see why you got beat up in secondary school.”

“I never said anything about being beaten up.” Her head lolled backward, an incredulous look on her face as she stared up at him. Though his eyes rolled at her mocking of his accent, at the cock of her eyebrow, he shrugged slightly in resignation, her head bouncing where it had sat against his shoulder. Grumbling an embarrassed whatever, he refocused her hand and eyes on the night skyline. “It’s called Arcturus; it’s the brightest in the northern hemisphere.”

The Latin came to her in a flash. “Guardian of the Bear.”

“Hmm. One of the Greek myths states that Arcas, a hunter, was the son of Zeus and a nymph called Callisto. When he was born, Hera turned his mother into a bear out of jealousy while Zeus hid his son in Arcadia. One day when Arcas was hunting, his mother saw him and went to embrace him, momentarily forgetting about her transformation. He went to shoot her, so Zeus turned them into constellations to spare them both from that fate. Arcas was turned into Boötes, the constellation made of Arcturus and these stars here.” He moved her hand in a small sweeping motion, gesturing to the rest of the constellation that she couldn’t possibly focus on when he was talking like that, voice deep and quiet.

“So less Guardian of the Bear, more, Attempted Murderer of the Bear.”

“Maybe they thought… Arctoccisor Incassum didn’t have the same ring to it.” Abby chuckled slightly at his fabricated Latin, catching his smile in the reflection of the window and shaking her head at him.

“So what happened to his mother?”

Townsend pressed his body even closer to hers, his unoccupied hand settling lightly on her waist to re-angle her slightly. The scent of him choked her, the heat of him burning through her clothes. She felt breathless all of a sudden, like he had spiked the drink they shared or planted a napotine patch on her while she was distracted by his story.

“She was turned into the constellation Ursa Major, just there, also known as The Great Bear.” Joined hands drifting to the left, he pointed at a new collection of stars near his original target, fingers shifting slightly each time he pointed out a new aspect of the constellation. “See the bright little scoop attached to the quadrangle? That’s The Plough, or Big Dipper as you Americans would call it. It makes up part of Ursa Major. The rest of the constellation is the two trails of stars leading upwards, and the pentagon to the left formed by these stars here.”

She cocked her head at it slightly. “Is it supposed to look like a bear? Cause it really doesn’t.”

“Well it’s upside down here- Don’t do that.” He grabbed both her shoulders from behind, spinning her slightly to face him head-on as she started to tilt her body in order to get a better angle. “You don’t have the stability right now to keep yourself upright should you start throwing yourself around.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” The protest was weak, her batting hands weaker, as the excessive abnormal movement really had made her feel a bit off balance.

“So, are you satisfied?” Abby could only give him a blank look, lost on what he could mean. The movement of his thumbs up and down her arms was very distracting. “My truth?”

“Oh!” The game they were playing suddenly came rushing back to her. “I suppose it’ll do, although I think I learned more about how Zeus and Hera needed marriage counselling than I did about you.” Although she couldn’t resist the teasing, shooting him a wink as she tilted her head to the side, a mischievous smirk breaking out across her face as his own settled into exacerbation, she wasn’t being completely honest. She had learned the way he smelt, the way his hands felt around hers. The heat of his body and the way her own quivered when his voice was lost in thought. She had learnt the softness of his eyes and the silk of his smile, the pounding of his heart against her back and the unsteady thumping of her own in her chest.

It wasn’t what she had asked after, but it was a lot more than she bargained for.

“Truth or dare Abigail?” She blinked at him, suddenly very aware of how close they were, of the breaths that left his lungs only to dance along her own lips. It made her dizzy. The smirk on his face, the raise of his eyebrows, the smugness in his eyes, made her furious. “It’s my turn right? Truth or dare?”

Cocking her hip out and tilting her head to the side, she assessed him. His broad frame and towering height, the deepness of his eyes and the effortlessness of his hair. Not one to back down from a challenge, Abby raised her own eyebrows, painted a smirk onto her own face. Eyes locked on one another, she shifted backwards slightly, his hands dropping to her wrists as she moved, searching for the oxygen he was depriving her of so she could think clearly again.

All so she could say something stupid.

“Dare.”

Initially giggling at the way his face went blank, Abby had to take a deep breath when his face went from stunned to uncertain, wide eyes darkening in the gloom of the starlight. He nodded to himself, lingered in the silence, taking his own deep breath to brace himself. For a moment, she saw his gaze flicker downwards, lingering somewhere around her nose, or maybe her chin, or maybe-

Her lips. He was looking at her lips.

She almost let him.

But in spite of their bickering, the way he grated on her nerves and never listened to a word she said, the was he way stubborn and egotistical and condescending even with his superiors, they were something almost like friends. She trusted him, at the very least, and she couldn’t say the same about many people. If he kissed her, that would change. She would ruin it, them, him. She was sure of it. Unlike her sister, she wasn’t destined for a happy ending, wasn’t built for an easy love that falls in her lap and soothes her aching soul. Abby wasn’t good enough for that. If he kissed her now, it would just be another in a long line of mistakes that she made without thinking, with no thought spared towards who gets hurt in the process. He was a good man. She didn’t want to do that to him.

Muscles tense, Abby looked away from him, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t do it, that he wouldn’t ask.

She wasn’t ready.

Hands gentle on her wrists, he gave them a quick squeeze before letting go, her gaze flickering back to him just fast enough to catch the regret in his face, something like hurt flashing through his eyes before they steeled over and he stepped back.

“I dare you to get some sleep, Abigail. We need to go over the plan for the dinner tomorrow.”

They didn’t. Several days had already been spent devising their operation plan, months of research from their respective agencies and weeks of surveillance and recon on the ground going into it. Abe’s approximate position and timestamps had been plotted nearly to the minute. Abby’s profiles on the other guests in attendance, on how to keep all of them distracted while Abe bugged the various targets in the mansion were meticulous. Townsend had insisted on backup plans, on fallbacks, on backup plans for their fallbacks. Their plan was flawless. There was no need to go over it.

Still. She had toyed with him enough tonight; he more than deserved the reprieve.

Nodding, she shot him the biggest smile she could muster as he moved to make his way out of the room. It still felt weak on her cheeks. “Merry Christmas Edward.”

He blinked at her, expression a picture of surprise as she addressed him by his given name. The smile on his face was kinder, gentler, than she had ever seen from him. “Merry Christmas Abby,” and he made his way out of the room, leaving her alone with the constellations in the window.

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Authors note:

4,500 words of Abigail Cameron having a major crush on Townsend, instalment #3, tipsy edition.

I knew nothing about astronomy going into this so a lot of research had to be done. If anyone happens to know things that goes against what I’ve written feel free to let me know.

Also, I don’t know if anyone’s read Beartown by Fredrik Backman, but there’s a quote that goes “You never have the sort of friends you have when you’re fifteen ever again. Even if you keep them for the rest of your life, it’s never the same as it was then” and it kind of inspired the spiel about Abby and her roommates from Gallagher, and how she lost those dynamics when they left school. It’s a great book, very much recommended.

[g-girlshavingfun]

He has good taste and that redeemed him

Remember when we didn’t like Edward Townsend?  Good times

[unladyboss]

SEASON 4 THE BEAR PROMOS SCREEN SHOTS. PART 2

Part 1

FRUSTRATED RICHIE with a newspaper. The review?

His apartment looks different

That's probably why he needed the hug

The Boys

Natalie and Marcus happy

Emmanuel Adamu and Sydney

Carmy

[jltonnere]

Gallagher Girls Dreamcast

Gabe Gray as Zach Goode

Shailene Woodley as Cammie Morgan

Kumail Nanjiani as Edward Townsend

Colbie Smulders as Abigail Cameron

Kieran as Elizabeth Sutton

Maisie Richardson-Sellers as Rebecca Baxter

Jamie Chung as Macey McHenry

Darren Barnet as Preston Winters

Paul Rudd as Joe Solomon

Miranda Frigon as Rachel Morgan Solomon

[lovingmilkshakeninja]

Gallagher Girls ships as Taylor Swift songs

Cammie x Zach - Afterglow

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

Liz x Bex - You Belong With Me

If you could see that I'm the one

Who understands you

Been here all along

So, why can't you see?

You belong with me

You belong with me

Macey x Preston - Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince

Ah, ah, ah

No cameras catch my muffled cries

I counted days, I counted miles

To see you there

To see you there

And now the storm is coming,

Josh x Cammie - Don't You

Hey, I knew I'd run into you somewhere

It's been a while, I didn't mean to stare

I heard she's nothin' like me

I'm sure she'll make you happy

Bex x Cammie - Dorothea

Hey Dorothea

Do you ever stop and think about me?

When it was calmer

Skipping the prom

Just to piss off your mom

And her pageant schemes

And damn, Dorothea

They all wanna be ya

But are you still the same soul

I met under the bleachers?

Rachel x Matt - We were happy

When it was good, baby, it was good, baby

We showed 'em all up

No one could touch the way we laughed in the dark

Talkin' 'bout your daddy's farm we were gonna buy someday

And we were happy

We were happy

Joe x Matt - I know places

'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Joe x Rachel - Everything has changed

Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"

And your eyes look like comin' home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Townsend x Abby - Style

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Townsend x Catherine - Illicit Affairs

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie

A million little times

[my-own-little-limbo]

I NEED MORE THIS IS TOO PERFECT

Spotify wrapped request for anything and everything Taylor Swift!

17. Question...? by Taylor Swift

This wrapped season is apparently all about the older generation. I’m not mad about it. Somehow all of midnights got in my wrapped in just a month (I’m insane) and when I saw this one on the list, I could not shake this idea. Do I get what Taylor is saying in half this song? No! So, here's what I made up! Hope you like it! 

There were few places in the world where a spy felt truly safe. The sign of a good spy (besides still being alive) was having at least one secure safe house and a favorite bar. It shouldn’t be your go to bar- no, that would be too obvious- but you should be recognizable enough to that one bartender that you can tell knows a bit more than they let on. (And, as a rule of life, never piss off your bartender.) 

So, Abby wasn’t alarmed when the chair next to her at the bar scraped against the wood floors. She didn’t look up when she felt someone’s presence next to her. She watched as her bartender glanced up at the person, addressed them as sir, and asked what he would be drinking. 

Abby smiled as she downed the last of her glass. It was the way the bartender had greeted the man that made her confident he knew too much. Without seeming out of the ordinary he had alerted her that it was a man beside her and that he didn’t appear to be a threat. 

It was when the man ordered his drink, albeit in perfect Russian, that the smile slipped from her face. Luckily her hair was obstructing both of their views of each other, but that couldn’t last forever. What the fuck was he doing there? 

The bartender slid the glass across the bar and the man passed him some bills in return. Abby got a flash of the watch on his wrist as it went by her face. Fighting the urge to groan she made eye contact with the bartender. He smiled and refilled her glass without a word. 

When he turned his back the man beside her cleared his throat. “So, Abigail,” he started, in English this time. Proper, pompous, English with that London accent that made her inexplicably angry. “What’s a good girl like you doing in a place like this?” 

“I hope you’re not insulting my bar,” she said, avoiding the question. She brought her glass back to her lips but didn’t take a sip. “I could ask the same of you, unless you’re here to drown my sorrows.” 

The man beside her chuckled humorlessly. “What sorrows would that be, my dear?” 

For a country known for how much they hated everyone they sure loved to throw around pet names. Abigail rolled her eyes and took a large drink from her glass, stalling. “Well, you are here. Alone. Bothering me.” 

“And that makes me sad?” 

“It’s a big city,” she fired back. “And you’re making the wrong choice.” 

Hell fell silent beside her, and she thought she might have finally gotten the last word with him. But then she felt a shift and his breath was hitting her ear as he spoke. “I don’t think so.” 

“Edward,” she started as she finally turned to him. The retort died on her lips as she took him in. There had been a reason she wasn’t looking at him. Her words could be as icy as his, but their eyes had this annoying tendency to melt around one another. 

Sometimes, Abigail swore they had something going on. That the number of times they’d ended up at the same place with nothing between them meant that there was, well... something between them. That the color he painted her nights was something she’d find if she just searched for a little harder. 

She did find it. Every time one of them came back to the other. 

But that was just it. It was one thing after another with them. Some fucking situation or circumstance beyond just their work that led to miscommunication that neither of them would address. They were too similar, both too stubborn to be the bigger person and get out of their own way. So those miscommunications led to fall outs until they ended up in a position not unlike the one they were in right now. Where Edward would smile at her like he’d won a prize by getting her to look at him. Or maybe he was smiling because if he’d won that meant she’d lost. 

“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” she told him. She went back for her drink but found it empty. Once she set it on the counter it was refilled but it was enough time for Edward to take the opening. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he complimented, taking her off guard. “You look well.” 

Abby scoffed. He wasn’t wrong. Her little black dress was the exact kind of thing you wanted to be wearing when you bumped into a guy like Edward Townsend. It was certainly doing its job, she realized, as she watched him spend a little too long looking at her crossed legs. 

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but you seem to have that covered,” he continued, gesturing to her never empty glass. Abby smiled coyly, taking another sip and Edward took the invitation to keep his turn in their game going. He reached down and turned her barstool, making her face him. Abby watched the motion carefully, her eyes going up from his hand and forearm to his bicep and chest, concealed by his shirt he’d pushed up to the elbows and unbuttoned at the top. “What’s it going to take to get you to talk to me?” 

Abby raised her eyes to his face. His voice had lowered to ask his question, almost the way he spoke when he was mad at her. No, not mad. Frustrated. Needy, almost. She smiled, innocently. “Beg,” she said, simply. 

Shockingly, Edward cracked a smile at that. He leaned against the bar, chuckling as he went back for his own drink. “Maybe later,” he told her. He looked at her over the glass and she could see it in his eyes, him rising to her challenge. 

“Fine,” she said. She uncrossed her legs and leaned closer to him. “But only because I’ve got you here and I’d like some explanations.” 

“Explanations?” Edward repeated. An amused smirk was tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh oh, about what?” 

“The last time I saw you.” 

Edward raised his eyebrows, feigning confusion as to what Abigail might be talking about. Before he could even try to open his mouth and deny anything, she spoke again. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Anything,” he assured, a gleam in his eyes. 

“Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room?” Abigail’s eyes scanned the room the two of them found themselves in currently. “And every single one of your friends was making fun of you?” Her eyes cut back to him, and she was surprised to see he had the decency to look a bit conflicted about her questions. “But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? Then what did you do?” 

“Abigail-,” he tried to cut in when she took a drink. 

Her glass came back down on the bar counter. “Yes?” 

“That night was a surprise to me as much as anyone else.” 

“Yeah,” Abby agreed, “A bad one.” 

“Why do you care?” he questioned. “You had your own company, if I recall correctly.” He knew he did. He’d never admit it, but Abigail and her dickhead male friend had been on his mind quite heavily that night. 

Abby scoffed. “I’m surprised you realized. Considering you were on something that night.” 

“So were you,” he reminded her. “It was one drink after another for you. But then, isn’t it always?” he teased her, glancing at her glass. 

“Don’t call the pot black, kettle,” she told him, hitting her glass against his. “You were caught in your usual tirade of politics and gender roles and ‘you’re not sure’ and ‘I don’t know’,” she went on, mocking him. She wasn’t entirely wrong. If you got Edward and Abigail in a room together for long enough, they were going to argue about those exact topics. 

“Have you ever considered that I may just like to have a conversation with you?” he asked. “It doesn’t have to be an argument.” 

“Yes, it does,” Abby denied while also seemingly proving the point. She watched as he groaned and drained the rest of his drink. “You didn’t answer my question. Then what did you do?” 

“Abigail-,” he tried again, not looking at her. 

“Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?” 

“No,” he managed to get an answer in. 

“Oh,” Abby responded, looking down into her drink. “Did you wish you’d put up more of a fight?” 

Edward looked her over, wondering if she was being intentionally vague or maybe just had a few too many tonight. “Yes.” 

“Oh,” she said again. He couldn’t tell based on her reaction if he’d given the right or wrong answer. “When she said it was too much? Do you wish you could still touch her?” 

“Abigail,” his tone was a warning. 

“It’s just a question,” she said defensively. Somehow, they’d both said too much but not enough. Silence stretched out in front of them to the point it was almost unbearable. It was her that inevitably cleared her throat, freeing them from it. “So,” she started. 

“So,” he echoed. 

Something about the way he spoke always set her off. Or maybe she had had too many drinks. She turned to him, smirk on her face. “Does it feel like everything's just, like, second best after that meteor strike?” 

Edward scoffed, which ended up turning into a chuckle. “Really, Abigail?” 

“What?” she asked. “I heard you’re still with her.” 

“Where did you-?” 

“That’s nice. I’m sure that’s what’s suitable,” Abby said. “And right. But tonight...” she trailed off. 

“Tonight?” Edward asked. He placed a hand on her knee, getting her to look up at him. “I think maybe it’s my turn to ask you the question.” 

Abby looked down at his hand on her skin. “Are you sure about that?” 

He turned his smile back on her as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Come on, Abigail. It’s just a question.” 

[heliotropehotch]

dumbass - a.h. x reader

A/N: ty to @bucksgoat​ and pinterest for the idea for this fic

words: 1663

author: abby

warnings: gunshot wounds, breakups, mention of death (haley, its very brief) (ends in fluff!)

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Garcia asked, panicked, opening her office door for her best friend. 

“I can’t keep pretending like I’m not in pain,” she leaned against the door, sliding town to the floor. “I can’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt.”

“What did he even say to you?” Y/N shook her head, tears clouding her vision. 

“I thought if I acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t. But I was wrong. In the back of my head all day, I’ve just been thinking about what happened and what I could’ve done differently and it’s eating me alive, not being able to understand what was so horrible about me that he didn’t want me anymore,” she cried pulling her knees into her chest. “Penny, he took my lungs from my chest and now I’m suffocating.”

“Have you told any of this to Hotch?” she knelt down, putting a hand on Y/N’s knee. “Maybe if you just talked it out, he could explain-”

“I don’t know if I can handle that,” she sighed. “I can’t handle him looking me in the eyes and telling me I’m not good enough. God, you should’ve seen the look on his face; he was disgusted with me, repulsed.”

“Y/N, Hotch-” she began before being interrupted by a loud banging on the door. 

“Garcia,” his unmistakable voice rang out. “We’ve got a case, meet in the briefing room in 15.”

Y/N sighed, untensing her body as the familiar gait of his walk faded away, she looked again at her best friend, with soft, sad eyes. 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you,” Garcia’s eyes welled up. You gave her a sad smile.

“I’m headed to Strauss’s now to ask for a transfer. This’ll be my last case I think,” she stood up, dusting off the back of her suit pants. “I love you, Pen. Don’t cry okay? I’ll still come visit you.”

She walked out the office, head high as she traveled to Strauss’s lion’s den. Meanwhile, Penelope Garcia stormed to the briefing room, with a head full of anger and tears. Morgan’s eyes went wide from the window of the briefing room. “Uh Hotch?” he pointed at the bright woman whose face might actually blow. “I think you’ve got a storm coming.”

Aaron looked up from shuffling files in his hands, eyebrows in their constant furrow, the door swung open, causing a look of shock to grace his features. 

“Babygirl,” Morgan tried to calm her, but she blatantly ignored his words.

“Hotch, sir,” she began with steady breathing. “You need to do something.”

“Garcia, it’s really not any of your business,” he sighed. 

“See that’s where you’re wrong,” he raised his eyebrows. “Don’t give me that look. It became my business once you became the reason why my best friend is transferring.”

“She’s what?” he asked softly in disbelief.

“Whoa, babygirl,” Morgan once again tried to intervene. “What are you talking about?”

She ignored him again. “I thought I knew why you did it but obviously not. What did you even say to her?”

Hotch looked down, ashamed. “Does it matter? If she hates me, then I’m not hurting her.”

“That’s the point!” Garcia all but shouted. “She doesn’t hate you. She absolutely and completely loves you. What she hates is herself,” she muttered the last part out.

“Wait she’s-”

“She’s questioning what the hell is wrong with her, is what she’s doing,” Garcia stood straight. “Sir, you have my complete and total respect one hundred percent of the time and what I say, I mean with that respect still here, but you were a total dumbass.”

Before he could see anything, the familiar clack of Y/N’s heels headed up the stairs. With a final look, Penny moved to sit down next to Morgan, who was still looking at her like she had grown a third eye. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said sheepishly, barely loud enough for Hotch to hear it. She sat down next to Garcia, who’s hand immediately found hers in a comforting grasp. She noticed the eyes of her teammates on her, but refused to look at Hotch’s face. If she had, she would’ve seen guilt and worry. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she quickly swept under her eyes for stray tears. 

Hotch cleared his throat, distracting the team long enough to begin the briefing.

In West Virginia, in the Monongahela National Forest, a man had been capturing and killing people for sport. Both men and women in their early thirties had been picked up from the side of the road as hitchhikers and then taken to a small cabin to be literally slaughtered like animals. 

Now, at the residence, the team had the location surrounded, vest doting each of the members. Y/N entered the cabin, her gun drawn and focus centered on finding the unsub, with Hotch, Morgan, and Emily behind her. She found herself in a musty office, covered in old newspapers and various taxidermied animals hung on the walls.

In a recliner, sat an older man (as they had profiled) rifle drawn and aimed at her. The latest victim, Amy Townsend, was tied across the large wooden desk. 

“Richard,” Y/N said calmly. “I need you to put down your gun.”

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” she grimaced at the nickname, as his arms tense and focused on his aim. 

“Your father used to take you hunting, didn’t he?” she asked, lowering her weapon. “He taught you everything you know.”

“And what of it?” he barked out. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she said calmly. “Not like he did.”

“You don’t know anything!” he shouted. The creak of a floorboard behind you signified someone else’s presence entering the room. Morgan attempted to make his way around to Amy. Richard’s eyes followed him.

“Hey, look at me,” Y/N redirected. “He’s just here to help her.”

“Bullshit.”

“We’re not going to hurt you Richard. Not if you just lower the gun and come with me. We just want to help.”

“Where were you to help when I was growing up?” he scoffed. “Where were you when my mamma had passed out from the pain?” he shouted, finger tightening against the trigger of the rifle. “Nah, I’m done with you. I’m done with liars.”

“Richard, don’t-” her voice was cut off by the blast of the gun hitting her shoulder. Morgan shot off a round, rendering the unsub. 

“Medic!” he shouted, running over to her as Emily rounded the corner and darted to Amy to help her. “Y/N, stay with me. Hotch! Where the fuck is the medic?”

“Morgan,” she got out, limply putting a hand against the one’s holding pressure on the wound. 

“Hey hey,” he hushed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. A gurney and EMTs began to crowd you. “It’s okay. Medic’s are here, we’re gonna take care of you.”

“Morgan, where’s Y/N-” Hotch’s words tied at the end of his tongue, finding her bloodied and weak form, eyes beginning to close. “Y/N?” 

To the best of her abilities, she turned to look at the man who had recently torn her heart out. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. And then her vision faded to black.

The rhythmic steady beeping of machines was the first thing she became aware of. Secondly, the sore, scratchy feeling in her throat. Then the warm fingers tightly wrapped around her own. 

A dark-haired head laid against the bed over folded arms. It wasn’t hard to imagine whose. With a grimace, she pulled her hand from his, causing him to sit up straight in his seat. Tired eyes met hers for the first time in what had felt like weeks. 

“You’re awake.” he noted softly, as she took in his face. Tired eyes, dark circles, worry lines ever so more prominent. 

“You’re still here,” her hoarse voice said. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

“Sir,” the formality made him cringe. “Where is the rest of the team?”

“Out in the waiting room,” he sighed, moving closer to her. He didn’t ignore the way her body tensed. “Y/N we should talk.”

“Now?” she chuckled sadly. “I’ve only just woken up and you want to do this now?”

“Don’t transfer.”

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “How did you-” she stopped herself. “I’m gonna kill Garcia.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Then what exactly did you mean to do?” she asked, angry now. “Because packing up your things and saying ‘we’re not right for each other’ definitely hurt, Aaron.”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he sighed again. 

“Protecting me? From what?” his eyes were sad as they searched hers for the right words to say. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Y/N-” 

“From yourself?” she sighed, reaching for water. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know that. I’m sorry,” his voice shook as he looked to the ground ashamed. 

“Aaron,” she said softly, putting a hand on her cheek. “I’m not her.”

His eyes searched yours once again, tearing up. “I almost lost you today. I thought maybe if I could let you go, I could keep you away from all the danger I bring with me.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Aaron,” she smiled. “I chose this danger long before I chose you. You were just a bonus addition.”

He chuckled, kissing the palm of her hand. “Please forgive me, love.”

“I forgave you the moment you left,” she hummed. “But if you ever even think about doing that shit again, I’ll have Garcia personally beat you up.”

He chuckled again, “Understood. What about Strauss?”

“Strauss,” her confusion was evident once more, before chuckling herself. “I hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to her yet. Guess I’ll have to deal with your dumbass just a bit longer.”

[rachelsquill]

Working on some Townsend/Abby art for Gallagher girls ship week ;^) //i will digitalize this later today or tomorrow I think//

[wiseguysolomon]

More Abby x Townsend headcannons pleaseeee

Five months of hiatus later… you ask, and I deliver. I’ll be posting very soon, and in the meanwhile, keep the requests coming!

[chillnursey]

Please I beg for Abby x Edward Townsend where Abby’s ignoring him in the car because she found out about Catherine

binch.......who are you. where do you come from with this ancient request, i don’t even know how to help you, neither of them talks for the entire ride!! it’s a silent treatment of epic proportions!! edward townsend is collapsing on the inside because abby’s quiet which is the worst thing possible because she’s loud when she’s angry and frustrated and annoyed but she’s quiet when she’s hurt.......

[gildengirl]

"On the Tarmac, Agent Townsend whispered something to Abby, then squeezed her hand and kissed her softly when he didn't think we were watching. But we're Gallagher Girls. To tell you the truth, we're always watching."

- Ally Carter, United We Spy

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

1) Warm Tequila - Abby x Townsend

Set about 5 years after the events of UWS, Abby and Townsend explore the Christmas markets in London. (2,121)

———————————————————————

“What do you think?”

Edward’s gaze, previously locked fiercely on a group of young men armed with black puffer jackets and overpriced beer not-so-discretely leering at any and all women who happened to pass them by, jumped back to his wife at her inquisitive tone.

Blinded momentarily by her smile, he took a moment to simply stare at her. Dark hair half-buried under her woolly hat fell in waves around her face made pale by the cold. The dusting of freckles that decorated her nose and cheeks, the pattern that was engrained in the memory of his lips, that he knew better than he knew the features of his own face, were buried under the redness of her nose, the pinking of her cheeks. Emerald eyes twinkled with mischief, alight with joy and the reflection of the Christmas lights lining the market stall they stood beneath. Her smile spread far beyond her mouth. From the whites of her teeth, ever so slightly crooked in the back of her mouth in a way that no one could see but Edward knew intimately, to the stretch of her lips, chapped from the cold but soft all the same. From the rounding of her cheeks and the scrunching of her eyes, to the giggle in her shoulders and the bounce in her toes. It spread beyond her even, reaching the tips of his tingling fingers and filling his chest with an adoring warmth. Slight lines cut through her face, a lifetime of her smiles carving brackets around her eyes, and more than a lifetime’s worth of pain slicing through the skin above her forehead. She wasn’t quite the 24 year old he met in Romania, nor the woman just beginning her 30’s he fell head over heels for in Buenos Aires, but here amongst the London gabble, browsing through tat in Leicester Square’s Christmas market, less than a year from entering her 40’s, he was still absolutely certain of what he first decided all those years ago.

Abigail Cameron was undoubtedly the most gorgeous woman in the world.

Remembering that she asked him a question, he kickstarted his brain back into motion and finally registered the monstrosity she was holding out in front of him. It somewhat resembled a winter hat, though it just as easily could’ve been an overfed cat for all the fur lining the inside. It was a sort of vomit-green colour, equipped with a red bobble on top and matching ear flaps on the sides. Adorning the face of it was the likeness of that thing from the Christmas film Abby loved so much, a similar vomit shade of green with a devilish grin and light-up yellow eyes. The Grinch, he remembered.

Fighting valiantly against the smirk that tugged against his lips, he quirked an eyebrow at her. “You already have a hat Abigail.”

Her grin grew, delighted in his indulgence of her antics. “Not for me silly!” She tapped her card against the reader held out to her by the man working the stand, flashing him a smile that seemed to stun him to the spot.

Edward could empathise.

Reaching upwards, she yanked the garish hat unceremoniously onto his head, adjusting it slightly so  he could still see, and giving his cheeks a patronising pat before her arms settled around his shoulders.

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon Townsend you need a winter hat. You lose most of your heat through your head you know-

“Actually that study was debunked a few years ago.”

“-and this one suits you perfectly!” It was getting hard to focus on what she was saying. Her fingers were dancing across the back of his neck and playing with the curls of his hair slipping out the back of the hat. “Besides, what would your mother say if she knew you were wandering around in the freezing cold-

“-It’s only 5 degrees love.”

“-freezing, without a hat on?”

“Well she’s from Carlisle, so she’d probably be ashamed that I’m wearing a coat.”

“Yeah I don’t know what that means.”

And then she kissed him.

It was a short kiss - too short - but it made him go weak in the knees, the ankles, the heart, all the same. His hands latched onto her waist and pulled, grunting slightly as she let herself go weightless against him, feeling her smile into his mouth as he lost himself in her. When she moved to pull away, his entire body seemed to chase her. Tightening his arms around her back, arching his neck down towards her face, his nose brushing up against hers in a desperate attempt to keep their lips attached. Laughing, she pulled away anyhow, leaving only her fingers on his shoulders, the tip of her nose against his jaw, her breath sweeping across his neck.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she pouted, uttered a single “Please?” and he was gone.

“Fine.”

Anything to get her to kiss him like that one more time. All the time. For the rest of time.

Again, her lips were warm on his, a stark contrast to the state of her fingers now running down his spine from under the collar of his coat. One of his own hands crept upwards, cupping the back of her head and soothing through the silk that was her hair, the other migrating around her back, encircling her in his arms like he could keep her there forever. Cherry danced across his tongue, the scent of jasmine tickled his nose, symphonies of all the sonnets ever written cascaded through his ears. All his senses were engulfed by her. It was all he could do to contain his love, his elation, his-

Giggles broke them apart. Not his wife’s this time, but a trio of preteen girls hovering nearby. Abby turned and smiled kindly at them, no sign of the embarrassment that danced across his own cheeks, and he couldn’t help the bashful smile that broke across his face.

“Ah ha!” Quick as anything, she had pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of his love-stricken grin, ignoring the pained groan that crept out of his mouth. “What? Its just for Zach. And your parents. And maybe Rachel and the girls, they think you never smile you know?” Walking backwards, perfectly navigating the crowds of tourists despite never breaking eye-contact with him, her hands travelled down his arms until they intertwined with his own, pulling him along with her through the market stalls once more.

“As long as Solomon never sees it.”

“Eh, no promises.” Another groan. “C’mon grumpy, you can buy me a drink to cheer yourself up.”

“How will that cheer me up?”

“Because maybe I’ll find a way to pay you back.” With a wink that made his heart stutter and all the blood and heat in his body rush somewhere very not appropriate for their current circumstances, she spun on her heel and tugged him more urgently towards the pop-up bar. “We’re trying the Poppins special.”

Once he regained control of his wits, he glanced up at the menu boards. The usual festive drinks were on offer, mulled wine and cider, Irish coffee and hot chocolates, even Prosecco for those willing to fork out £15 a glass. There were tamer options as well for those less in the Christmas spirit, beer and larger on tap, plus every spirit and mixer known to man, but of course Abby had opted for one of the themed cocktail specials. Cleverly, they had devised a different drink for each of the famous statues dotted around the market, including a kid-friendly option named after Paddington the bear, and Edward quickly focussed his vision on the one named after the illustrious nanny.

“Tequila? Who drinks hot tequila?”

“You in about 5 minutes.” She gave him a gentle push to the middle of his back, tone growing impatient, “Large please.”

“I don’t know why I have to have it as well.” Protesting even as he held out his card to the bartender, nodding in polite acknowledgement of his sympathetic smile. “I’d be much happier with a whiskey.”

“Well that wouldn’t be very Christmassy-“

“Not a word.”

“-yes it is! would it? Besides, you’ll like this.” Abby near-always spoke with confidence, even when she was blatantly wrong and knew it, but her absolute assuredness gave him pause.

He turned to face her, eyebrows furrowing, “How do you know?”

“Uhh because I know you dummy?”

“No, how do you know I’ll like it if you don’t know what it tastes like?” Eyes flickering downward, she bit her lip slightly, humming in thought. Edward huffed in disbelief. Of course she managed to sneak off and treat herself. “When? We’ve been together the entire time?”

“You were very distracted staring at the jewellery over there,” she jutted her head towards the adjacent stall and he followed her gaze. The table was adorned with floral rings and earrings, bracelets and hairpieces, the necklaces displayed behind the woman manning the station. It wasn’t extravagant stuff, though the advertisement claimed they were made of real flowers, and nothing that Abby would ever wear, but while he had already bought gifts for his side of the family, he had little planned for those back home. He had been eyeing a charm bracelet for Cammie, after all these years still uncertain if it was the kind of gift a man bought his niece-in-law-slash-almost-daughter-in-law, and he must’ve been debating it for longer than he thought. Abby’s voice broke through his musings once more. “She’s very pretty isn't she?”

What?

“What- No!” He spun back around to face her, a sliver of panic gripping him as he realised he was staring at the stand, lost in thought, and the woman attending it was smiling back at him. Abby only laughed at him though, throwing her head back and quelling the brief dread of a fight that had started building in him.

Taking her drink from the bartender in one hand, her smile of thanks igniting a flush across the young mans face, her other reached up and threaded through the hair on the back of his neck in apology for her teasing. Retrieving his own drink, he huffed in forgiveness, removing the aforementioned icicles from his neck and placing a small kiss to her fingers as he led them away from the bar.

“How come I get bullied into wearing this hat-“

“I would call it gentle encouragement.”

“—but you’re allowed to lose your fingers to frostbite by not wearing gloves?”

“Because how am I supposed to show this off if I’m wearing gloves?”

Taking a generous drink of the warmed tequila through her smirk, she released his hand to hold her own out in front of them, wiggling her fingers until her ring caught the twinkling of the lights around them. Reluctantly, he conceded the point to her, recalling the number of times today that she had caught the attention of onlookers, their eyes drifting from her face to her left hand in resigned disappointment. Edward could feel his own ring, his most prized possession, cool around his own finger, and smiled. He hadn’t taken it off since he officially stepped out of the field and into a desk position at Langley, his bad knee from all those years ago finally getting the upper hand on him, but the novelty of being married to this woman had yet to wear off.

“Right, bottoms up or whatever.” He rolled his eyes at her attempt at an English accent. “Seriously, just try it.”

In a mirror image of her, he raised the plastic glass to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate gulp.

Bloody hell, he hated it when she was right.

The burn from the tequila was tempered by the warmth of the drink itself, and challenged by the zap  of orange and lemon dancing down his throat. It was thick and had a hint of sweetness, no doubt containing an unholy amount of honey, but the bitterness of aniseed balanced it out well. Hints of cinnamon and nutmeg danced on his tongue, and he was suddenly struck by the question of whether he could taste the spices on hers.

“See, you love it.” Another laugh bubbled out her mouth at his reluctant affirmation, mirth streaking across her face as she shook her head in astonishment. “When are you gonna learn that I’m always right hey?”

Sending another gulp down his throat, he set his drink to the side, grabbing hers while he was at it. Ignoring her protests, he pulled her in by the waist, desperate to learn the answer to his own question. But first…

“I love you.”

He kissed the smirk straight off her face.

———————————————————————

Authors note:

There you go, there’s roughly 2000 words of Tabby fluff and Townsend being a major simp.

Apologies for British nonsense, but unfortunately, much like Edward Townsend, I too am English. For those not cursed with the insider knowledge, Carlisle is a city pretty far north in England, hence being used to the cold, the wind, and the rain. Leicester Square is a square in London near the West End where they have a popular Christmas market every year. It’s next to the cinemas where they hold movie premieres so theres loads of statues of famous British entertainment figures like Paddington, Mary Poppins, and Mr Bean.

[hollywoodages-blog]

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Rose Byrne Biography

Mary Rose Byrne born July 24, 1979 is an Australian on-screen character. Byrne influenced her screen to make a big appearance in 1992 with a little part in the film Dallas Doll. In 2000, she assumed a main part in the Australian film The Goddess of 1967, which brought her the Volpi Cup for Best Actress. From 2007 to 2012, she played Ellen Parsons in the satellite TV arrangement Damages, which earned her two Golden Globe Award and two Primetime Emmy Award designations. Alongside co-star Glenn Close, she showed up in the greater part of the show’s fifty-nine scenes. Byrne has additionally featured in the movies Troy, 28 Weeks Later, Knowing, Insidious, X-Men: First Class, X-Men: Apocalypse, and also the comedies Get Him to the Greek, Bridesmaids, The Internship, Neighbors, Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising, and Spy. Byrne was conceived in Balmain, a suburb of Sydney, New South Wales, and is of Irish and Scottish plunge. She is the little girl of Jane, an elementary school chairman, and Robin Byrne, a semi-resigned analyst and economic specialist. She is the most youthful of their four kids; she has a more established sibling, George, and two more established sisters, Alice and Lucy. In a 2009 meeting, Byrne expressed that her mom is a skeptic, while both she and her dad are rationalists. Byrne went to Balmain Public School and Hunters Hill High School before going to Bradfield College in Crows Nest. She later moved to Newtown and Bondi. She started taking acting classes at age eight, joining the Australian Theater for Young People and later went to the University of Sydney. In 1999, Byrne considered acting at the Atlantic Theater Company, which was created by David Mamet and William H. Macy. Byrne was involved with Australian author, chief and performing artist Brendan Cowell for more than six years. Cowell moved from Sydney to New York City, following Byrne’s prosperity on Damages. The relationship finished in January 2010. In 2012, Byrne started dating on-screen character Bobby Cannavale. The couple have two children together. In February 2016, she brought forth their child, Rocco. She and Cannavale had their second kid together, child Rafa, in November 2017. Starting at 2013, Byrne lived in New York and said she stays shaky in regards to a steady profession: “I don’t feel that frailty ever abandons you. You’re a specialist. There’s dependably a component of vulnerability.” See Rose Byrne Height Weight & Movies List, Tv Shows Below.

Rose Byrne Personal Info.

Full Name: Mary Rose Byrne

Nick Name: Chabs, Rosie

Family Members: Robin Byrne (Father) Jane Byrne (Mother) George Byrne (Older Brother) Alice Byrne (Older Sister) Lucy Byrne (Older Sister)

Education: Rose attended Balmain Public School and Hunters Hill High School in Sydney, New South Wales. Subsequently, Rose studied at Bradfield College in Crows Nest. Later, she graduated from University of Sydney. She also studied acting from Atlantic Theatre Company, and Australian Theatre for Young People.

Date of Birth: 24th July, 1979

Birthplace: Balmain, Sydney, Australia

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Religion: Agnostic

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: Australian

Profession: Actress

Measurements: 32-23-33 in or 81-58.5-84 cm

Bra Size: 32B

Height: 5′ 6¼” (168 cm)

Weight: 117lbs (53 kg)

Eye Color: Brown – Dark

Hair Color: Brown – Dark

Dress Size: 2

Shoe Size: 8

Boyfriend/Dating History: Gregor Jordan (1999-2002) – From 1999 to 2002, Rose dated Australian movie chief, Gregor Jordan. Brendan Cowell (2003-2010) – Rose dated on-screen character Brendan for just about seven years beginning from 2003. They split in mid 2010 because of long separation relationship. They even spent the majority of their seven years living on the contrary side of the nation. Bobby Cannavale (2012-Present) – Since August 2012, Byrne is dating American performing artist Bobby Cannavale. Bobby affirmed the relationship amid a discourse in Emmy Awards 2013 function, when he was getting a honor for “Extraordinary Supporting Actor in a Drama Series” class.

Known For: The Goddess of 1967, Bridesmaids, Damages, X-Men: First Class

Active Year: 1994 (present)

Friends: Abbie Cornish, Nadia Townsend

Favorite People: Kate Moss (Fashion Idol)

Favorite Foods: Cheese

Favorite Singers: Bob Marley, Elvis Presley, Fleet Foxes, Fleetwood Mac, Pat Benatar, Ryan Adams

Favorite Actor: Jack Nicholson

Favorite Actresses: Cate Blanchett, Glenn Close, Judy Davis, Juliette Binoche, Susan Sarandon, Toni Collette Film

Year Title 1994 Dallas Doll 1999 Two Hands 2000 My Mother Frank 2000 The Goddess of 1967 2002 Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones 2002 City of Ghosts 2003 I Capture the Castle 2003 The Night We Called It a Day 2003 The Rage in Placid Lake 2003 Take Away 2004 Troy 2004 Wicker Park 2005 The Tenants 2006 Marie Antoinette 2006 The Dead Girl 2007 Sunshine 2007 28 Weeks Later 2008 Just Buried 2008 The Tender Hook 2009 Knowing 2009 Adam 2010 I Love You Too 2010 Get Him to the Greek 2010 Insidious 2011 Bridesmaids 2011 X-Men: First Class 2012 The Place Beyond the Pines 2013 I Give It a Year 2013 The Internship 2013 The Turning 2013 Insidious: Chapter 2 2014 Neighbors 2014 Adult Beginners 2014 This Is Where I Leave You 2014 Annie 2014 Unity 2015 Spy 2015 The Meddler 2016 Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising 2016 X-Men: Apocalypse 2017 I Love You, Daddy 2018 Juliet, Naked 2018 Peter Rabbit

Television

Year Title 1995 Echo Point 1997 Fallen Angels 1997 Wildside 1999 Big Sky 1999 Heartbreak High 2000 Murder Call 2005 Casanova 2007–2012 Damages 2013 Portlandia 2013 Hollywood Game Night 2016 Last Week Tonight with John Oliver 2016 No Activity 2017 The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

See Also: Danneel Ackles Body Measurements

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[jltonnere]

Me: Finish your Macey/ Preston project.

Also Me: Release the secret chapter of All's Fair.

Guess which I did. You can find it here.

[beautyinsteadofashes]

Any RA fan think he would make a good Agent Townsend