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smurphyse · 2 years ago

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Contraband Conversations

Chapter 7 of Operation: Sand Leopard

Warnings: canon typical stories, child brides, mentions of child abuse, mentions of masturbation, cute flirting that'll make your heart burst

Summary: Spencer gets to talk to Alijah again, and he gets very defensive of her. Later, you share some contraband in the darkness outside your CHU

As Spencer followed you through the base, he could see your agitation growing. Your shoulders stiffened with each step, your jaw tightening the closer you came to the prison barracks.

Something about Alijah bothered you. You carried her with you, and he could tell. As hard as you were on her, affection for the girl seeped through your skin whenever you spoke of her. Even when you were angry, your eyes were soft for this child and all she'd been through.

Spencer wondered if your strength exhausted you, if that was why you couldn't sleep at night. You seemed haunted each night you sat outside your CHU and stared up at the moon, a frown etched deeply across your face and your mind heavy even though you were sitting on the ground.

You rarely seemed to release, your body always coiled so tightly your bones surely must feel the weight of it. He thought idly how long it would take before you finally snapped.

When you approached the prison barracks you waved for him to continue on, then plopped down to rest against the sandbags.

Spencer frowned and looked down at you, "You're not coming?"

You shook your head and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of your pocket and set them on your nose. In a sweaty t-shirt and dirt stained pants, you lounged against the wall and looked up at him, "I'm taking a nap."

"What do you want me to talk to her about?"

You shrugged, "You're the big bad profiler, Doc. Earn her trust and learn something about her."

Spencer sighed as he dug through his pocket for his badge. He hated these damned cargo pants. There were too many places to lose things in them.

Flashing it at the guard, Spencer walked through and to Alijah's cell. He opened the door as lightly as he could but the squealing creak made him wince.

Alijah was reading from an aging book as he stepped inside, and she broke out into a smile.

"Spencer," she said as she shut the book and set it on the cot. "You came back."

Spencer grinned down at her as he made his way over to his spot on the ground. He sat on the concrete and laced his fingers together, resting his wrists on his knees, "What are you reading?"

She flashed him the cover, another little mouse with a sword on the front. It was one in the series of books you'd given him, written in English. Spencer frowned and asked, "I thought you didn't speak English?"

"A friend taught me to read i-," Alijah started, tapering off as her eyes widened along with her smile. "I thought you didn't speak Kurdish!"

Spencer smiled sheepishly, "I learned so I could talk to you."

Alijah's gaze turned wary, and she picked at the corner of the book, much like you often did to things when you were nervous. "What about?"

"Anything you like," he replied, and the nerves visibly eased from her. "What's your favorite color, Alijah?"

Alijah smiled shyly, "Green. Like the trees on Kuhe Haji Ebrahim."

"The mountains?" he asked, and she nodded happily.

"It's near where I grew up, next to Iran."

"Is that where you met Sayeed?" Spencer asked lightly.

Alijah's eyes clouded with obvious fear, welling with a layer of tears. She looked down as her chin wobbled, "I don't want to talk about him."

Spencer sighed. She was so fucking young. Every teenage abuse victim he'd met filtered through his mind, alive and dead, and he had to remind himself that Alijah was who needed him right now. He'd left the BAU behind… This was his mission now.

"What was your favorite thing to do back home?" he asked instead.

Alijah met his gaze, chewing on her cheek as she tried to figure out his game. Spencer simply smiled back at her, keeping his limbs loose and open so she could see he was just there to get to know her. He'd leave the real interrogations up to you.

"My father raised sheep," she said softly, a smile playing on her young face as she let the memory wash over her. "We spent days with them in the fields. They were very sweet, but they smelled bad. I didn't mind."

"Do you miss the sheep?"

Alijah nodded, and she sniffled a bit. "I miss my father, too."

"What about Sivan? Is she at the mountain?"

Alijah frowned, "She's with Sayeed."

"I want to find her, Alijah," Spencer told her earnestly. When she looked up at him, she searched him for deceit, but he knew there was none to be found. "I want to bring her to you. I don't want Sayeed to hurt her."

"He loves her," Alijah insisted, and it broke Spencer's heart. "He will find me and bring me to her."

"What if you didn't have to go back with him? What if you could go somewhere else?" Spencer asked firmly, "What if there was a better place than with Sayeed?"

"Don't tell me lies and get my hopes up," she snapped, and it made him flinch away. Her dark eyes turned hard, her little jaw set tightly. "I don't want to be lied to anymore."

"I'm not lying, Alijah."

"Then you are a fool," she muttered, shaking her head. "They lie to you too."

"Alija-," he started, but she interrupted him.

"I'm very tired," she whispered, "I would like to take a nap."

Spencer clicked his teeth and sighed, but decided it was better to do as she wished. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and as he passed her he slowed, "I'll see you tomorrow, Alijah."

She said nothing, simply covered herself with the blanket and laid down in a huff. Spencer nodded to himself and let himself out.

As he came out of the barracks he spotted you lounging against the sandbags, your mouth hung open as you slept in the desert heat. Redness patched its way across your cheeks from the sun, and with your sloppy hair and dirty clothes he might have thought it cute, but he was angry that Alijah felt lied to.

He kicked your boot, and you woke with a start, your hand flying to your waistband as you looked around frantically. When you noticed him frowning down at you, you let out an annoyed grunt.

"The fuck is your problem?" you growled as you got to your feet. You swiped your hands down your pants before setting them on your hips.

"Alijah says you lied to her," he gritted through his teeth.

You took a step back and frowned, "I haven't lied to her. You need to take a chill pill dude, you're way too pent up."

"She's a kid, Y/N, in a cell. You really wanna joke with me right now?"

You made an exasperated face and let out a long breath. Your face turned dead serious, but then you asked, "Are you this stressed because you haven't masturbated since you got here?"

"No! I'm not stress-," he started, waving his hands. He let them flop uselessly at his sides as you shook with restrained laughter, "how do you know if I've masturbated or not?"

You giggled, nearly doubling over as a tear formed in your eye. You waved a hand as the other clutched your stomach, "You seem like the type. I bet you don't even screw in hotel rooms."

"You're fucking nuts, you know that?" he snarled, completely unenthused by you. Spencer turned on his heel and stomped off, but you quickly followed behind.

"Okay, okay, okay," you said quickly as you rounded him. Your hands landed on his chest when he tried to push past you, the cool leather of the journal bleeding through his shirt, and he glared down at you and your ruddy cheeks, trying not to admire the way laughter looked on you.

"I'm sorry, okay? You can't be so serious all the time, Doc, it'll fuck you up." Your eyes were open and earnest, so he stood still, but he crossed his arms so as not to give in too quickly.

You grumbled to yourself and made a face, "I didn't lie to her. Someone else did, but he didn't mean to."

"Who?" he asked sharply, and the laughter was gone in an instant.

"Doesn't matter, he's dead," you replied, and your hand was still on his chest. That damned perfume wafted from you and glued him to his spot… because again he didn't want to stop smelling it. "Point is, I'm not lying to her. I wanna get her to the States. Her and Sivan."

Spencer kept his eyes on yours, doing as Alijah did and searching for deceit. You had those fucking eyes, though, and that fucking perfume, and all he wanted to do was believe that the things you said in the dust were true.

"You swear?" Spencer asked slowly, crooking his brow at you.

"I swear," you promised, and for some reason that was all it took. "I've got a plan and everything."

Spencer uncrossed his arms and brushed back his messy hair with his hands, "Maybe that is why I'm stressed."

Your face scrunched up, "What?"

Spencer broke out in a shy grin and chuckled, "I haven't masturbated yet. It's probably why I can't sleep."

Your eyes turned to saucers as blotchy redness crept up your neck and over your face. You finally seemed to realize you were still touching him, and he could've sworn you let your fingertips graze down his chest a bit as you pulled them away.

"You should… probably take care of that," you said, the flustered look on your face delighting him. He hadn't thrown you off center before… he liked it.

"I think I will," he replied, flashing you a megawatt grin. He pushed past you and went off toward the CHUville, doing everything in his power not to look back at where you stood in the dust.

He could feel the weight of your gaze between his shoulder blades until he turned a corner, waltzing tall and confidently toward his bunk.

Spencer did exactly what he said he was going to when he stepped back inside, and it was all he could do not to think of that blotched shyness in your cheeks as he did so.

When he wondered what you thought about, it may have pushed him over the edge faster than he expected.

He wondered if you thought about him.

---------------

Spencer tried to sleep. After his round of self love that afternoon he should have been able to.

Desperately, he tried to let himself drift off amongst the dull explosions and pittling gunfire in the distance, hoping they would lull him to sleep.

Tonight they weren't the issue. Alijah's face wouldn't leave him. Each time he closed his eyes her cautious gaze showed up to haunt him until finally he sat up and glared at the door to his CHU.

His skin was damp with sweat, his hair stuck uncomfortably to his neck. The quilt you'd given him was tangled around his ankles, and it was too hot to put on a shirt but he did anyway.

He grumbled to himself as he snatched his belt from the footlocker, slipping it into the loops and headed outside for some reprieve.

The Iraqi night was hardly cooler than the day had been. The only relief from the sun beating down on his shoulders all day was the fact that the moon offered a dimness one could mistake for lighter weather.

Stomping out of his CHU, he spotted you just outside the door, looking caught as you looked up at him from your seat on the concrete. You were writing in the journal, and you closed it slowly. There was a crinkling sound as you pushed something behind you, and he found himself smiling.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked lightly.

Your cheeks were puffed out as you smiled sheepishly and chewed. You spoke through a mouthful of food as you said, "Cookies."

You pulled a sleeve of Chips Ahoy out from behind you and held them up as you swallowed thickly around the mush. Spencer took it and sat down next to you and plucked one out before handing it back.

"I think this is known as 'contraband,' Agent," he chuckled before popping it into his mouth. Spencer found himself holding back a moan as sweet chocolate melted on his tongue, and he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cooling metal of the trailer.

You took a swig from your canteen, then handed it out to him. Normally, he would have cringed away from sharing something as simple as a drink with someone, but for some odd reason he took it without thought.

"I'm a rebel, always have been," you laughed lightly, nearly giggling as you snagged another cookie from the sleeve. "I hide these in my footlocker for nights when I need a bit of home."

"Rough day?" he asked. You handed him the cookie, not realizing how much he adored you for it. After a week of mushy potatoes and bland food, chocolate and sugar were like a gift from heaven.

"You have a day here yet that wasn't?" you asked back, cocking your brow at him.

Spencer clicked his teeth and laughed a bit, "Fair point."

"Mail day's good for ya, Doc, gives you something to look forward to."

As Spencer watched you pick at the plastic sleeve, something shifted in his chest. The lights poured over your forehead as you looked down, casting your eyes in shadow but illuminating the higher points of your face. Your cheekbones and the cupid's bow of your lips were highlighted in moonlight, your cheeks and neck carved in by darkness.

It was then that he finally saw the damage. The things that these places had done to you. They took away pieces of your flesh until all that was left was the cut out skeletal frame of your body. So much darkness with so little light fighting its way to the surface.

"What do you look forward to?" he asked quietly, and he bumped your shoulder with his just to make you look up so your eyes shone in the dusky night. He wanted to see all of you, just for a moment.

They glittered for a moment as the heady weight of something flowed over you, but you quickly blinked it away. You broke out into a slow grin that set his chest aflutter and waved a cookie at him.

"I have this window in my apartment," you murmured softly, but happiness was alight in your face. "It's like a set of french doors but it's about two feet off the ground. It leads out to the balcony, and I've got all these fairy lights and a couch out there."

You leaned your head against the CHU and beamed at him, and Spencer couldn't help the smile that crept across his cheeks in return. Popping a cookie in your mouth, you continued on without caring that it was full of chocolatey goodness.

"I spend all summer out there. Reading, drawing, knitting, whatever I'm into at the moment. I can see the city and my neighbors hanging clothes out on lines, sometimes grilling on their own tiny little balconies and going about their lives."

You seemed to lose some confidence, instead going back to picking at the plastic again as you swallowed. Your voice wavered as you spoke again, "I just… exist out there through the seasons. A leaf in the forest."

Spencer made a face, "You said that when Mercer punched me. What does it mean?"

You scrunched up your face in embarrassment, and Spencer could have sworn your cheeks turned a bit red. "It's a quote from Angela Carter. 'Among the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in the forest?' My… someone read it to me a long time ago and I've never gotten it out of my head."

"I like it," he whispered. Your eyes met his again, and when you smiled it was like one of your walls came down right in front of him, and one of his couldn't help but crumble to dust. "That's how I felt in prison… like I was too small and too fragile for everyone around me. If one person stepped on me I'd crunch into a million pieces and who would I be then?"

Your lips parted slightly, and when you swallowed you licked your lips. It left a shining to reflect in the moonlight, too delicate and bright for a place such as this.

"Did anyone… were you…" you started, backtracking and looking down as you thought. "Did you crumble?"

Spencer didn't realize how close he was to you until he felt your breath fan across his face. Chocolate and coffee filled his damaged nostrils, accompanied once more by the light flowery fragrance of your perfume and making him want to follow you anywhere just to smell it again.

He nodded, "I broke."

"Who are you now, then?" you asked, hardly above a whisper, watching him so intently Spencer might have fallen into the pool of your irises and drowned.

He swallowed heavily, only slightly aware of the chocolate melting in his hand. "Someone gluing himself back together."

You laughed bitterly, louder than he expected, and it startled him. You leaned in closer to make up for him sitting up and winked, "You got some glue to spare, Doc?"

Spencer found himself laughing with you, and he popped the cookie in his mouth and shook his head, "I barely have enough for myself, Agent, find your own."

You bit back a smile, your nose so close to his one twitch would bump them together. Your gaze was soft as you watched him in the darkness, "I'm sure there's something around here to help me patch myself back together."

Smiling at you in the dim light, the moon hanging above as the only witness to this act of the gentle cracking open of your chests, a part of himself seemed to heal at the same time. You were a kindred spirit. Just how much so, he didn't know yet, but something told him that sitting here with you was exactly where he was supposed to be.

"Yeah," he said, "me too."

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Notes: Please let me know what you think! Feedback and comments are what fuel the fire for this story! <3

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 4 years ago

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Going Forward

Howdy y'all! Allos (@verybadpaleontologyjokes) here!

Thank you to everyone who watched our stream, participated in presenting on our stream, and donated to our stream! We collectively dontated a total of $4624 USD to the National Bailout, the Bail Project, BLM, and Ranowo!

While this weekend and stream is over, the work of supporting black lives continues on in the form of education and advocacy. My particular soapbox is focused on the geosciences, because that is where I have gotten (!!!) my degree, and many people who pursue paleontology education will find them in geology departments around the world.

In the United States, the STEM fields struggle with including racial minorities. The geosciences are the least racially diverse of all STEM fields, with almost 90% of all doctoral-level degrees given to white academics (see 1 in the links). This link talks about reasons for why this may be, but a fundamental part of it is the colonialist and racist history of geology. Black people in the United States have been systemically blockaded from pursuing STEM fields as a consequence of exclusion from academia in general, and indigenous communities were displaced by colonization that made the early days of American paleontology possible. It is the duty of non-black paleontology stsudents and enthusiasts to educate themselves on the racist history of geology and paleontology, as well as to promote anti-racism within themselves and other people.

Below, I have linked several resources and articles discussing anti-racism and the racist history of geology specifically. While I do not have any specific links for biology (which is a crucial part of paleontology), many of the statements said within the following links apply to biology as well. The very first one is blacklivesmatter.card.co, which I recommend as a general source for information. Link 1 (mentioned earlier) is a Nature article talking about racism in the geosciences written by Dr. Kuheli Dutt from the Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory at Columbia University. Links 2 and 3 are compilations of combatting racism in geosciences. Links 4 and 5 are news/media articles on geosciences' lack of racial diversity. Link 6 is a Change.Org petition pushing for GSA, AGU, and other major geology bodies to issue statements on increasing and promoting racial equity within geology. The last link is a link to the National Association of Black Geoscientists, which I highly recommend people look through to get more familiar with black geoscientists.

If you are just starting to understand how racism, and especially anti-black racism affects the scientific community, welcome! There is always time to learn, and there is always time to improve. We're glad you're here. For those of you who have been doing this for a while, we're glad to have you still!

Black lives matter, black lives are wonderful, black lives are excellent, black lives are everywhere, and black lives are crucial to our communities.

Be excellent to each other,

Allos.

LINKS

blacklivesmatter.carrd.co 1) https://www.nature.com/articles/s41561-019-0519-z 2) Bryn Mawr Geology and Colonialism Readings: http://mineralogy.digital.brynmawr.edu/blog/geology-colonialism-reading-list/ 3) Geo Reading for Equity: https://www.georeadingforequity.com/ 4) EGU blog on being black in geosciences: https://blogs.egu.eu/divisions/gd/2020/06/10/black-in-geosciences/ 5) NYT: Earth Sciences Has A Whiteness Problem: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/12/23/science/earth-science-diversity-education.html 6) Change.Org petition: A Call for a Robust Anti-Racist Action Plan from All Professional Geoscience Societies and Organizations https://www.change.org/p/geoscientists-call-for-a-robust-anti-racism-plan-for-the-geosciences 7) The National Association of Black Geoscientists: http://www.nabg-us.org/

#Black Lives Matter #Dino Nerds For Black Lives #Palaeoblr #Birblr #Sciblr

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