#so signal boost so no one else has to go to the hospital in the middle of the night

[rjalker]

Hey my mom had to find this out the hard way and had to go to the hospital for it so here's a thing probably no one will tell you about the keto diet:

If you take Xyrem (sodium oxybate or gamma hydroxybutyrate), abruptly cutting out all carbs from your diet will increase the effectiveness of your medication multiple times.

So now your normal dose? Will act as though it's doubled or tripled.

Do I have to explain why this is extremely dangerous? Especially when people have no idea what's happening?

Do not start any specialized diets until you've consulted with a specialist who is an expert on your specific, highly controlled medication. Not just a general doctor who's probably never heard of it before and is gonna wave it off as totally fine without a single second of research.

Talk to other people who use your medication and see if they've ever had problems with the diet you're contemplating.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: September 20/24

Happy Friday everyone!! It's a super special one today, as it marks the END OF YEAR FIVE OF WEEKLY FIVE FICS FRIDAY POSTS!!!

That's TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY LISTS FOR BOOSTED FICS!!!

I can't believe I've done this for five years weekly, and I hope you've enjoyed them all that time! I'll post up the masterlist tomorrow for Year Five, so in the interim, make sure to give this week's fics some love! Enjoy!

SIGNAL BOOSTING

Debris by Monkeysock (M, 15,094 w., 14 Ch. || First Person POV Alternating, Case Fic, Sherlock Whump, Flashbacks, Guilt, Waiting, Hospital, Angst) –Sherlock becomes trapped under a load of debris when a building collapses on top of him. He waits for rescue. Everyone is different, they only know what they know. In the aftermath, everybody has a story to tell.

RECENT MFLs

Little Slices of Death by Enterthetadpole (E, 994 w., 1 Ch. || Friends To Lovers, Horror, Humour, Happy Ending, Case Fic, Romance) – Sherlock Holmes gets involved in a case where the victims and crimes that are eerily similar to the works of a certain horror author stories. Will he solve the case before the people around him die around him?

I Meet You There, and We Go by irisbleufic (E, 6,370 w., 4 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Aftermath of TGG Pool Scene, Grief/Mourning, Supernatural Elements, Established Relationship, PTSD, Neurodiversity, Disability, Character Death) – "I dream of what it's like," [Sherlock] says with difficulty, and the words taste right in spite of the fact that everything else tastes wrong, "when we leave this place." John is quiet for an unbearably long while (too quiet: no humming, no breath) before he lets his forehead drop to rest against Sherlock's, smudge of ash and grit and sweat mixed with something far too heavy to be tears. He presses one hand over Sherlock's heart, and there's warmth again. The promise dazzles him. It stings. "What's it like?" asks John, finally, his voice thick with the promise of rest.

The Scientific Method by NovaWasTaken1 (T, 11,883 w., 1 Ch. || THoB Divergence, Doctor John, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Headaches / Migraines, Sick Sherlock) – Dosing former drug addict Sherlock Holmes turns out to be just a little more complicated than an aerosol spray. An AU of Hounds of the Baskervilles, in which Sherlock's reaction to being drugged winds up being a little more than an anxiety attack.

Secondary Exposure by thesardine (T, 18,841 w., 7 Ch. || Whump, Tags to Be Added) – After twenty years, the killer who abducted John as a child has resurfaced. Now John and Sherlock must track him down before he claims another victim, and at the same time navigate the shifting nature of their relationship.

[reasonsforhope]

Heads up/warning that I'm going to start posting articles related to the Israel-Palestine War

I've worked really, really hard to keep my blog about positive news only, and that's going to continue - these posts will be only about good news related to the war.

Of which there really, really isn't much, so I don't know that there will be a lot of posts, but I will be posting articles about humanitarian aid reaching those who need it and actions that will prevent more lives from being taken.

I know that, no matter my position on the war, this is something that would be very controversial and make a lot of people upset, so I wanted to be explicit about my position on this - and my posting policy, which is not the same thing. I also wanted to give people a heads up because I know the war in general is really, really triggering for a lot of people right now, for a lot of different reasons. I'll be tagging all relevant posts, so if screening those out is something that you need to do, you can.

I have worked very hard to make this blog a space with only good news because I know how much it can matter to have just one place, if nowhere else, that you can count on to not give you emotional whiplash with horrible news. To know you have one place you can go where you are guaranteed not to see bad news that will send you into a tailspin. That's why I've had a policy of not including signal boosts or PSAs about tragedies, no matter what they are, on this blog. (I do post about some of that stuff, including the Israel-Palestine War, on my main blog, though. I consider this blog to be me trying to run a public service, basically, and so have specific policies for myself around that, including my editorial and fact-checking standards.)

I'm going to be honest, I was really, really hoping the war would end after a couple of weeks, which has historically not been uncommon for wars with/involving Israel.

But that's clearly not happening, and I can't keep not acknowledging what's happening on here, so, this post.

With that, I imagine people probably want to know my actual stance on the war, since that's what I'll be posting in accordance with.

So, here's the official stance of this blog:

Every time a civilian is killed, it is a tragedy; Every time a child is killed, it is a tragedy, no matter their nationality. I condemn all antisemitism and all Islamophobia.

I support all calls for a ceasefire, as well as demands that Israel immediately stop its repeated bombing of hospitals, ambulances, shelters (including UN shelters), and refugee camps.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of hospitals is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of shelters or refugee camps is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of ambulances is justified.

There is no situation in which the killing of children is justified. Yet more children have now been killed in Gaza than in all global conflict zones combined in each year since 2019.

There is no situation in which cutting off an entire country and/or territory's supply of food and water is justified.

Yes, this applies to every group involved in the war, including countries supplying either side, and any countries or non-state organizations who may yet join the fighting.

The initial Hamas attack on Israel was a tragedy. The continued Israeli bombardment and invasion of Palestine is also a tragedy.

Most of the things I post will be about aid reaching Palestinians or news about tangible, confirmed progress toward a ceasefire. I probably will not be posting good news posts about aid reaching Israel, unless it's explicitly and only humanitarian and/or barring drastic unforeseen changes in circumstance. This is because as of yesterday, November 7, the Palestinian death toll is over 10,000 to Israel's roughly 1,400 (only about 200 of whom have been killed in the past month, starting on October 8, aka outside of the initial attack by Hamas). At least 3,195 children have died in Gaza, 33 in the West Bank, and 29 in Israel.

The Palestinian death toll is nearly 8 times the Israeli death toll. The number of children killed is 110 times higher in Palestine than Israel. (Source for death toll here, ratios via calculator.) Every single one of those deaths is a tragedy - and there have been far, far too many tragedies this past month.

(On a related note, Israel stands very, very little chance of actually eliminating Hamas with this war. The US has attempted this same strategy and failed many times: the US failed to eliminate the communist/North Korean regime in the Korean War, which is technically still ongoing 70 years later; failed to eliminate the Viet Cong in the Vietnam War; failed to eliminate numerous groups of Iraqi insurgents in the Iraq War, which triggered Iraq's civil war; and failed to eliminate the Taliban in the Afghanistan War, even though that war lasted for literally 20 years. Afghanistan is once again under total Taliban control.)

The last thing we need is another 20 year war. The last thing we need is more civilian deaths. Bombing civilian settlements, as well as hospitals, shelters, and refugee camps are war crimes under international law, meaning that both Israel and Hamas have committed war crimes.

It's time for the war crimes to stop.

Humanitarian aid reaching civilians is good news, and I will be posting accordingly.

Ceasefire now.

[ljreflet]

It has been confirmed that the Lahaina fires has been one of the deadliest fires in US history in over a century.

Wildfires in Hawai’i are incomparable to wildfires in California—Maui is an island, and all important necessities like gas, water, food, etc. has to be flown over and there are less hospitals overall.

I’ve contacted all of my friends from Maui, and even my former college professors, and out of all of them, only one of my friend’s managed to be lucky enough to keep their homes. One of my friends lost both their family home over 30+ years and their business.

I’m grateful to say among my friends’ families, no lives were lost, but everything else was.

So I’m reblogging this again to both signal boost what’s going on and to ask you guys to please donate.

Aloha.

I'm unsure if I have mentioned this before, but I am from Hawai'i and if you've been keeping up with the news, you may be aware of the fires that have decimated Lahaina in Maui.

While I am from another island and most people I know are safe, I have many, many friends from Maui and they and their families have been directly affected by the fires--some of my close friends have even lost their homes.

So I am currently asking for you guys to consider donating to the many organizations and even personal GoFundMe's so these families, my friends, can find relief and recover.

Here's a few links to help support Maui:

‘Āina Momona Hawai'i Community Foundation Nā Wahine Toa Maui Mutual Aid Guide (Resource List, not donation)

[eris-snow]

Family

Tags: Midoriya x fem!reader, pregnant, hospital

Family is something precious.

You lay on the hospital bed, stroking your round tummy as you prepare to give birth to your 3rd child.

Deku checked you in yesterday because he was sure your water was going to break soon, and the doctors had confirmed his calculations by allowing you a bed in a shared ward.

The lady you're rooming with is pregnant too, but her situation is entirely different from yours. It's as if there's a party going on at her side of the ward. There were family, friends, extended relatives and so many more people you can't count that it made you feel like you were invading her space.

You suspected that this was her first child, considering how loud they were being, the raw excitement in the soon-to-be mother voice and the lack of screaming children.

On your side of the room sat your lonesome self, stroking your belly as you whispered soft coos to your unborn child. You weren't bothered by the noise as it gave you something else to focus on. However, on the off chance that you did look up, a pitied gaze was all you can see from the lady on the bed.

Her gaze was sympathetic as if saying, aww you poor thing, no one to celebrate with you, as her friends gushed about her very first child ever so loudly

You paid no mind to her.

You were content, and no matter how many of those looks she threw you, you wouldn't let her get you down.

"Mummyyyy!" Tiny footsteps thumped one by one into the room, making your head turn to the doorway. Your adorable 4-year-old stumbled in, arms outstretched high in the air with a heart-winning smile on her face.

"Is Mummy okay? Hiroko-chan's in there, right?" Your sweet girl has the most adorable voice, her tiny hands pressed against your stomach gently as she stands on her tiptoes to attempt to climb onto your bed.

"Kumiko, sweetheart, I told you not to run off without Papa, right?" A tuff of green hair pops into view by the doorway as Midoriya steps into the ward. His hair is in disarray, eyebags prominent under his eyes, but his smile was so bright it looked as if he was practically glowing. In his arms was your sleeping two-year-old, fast asleep against your husband's chest.

Your eldest blinks at her father, processing his words before bowing her head in shame. "Sorry, Papa," She apologised. The Number 1 hero smiled, bending down to ruffle his daughter's hair. "Don't do it again, okay?"

Nodding her head vigorously, Kumiko patted the mattress of your bed, signalling for help to get her on it to join you under the covers. With a small boost by Midoriya, the four-year-old successfully climbed onto the bed and curled up right next to your tummy.

"Hey, Y/n," Midoriya greeted softly, directing his attention towards you now. "How you holding up, hun?"

You mirror his smile, gently stroking your daughter's head as you meet his eyes. "Good. You?"

Midoriya blows out an awkward chuckle,

You raised an eyebrow. "Kids' got you running all over the place again?"

A nod from the blushing broccoli boy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw people on the other side of the room with their jaws hanging ajar as Midoriya leaned in for a kiss.

You reciprocated happily, tasting the sweet flavour of comfort that you'd missed in the hospital.

The once looks of pity had turned to envy, seeing how the Number 1 Hero had chosen you as his partner for life.

But that wasn't the only thing that caught their attention.

The woman's eyes were fixated on your little girl, eyes wide with curiosity as she pressed her ear against your womb. "Hiroko-chan~" She sang, kissing your belly. "Onee-san's waiting for you...come out soon, okay?"

"'Zuku, could you draw the curtain for me?" You whispered, eyes wandering down to check if your youngest was still sleeping. "I'd like some time with just my family."

[edisacornball]

This is Allegro, Ed's spouse, and I'm afraid that I have some unpleasant news. Ed had a serious breakdown and had to go to the hospital again. I'm literally crying over this, heh. It breaks my heart to see him like that, especially since he was kind of mad at me for sending him to the hospital in the first place. But it was the only way I could think of to keep him alive, even if he hates me for it.

I don't really know how to take care of myself with him gone, admittedly. I'm autistic and not very functional most of the time, so it definitely scares me to think of trying to keep myself sheltered in the motel somehow while I wait for Ed to return. It costs about $115 per night at this point in the year. I am absolutely terrified. If anyone is willing and able to help me with that while Ed is away at the hospital, or help me by signal boosting this post, it would all be extremely helpful. I don't know how long Ed is going to be away, so I don't know how much help to actually ask for. All I can say is that it costs $115 per night, and I will happily take anything that anyone can offer.

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and thanks for being there for Ed all this time. I wish I didn't have to deliver such news, heh. I hope things will be better by the time he gets out, but I guess that we'll just have to wait and see. Thank you for being so supportive of him and his writing though. It has meant a lot to him, and has been one of the few things that has kept him going. He's in a critical state at the moment, but I'm hoping that he'll be able to work on his fanfics again once he gets back, since that means so much to him. Only time will tell though. I'm just so sad and scared today, and I just don't know what else to do at this point.

[raindropsonwhiskers]

Hi there! I know that this is really out of the blue but im asking for a favor or some help w/ my cats current medical needs. Please if you have an extra time to boost/share it for us so that we could get some traction or it could reach more people, it would definitely help a ton! I understand if its not okay, Im so sorry for taking some of your time and I wish you to be safe and healthy always, xx.(Please considering answering my ask privately or probably hit me a msg if its fine! 😭🙏

This is far from the first time I've gotten one of these, and I'm feeling spiteful, so I'm going to walk through why this is almost certainly a scam, for anyone who isn't already aware of these.

This is the pinned post on the blog:

It was made at 1:17 AM EST today, Jan 31st. Based on the timing and phrasing of this post, the emergency happened last Tuesday, as the poster seems to be in Montana and thus made the post at 11:17 PM on Monday. The vet hospital (VSS West) and the group Shelter Friends do exist, though Shelter Friends seems to be exclusively a "shelter assistance and networking group whose purpose is to help homeless pets find rescue or adoption" (their website).

They claim their cat is being held until they can pay the bill (pictured at the top of the pinned post, ~1600 USD) in full. This is a red flag, since as far as I'm aware, no respectable institution does this. Additionally, the timeframe on pickup seems uncertain - it goes between "picking him up tomorrow" and "cleared to come home by the next couple of days".

No goal amount is listed, nor is there any sort of tracker. This is extremely strange, since almost every signal boost/mutual aid/etc post I see these days has the OP pretty much constantly updating how much they have left to go. Not being upfront about the amount needed, or how much they already have, is a decent red flag for a scam.

They say they haven't made a GoFundMe because it takes too long and takes a fee. However, VSS West's website says payment is due upon service (see screenshot). Therefor, they must have known about the price for at least 5 days (assuming wiggle room from last Tuesday to the time of the pinned post) and - more importantly - they should have already paid for the surgery.

But let's say they delayed the payment and... used their pet as collateral or something. Here is a screenshot from GoFundMe's website:

So the fee bit is bullshit, too.

Now that we know why the scenario is a whole bunting's worth of red flags, let's tackle the blog itself. The earliest post is from 1:08 AM EST, Jan 31, 2023. AKA today, 9 minutes before making the pinned post.

The URL directly references the cat, Tonka, so surely the blog was created to be about him. It can't be a sideblog - those can't send asks. It could be an alt account, but why make one just for your cat's health emergency and then reblog ATLA posts, posts about the new Mighty Nein animation, and some random aesthetic photos?

And this is just me being pedantic: the name in the header, Nicolai, doesn't match the Nicole used elsewhere. On the bill in the pinned post, the name Susan appears in the client field, just before the blacked out phone number.

But even assuming this person did genuinely decide to make a brand new blog on tumblr and try to crowdfund for their cat, there's a few more red flags around the message itself.

1) This blog has never once interacted with me before. Not shocking since it was made less than 24 hours ago, but still. Not even a follow before sending me a scam? Rude.

2) They ask that I reply privately or via DM. This is very suspicious and VERY convenient for a scammer, because it's harder to provide evidence of the scam when nobody else has seen your correspondence with them.

3) They asked a random niche Doctor Who blog to signal boost them. Of all the demographics, Doctor Who Extended Universe shitposting was the one some desperate person worried for their cat chose? Yeah, right.

All that being said, I hope this post helps people be more aware of these sorts of scams in the future. There are a lot of genuine posts looking for help with their pets, too - but those posts come from real people with established blogs, who aren't sending demanding asks to strangers, aren't trying to hide how much money they need/have already, and aren't trying to take advantage of people. Always do some due diligence before donating to a cause; the worst that can happen is you spend a little time looking through someone's blog and find that they're a real person.

[whovianfloozy]

Epi Pen PSA -- could save a life!

In addition to my breast cancer, I have the joy of multiple autoimmune diseases. One of them causes me to have anaphylaxis to myself, so in addition to the bi-weekly cancer chemo I receive monthly Immunotherapy. They will not administer it at your appointment unless you have your Epi Pens with you, because the Immunotherapy itself can cause anaphylaxis and you may need it on the ride home.

I had Immunotherapy Monday, and as the chemo fog has fried my brain, I decided to get out my box and check on when my Epi Pens expire while I was sitting there for my 30 minute post delivery observation, My Nurse noticed me looking at the box, and I told her I was checking the expiration date.

She walked over and told me the date I was looking at was only the expiration date of the prescription, not the actual Epinephrine syringe. Where I live, pill bottles and the like typically say "Drug Z, Filled 1-2-33,Good until 1-2-34, 5 refills expires 1-2-34" so Drug Z was good for a year and so was the prescription.

The tag on my Epi Pen box said "Filled 4-10-19 Expires 4-10-20"

She told me that Epi Pens were different, the tag on the box was the date for the prescription expiration only. The medication, the actual Epinephrine expiration dates were only on the syringes themselves. She then proceeded to open the box, remove the sheaths, open them and remove the syringes, and show me the expiration dates.

My Epi Pens had been dispensed in April 2019, and had expired in July of 2019. My Epi Pens, on which my life might depend, had expired SEVEN FREAKING MONTHS AGO. They had had a lifespan of three months.

I was angry, and horrified. They immediately sent a new scrip to my pharmacy of course and I thanked her for telling me as it potentially could have saved my life. I also asked her to inform every single patient who came in that office, and she will.

She told me that every single time I pick up an Epi Pen prescription, immediately go sit in one of the waiting chairs, open up the box, and check the dates on the syringes. If it's not a year, go back up and demand they take them back and order new syringes with a one year life span, as typically we are renewing them with a few days lee way either way once we know the true expiration date..

If for some reason they refuse call your insurance company and they should raise hell. Apparently this is legal because when the pharmacy gets a scrip and orders the pens, the manufacturer is not sending expired merchandise. And of course, if there's an issue, the consumer didn't fulfill their responsibility to check the expiration date.

Two years ago, I anaphylaxed alone at home. It progressed fast, and as soon as I unlocked the front door and called 911, I delivered a pen through my jeans into my thigh. It didn't stop the progress. They gave me a dose of Epi, and a giant dose of steroids in the ambulance, and they met us with an intubation kit at the hospital.

The responders and Docs in the ED at first were wondering if I had delivered the pen properly of course, but as they quickly removed my clothes they saw the syringe bruise and the drop of dried blood right in the right place. For the remainder of my hospital stay they couldn't figure out why the Epi Pen hadn't stopped or at least slowed it down. That's what they do, they don't reverse it.

Now I look back and wonder. I had tossed the used pen in the trash immediately, and thrown out the other in it's box when I came home from the hospital with a new two pack. What if the syringe I had used had expired six or seven or nine months before? What if my new kit had expired four months later?

I am furious, and frightened for those who don't know, I've already contacted my best friend for her husband, and my niece for her little girl. I will be contacting my GP to see if he knew this and every one else I know eventually, and asking them to spread the word.

Check your Epi Pens, tell every one you know, and please signal boost this and REBLOG IT to spread the word. 

Thanks guys, and be well. Love  xXx

[wangxianficrecs]

❤️live from new york by varnes

❤️live from new york

by varnes

E, 87k, wangxian

Summary:  Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”

“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”

He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.

“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”

-

OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.

My comments:  This was sooo funny, ohmygoodness, but also chock full of pining and withheld communication and stupidly sacrificial idiots. Author juggles an ensemble cast flawlessly, and everyone's personality shines in the rawest and most shamelessly hilarious way (I saw someone comment that they were all feral, which suits). Story is most often lwj POV (he and wwx are co-head writers) and this boy is SO IN LOVE, but doesn't want to damage what he's got, so he stays silent (mostly). Their relationship drama is subsumed in the utterly hectic week that leads up to a Saturday show (Sunday is off, Tuesdays have a hallucinatory never-ending feel, Fridays are actually much busier than Saturdays).

Excerpt 1:  There is no “end” to Tuesdays. There is Tuesday, and then later Tuesday, and then midnight Tuesday, and then timeless Tuesday, when it stops being nighttime but isn’t yet morning, and then eventually the sun is up and it’s not Tuesday on the calendar but it’s still Tuesday spiritually, because no one has slept and everyone is all hopped up on caffeine and cigarettes.

Excerpt 2:  Some funny bits: 

“Laughter is the best medicine!” Wei Ying wheedles. “Come onnnnn, Lan Zhan, I’ve been rotting away for months and months, if someone doesn’t let me get a joke on TV in the next twenty minutes I’ll die. I’ll literally be forced to fling myself out of the Jiang family’s beautiful bay windows, and on the way down I’ll shout, ‘This was avoidable! This is because Lan Zhan wouldn’t let me punch up the promos!’ and then you’ll be fired for secondhand murder and it’ll be a tragedy like the sketch comedy circuit has never seen.”

Lan Wangji says, “Second-degree.”

“What?”

“Murder. Not secondhand.”

Wei Ying furrows his brow. “...I’ve heard it both ways,” he says. “That would make a good detective show spoof skit, though. Secondhand Murder.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. “Murder She Wrote, but an idiot.”

“Keeps suggesting a series of increasingly implausible manners of death,” Wei Ying agrees, scribbling on the back of the takeout menu. Yanli and Lan Wangji share a look. “All the deaths are like — incredibly obvious and she goes buckwild with her theories anyway.”

“Police keep asking her to leave.”

“I want to be one of the victims,” Yanli says. “Put like, a sword right through my chest, but I’m still alive, telling the cops what happened, and she’s still like, ‘No no, that’s what the murderer wants you to think.’”

“Gruesome! Love it,” says Wei Ying, making a note.

Excerpt 3:  some just plain esoteric turns of phrase:

Lan Zhan mutters, “Wei Ying,” in that voice of his. He says Wei Ying eight million times a day but never the same way twice. A mood ring of Wei Ying. Wei Wuxian wants to be fully dead about it, wholly and completely excused from this earth because of how Lan Zhan says his stupid name.

“Lan Zhan,” he sing-songs back. “Ah, Lan Zhaaaaan.”

Excerpt 4:  Some gut-punches: 

Wei Wuxian wants bruises; Lan Wangji wants scars.

_____________________

ETA: There's a Sequel!

It's 19k of sheer delight as our boys go to the courthouse to get hitched... only to find out they've been married for the past 3.5 years. How. How did this happen? Wwx points out that they've never had anything but married sex which is very responsible and traditional of them. But still. How do you get accidentally married???

Excerpt:  “How are you so chill about this,” Wei Wuxian demands, turning his face into Lan Zhan’s palm and kissing it at the center. “I feel like someone just informed me that everyone else on the planet except me has two dicks, and you’re just like, tralala, dry cleaning.”

“It’s easier for me,” says Lan Zhan, very tenderly. “I’ve always had two dicks.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, helplessly. “Lan Zhan.”

modern au, SNL au, saturday night live, humor, comedy, pining, FOREST OF PINES, light angst, lots of jokes, ensemble cast, feels, oblivious wei wuxian, oblivious lan wangji, idiots in love, slow burn, lack of communication, self-sacrificial idiots, flirting, getting together, everyone ships it, top lan wangji, bottom wei wuxian, roommates, hijinks and shenanigans, comedian everybody, jiang siblings, friends to lovers, found family, adorable juniors, happy ending, favorite, @itsvarnes​​

(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[cherrybracelets]

Freefall

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

word count: 15.3k | warnings: smut!!!! alcohol mention, murder mention, rape mention, lots of typical cm violence! 

inspired by: its called freefall by rainbow kitten surprise (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading!)

Anyway, you say you’re too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / And you don’t want no help, oh well / That’s the story to tell

ok i have put my blood sweat and tears in this lamfkndksjfj this has been my wip for almost 3 weeks this is my entry for @veraiconcos​ fic challenge!! her prompt fit so perfectly with this fic so i am so excited to share it with you guys. this is by far my most challenging piece and the one i worked the longest on. i really hope you all love it, feedback is much appreciate. i am tagging some moots to signal boost this, i hope u dont mind 

Aaron- 

This woman killed my dad. They said you’d be able to help. Please find her. 

Aaron ran his fingertips over the letter one more time, feeling the depth of the pen, the engravement of each letter into the crisp stationary. He reread the words for a thousandth time, wondering if this time he could discover who actually sent the letter. But unfortunately, just like the past times, there was nothing to indicate who the sender was. The only other thing in the picture was a photograph of a young woman, the person Aaron believed was the murderer. Her face was mostly covered, and he was almost certain the short black bob that sat on her head was a wig. There was nothing about the photo that would help identify her, but on the back of the photo was a date- May 7th 2020, and a city, Sante Fe, NM.

He continued to stare at it, hoping some new information would pop out at him this time. But there was nothing, and he knew if he wanted to find whoever was responsible for this crime, he would need to involve the team. Whoever sent this clearly only wanted Aaron involved, even addressing him personally as Aaron and not Agent Hotchner.. Who could this person be? And who sent him Aaron’s way? 

“You’re here early,” JJ hesitated, walking through the doors of the BAU to begin her day.

“Yeah… I’ve got kind of a… thing?” Aaron stammered over his words, trying to decide how he should go about this. 

“What’s going on, Hotch?” 

“Come take a look at this. It was on my desk yesterday.” Hotch waved JJ over to him, holding the letter tightly in hands. He handed it to her hesitantly, still not feeling comfortable sharing with the rest of the team. It could be a prank, a practical joke, somebody just trying to waste his time. But how did it find it’s way onto his desk? Who would be messing with him like this? 

“Was there an envelope?” JJ asked, staring at the words on the paper. 

“Yes, addressed to me, but no return address. It seems like it was hand delivered.” 

“The handwriting looks like a teenagers, how would he have made it all the way from New Mexico?”

“Maybe somebody else delivered it?”

Aaron and JJ’s attention was quickly taken away when Spencer and Derek walked through the doors, their loud voices cracking through the quiet air of the BAU. They were arguing about something pointless, as they usually did. Aaron felt his head throbbing as the day started to begin, unsure of how much longer he’d be able to make it without some strong coffee. 

“JJ, keep this between us for now. I’ll bring it to Garcia, see if she can find anything worth investigating. I don’t want to bring it to the team unless I’m sure we have a case.” 

“Understood.” JJ smiled kindly at him, a look he was all too familiar with. Ever since Haley died, it felt like everyone was constantly walking on eggshells around him. Everyone felt bad, and they did whatever he asked without complaint. From a boss standpoint, it was nice, not having to argue your decisions to your team. But, they were more than his team. They were his friends, and he felt he lost them the same day he lost Haley. 

Aaron greeted Spencer and Derek quickly, not wanting to get pulled into whatever discussion they were having. He was holding onto the letter tightly, afraid of losing it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just had a feeling about it. Like he had stumbled onto something huge, and whatever Garcia could find out would lead them to something unbelievable. 

“Hey, Garcia. Any chance I could have you work on something… private, for now?” Aaron stood in the doorway of her office, all of the bright screens making him wince. His headache was only getting worse as the day went on. 

“Of course, sir. Is everything okay?” She looked worried, for sure hoping that whatever secret task she was performing for him had nothing to do with Haley. Although he knew she would never say anything, he could tell she was worried about him. 

“I need you to check deaths in Santa Fe, NM from May 5th - May 9th. Specifically look for men with teenage sons.”

“Just homicides?” 

“No, any deaths. And see if you find anything suspicious.”

“Alright…” Penelope said, furrowing her brows in confusion. “It might take a bit. Santa Fe’s a big city.”

“Just get back to me when you can, Garcia.” Aaron smiled slightly at the technical analyst, before leaving quietly. His head was begging him for caffeine, or Advil, or a drink, even though it was barely 9 in the morning. 

He walked quietly back to his office, not talking to any of his team, closing the door behind him as he got inside. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, most likely caused by the cigarette he snuck this morning on an empty stomach. He paced uncomfortably, dry swallowing an Advil he found in the back of his desk drawer. He knew it would take Garcia a while

to get his information, but he was feeling exceptionally frustrated and impatient. He started to walk towards the door, feeling the need to to pester his analyst to work quicker, but as he opened it, JJ stood pleasantly in the door. 

“We got a case, boss,” she smiled, waving an envelope in the air. 

“Alright, let’s get to the conference room.” Aaron closed the door to office, following his Agent into the annex. He felt sick as he took his seat, not ready for whatever horror was about to be presented. Some days he felt like giving up, like throwing in the towel. He has given this job everything he had, and what did he get in return? 

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Aaron and the team left an hour later for their newest destination, solving the case within 3 days. They were headed back to DC on the jet when he got a call from Garcia. It was rare she would call him personally if they were not working a case, so he knew it must’ve been about the letter. He waited a moment before answering, anxious about what her news could be. What if she found nothing, and this was the end of the line? 

“Hello, sir. I wanted to call as soon as I could.” She sounded nervous, a tone of confusion in her voice. 

“What’s going on, Garcia?” 

“Well, it’s about the letter. I found something… interesting.” 

“Do you think we could have a case?”

“It’s a high possibility, sir.” 

“Alright. Can you patch into the computer and share with the team. I’d like to bring them in on this as well.”

“Sounds good, see you in a moment.”

Aaron hung the phone up, walking back to the main part of the jet and back to the rest of the team. They were spread out, all enjoying the calming feeling of a solved case. Spencer and JJ were sleeping, Emily and Derek both with headphones in and Rossi reading a book. He hated to bother them, hated to disturb their peace they all deserved. But that was the job- there was no peace. They all had to endure constant chaos so that innocent people didn’t have to. 

Aaron turned on the lights of the jet, alarming his team and causing several groans of frustration. 

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Emily asked in desperation, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light. 

“I’m sorry to bother everyone, but I think we might have a new case.” Aaron looked around the room, slowly watching the faces of his friends change from their relaxed state to the intensity of a profiler. 

“Is this about… the thing from a few days ago?” JJ asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up if it wasn’t the case. 

“The letter, yes.” 

“Hello, my sleepy friends. I am sorry to bother you, but I have stumbled across something interesting that I believe requires your attention. Uh, Hotch… would you like to…” she trailed off, looking around for her superior to explain how they ended up here. 

“I received a letter a few days ago… someone asking us to look into the death of their father. It was anonymous, there was a picture along with it but it still wasn’t enough to do much on my own. So, I handed over what I had to Garcia and…” Aaron trailed off, realizing now he hadn’t even asked Penelope what she got before bringing the rest of the team in. 

“I guess that’s where I come in. So, as per our humble leader, I searched for deaths of men on the given dates with teenage sons, and as I expected, that list was quite large.” 

“Why teenage sons?” Derek asked, still trying to fill in the gaps of information. 

“The letter was clearly written by a young boy, no older than 16 was my guess,” JJ added, explaining her conclusion to the team. 

“Garcia, were you able to narrow down the list?” Aaron asked, desperately wanting to know what she found. 

“Well, I got rid of anyone whose death was expected. People who were sick or in the hospital, with underlying medical conditions, et cetera et cetera. Once we narrowed it down to deaths that were true accidents, I had a list of three.” 

“How do we know this isn’t just a prank?” Rossi asked. It was a fair question, a question he frequently asked himself as well. 

“Ah, well, if it was a prank I wouldn’t have found out what I did…” 

“That looks like the face of someone who’s about to tell me I’m not going home tonight,” Derek laughed, turning to Emily, who rolled her eyes. 

“Unfortunately it does seem like there’s a case here. One of the men that I flagged as ‘Could Be A Murder Victim’ has a… bad past.” One thing that Aaron always admired about Penelope is how she always managed to speak with such lightness, no matter how heavy the content of her words. “42-year old Derek Hood was killed on May 7th, ruled as an accidental drug overdose. There was some chatter that it may have been suicide, but there was no note and the family insisted he wouldn’t have killed himself.” 

“So what makes you think it was murder?” Spencer asked.

“Alright, get this. Our man Jason was on trial two years ago for the rape of three different 16 year old girls. It was declared a mistrial, unfortunately, after all three of the girls refused to testify at his trial.”

“Is it possible he threatened them? This could be a revenge killing, if that was the case,” Emily added. 

“Ah, I thought that too, my friend. But all three of the girls are now in college and far, far away from Sante Fe. So, that was kind of a dead end.”

“What about the parents?” Aaron questioned. 

“We think alike, sir. All three of their families still reside in Santa Fe, and three weeks before Jason’s death, all three couples withdrew $15,000 cash from their banks. One family stated it was for a pool, the other for a car, and the last family stated it was for bathroom renovations.” 

“Were any of those projects completed, Garcia?” 

“To the best of my knowledge, no.” 

“So this is what I think it is, then,” Rossi asked, looking up towards Aaron for confirmation. 

“It’s most likely a hitman, yes.” Aaron looked around at his team, a feeling of worry drowning him. Hitmen were exceptionally dangerous, and so were the routes to get to them. It was an extremely well protected underground business, and the chances of catching one successfully, with no one hurt, were very slim. 

“Wait, but our unsub is a woman. The photo very clearly showed a female, and even in the letter, the boy addresses her as ‘This woman.’” 

“Could we see the picture, Garcia?” Aaron asked, staring at the monitor as he awaited the photo. 

“Maybe they’re dressing as a woman to distract any possible witnesses?” Rossi added. The photo then popped up on the monitor, the same hidden person that was ingrained in Aaron’s brain. He couldn’t forget her, her shielded face, cheap wig, perfect body… 

“That is definitely a woman, guys. You can’t fake that body…” Derek laughed, causing a wave of eye rolls and a slight shove of disgust from Emily. 

“A female hitman… that is exceptionally rare.” 

“Maybe she’s killing for justice? I mean, Jason was a piece of shit. And he somehow got away with his crimes, maybe this is punishment,” Derek added, always the first to try to come up with some sort of explanation. 

“Why would she charge the parents almost fifty grand, though? That clearly makes it about money,” Emily rebutted. 

“Garcia, is there any way we can find out who they gave that money too?” Aaron asked, hoping for a quick and easy answer, but he knew nothing was easy at this job. 

“Since they took it out in cash, there’s no way to trace it, sir.” 

“We’ll need to talk to the parents.” 

“They won’t say anything, you know how that goes,” JJ said. 

“We’ll target one of them, whichever is the most unstable. Promise them immunity. That usually works in situations like this.” Aaron looked at the team, noticing how tired they were. He knew how bad they needed to go home, sleep in their own beds, wash their hair with something other than hotel shampoo. But this was big, he could feel it. And they probably did, as well. It was their life, they were all aware of how crazy this career path could be. But, just because he knew that, it didn't make it any easier on Aaron when he had to push them to their limit.  “We need to turn the plane around to Santa Fe. If this person is local, it’s best that we’re on the scene.” 

“Can we at least stop home so I can get some new clothes?” JJ groaned, looking at the team in desperation for support. 

“Fine. Can we be back in the air in two hours?” 

“We can make that work,” Spencer agreed. 

“Alright. Thanks, guys.” 

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Santa Fe was hot. The kind of hot that made it impossible to breathe, and your clothes felt like they had melted into your skin. Aaron could feel his skin on fire, burning hotter and hotter as he stood under the desert sun. Emily stood next to him, glistening in a thin layer of sweat. The two of them stared closely at a house across the street, taking in every detail. 

“You ready?” Emily asked, her voice cracking through the quiet air like a whip. 

“Uh… yeah,” Aaron stuttered, his brain feeling off. He had a feeling whoever this person was, she wasn’t in Sante Fe. This was a big operation that they had stumbled upon, and he had a bad feeling about the way it would end up. 

Aaron followed Emily to the door, feeling exceptionally guilty as they entered the front yard of a family whose lives had been destroyed- and all they were there to do was destroy them further. He knew they only did what they did to avenge their daughter- and he understood. Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve done the same thing with Foyet.

“Are you alright, Hotch? I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t seem like yourself,” Emily questioned, stopping in her tracks before they made their presence  known to the family. 

“Just have a bad feeling about this one, I guess,” he responded, rubbing his head with his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s get this over with…” 

“Aye aye, sir.” 

The two of them walked to the front door of the small house, knocking slightly quietly on the white painted wood of the door. An older man opened the door, immediately tensing up as he saw the two of them. They looked like Agents- or at the very least, local detectives, and the man was pretty quick to understand why they were there. 

“Are you Bradley Mathis?” Emily asked, standing a few inches in front of Aaron, clearly trying to take the lead on this. It was probably for the best, since his head was not on right today. In all honesty, his head hadn’t been on right since Foyet. 

“Who are you?” Bradley asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest and backing away from the door. 

“Mr. Mathis, I want to assure you that if you cooperate with us, there will be no trouble. We understand you did everything to protect your daughter, and we aren’t looking for trouble. We just want to find the person who did this for you.” As Aaron spoke, he realized how scary this must be for him. His daughter was brutally attacked, they found the man that hurt her, and then he threatened her into silence so he could walk free. If it had happened to Aaron’s kid, he would’ve killed the son of a bitch with his own bare hands. 

“You promise me nothing will happen to me?” He asked defensively, his eyes darting nervously across the room.

“I never met her, okay. I swear,” he responded in relief, as if he’d been waiting for the moment he could finally tell somebody. It was exhausting caring around those kinds of secrets. “I got her info from a friend. You go to the website, submit your claim, and she’ll send an assistant out to decide if she’ll take you on as a client. If she decides to help you, you’ll give half the money up front, and half upon proof of… death,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke the words.

“That’s pretty standard practice for what she is…” Emily added. 

“How did you find her website?” Aaron asked, wanting to leave this man in peace as quickly as possible. 

“There’s some… tricks to finding her. Give me one second,” he said, turning around quickly and darting to another room. Emily reached for her gun defensively, but Aaron put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. 

“He won’t run.” 

“How do you know? He has every reason to dart.” 

“I just know. He’ll be back. Trust me.” Aaron looked to his Agent, kindly suggesting but also ordering her to relax. She nodded, crossing her arms as the pair waited for Bradley. As Aaron suspected, he came back a few minutes later with a beat up piece of paper. 

“Someone I know from the support group gave me this. It’s how to contact her.” He handed them a brochure that was in pretty bad shape, but still legible enough to understand where to go. From the outside, it looked like a brochure for a dental surgery. But there were certain words highlighted, most likely by whoever gave Bradley this in the first place. It mapped out clear instructions on how to contact this mystery vigilante. 

“That’s all I know. I swear.” 

“I believe you,” Aaron responded, noticining the calmness flooding over Bradley’s face as Aaron spoke. “You can never tell anybody this, do you understand?” 

Bradley nodded, his mouth glued shut as the reality of the situation finally weighed on him. He noticed the guns holstered to Emily and Aaron’s hips, and quickly shut the door, no goodbye’s needed. 

“If she’s sending people to meet potential clients before she meets them, she isn’t local,” Emily put together, shaking her head in shock as the pair walked back to their car. 

“No, she’s not. Which means we need to get back on the plane ASAP. Send this over to Garcia, I’ll call the team and tell them to meet us back at the jet.” 

“Sounds good.” 

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“Hello, angels. Are you ready for all the answers to your prayers?” Garcia’s voice popped through the stiff air of the jet, breaking through the harsh waters like a ray of sunshine. 

“Were you able to find her, Garcia?” 

“Of course, sir. Our girl is fancy. You need five grand upfront just to meet with her. Her website looks like it was designed for a five star hotel. She is legit.” 

“Can we actually find her, Penelope?” Aaron had raised his voice slightly, frustration starting to set in. He just wanted this to be over, he wanted to bring her in and end this. 

“Yes, yes. Sorry. Our girl goes by the name Ananke.” 

“That’s not very intimidating,” Derek laughed, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair. 

“Well, kind of. Ananke is a greek goddess, specifically known as one of the most powerful deity’s to control fate and circumstance. It’s pretty fitting, giving what she does.” 

“The only way to meet her is to submit an appointment request, which is easier said than done. She has a legit system, requires a birth certificate, social security number, and a license or passport.”

“And five G’s,” JJ added. 

“Can we create fake documents and submit them? Maybe have someone undercover go meet her.” 

“I’ll do it. This has been my case from the beginning, I’d like to end it as well,” Aaron said, assuring his team he would finish this. 

“I can get everything made up and submitted before you land.” 

“Is there any way to figure out where she’s located?” 

“Unfortunately not at the moment. I am still digging though, it’s possible I missed something.” 

“Thanks, Garcia. We’ll see you soon.” 

The team made some more small talk after that, realizing there wasn’t much they could do unless they had a location. Aaron’s head was beginning to throb again, absolute exhaustion overcoming him as he sat down and let himself relax for the first time in days. He missed Jack, he missed the comfort of his own bed, the smell of his cheap laundry detergent. He realized he was digging his nails into his palms, his flesh barely intact as he released his tension. 

The rest of his team had broken up into their own conversations, ignoring the crumbling mess that was Aaron Hotchner. He walked to the bathroom quietly, snooping through the cabinets and finding a small bottle of vodka. He downed it quickly, letting the liquor burn the back of his throat and take his mind off of everything else. Even if it was for a moment, the distraction was welcomed, and almost necessary for him to keep going. 

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It was two full days- almost forty eight hours exactly- when they finally heard back from Ananke. She had agreed to meet with ‘Zachary Wilson’ who was looking for revenge against the drunk driver that killed his wife. And to the whole team’s surprise, it appeared that she was located in DC. Ananke herself said she would meet him, stating that she was ‘in the area’. 

The address she gave them appeared to be a popular nightclub in college town, one that Aaron had unfortunately been dragged to on multiple occasions. The team agreed that Aaron should meet her alone, the team standing outside to come in if necessary. She wanted to meet him on a Friday night, which meant the place would be flooded with innocent civilians. It was safest if they stayed out of it, at first. 

By the time Friday rolled around, Aaron had barely eaten in days. He was staying alive on coffee, tylenol, and mini bottles of vodka he could keep in his pockets. Oh, and the occasional cigarette was a necessity as well. He had waited anxiously for what felt like weeks to meet her. This case had been weighing on him since the moment he received that letter, and he wanted it to be over. He wanted the anxiety and the chaos to be over. But, once they solved this one, there would just be another after, and the cycle of chaos and anxiety begins all over again. 

“I hope you know you can't dress like that,” JJ said, teasing Aaron with a light shove as she walked past him. 

“Why?” 

“It’s… a business suit, Hotch. And you're going to a nightclub. It screams Fed.” 

Aaron looked down at himself, realizing JJ was right. His vibes screamed ‘Cop’, and that was exactly what he did not want. 

“Don’t worry, sir. I have something you can borrow from my go bag,” Derek suggested. 

“Hotch in Derek’s clothes? That’s something I’ll pay good money to see,” Emily laughed, JJ giggling alongside her as Derek rolled his eyes and threw clothes at the two of them. 

“You think these will work?” Derek asked the girls, not bothering with Aaron’s opinion. 

“Oh, it’s perfect. Hotch will love these,” they laughed, neatly folding the clothes and handing them to Aaron. He walked away in silence, heading towards his office so he could change. The clothes weren’t a perfect fit, but they were better than his suit. The shirt was way too tight, with a v-neck that was way too deep. His arms felt like they would rip right through the cheap cotton, and his ass felt like it was going to bust straight out of the denim. 

He began to walk out of the office quietly, hoping that the rest of the team wouldn’t be waiting for his fashion show. But as he figured, they were standing by patiently for him to show off in Derek’s way too tight clothes. As soon as he opened the door, a riot of laughs and cat calls surrounded him. He felt himself blushing, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time. 

“Damn, Hotch. Where have you been hiding those arms?” Derek laughed, his voice echoing through Aarons head. 

“I think we need to start casual Friday,” Spencer added, staring in awe at his boss. 

“Alright, enough guys. This is a serious case, and I need everyone to be on their best behavior.” 

“I’m not sure I can act right with you walking around like that,” Rossi joked, causing the rest of the team to burst out with laughter. Aaron just rolled his eyes, secretly appreciating the light that they all brought to his life. 

“Alright, you guys ready to go?” 

“All set. Let’s go catch a killer, sir.” 

The ride to the club was a bit of a hike, a little over thirty minutes by the time they parked. They were split in two cars, seperated to cover both entrances. The plan was for him to go in and assess the situation, hoping he can get her out without harming any bystanders. If he needed backup, he had an alarm he could trigger that would alert the rest of the team to come in. It was a simple plan, one they had executed a thousand times in the past. But despite that, he felt extremely anxious. 

“Are you ready, Aaron?” Rossi asked, raising his eyebrows in concern. 

“Yeah, let’s get this over with. Stay alert, guys.” Aaron walked out of the car and to the entrance of the club, staring directly at the large bouncer standing in front of the door. He was given very specific instructions on what to see when he approached the man, ones that would deliver him directly to Ananke and avoid having to deal with the actual club. 

“You on the list?” The bouncer asked as Aaron approached, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard. 

“I’m here to see… A,” he whispered, looking around frantically to see if anyone else heard. 

“You got your ID and confirmation number?” He asked, setting his clipboard down and staring intensely at Aaron. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s 73491. And here’s my drivers license,” he responded, handing him the forged Virginia license of one Zachary Wilson. 

“Zachary Wilson…” the man whispered, making Aaron sick to his stomach as he awaited the man to deny him and send him away, ruining his chances of finding her forever. “You’re gonna go in this door, right here,” he said, pointing towards a hidden and seemingly locked door to his right. “Take the stairs all the way up, knock on the door twice. She’ll be right with you.” 

“Thank you,” he responded, relieved as he began to walk past the guard and towards his end goal. 

“Oh, and Zachary,” the man added, causing Aaron to turn around in confusion. 

“Remember: lei è dalla nostra parte,” he said, a smile creeping on his face as he spoke. Aaron recognized the language as Italian, but he couldn’t translate what he was saying. The bouncer turned around before Aaron had the chance to ask what he meant, but he figured it would just be better to move on and go directly to her. 

He slowly opened the door, unsure of what he would find on the other side. To his surprise, it was only an exceptionally narrow staircase in a small hallway, leading directly to another gray door. The sound of fluorescent lights buzzed in the air, making Aaron dizzy as he walked up the steep steps. He remembered what the man said- knock twice. He also remembered the phrase in Italian, lei è dalla nostra parte. And when he finally got to the door, he began to unravel the words in his head. He knocked twice, replaying the words over and over. And when he finally heard the door click open, he understood what the man had meant. She is on our side. 

“Zachary?” A man asked, opening the door slightly, only enough to peak out at him. 

“Yes. I’m here to see-” 

“Ananke. Of course,” he interrupted, swinging the door open and revealing an exceptionally beautiful and ornate room. Aaron walked in slowly, in a daze, his eyes not sure where to look as every piece of the room exceptionally thought out. There was a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the light reflecting rainbows from the crystals. 

“She will be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat somewhere. Can I get you anything to drink?” 

Aaron felt like he was at a hotel, the service impeccable as he sat down on the incredibly comfortable and probably very expensive couch. Most hit men he had met with did not present themselves like this. Whoever she was, she had a lot of money. In that moment, he wondered how many lives she had taken- how many people finally got what they deserved. And for a brief and frightening moment, he wondered if she was doing things right? 

His thoughts were interrupted when she walked out. Not only did he lose his train of thought, but his breath was literally ripped from his chest. She was no longer covering her face, or wearing a wig. She had finally revealed herself to him, and he was in awe. She was absolutely stunning- beautiful to a level that made his head spin and his heart cramp up. He stood up instinctively, feeling the need to stand and greet her face to face. As she walked closer, he felt his throat getting tighter and tighter. 

“Hello,” she spoke, her words floating through the air like a flower in the spring wind. “I’m Ananke.” 

“Mhmm, he,” he stuttered, sticking his hand out to shake hers. “I’m…” he choked, unable to get his words out. 

“Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, right?” She smiled, and Aaron instinctively reached for his gun. 

“Put your weapon away, Aaron. I’m no threat to you,” she instructed, and he complied. For some reason, he believed her. She had no intention of hurting him or anyone else in this building. He didn’t need his weapon. 

“How do you know who I am?” 

“The FBI has a list of Social Security numbers they regularly use for fake documents. It’s… a hard list to get your hands on. I’m lucky I have friends in high places.” 

“So you knew who I was from the minute I submitted my application?” He was shocked, a sick feeling washing over him. Who was she? How was she consistently one step ahead of them? 

“I’m sorry to break your sense of superiority, agent. It hurts when someone is smarter than you, doesn't it?” She tilted her head at him, a devilish grin pasted across her face. He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be angry, but all he could focus on was the fire burning inside of him and the hunger building itself, the craving overcoming her. Her skirt revealed a little too much of her thigh and her shirt was a little too low cut and the thought of her flesh on his rippled its way through his body. 

“Well, we found you and I’m going to arrest you, so it doesn’t seem like you came out on top here,” he responded, avoiding eye contact as he tried to get his impure thoughts out of his head. 

“Agent Hotchner, something you will quickly learn is that I only come on top.” She winked at him, pursuing her lips slightly and smiling. She held her wrists out to him, walking towards him until she was only inches away. “Are you going to arrest me, Agent?” 

Aaron reached for the cuffs in his back pocket, pulling them out slowly and staring directly at her. She didn't take his eyes off of him, standing tall as he began to cuff her. Her hands were soft, almost comical as they brushed against his rough and untouched skin. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. He just closed the cuffs on her, her large eyes staring up at him like a doe. He felt dizzy again, the intoxicating smell of her perfume, the subtle hints of berries and vanilla surrounding him in a whirlwind. 

He slowly grabbed his phone from his pocket, trying to dial Rossi’s number, feeling drunk as he pressed the button. What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? Why would she willingly let herself get arrested so easily? That was the problem. This was exceptionally easy. Nothing was ever this easy. 

“Hey, Rossi. I got her. We’re coming down now.” 

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Aaron wasn’t surprised that she remained silent the entire car ride back to Quantico. What he was surprised by is that she didn’t appear nervous or angry. She sat calmly, staring out the window, her body relaxed and her lips forming the slightest smile. It made him angry- he didn’t understand her nonchalance. 

They tried to talk to her, ask her for her real name, about her crimes- but she would just look at them, tilting her head and smiling before bringing her gaze back outside. When they finally arrived back at the Bureau, she turned towards Aaron and Rossi, slowly speaking her first words in over thirty minutes. 

“Am I allowed a phone call?” She asked, staring directly at Aaron, as if it was only the two of them in the car. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world. 

“Who exactly would you like to call?” Rossi smirked, rolling his eyes, trying to get Aaron to look at him. But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. He was drawn to her like a sailor at sea, listening to the sweet song of the siren. He understood, now, why the sailors always swam to their death. It was because it was so damn beautiful. 

“I’d like to speak with the Director,” she insisted, her eyes finally releasing Aaron from his hypnosis as she looked in disgust at Rossi. He could sense the shift in her tone as she looked at the agent- she had built up a terrifying exterior that she had on display for most people. But when she looked at Aaron, the wall somehow didn’t exist. Why would she show her true self to a stranger? What was it about him that she was drawn too? Could she sense his pain? Did she know that he understood why she did what she did? That he, too, had felt the rush of ending evil with his own two hands? 

“The Director? Of the FBI?” Rossi asked, shocked at her absurd request. “What exactly would you like to speak to him about?” 

“I just think he’d be interested to know I’m here,” she spoke, calmly, sitting back in the seat of the car and looking out the window again. 

“This girl is nuts…” Rossi whispered to Aaron before getting out of the car and grabbing ‘Ananke’ from the back seat. Aaron followed closely behind, his eyes locked on Rossi’s tight grip around her flesh. He could see the marks his agent was leaving behind, his fingertips dug into her arm. It made him sick. The thought of anyone harming her made him sick. But she was the bad guy- he was supposed to hate her, to send her away and avenge all of the lives she took. Why did he want to save her so bad? Grab her from Rossi, hop in the car and take her away from all of this. It didn’t make sense, the way he felt. And Aaron hated it- he hated feeling out of control of his own thoughts- his own desires. 

As they brought her into the BAU, the rest of the team following behind, he immediately noticed something was off when he walked through the doors. The rest of the team must have noticed as well, because they all kind of stopped in their tracks as they walked in. 

Derek noticed her first, pacing back and forth in Aaron’s office. 

“Strauss,” he groaned, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. 

“What is she doing here?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and tensing up. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll go find out. Rossi, can you bring her into the interrogation room? Spencer, try and get something out of her,” Aaron instructed his team, watching them seperate and do their assigned tasks as he walked up to his office. When he got closer, he noticed the Director was also there as well. He got a sick feeling in his stomach, remembering his immediate thoughts when he first arrested Ananke. It’s never this easy. 

He opened his office door with shaking hands, immediately slapped in the face with tension clinging to the air. The Director stood up as he entered, and Strauss stopped pacing. 

“Aaron,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously around the room. 

“Erin,” he smirked, not sure why his brain was choosing this moment to crack jokes. 

“It’s good to see you, Agent Hotchner. It’s been a while,” the Director said. 

“Chris. It’s good to see you as well. Can I ask what you’re doing in my office?” 

The two of them looked nervously at each other, as if deciding who had to tell him the unspoken secret. The first thought in his brain was that Foyet was back. He killed him, though. He remembered the life draining out of him. He couldn’t be back. He felt his body get hot, his breathing picking up as he remembered Foyet’s face… 

“Aaron… unfortunately, we’re going to need you to let (Y/N) go.” 

“Who?” He asked bluntly, confused at the name he was sure he had never heard before. Although his brain was still spinning, he was feeling calmer knowing whatever this was, it wasn’t about Foyet. 

“Ananke. You need to release her,” Strauss clarified, her voice equally annoyed and apologetic. 

“I’m sorry… I’m confused.” Aaron was realizing now how much easier it was to hate Ananke - or (Y/N) - when she wasn't right in front of him. He couldn’t see her, she couldn’t lure him in. Her spell had broken. “I know for a fact she killed at least one person. I’m not releasing her.” 

“Aaron, this goes beyond you. She is no longer a person of interest.” Chris had raised his voice, clearly frustrated at whatever was happening. 

“You can’t just take away my unsub and not tell me why. Do you think my team will be okay with that? Do you think I’ll be okay with that?” Aaron was angry, the thought of them taking her away with no reason making him crazy. 

“Agent Hotchner, there are some secrets within the Bureau that even you don’t know about.” 

“I don’t accept that.” 

Chris and Strauss looked defeated, both accepting that they won’t win this battle. Chris shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, contemplating his words. 

“What is going on, Strauss?” Aaron begged, the room beginning to spin again, his body craving the sweet release of nicotine and the bitter taste of vodka. 

“Your unsubs real name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is a government protected assassin.” 

“What?” Aaron’s head was spinning, the room around him dancing in circles as the words floated through his mind. That couldn’t be real. There was no way the place he worked, that he believed upheld justice, would do something so… unjust. So immoral. They had to be lying. “It’s not possible. We met the man that paid her to kill someone. She was paid by a civilian to kill a civilian.” 

“She sometimes takes on… side projects,” Chris muttered, clearly knowing his words would upset Aaron. 

“And you allow that?” He yelled, his body fuming with anger as he paced around his office. It didn't make sense. Everything he had ever believed in was crumbling right before his eyes- all because of her. 

“With the things she has done for us, Aaron, there is a little bit of lenience. Besides, Jason was a bad person, anyways.” 

“That doesn’t make it okay. We have a justice system in place for a reason.” He felt sick, the realization that a system he protected for so long was seeping with corruption. 

“Did Foyet get his chance for trial? Or did the justice system not count for him?” Strauss looked at him sternly, frustration written on her face. Aaron realized she was right. He took justice into his own hands with Foyet, and he didn’t regret it. How was she doing anything different? For a moment, nothing made sense to Aaron. His entire belief system had shattered right in front of him. He was speechless, his brain splashing around trying to find the right words to express his disbelief. But he was coming up empty, drawing blanks. There was truly nothing he could say that could capture how he felt. He just thought of her, the sweet smell of berries that lingered in her hair, the softness of her skin, the enticing aura that surrounded her when she looked at him. 

“What am I supposed to tell my team?” He thought out loud. 

“We’ll handle it. Let’s go out and talk to them now,” Chris instructed, walking out of the office and down towards the annex. Rossi noticed the three of them and quickly walked up to Chris, greeting him. 

“Could you gather your team for me?” The director asked, Aaron still unsure of how he would explain this to them. Rossi grabbed everyone pretty quickly, dragging Spencer from the interrogation room, which Aaron could only imagine was going very poorly. 

“Hello everyone, I’m sorry to bother you all, but the unsub you brought in today is a person of interest in several international crimes. She’s been on our watch list for a while, now, and we’re going to have to hand her over to interpol.” The Directors words were quick and precise, leaving no room for anyone to second guess him. Even Aaron was convinced they weren’t going to release her the minute they were alone. 

“What has she done?” JJ questioned, intrigued at the mystery international criminal they brought in. 

“It’s classified, Agent. And if you don’t mind, we’d like to get out of here rather quickly. If someone could grab her, please,” he ordered, causing Spencer to quickly walk to the room she was in and bring her back out to them. 

She was smirking widely as she walked out, clearly knowing her freedom was inevitable. He had so many questions for her, so much he needed to know, but he had to keep his mouth shut. She was slipping right through his fingers, and he had only just begun to know her. 

“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I know how much you enjoyed seeing me in handcuffs,” she whispered to him as she passed by, winking seductively before being taken away by the Director and Strauss. 

Aaron felt miserable as she walked away, the three of them heading into the elevator and away from him forever. She now felt only like a ghost, a distant memory fading away as more time went by without her. The team moved on from the loss in a matter of minutes, but Aaron stood there, frozen in place, waiting desperately for her to come back. 

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Five days. He was able to wait five days before he went to see her. He tried so desperately to forget about her- it seemed everyone else had. But she seeped into his dreams, tossing and turning as he tried to sleep, her voice, her face, her body, calling to him. He needed to see her again, just to ask her why. He wouldn’t sleep ever again if he didn’t. 

So, five days after she walked away, he waited until Jack was asleep, explained to Jessica that he had some paperwork to take care of, and headed to see her. His brain continuously tried to tell him it was a bad idea. He should turn around, go home, and forget her. But he knew it was easier said than done. This was the only way. 

When he got to the club, he noticed the same bouncer from before was sitting outside the door. Aaron felt a bit relieved, hoping the man would recognize him and he could lie his way up to (Y/N)’ door. 

“Hey, man,” he said casually, trying to sound as calm and not suspicious as possible. 

“Can I help you?” The man grunted, clearly not amused by Aaron’s attempt to be friendly. 

“I’m here to see A. We met a few days ago, I need to drop my money off,” he whispered, praying to whatever God was listening that this guy would believe his story. 

“A isn’t supposed to be meeting anyone tonight,” he groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Aaron could tell it was a long shot, but he had to do whatever he could to see her. 

“Call her. She’ll tell you,” he stuttered, looking anxiously at the large man standing between him and (Y/N). It was possible he could take him down if he had to, Aaron thought. It would be a hell of a fight, but he’d brought down bigger men. He shifted instinctively, trying to casually feel his hip and make sure he was still armed. 

The man pulled out a small phone that appeared to be very old- most likely a burner they used to communicate. He dialed a number quickly and stared at Aaron, as if hoping his boss would give him the go ahead to kick Aaron’s ass. 

“Hey, it’s me. Some guy is here to see you. Said you talked earlier today. Can you check the cams,” he asked, trying to speak quietly, but Aaron was still able to hear every word. He waited patiently for her response, trying to keep his face calm. 

“Alright, thanks A.” He hung the call up and placed the phone in his pocket, taking as long as possible to give Aaron his answer. It felt like hours, excruciating pain as he waited for his fate. 

“You’re clear to go.”

Aaron was almost positive she would send him away. If she had cameras, she knew it was him. Why would she allow him to come up? Did she want to see him, too? 

He knew if he stood there any longer contemplating the situation, he would look suspicious. So despite all of his common sense warning him that something was wrong, he walked through the secret door and up the narrow staircase, knocking twice at her door and awaiting to enter her world. 

He was greeted by the same man from earlier, who was smiling brightly as he opened the door and let him in. He offered him another drink, which Aaron politely declined, finding a seat on one of the couches and unable to sit still as he waited for her. 

She left him waiting for quite a while. Although it felt like hours of agony for Aaron, his watch assured him he had only been waiting around twenty minutes by the time she finally greeted him. She was wearing a short red dress, golden heels wrapped around her feet as she floated towards him, smiling devilishly as she poured herself a drink. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent,” she teased, taking a sip of her liquor of choice and taking a seat across from him. 

“I needed to talk to you.” 

“About what?” She tilted her head, soft lips creating a pout of confusion as she stared at him. 

“You knew I was going to arrest you the minute you got my application to meet… if you knew you couldn’t get in trouble, why would you let all of that happen? You could’ve called the Director the minute you knew who I was. Why didn’t you?” Aaron needed to know why she went through the trouble of setting up a meeting with him, allowing herself to be arrested and brought to the Bureau. It didn’t make sense, allowing herself to take such a big risk.

“It seemed… fun. Sometimes my life can be quite boring.” She smiled at him, her flirtatious grin that she seemed to save just for Aaron. 

“Wasting my time, my team's time… that's fun to you?” Aaron was getting angry again, his body fuming as he looked at her. 

“Well, maybe a part of me wanted to meet you. I mean, we’re not so different, Aaron.” 

“Hah,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at her. “You think you and I have anything in common?” 

“Oh, are you not the same SSA Aaron Hotchner who killed George Foyet with his own hands?” 

“How the hell do you know that?” Aaron had stood up at this point, his anger and frustration causing his body to become restless. 

“It’s on your record, Agent. It’s not too hard to find…” She took another sip of her drink, finishing the last of the cups content and standing up to face him. For a moment, they were inches apart, the air between them stock full of tension, anger and attraction swimming around the two. But as he prayed he could control his compulsion to touch her, she walked away, over to another corner of the room, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. 

The smell of smoke intoxicated him, making his knees shake as he craved the burn of nicotine in his throat. She floated back towards him, taking her place back on the couch and burning quickly through her cigarette. 

“You seem so angry, Aaron.” 

“Because you’re killing people, and somehow the people I look up to to maintain law and order don’t care.” 

“Have you ever thought that you’re more angry at yourself than at me? I mean, a part of you gets it, right? You understand what I do, why I do it… and that makes you sick, doesn’t it?” 

“I would never justify what you do.” 

“Mm,” she hummed, standing up and walking towards him again. She placed a soft hand on his face, Aaron realizing her touch was the first he’d felt since Haley died. The feel of his flesh being caressed by someone, being held by someone- it made him melt. 

“Maybe it’s not that, though. Maybe you really do hate me, hate what I do. But a part of you can’t stop thinking about touching me, feeling me… fucking me.” She moved her hand down his body, trailing her fingers down his chest and stopping at the base of his groin. He felt chills down his body, blood rushing to his cock at the slightest touch. 

“That’s not- it’s not that,” he stuttered, trying to back away, knowing how dangerous it would be for him to get roped into something like this. 

“Right, of course,” she whispered, taking her hand away from him and turning around, walking away. He watched her body as she floated across the room, his eyes glued to her ass that was begging to be touched by him. 

“(Y/N)...” Aaron whispered, calling for her, unable to stand the feeling of her being away from him. She turned towards him, walking back slowly, taking her time and letting him simmer in anticipation as she made her way back to the center of the room. When she made her way back to him, he grabbed her chin with his hand, tilting her face up towards him, her lips inches from his. 

“I would never want somebody like you. You are a bad person, no matter what you try to say to me.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Agent,” she smirked, her lips almost brushing against his as she formed them into a smile. 

At that moment, it felt like any self control Aaron had flew directly out the window. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her body into his and kissing her. It was a kiss that was draped in desperation, anger, lust. His tongue made no attempt to be gentle, selfishly exploring her small mouth and he picked her up and sat her on a table. He tore his shirt off, his desire to be touched, to touch her, overcoming any restraint he had before. 

He picked her up, her small frame easy for his trained body to carry swifty to the couch. He threw her down on her back, her body writhing under his, moaning his name so loud that he was sure the club goers downstairs could hear. He wrapped his hands around her neck, gripping gently, listening to her gasp for air as he slid up her dress to reveal nothing underneath. 

“You’re just begging for me, aren’t you,” he teased, pulling his hard cock out from his boxers and teasing her entrance with his tip. She nodded slowly at him, unable to speak as he still had his hand gripped around her throat. He was aching to hear her voice again, so he released his hand, getting turned on at the mark he left on her. 

He slipped into her slowly, no time to waste on foreplay. He knew he needed her now, that their time was limited and it was only a matter of time before his common sense kicked in and he got out of there. But for the moment, he was sloppily pounding into her, not caring who saw or heard, desperately needing to be as close to her as possible. 

He came quickly, the euphoria of feeling another woman for the first time in months too much for him to control. She came too, though. He could tell she wasn’t faking- he could feel it. After they finished, he quickly put his clothes back on, (Y/N) continuing to lay breathlessly on the couch. He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something- ask him to stay, kiss him goodbye. But she just pulled herself up and walked towards the other side of the room, grabbing and lighting another cigarette.

“You should go.” (Y/N) instructed, not even bothering to look up at the man who just came inside her moments ago. 

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know. They’ll kill you.” Aaron’s mouth was dry, watching the trail of smoke that followed her as she floated around the room, refusing to give him even a second of her time. 

“What do I have to live for?” She asked, finally dragging her tired eyes to his and smiling, one of the first real, and saddest, smiles he had seen from her. 

Aaron tried to think of something else to say, racking his brain for the correct words to say. But he continuously came up empty, and he realized he was starting to look more and more suspicious the longer he stood there. He decided to walk away, ignore the part of him that refused to tear away from her. 

He walked soberly down the stairs, out onto the street and to his car. As he sat in his drivers seat and started the engine, feeling his face get hot, the rare feeling of wet eyes as he began to cry. And then he started to laugh. An uncontrollable cackle that spilled out of him like a waterfall. It was comical, to look back over the past few months and relive all of the bullshit he had been through. He didn’t even recognize the person in the mirror anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because the person he used to be was the same person that let Haley die. 

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Aaron tried to pretend he didn’t spend every day over the next week thinking about her. The way her soft skin felt when he touched her, the way her lips tasted like bubblegum and her hair smelled like cherries. When he imagined her in his head, everything felt so distant, like he was barely holding on to a dream of her. He could feel her memory slipping away every second, and he couldn’t let that happen. 

He had to see her again, and soon. He wondered if she was thinking about him as well, if she remembered the mint chapstick he was wearing, or the Dolce cologne he was wearing. It made him sick, thinking that she forgot him. (Y/N) had slowly become everything to him, what if he was just a passing thought for her? 

The team had landed back in DC an hour ago, solving a case in Miami that was one of the easier ones they had had this year. Aaron was grateful for the slight break, his brain not completely in the right headspace. 

He rushed to finish up the closing paperwork, scribbling his words sloppily and without much care for grammar. He knew as soon as Strauss read his, she would call him and question his mental state. But he didn’t care. He just needed to get the hell out of here tonight, and if that meant sitting through another of Strauss’s evaluations, it was worth it. 

As he was signing the last of the documents, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He grabbed it with caution, not sure who would be calling him this late at night. The call was coming from an unknown number, and Aaron immediately worried something had happened to Jack. He was away at his grandparents this week, planning on staying a few more days. He answered the phone nervously, preparing for whatever horror was to come. 

“Hello, Agent,” a female voice said, a voice he instantly recognized as (Y/N)’s. Her voice flowed smoothly like silk even over the phone. It was truly hard to believe how she had managed to perfect every aspect of herself. 

“Why- how are you calling me?” He looked around cautiously, making sure no one could secretly hear any part of the phone call. 

“I’m flying to Paris this weekend, a little well deserved vacation. I was calling to see if you’d like to join me.” 

“I… Paris? I can’t just fly to Paris.” Aaron chuckled into the phone, the idea of someone just getting up and deciding to fly halfway across the world with no plan truly comical to him. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d called the Fun Police. I thought this was Aaron Hotchner,” she teased. He could feel her smiling through the phone, a warmth that somehow seemed to wrap him even though he could only see her in his thoughts. 

“I can have fun…” he argued, biting his lip awkwardly, not wanting to seem inferior to her. 

“When was the last time you did something for yourself, Agent? Have you ever just… been spontaneous?” 

“(Y/N), you don’t understand-” 

“Call me A on the phone. It’s safer,” she instructed, her voice losing its soft luster as her professional side kicked in. 

“A… my job, my life… it doesn't leave room for spontaneity.” 

“No, Agent. That’s your choice. I’ll be at the jet runway at Dulles in two hours. Think about it. I’ll wait for you.” She hung the phone up, not giving him room to protest. He set the phone down on his desk, instantly missing her even more than he did before. Jack was going to be with his grandparents for three more days, and he did have some saved up vacation time. But what would he tell the team? What would he tell Strauss? 

His phone vibrated again, this time only a single buzz to indicate a text message. He flipped his phone over and saw a new message from an Unknown number. 

Life doesn’t have to be so complicated, Agent. It is much too short to spend this much time suffering. Learn to enjoy your days. 

A

He reread the message a thousand times, knowing the words would still reign true no matter how much he tried to convince himself she was in the wrong. He had spent his whole life serving others, and he was okay with it, until now. Maybe if he had lived without complication, and enjoyed his days, his life would be completely different… 

He ran home and quickly packed a bag, letting Strauss and Rossi know he needed some ‘alone time’ for a few days. They didn’t question it- one nice thing about having a recent trauma, he thought. He took an Uber to the airport, praying that (Y/N) kept her promise and waited for him. 

When he finally arrived on the runway, he noticed her immediately. It was as if even being near her set an alarm off inside of him, like every part of his brain was awake, feeling her energy from a hundred feet away. 

He thanked the Uber driver and ran to her, bag in hand. As he got to her, he noticed her face. She wasn’t surprised or shocked in the slightest- she knew he’d come. She somehow knew every move he would make. Was he that predictable… or was it something special between them?

“I have to be home in three days,” he said, breathlessly, overjoyed at the sight of his girl. 

“We can do a lot in three days,” she responded, smiling wickedly. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and embracing him. It was such a nice feeling to be held, comforted. He felt like he could stay there in her arms for years. But she broke the hug pretty quickly, motioning for one of her men to take care of the bags and began walking towards the jet. 

As he followed her up the stairs and into their own private world, he started to remember everything he was leaving behind. The realization of just how impulsive this was dawned on him as he looked back at the city behind him. He felt dizzy, leaning on the railing for support as he shakily walked up. 

“You alright?” (Y/N) asked, placing a hand on his arm to steady him. 

“This is crazy, (Y/N). I just can’t believe I’m doing this.” 

They continued to walk into the jet, her hand intertwined in his as they sat down and the door closed behind them. A man came out from behind the curtain, who Aaron immediately recognized as the same man who greeted him both times he met her. 

“Aaron, this is my… well, assistant, I guess. Jay, this is my new friend, Aaron.” She waved to Jay slightly, instructing him to come closer. 

“It’s good to meet you sir. Can I get the two of you anything to drink?” Jay was a short boy, couldn't have been more than 25. He clearly worshipped the ground she walked on, which seemed to be par for the course with men she knew. 

“Oh, hmm,” she thought, closing her eyes for a moment as she racked her brain for a decision. “Whiskey sour. What would you like?” She turned towards Aaron, the subtle tilt of her head reminding him of how pretty her neck looked with his hands around it. 

“I’ll do a Scotch, neat,” he ordered, something so enticing about ordering a drink on a private jet to Paris. 

“I’ll grab those for you now. Matt is ready to take off, A, are you all set?” Jay turned back towards his boss, his eyes widening like a puppy as he waited for her words. 

“I’m ready to go Jay, thank you,” she smiled, looking at him quickly before bringing her attention back to Aaron. Jay took her disinterest as a sign to leave and make their drinks, so he shuffled away quickly after she looked away. 

He came back with their drinks a moment later, leaving quickly after and closing himself in the cockpit. The jet began to take off shortly after, and Aaron took a long sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm any nerves he had left. He started at (Y/N) dreamily, as she shuffled through her phone and a pile on various paperwork on her lap. 

“Sorry, Agent, just finishing up some work,” she whispered, her eyes still staring down. 

“Mmm, it’s okay,” he responded, just happy to be in the same place as her again. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” she smiled, setting her work aside and bringing her attention to Aaron. 

“Why did you kick me out the other night? After…” His voice trailed off, shifting awkwardly in his seat. 

“I figured it be best for you. I didn’t want to wrap you up with my life… with me. But in all honesty, I can’t stop thinking about you. I called you tonight, and told myself if you didn’t show, I’d move on. But… you’re here.” 

“I’m here,” he whispered back, his eyes tracing down her body, craving her once again. 

“I feel like we have something special, Agent,” she whispered seductively, climbing out of her seat and walking towards him. 

“I missed you… I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” he moaned as she bent towards him, her lips kissing down his neck and playing with the collar of his shirt. She unbuttoned the top buttons, kissing his chest and moving her hand to his inner thigh. She trailed her fingers up his thigh, teasing his cock with the slightest touch. His hips bucked uncontrollably, blood flowing down to him as his desire took over his body. 

She got down on her knees, toying with his belt buckle. She was clearly trying to make him wait, the suffering and craving all a part of her game. But he was impatient, so he ripped his belt off himself, undoing his pants and pulling his erect penis out. 

(Y/N) licked her lips in anticipation, wanting to pleasure him as much as he wanted to be pleasured. She played with his tip slowly, toying her tongue around him as he moved underneath her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, slowly pushing her mouth down around him. He wanted her to take all of him, to feel the back of her throat as he shoved his length in her mouth. She moaned quietly as she took him, bobbing her head up and down quickly and sloppily. 

Aaron couldn’t remember the last time he got a blow job- let alone the last time someone enjoyed giving him one. (Y/N) was toying with him, clearly enjoying the pleasure she was able to give him just with her tongue. She looked up at him as he was about to cum, winking as she dragged her tongue up his shaft. The eye contact sent him over the edge, causing him to release himself in her mouth. She swallowed his cum happily, kissing him on the cheek and sitting back down on her chair. 

He wanted to go to her, give her what she needed now. But he was exhausted, the exhilaration of her taking away all of his energy. He took another hefty sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He buckled his pants back up and readjusted himself in the seat. 

“Don’t hate me, handsome, but I do have to get some work done. Feel free to sleep on the couch, or watch a movie. I’ll let you know when we get there.” She blew him a kiss, teasing him with a wink before losing herself in her work. He wondered what part of her job she could possibly be doing from the seat of a plane. There was truly so much he didn’t know about her, which made it so much more exciting. 

He finished his drink, watching her work in awe as the plane soared over the Atlantic. He felt himself drifting off and didn’t try to stop it, wanting to be fully rested so he could make the most of his time with her. 

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Paris was unarguably Aaron’s favorite place on Earth. Whenever he told people that, they always kind of chuckled. It was kind of a feminine city, at least that’s what everyone told him. But god, he loved it here. The food, the architecture, the people… but most importantly, it was her. 

She had made every second of his life magical. When they landed, she brought him to a small bakery near the Louvre, where they sipped wine and ate the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. It was only 10 AM when they got there, but nobody seemed to pay them any attention as they drunkenly strolled down the Parisian streets, giggling and kissing and living. 

When they finally sobered up, they made their way to a gorgeous hotel, where (Y/N) got the nicest suite available. They ordered a few bottles of champagne, popping them open as soon as they got inside and helping themselves to many glasses. They drank out on the balcony, overlooking the whole city as they downed more alcohol. 

The suite came equipped with a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, which (Y/N) was begging him to take advantage of. She stripped down in front of him, lighting candles and drawing a tub of steaming water. She took a bottle of champagne into the bathroom and soaked herself in the tub, lavender scented bubbles surrounding her. Aaron couldn’t resist the temptation of her body, so he quickly followed after her, stripping down and slipping in the bubbles with her. 

She sat on his lap, he kissed down the back of her neck and nibbled on her flesh. She moved her butt into him, the softness of her flesh pushing into his cock. 

“I told you, sometimes it’s fun to be adventurous.” 

“I never doubted that. I just think this is all… crazy…” 

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” She giggled, pushing bubbles towards him and splashing around the water. 

“Oh do not play games with me,” he laughed, splashing water towards her. She squealed when the water hit her face, scrunching her nose as she wiped the bubbles from her cheeks. 

“Let’s go,” she smirked, standing up and carefully stepping out of the bath. Her skin was glistening from the water, bubbles dripping down her flesh. He stared in awe at her, obsessed with every curve, every inch of her more perfect than the last. She walked slowly out of the bathroom, her butt wiggling with every step. She was clearly calling for him, begging for him to follow her wherever she went. And he would. He did.

He ran after her carefully, finding her naked body wrapped in the fluffy comforter of the bed. She smiled when she saw him, sitting up and wrapping her hands around his neck. She brought his face towards her, kissing him slowly, allowing their lips to enjoy every second they had with each other. 

Aaron’s hands were gripped on her hips, his naked body grinding into hers. He hadn’t known this feeling for a long time- the feeling of complete and total calm. For the first time in an absurd amount of time, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t thinking of every terrible thing that was happening around him. He was only thinking about her- the way her lips felt on his, the way her body moved… his whole life had so suddenly become wrapped up in her. 

But, the trouble was, nothing good in his life stayed. And it was only a matter of time before the universe took her away, too. 

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The rest of their time in Paris went by in a daze. Most of their time they were either drinking or fucking, taking breaks to walk aimlessly around the Louvre and stroll down the Seine. He was heartbroken when he had to go back, but he did miss his son, and was sure the team was falling apart without him. When they landed back in DC, (Y/N) had a car ready to take Aaron home. 

He had a good hour before Jack would be back, so he used his time to take a long shower and brew a strong pot of coffee. It was almost 7 at night, but his body was still messed up from the change in time zones, and he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep that night. He was already missing her, checking his phone every five minutes to see if she would whisk him away on another adventure. 

But, as he quickly learned, she was the type of person to disappear for a while. Aaron didn’t hear from her for seven full days after Paris. Seven full agonizing days of wondering where she was, who she was with, and most importantly- what she was doing. 

Being away from her made it easier for him to realize the reality of their situation. She was a killer; and yeah, maybe she only killed ‘bad’ people, but did that really make it any better? At least, that was the question he was asking himself. Surprisingly, as more time went on, the harder time he had convincing himself she was a villain. Maybe it was because he was falling in love with her, maybe it was because he understood the anger of watching guilty people walk away from things completely unscathed. 

They didn’t speak about work once during their time together, although it was clear Aaron had a lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she could be doing for Strauss and the Director. Who was she killing that they couldn’t get to the normal way? He wanted to know her life, understand the secrets she spent her existence protecting- but it wasn't for him. And maybe that was for the best. The mystery of it all made it… hotter. 

So when he finally heard from her, seven full days later, he felt like a kid on Christmas. He recognized the ‘unknown’ number as it popped up on the screen, stepping into his office so he could speak with her privately. 

“Hi, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke, her voice singing to him. He loved the way she called him Agent. He loved everything about her. 

“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?” 

“Oh, working. You know.” He could tell she didn’t want to speak any more about work, so he changed the subject. 

“Are you back in DC?” 

“For a bit.”

“Can I see you? Let’s get dinner somewhere. Anywhere.” 

“I… we probably shouldn’t be out together like that… if we saw anyone we knew… your team…” She spoke her words carefully, not sure how to tell him that their relationship wasn’t exactly approved of. Aaron had never really thought about it, but the reality made him sick. Would he never be able to love her publicly? Hold her hand at the park, take her to eat at his favorite restaurant, introduce her to his friends? 

But the adrenaline, the euphoria of being with her- it was worth any negatives. He would eat in the dark with her, hide her in his house, runaway with her… 

“Come over to my place, then. We’ll order pizza, watch a movie.” 

“Hah,” she giggled, her laugh airy and full of light just as he remembered. Hearing it made him smile. “I can’t remember the last time I ordered pizza and watched movies with a boy…” 

“Well, given the circumstances, I have to get creative A.” 

“What about Jack?” 

“Oh,” Aaron responded, forgetting for a moment that she had yet to meet his son. He didn’t think twice about it, wanting his son to know the woman that was bringing him so much joy. But was it safe? And did she want to know him? 

“I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“What is happening between us? Are we just messing around… Is there feelings?” He hated to ask her such a loaded question over the phone, but he needed to know the answer- he had to know if she was just as head over heels as she was. 

“Agent, no man I’ve ever ‘messed around’ with has this number.” 

Aaron chuckled, the nervousness in his chest subsiding. 

“Come over tonight, please,” he begged, craving the way her lips felt on his. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Agent.” 

“I’ll see you tonight, A.” 

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Aaron didn’t expect just how wonderful (Y/N) would be with Jack. He had never really seen a maternal side to her before, but she was incredible. Jack took a liking to her as well, even falling asleep between the both of them as they watched Finding Nemo. After they were sure he was asleep, Aaron carried his son to his room and put him to bed, (Y/N) following close behind, in awe of the way Aaron cared for his son. 

“You want a glass of wine?” Aaron whispered to her, the two of them hand in hand as they walked back to the living room. 

“Please!” 

He poured the two of them overly generous glasses of Riesling, snuggling up on the couch next to her and kissing her on the forehead. They tried to find a movie for a bit, scrolling through endless channels before giving up. 

“Can you stay the night?” 

“I wish, but I have to catch an early flight tomorrow,” she frowned, her pout showcasing her perfect lips that he couldn’t get out of his head. 

“Where are you going?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Her face turned pale and emotionless as she thought of a response, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. 

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she responded. 

“I’m sorry.” He felt uncomfortable, not sure exactly what to say to her. They had never had an awkward silence before, and it made him sick as he waited in the quiet for her to respond. 

“I probably should get going,” she finally said, setting her almost empty glass of wine down on the coffee table. 

“Oh, c’mon, we just got some time alone…” he pleaded, but he could tell by the look on her face he had already lost her. 

“I’m sorry, love. I just have a lot to prepare for this case.” 

“I understand. Will I see you soon?” 

“I’ll do my best, Agent.” 

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California was a popular hot spot for serial killers. It seemed like Aaron and the team were there every other week. This time, San Francisco was the lucky city. He had already been there for two days, stuck on an incredibly weird case, when he got the call. 

“Good morning, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke. 

“A… it’s good to hear from you.” He was relieved at the sound of her voice, the dark energy of this specific case seeping into him, choking any optimism out of him. 

“How are things?” 

“I’m working on a tough case, to be honest. It’s taking a lot out of me.” 

“Would it be better if I was there?” 

“How is that possible?” 

“I was… in the area. Set some time aside to stop by.” 

“I’m going to be really busy…” he frowned, realizing now how difficult it would be to actually see her. 

“Oh, Agent, I sure hope you can make time to see me,” she teased, giggling through the phone, her laugh wrapping him in warmth and shielding him from the darkness of reality for a moment. 

“Well, I have to sleep at some point,” he responded, laughing himself. 

“Call me when you get back to your hotel. I’ll be waiting.” 

Aaron hung the phone up quickly, peeking around the corner of the SFPD office they were currently set up in. Luckily, everyone was too busy to listen in on his personal conversations. He wondered what his team would think if they knew what was going on behind closed doors. Would they still stand around and trust the system they were working so hard to uphold? Because Aaron could barely stomach it. 

“Hey, we’ve got a problem,” Derek said, coming around the corner lookingfor his superior. 

“What’s going on?” 

“C’mon into the conference room. Garcia will explain everything.”

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He didn’t make it back to his hotel for another 12 hours. It was nearing 11 PM by the time he finally closed the door and could be done for the day. Although with his job, he was never really off the clock. 

He called (Y/N), pushing aside any exhaustion he had for a moment with her. She was there within twenty minutes, sneaking through the door, giggling and kissing quietly, trying to be secretive. It was risky, extremely risky for them to be together with his team just on the other side of a thin hotel wall. But he couldn’t help himself. A part of him wanted to get caught, be exposed, so they could stop sneaking around. He wanted to love her in front of everyone. 

He forgot about the case briefly as he lost himself in her flesh, kissing her soft skin and making love to her - twice. When the exhaustion finally overcame him, he crawled into her arms and let the horrors of his job overcome him. 

“It’s a bad one, this case,” he divulged, knowing he shouldn’t be telling her the details, but needed a release. He needed to scream, and she was the only one around to hear. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Some CEO’s kid has been going all around the country killing teenage girls. Eevrytime the police get close to him, he just runs. Five different cities, and he’s escaped them all. Thirty six bodies that we can find. Probably more. And he’s going to get away, here, too. Garcia found out he sold his house a few days ago and bought one in Miami.” 

“Well if you know it’s him, why aren’t you arresting him?” (Y/N) had a confused look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips forming a slight pout as she waited for him to respond. 

“We don’t have enough physical evidence. He fits the profile perfectly, and we are able to trace bodies to him in every city he’s lived in. But that’s not good enough for the courts. He’s just going to keep getting away…” Aaron felt his heart pounding, the face of Foyet flashing over and over in his head. 

“Sometimes… the system doesn’t help everybody.” She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes darting nervously around the room. 

“That’s why people like you exist, right? To serve justice to those who escape it.” 

“That’s one way of looking at it.” 

Aaron looked at her, her cheeks flushed and her breathing sporadic. They were thinking the same thing, it was only a guessing game on who would break the silence first. He didn’t think it would be here, she was too nervous. 

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, placing a hand on hers. 

“What are you asking me to do, Agent?” She finally looked up at him, her face flat and emotionless, a side of her she had never shown him before. It was her work face, her business face. 

“I want you to do your job, A.” 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

“It’s the only way to stop him.” 

“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” She got up out of the bed and started putting her clothes back on, slowly redressing herself as she prepared to go back to work. She grabbed one of the three phones she carried, hastily dialing a number and putting the old cell to her ear. 

“Hey, it’s me. I need the car here ASAP, and the bag... Yeah, it’s a change of plans. … I’ll tell you in the car.” She hung the call up and put the phone back in her bag, refusing the look at Aaron the entire time she was preparing herself. 

“You’re doing this now?” He laughed, getting up and trying to stop her from leaving. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, her body struggling to get away. She felt tense, tired. Her body was no longer surrounded by it’s usual warm glow. She was cold, and dark. She wasn’t her.

“Agent, if this is what you want, I need to handle it my way. Please let me go.” 

“Will you… can I see you after?” 

“I need to leave the city immediately after it’s done. And it’s best we don't talk for a bit. I can call you when I think things are safe.” 

“How long is a bit? I mean, I don’t want to give you up.” 

“You can’t have both, Aaron. Either I’m (Y/N) or I’m Ananke. Do you want more girls to die? Or do you want a girlfriend?” She was yelling, her voice a loud and intense version of itself that he was unfamiliar with. It made him dizzy. He sat down clumsily on the bed and put his face in his hands. 

“Kill him,” he mumbled. She was quiet for a few seconds, and so was he. And awkward silence. Something they had never had. He felt like she was staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“I’ll call you when I can, Agent. It’s been wonderful working with you.” 

Aaron swore as she walked out the door he could hear her cry. Maybe he was making it up to make himself feel better. There was no way she could walk away that easily and not … hurt. He hurt, so terribly bad. How long was a bit? A few weeks, months? Would he ever see her again? 

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Aaron awoke to a loud banging on his door and his phone buzzing like crazy. The ringer was on, but not loud enough to awaken him from his alcohol assisted slumber. He shouldn’t be drinking on the job, he knew that rule better than anyone. But he had to shut his mind up. 

He opened the door to a rattled Derek Morgan, his forehead sweating and hands shaking. 

“You are not going to believe this,” Derek said, chuckling slightly. 

“What’s going on, Morgan?” Aaron knew what he was going to say, but he had to pretend to be surprised. Would Derek know? He was by far the best profiler on the team. How long could Aaron keep up a lie before Derek figured something out? 

“Our unsub died last night. Car accident. He hit a railing and his car just… exploded.” Derek held his tablet out to Hotch, showing him various photos from the scene. His car was completely crushed and torched. You could see his body, but there was absolutely no way to tell what was happening at the time of the accident. The damage of the car was far too elaborate to find any remnants of explosives- if that’s what she used. But whatever she did, it was brilliant. There was no way anyone would think twice about this. She was brilliant. 

He could feel himself smiling, being impressed with her work- but he remembered Derek was still standing there, unknowing of the secrets Aaron held. 

“Well, I guess we can finally get the hell out of San Francisco,” Aaron laughed. 

“You think this is the end? He just dies in a freak accident and it's over? Are we that lucky, Hotch?” Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed in the classic way his face always looked when he was suspicious. 

“He’s not around to hurt anyone else, and that’s the end of it. Our jobs are done here. I want wheels up in an hour.” 

Derek just nodded in agreement with his supervisor, realizing it wasn’t worth the argument. Aaron was right, the bad guy was gone and that was good enough for him. 

Aaron closed the door to his hotel, grabbing his phone and dialing her number. He had assumed she’d already disconnected the line, severing their connection for the time. But it rang, and somebody answered. 

“A…?” he whispered, waiting for her voice. 

“You shouldn’t be calling this number,” a man responded, a voice he recognized as Jays. 

“I know, I know, but please. Please just tell her something for me.” Jay was silent for a moment, deciding what to do. 

“... What?” He asked, quietly. 

“Please just tell her I said thank you. For everything.” 

And then the phone disconnected. The call was over. She was gone. For who knows how long? 

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One week later, SSA Aaron Hotchner was sitting in his office when Erin Strauss walked through his door. She didn’t knock, which made him jump. She walked right in and sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath. A disappointed sigh. 

“Hello, Erin.” 

“Agent Hotcher.” She looked at him angrily, her lips pursed and eyes tight as she thought of her words. 

“What can I do for you?” 

“In all honesty, Aaron… did you think we wouldn’t find out? You are a federal agent. Your passport is flagged any time you enter a foreign country. You were in Paris at the same time as her. And then San Francisco? She was there on assignment and your uncatchable unsub just happens to turn up dead?” 

“Am I fired?” He asked, his only thought on what they were doing to her. 

“Aaron… what are you doing? You are losing yourself! If this is about Haley…”  

“Just tell me something. What are you going to do to her?” He bit his lip nervously, Erin avoiding his eye contact.

“Right now she’s being relocated, on a six month assignment. We’ll see what happens after that.” 

“Where?” 

“You know I can’t tell you that!” 

Aaron sat for a moment, completely unsure of what to say next. Maybe Erin was right, he had lost himself. He would’ve never imagined himself in this situation. 

“What do I do now?” 

“You move on. And you do your job, the right way. I’ll cut you some slack this time, Aaron. But if this happens again… there will be consequences. Do you understand?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Erin walked out of his office quietly, closing the door as she left. He waited a moment, a long moment, before pulling out his phone. He had to at least try to talk to her. Even if the number didn’t work. He had to try. 

But it rang. And this time he knew it was her who answered. 

“Agent.” She answered sharply. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m still in DC, as of now.” 

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” 

“You know it doesn’t work like that. Either I go, or they send me to prison. I’m sorry, Aaron. But this… was destined to fail from the beginning.” 

“No, (Y/N). I don’t accept that. I love you.” 

“You can’t. I’m sorry, Agent. This is goodbye.” 

[bellwitchfaggot]

donations post :L please read we have a month

hi. so. for those who don’t know, my fiance @lovecoreclownery and i are currently trying to move out of my toxic parents’ house into an apartment next month. we are hoping to be approved for the apartment this upcoming week and if we are, we have enough money for the deposits and stuff. the thing is that i can’t work for a few reasons, one being my severe disability which prevents me from holding down normal jobs (i’m actively trying to get on disability for this but it’s a long and shitty process).

the other reason is that my dad, who is 52, is probably going to be diagnosed with early onset alzheimer’s soon (he has already been diagnosed with severe cognitive decline after earlier this year going on an extreme alcoholic binge and then being hospitalized for psychosis and cognitive dysfunction) and he cannot really work or function the way a healthy adult man typically does. he forgets how to do simple tasks and he needs me to come over and help him out throughout the day. he is quickly declining and even if i didn’t have a neurological and physical disability that prevented me from working, i would probably not be able to work for a while now because no one else is in a position to be able to care for him and help him right now

anyway, my partner parker is actively working on getting a job but that is, obviously, sometimes a long and arduous process as well. my parents try to help us out financially because they know it’s hard since i can’t work but they themselves do not have much money because my dad was fired from his job during his psychotic episode earlier this year and is not being given unemployment, and they’re having to pay for a pet scan out of pocket because my parents’ insurance will not cover the scans required to diagnose him with alzheimer’s. on top of this, they are both gambling addicts and don’t have the ability to consistently provide financial support because of this. they are also...kind of toxic influences on my life and i want to avoid relying on them anymore than i have to anyway.

so since we have the money saved up for deposits (thanks to a previous donations post from last month), we are trying to save up as much as possible so we can pay for rent, utilities, groceries, gas, meds, etc for as long as possible while i work on getting on disability and parker works on getting a job. right now my goal is $3k, which feels like a lot and i don’t expect to get that much really, but it’s realistically what we would need to be able to stay afloat for 3-4 months (which hopefully is all the time i’ll need to complete the disability process)

if anyone can spare anything, it’d be very helpful. just for full disclosure my grandmother died 5 days ago after a long battle with alzheimer’s and i’m in a really rough spot, emotionally/stress wise because over half of my support system just moved across the country, i’m having severe health issues and have been for months (in near constant pain and will likely need to have my gallbladder removed by the end of the year), and the impending responsibility of being my father’s main caretaker as he declines cognitively is...weighing heavily on me because i’ve just spent the past 2 years caring for my grandmother for the same issues. so if anyone has anything they’re willing to give, or if anyone is willing to signal boost this post, that would mean so, so much to me.

tldr; i can’t work due to multiple issues and my partner is currently jobless and we are trying to save money to move out of my toxic parents’ house and be able to stay afloat for several months while i work on getting disability and they work on finding a job. our current goal is $3k, my paypal is here (paypal.me/bmezzo69) and my venmo is $bmezzo. if anyone can donate or signal boost it would mean a lot

[quietlyimplode]

Whumptober2020 - Day 5 - Rescue

Tony/ Pepper + Clint/Nat

Day 1 - waking up restrained // Day 2 - kidnapped // Day 3 - manhandled // Day 4 - caged

“What if she’s not ok Tony?” Pepper says quietly. Pepper knows Natasha’s history more than most; disclosed to her through conversation and work. Tony only knows because he’s hacked all her files. Shield, the KGB, anything really he could get his hands on. He may know more about her history than she does. Not that he’ll ever tell her that. Natasha knows that he’s memorised all of her and somehow he’s not dead. Maybe it’s like having a witness; someone to see all your bad and all your scars and still treat you as human. Isn’t that all anyone wants?

“She’s always ok, Pep.” He says reassuringly. “She’s always ok,” but this time more to himself. Ending the call, he focuses on flying.

——-

The call comes through on his phone which, he chooses to ignore; he’s almost got it, he just needs to - if the damn thing won’t stop ringing. Sighing softly, Tony covers his ears and turns up the music outside. It’s rare for Clint to call him but he really hates answering the phone and does not want to hear what’s happening - not on his own terms at least. Let him leave a voice mail if it’s so urgent.

Continuing to focus on his build; Tony is blissful; for once competing priorities are at a low and he knows that he can dedicate his time to this, it’s something for him, and no one is going to-

“Tony?”

He feels his eyes roll to the back of his head. If he could, he would groan; but it’s Pepper and he respects her too much to tell her to go away. But he wants to; he really really wants to.

“Tony, it’s Clint.”

Pepper puts the phone on his table and puts it on speaker. Clint wastes no time.

“Natasha’s been kidnapped. She was taken off the roof of our hotel adjacent building. There was a struggle. I need your help. This is a secure line.”

Each sentence is like a blow.

He wants to ask Clint why he’s calling him. Why not go through the proper channels; though instinctively he knows why. He’s faster. He has way more of a chance of finding Natasha than any one else does - he has the tech and the ability to analyze quicker than any of them; and Clint knows it.

He starts hacking into their last mission debrief;

“Where are you?”

There’s a beat and Tony assumes Clint’s looking at the coordinates on his phone. Converting them quickly into a 3D model rendering he’s suddenly in Rabat, Morocco.

“Rabat? You’re in Rabat?” What the actual fuck. He saw the pair yesterday. Actually; was it yesterday? Maybe it was the day before. He forgets he loses time.. Maybe he needs a clock that sporadically says the date and time or he could program The Robot to do it. He does some quick calculations.

“That’s a 12 hour flight commercial, maybe 6 by quinjet, maybe 2 by suit. I’ll re-task one with medical now.”

Putting Clint on mute he looks towards Pepper who hasn’t left the spot she was standing in. She looks scared and worried and hasn’t moved an inch.

“Pepper?” Moving over to her, he tucks some loose hair behind her ear, “you with me?”

She gives a nod, “yeah.”

“Yeah?” He sees her try to swallow this down. He takes her hand. “I need your help. Will you be ok in the quinjet? We’ll need to pick them up once they’re safe.”

Pepper stands straighten herself and nods, confidently.

“I can do that, I’ll pick up the medical team on the way.”

She’s coming back to herself now. All business.

“Can you send the co-ordinates when you know them? The quicker I go, the quicker I get there.”

He’s shaken her loose now, Pepper knows there’s time for grief and worry and fear when this is over. Battle stations.

This isn’t the first time, he’s sure it won’t be the last. Today Natasha, tomorrow him. Who knows.

He does wish it wasn’t Natasha though and he knows it’s now personal for Pepper as well.

Their friendship borne of being in male dominated fields - a powerful alliance of friendship and knowledge.

Pepper sets off, transferring the call to Tony so she can make calls to the relevant authorities to land their jet in the airspace.

Tony unmutes Clint and turns back to the task at hand.

“I’m looking at satellite footage, when was she taken?”

The silence that hangs makes it clear that Clint doesn’t know.

“We got back to the hotel, ate and then she left for the scout point. She was on first watch. I think she has her earpiece in. Can you track that?”

Tony doesn’t even touch on the fact that Natasha and Clint wear Starktec earpieces in missions; and not the generic ones. Natasha must have hooked them up to the correct frequencies so that no one would be the wiser.

He types quickly, looking for the relevant frequencies and pings any radio waves off that one. He bypasses the ones that are in Spain and Portugal - whilst feasible she may have been taken there it’s more likely they kept her in country. Narrowing it down he finds a likely mark - it’s a weak signal but feels like it adds up.

“She’s about 21 miles from you, the earpiece is pinging from an importer warehouse.”

He checks his suit and calculates how quickly he can get there, maybe two hours at full speed? Grabbing a quick drink of water and granola bar he starts to head out, filling Clint in as he goes.

“I can meet you there but it’s going to take me around two hours flying at full speed; even if we get her the jets going to be 4 hours behind me. Do you have a plan?”

He waits for Clint to say anything and when he doesn’t he realises that Clint’s running on fumes.

“I’m on my way. Head to the warehouse; I know you are anyway, and I’ll meet you there. The warehouse is guarded - I would advise not to engage tactically it’d be better to have a diversion and get her out when attention is elsewhere.”

Tony is the the launch pad, pushing off he thinks out loud “Who are these guys?”

He has the warehouse on his holo, the warehouse is swarming. He wants to be clear to Clint that going in solo is suicide, Natasha appears to be in the bowels of the warehouse and he only knows that because the signal she gives off is so weak. Underground is the only thing that makes sense.

“Clint; so you know; they’re everywhere. If you can; wait for my signal. Get yourself in position I’ll be there as soon as I can, I’m swapping to your comms line now. The jets already left, Pepper is on board, and a med team”

He checks Pepper’s whereabouts, she’s done well to get out so quick.

“They’ll be there in just under 6 hours. We will have to get her out and get to the airport.”

Tony thinks for a minute. If they can get her location maybe they can talk to her.

“ Let’s try and get her on coms.. If she’s conscious…” he leaves that thought hanging.

He concentrates on the directions he’s getting and the trajectory path of New York to Morocco.

“Anyway. I’m now on comms, I’ll catch you soon bird boy. Hang tight.”

Tony disconnects.

He can zone out whilst flying but doesn’t; he calls Pepper to check in.

“You ok?” He opens, sending the airport coordinates to the quinjet.

Pepper answers with a yes, let’s him know she’s received the info and lets Dr Cho say hello. That’s good, Natasha likes (which may be a too strong a word) the good doctor. At least they have more of a chance of getting her stable and to a hospital should it be necessary. They’ve also picked up medical supplies and the jets stocked with some food and water.

“What if she’s not ok Tony?” Pepper says quietly. Pepper knows Natasha’s history more than most; disclosed to her through conversation and work. Tony only knows because he’s hacked all her files. Shield, the KGB, anything really he could get his hands on. He may know more about her history than she does. Not that he’ll ever tell her that. Natasha knows that he’s memorised all of her and somehow he’s not dead. Maybe it’s like having a witness; someone to see all your bad and all your scars and still treat you as human. Isn’t that all anyone wants?

“She’s always ok, Pep.” He says reassuringly. “She’s always ok,” but this time more to himself. Ending the call, he focuses on flying.

-

Clint contacts him to let him know he’s arrived. Checking the screen he lets Clint know he’s about 45 minutes out. He marks out Clint - knowing now where he is from the feedback of his earpiece and watches as he move around the warehouse. Less than ten minutes pass before he’s back to where he started. There’s static in his earbud and they’re just in time to hear Natasha yelling Clint’s name.

Tony double checks - Clint must have cleared up the frequencies. Clint's saying her name reverently but Tony needs to know what she knows; apparently though, Natasha knows less. She doesn’t sound good though. Her breath is hitching and there’s definitely something she’s not telling them.

“We’re coming for you,” he says; more to himself than to Natasha

He boosts his thrusters and tries to turn 30 minutes into 5. He’s twenty minutes away when it starts.

Screaming.

Natasha screaming. It is confronting and hurts him to his soul. His nightmares will have nightmares about this.

He sees Clint scrambling.

Fuck.

“Clint! Wait! Don’t go in!”

He gets it, he does, but there’s too many of them. He sets off two smaller missiles, targeted for the front of the building. He hopes the building has some sort of structural integrity that it doesn’t collapse on his team mates. He sends off another on to firework and draw fire. Natasha is still screaming and coughing and moaning. Sounds that no-one should be making. It’s going on too long. How many rounds of this were there for her?

And then there’s silence.

They’ve either injected her with something or killed her.

He pushes his body and his suit to get there faster, and upon arrival it’s a clean up mission. They don’t feel professional or well organised - but he draws more fire on arrival and takes a perverse pleasure in counting them out. He sees Clint arrive at Natasha; and almost feels that he shouldn’t be a part of this intimacy; this rawness.

Clint's trying to rouse her, he’s saying her name with tenderness, there’s nothing until…

Tony feels a bit like crying at whimper and moans that are coming from Natasha. It’s at odds with the woman who gives the best poker face; even when she’s stubbed her toe on the corner of a table or rocks up to debrief with a broken arm and a black eye like it’s nothing.

He lands close to the black car that Clint’s obviously stole, and waits for him to come out. Clint’s bundled Natasha in a blanket. Eyeballing her, she’s semi-conscious but not all there, he’s not even sure she’s aware that he’s there.

“I’ll meet you at the airport,” Clint acknowledges that he’s spoken and puts Natasha in the passenger seat.

Tony links in with Pepper who lets him know they’ll be there in less than an hour, thank god. He lets her know they’ve got Natasha but she’s in rough shape.

He’s waiting at the airport and greets the jet when it lands.

“They’ll be here soon.” He says by way of greeting.

Pepper nods. He acknowledges Dr Cho, and thanks her for coming.

Cho knows Natasha is a horrible patient, preferring to suffer in silence.

Tony could go a lifetime without Natasha being hurt and hearing those sounds ever again. He’s switched off the comms hearing Clint talk everything and nothing to keep Natasha awake.

They wait in relative silence. Tony watches them arrive and Pepper follows him out to greet them.

Clint is holding her and there’s blood everywhere. Pepper gasps audibly and heads back into the quinjet to find Dr Cho, they get her into the jet, and Tony helps straps Clint in - he goes to wrap it around Natasha as well but is stopped by the shake of a head.

“She needs to go to the hospital,” Tony says to no one in particular.

Cho is eyeballing Natasha from the side.

“Do you think she’ll let me look at her?”

They watch Natasha move and bury herself into Clint’s arms. They all hear her rattling breath.

“Clint,” Tony tries again, “medical are the only ones who can deal with all of this.”

He watches Natasha tremble in Clint’s arms and then as he brushes her hair away from her ear. He pretends not to hear Clint ask Natasha whether she wants to be sedated. The shake of her head cements her position in stone.

Tony looks to Cho, “anything you can do from here?”

Clint looks scandalous.

“Fuck off Tony, she said no.”

“She’s losing blood, Clint! She’s clearly got broken ribs, I can hear her breathing. Not to mention a concussion - and I can see the taser burns.”

Clint looks uncomfortable.

“She said no, Tony. I’m not going make her.”

Tony drops it. Sarcastically apologises to Cho for coming.

They’re about 3 hours in when Natasha starts to seize.

——-

Hopefully chuck this under a cut tomorrow. Tomorrow we continue from this one leaves off.

[krsnlove]

Halloween Phases

A/N: An idea came to me one night about the different phases we go through in life and how holidays/important events and their associated activities can change. Also, I know we’re in November ...Don’t. Just don’t Lol. 

Pairing: Bryce x Casey

Rating: PG

SINGLE MAN

“Did you see Lahela’s costume?”

Casey scrolled through her patient’s chart, reading the results of the lab work drawn earlier, unbothered by Sienna’s question.

“Surprised he’s dressed as someone else other than his meathead self,” Jackie arched a single brow at the news.

“What’s he dressed as?,” Elijah asked as he straightened the plush E.T. doll of his Halloween costume.

“Oh, you’ll see. By the way,” Sienna adjusted the strings to her Red Riding Hood outfit, “the contest for Best Costume ends in an hour. I hope you all voted. The winner gets a $50 Visa gift card.”

“$50. Wow. The hospital sure is pulling out all the stops.”

“I’d be negative too if I lost,” Elijah gave Jackie a pitiful stare in her usual work attire. “Where’s your Halloween spirit?!”

“Right here,” she flashed her middle finger in his direction with a wide smile before walking away. “Byeeee!”

“She’ll be sorry when she sees what I’m going to buy with my winnings,” Elijah proudly smiled before wheeling himself away. “I’ll see you guys at home!”

Sienna watched him turn the corner down the hallway before turning her attention back to Casey.

“So, have you seen Bryce’s costume?”

Sienna made sure her question didn’t go unanswered as she tapped her pen on the computer screen, forcing Casey to look up from the screen.

“I haven’t,” she blinked a few times, surprised to see her still there.

“It’s pretty good,” Sienna’s cheeks color slightly. “I mean, it’s not too bad to look at. You should check it out.”

Casey studied her usual calm friend, nervously surveying the nurses station they were at.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine it’s just...it’s hot in here, isn’t it?” She closes her eyes for a brief moment as she begins to dab her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Weren’t you just complaining about it being cold earlier?”

“No. No. It’s hot now!,” Sienna begins to fan herself with one hand. “I wonder what...what do you think the temperature is in here?”

“Sien, it’s only--,” Casey’s sentence is cut off as a familiar voice comes from behind her.

“It’s one Lahela degrees!”

Casey turns to face the familiar voice. Bryce stood there, fully dressed in his Halloween costume: a firefighter. Or, Casey’s eyes slowly take in him being shirtless with suspenders holding up the yellow latex shorts, almost sort of fully dressed as a firefighter.

She can’t help the smile that comes to her as Bryce stands there beaming with pride.

“How long were you two working on that?,” she looked to Sienna who playfully shrugged her shoulders before walking away leaving you alone with Bryce.

“I owe you, Double Oh Tiny!”

Casey stands from her seat and sits on the edge of the desk, watching Bryce begin to greet each passerby.

“Quit shopping at the toy store for your clothes Lahela,” Zaid groaned before turning around and walking the opposite direction.

Ines is barely able to form a sentence when she looked up from her notes and saw Bryce in his costume. It was a wonder she didn’t walk into a wall when he escorted her to the safety of the elevators.

“Is it too much to ask to go a week without seeing you shirtless?,” Ethan shook his head as he walked past him with Rafael following close behind.

“Seriously Lahela. Do you even own shirts?”

“Okay Jealous #1 and Jealous #2. I’ll see you guys at tomorrow’s game,” Bryce called out after them before turning to face Casey once again.

“So…,” her head tilt slightly to the side, “big fan of Halloween I take it?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Why would I want to pretend to be someone else when my life is already great? Besides,” he took off his helmet and wiped at the smudge on the shield, “$50 is $50. I love a good contest.”

“Bryce Lahela, did you just share something personal with me? Be careful. We might become friends if you keep it up.”

A smug smile came to him as he put his helmet back on and looked at her determinedly.

“I’m counting on it, Valentine.”

MARRIED MAN

“Babe, please?!”

“Absolutely not Lahela!”

Bryce kept the laugh threatening to surface at watching his pregnant wife waddle away from him, signaling the end of their discussion. It had been weeks of scouring the internet for an idea and even longer for Amazon to deliver the costumes.

And after an extremely convincing argument, or so he thought, to his wife, Bryce was all too set to don the blue body paint and glossy pants like the Genie from Disney’s Aladdin.

“You’re not putting that thing on me!”

Casey’s adamant voice echoes from their bedroom down the hall.

“Have you talked to Sienna lately?,” he casually asked while picking up the genie lamp costume.

“No. Why?”

“They’re having another Best Dressed Costume Contest.”

The sound of Casey’s mocking laugh overpowered the sound of an episode of the Golden Girls; Her latest series binge.

“$50 will only cover my cravings for one night Lahela. You know that better than anyone.”

Bryce laughed out loud at that, thinking back on the last few nights of his 3AM food runs whenever a new inspiration struck for a strange food combination.

“It’s not $50.”

“$51?,” she scoffed.

“Not exactly,” he sat down at the kitchen table still holding onto her costume. “Winner this year doesn’t get any money.”

“Wasting my time Lahela.”

“You’re right. I mean who would be interested in a month's supply of chocolate?”

The familiar voices of Blanche Devereaux and Dorothy Zbornak lowered, just slightly, from the TV in the bedroom.

“Chocolate?”

Casey’s curious yet cautious tone brought a smirk to Bryce’s lips.

“Yeah,” he said regretfully, “And pickles. Can you believe that? What is anyone going to do with a bunch of chocolate and jars of pickles?!”

Bryce can hear her footsteps growing closer as he holds up the undesirable costume.

“Not a word Lahela,” Casey tells him just before snatching it from his hands.

FAMILY MAN

Jackie straightened the gold cuffs covering both her wrists. Never mind the sleeves of her doctor’s lab coat hid them once she put her arms back down. Or the fact that the majority of her Cleopatra costume is hidden if she didn’t purposely pull her doctor’s coat back.

“This is the year guys,” she announced to anyone within earshot.

Elijah, fully dressed as a Roman soldier with his wheelchair made up to look like a chariot, glanced up at her for a moment then back down at his phone.

“You said that last year.”

“Wasn’t Casey’s baby bump last year dressed as the genie’s lamp adorable?!,” Sienna chimed in.

“That was a cheap shot,” Jackie pointed out. “Anyone who uses their child, unborn or not, to win a contest isn’t afraid to hit below the belt.”

“And,” Rafael unenthusiastically added, “Big surprise. Lahela upped it last year by not only being shirtless but had blue body paint on too.”  

Sienna chuckled at the memory of Bryce smearing blue paint on her lab coat last year after announcing him and Casey as the winners. 

In an attempt to boost morale at the hospital, the costume contest was born. Watching her colleagues slowly participate each year was thrilling especially knowing they weren’t in it for the prize. Bryce’s winning streak was enough to bring the competitive spirit out of everyone.

“I’m going to knock him right into a v-neck shirt. He seems the type to wear one if....you know, he actually were to wear one,” a smug smile spread across Jackie’s lips.

“Hopefully with a sweater on too,” Ethan casually mentioned while walking by, perusing a file he had in his hand. Even the infamous diagnostician participated in this year’s contest with a Halloween-themed tie.

“Sienna, will you please announce the winner already?,” Aurora bit out. “If Elijah’s chariot run over my toes one more time…”.

He grimaces at the reminder and avoids her glare.  

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Bryce and Casey?”

Ines’s voice cut through the icy tension between Aurora and Elijah. A delightful expression crosses her motherly features as she took in the variety of costumes surrounding her. The boost of morale at the hospital around this time of year never fails to bring a smile to her face.

“They both know how to tell time. It’s not our fault they’re late,” Jackie stood with folded arms.

Just then the familiar sound of the elevator doors being opened caused everyone to face the same direction and out step Bryce and Casey in their Halloween costumes with their newest family member in Bryce’s arms.

“I know the both of you must be cold,” Aurora shook her head, eyeing Casey’s one-piece bathing suit and Bryce’s red lifeguard shorts.

“The winners,” Bryce’s voice is almost above a whisper as he motioned to his daughter fast asleep in his arms, “are here!”

Jackie points to their daughter, fully covered in a shark costume.

“Below. The. Belt!”

Casey gently folded back the material of the costume obstructing her daughter’s face. 

“Our little baby shark has had a long day. Scouring the ocean waters for her next victim and all,” she shot a playful wink at Jackie.  

Elijah begins to clap in total awe of the commitment the couple had in the contest.

“I vote for you guys. Mostly because of the cute baby shark in your arms but since you came with her…”.

“Weren’t you saying something about knocking a certain someone into a v-neck shirt?,” Rafael nudged a begrudging Jackie.

“Bite me.”

“Look out for your lab coat Sienna,” Jackie’s glare at Bryce and Casey softened once her eyes settled on her goddaughter.

“Looks like Lahela is going to get spray tan on it when he comes to hug you.”

Tagging: @alj4890 @vickypoochoices @anotherbeingsworld need more Bryce shippers LoL

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Guilty. (Part 4.)

Part Four.

Steve Rogers (Lawyer AU) x Reader Insert.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Alcoholism, drunk driving, a bit of angst. Plot twist! Natasha Romanoff is that bitch, Pepper Potts is cute and domesticated, Tony Stark has this whole thing figured out, and Y/n is left alone to fill in the pieces.

Notes: The media has been very overwhelming the past few days and I’m really struggling to wrap my head around everything going on. I am a person of color, I do sympathize with the movement, but this is crazy and too much. If anyone needs to talk my asks are open, I don’t mind discussing it, but if it’s overwhelming for you as well, it’s perfectly fine to log out and collect your thoughts. Remember to take care of yourself, and stay safe. Be informed, and remain aware.

Masterlist.

Part Four: 

Natasha looks nervous when you pick her up from her office, she tells you that you should be too, she also compliments you on your lipstick. "Where's Steve?" 

You shake your head, and she clicks her tongue at you. "Trouble in paradise?"

You would like to think that you could make a friend out of Natasha after all of this, trust her with your secrets and welcome her into your personal life, but you simply can't get a read on her character. One minute she's sweet, kind to you even, then the next she's like a bat out of hell seeking to ruin you, making jabs at everything she can. It confuses you, shakes you up, and brings you back down to earth all in one. She's a whirl wind of a woman, and if you didn't respect her, you wouldn't tolerate it. 

"Steve didn't want me to go." You say. "But if there's the slightest chance that this is true-"

She nods, looking at herself in the visor mirror of your car. "Yeah, it's better than risking it all by going up against him in court."

But Steve is willing to take that risk, he told you that just minutes before you got the call. Does he feel betrayed by this? Are you somehow dishonoring his confessions to you by doing this? All you want is for this to go smoothly. If Tony really is being voted out of his company, this could have a completely different outcome for Bucky and Brock. The only way to find out is to meet with him. 

Steve will be mad for a while, but you're hoping he can see the good in your intentions. 

"We don't always see eye to eye, but I'm prepared to do this." You say. "You're the only person he would agree to bringing along with me." 

She raises and eyebrow at that. "Really? He might actually be telling the truth then." She says. "All his debts to me are paid, and vice versa. Dragging me into this willingly must mean he genuinely needs help." She pauses, slamming the visor closed. "Either that or he plans to burn us after all of this is over." 

You swallow, ignoring her words, choosing to remain optimistic. 

The address he gave you turns out to be a house in a neighborhood out of the city, private property. It works your nerves a bit, anxiety filling your veins as you realize how far out you are, and how remote the area is. You can tell Natasha is thinking the same thing when you look over at her. 

She grabs your arm before you can turn off the car, a look on her face you've never seen before. She's dead serious as she says, "Be open minded. Who knows what he's going to offer, but he's not a bitch. What he says goes, or we walk away with nothing." She lets you go and gets out of the car, fluffing her hair as if she were entirely care free about the situation. 

You take a page out of her book, taking a deep breath before turning off the car and getting out. The house is large, well kept, the lawn cut short, grass a shade of green that almost looks fake. There are flowers lining the walkway up to the front door, a stone path that leads across the lawn and around the back. You try to picture Tony Stark as a family man, wearing shorts and a tank as he waters his plants, his children running around the yard, and it doesn't click with you. But when a woman answers the door, strawberry hair and kind eyes, your mouth goes dry. 

"Y/n, Natasha." She greets you with a smile. "My name is Pepper, I'm Tony's wife." 

Natasha looks unphased, however, your jaw drops. A wife, and a pretty one at that. But you recover quickly, smiling as you stick out your hand. "A pleasure." 

She shakes your hand, fingers worn, but soft. She must be a hard worker, you can tell that by her demeanor. "Please, come inside." 

The house is warm, farm house decor giving a clean, domestic vibe. It's not as large as you expected for a man like Tony Stark, but you decide that maybe that's the whole point. The neighborhood is quiet, the house average, perhaps this is something he wanted, a place to get away from the spotlight, a place to settle down out of public view. 

But why bring you here to talk?

"Tony is in the dining room, straight ahead to the left." Pepper is kind enough to close the door behind you, "Can I get you ladies anything to drink." 

Natasha places her hand on your arm, "We'll have tea please, thank you." 

Pepper nods, rushing off to the kitchen, you glance at Natasha, who smiles at you. "Always ask for the most difficult thing to make. It makes a statement." 

It did make a statement, Pepper probably now views you as a pair of uptight bitches, and that's not the first impression you wanted to give off. But it does state that you're here on business, that while she may be a nice woman, you won't be buttered up by a cute house wife. Natasha knows exactly what she's doing, and you're glad that you brought her along. You've never dealt with someone like Stark before, you're way out of your league. 

Tony is where Pepper said he would be, sitting at the table in the dining room, a tablet in front of him, and it almost makes you laugh at the sight of Tony Stark using such obsolete technology in comparison to his own. 

He looks up with a smile, gesturing to the seats across from him. "Ladies," Is all he says, not bothering to stand or reach out for a handshake. It's not at all professional, but given the circumstances, you can understand why he may not be one hundred percent hospitable. "So you've met the missus then?" He's looking right at you, and indication that Natasha has not only been here before, but also that she knows Pepper well. 

You nod, "She's lovely. I wasn't expecting that at all." 

He chuckles, "If I were in a generous mood I would let you meet my daughter Morgan, you'd love her. Smart mouthed and all." He shifts, sitting up, folding his arms on the table. "I want to get right into it, all bullshit aside. Everything I said on the phone was true. I'm going to prove that here and now, and then together we can decide what to do." 

You're hesitant, because your business partner isn't here, and you can't promise Tony anything that you aren't sure Steve would agree to. So you start off small. "Why did you ask me here of all places?" You ask. 

"It's the only secure location I know they can't get to me." He says, knocking his knuckles against the wooden table. "I have network protection here, everything is hidden and secure and I know for a fact no one is listening to us or watching us." He points to your cell phones. "Those are walking broadcast signals, if anyone is watching me, or you, they can't listen in here." 

Pepper comes in with your tea, setting two cups down in front of you and Natasha. You thank her, admiring the delicate placement of a lemon wedge on the lip of your cup. Natasha goes in for a sip, and you notice that her lipstick is transfer proof this time. She sets her cup back down carefully, clearing her throat, Pepper leaves.

"This is his way of laying all the cards out on the table in hopes that we'll trust him." Natasha says. "He's vulnerable, his family life is a secret, and now you know it. You in turn have to lay your cards out on the table as well." 

It's fair, you now have something to use against him, and the only way to make the playing field even and ensure cooperation is to do the same. 

"Someone on our team is a spy." You say, catching even Natasha off guard. "My assistant, Wanda Maximoff has a twin brother who is working the case on team Stark. We believe the angle might have been for you to try and use her as a spy, but we've kept her away from important work and were going to miss fed her information to report back to you." You shrug. "But seeing as you're here, either you didn't know, or that wasn't your plan." 

He looks confused as he scratches his beard. "I had no fucking clue." He points a finger at you, speechless. "You're good. I wish we didn't have to meet this way." He then turns to Natasha. "She's good. I like her." 

She nods. "She came to me for help, was smart enough to put two and two together." 

You can't help it, hearing the praise boosts your ego, and you go for a sip of tea. If only Steve could see it the same way. 

Tony turns his attention back on you. "Alright, fair enough." He presses his palms flat against the table. "I'm going to tell you everything, and at first it's going to sound outrageous, but the more I talk the more it will make sense." 

He goes on a tangent about his father, Howard, a good man who left behind a good legacy. he also goes on about how he was a problematic child, and a problematic teenager, and an even more problematic young adult. So when his father died, he wasn't ready to take over the company, so someone else filled that role until he was. That man was Obadiah Stane, and for the first time in ten minutes, his story starts to form solid structure. Stane worked closely with Howard, so in his death, Stane filled the role of CEO. But when Obadiah also passed, it was his son Zeke who took on a role as a board member for Stark Industries. 

Zeke is someone you have never heard of, most of the public was unaware that there even was a board making decisions for the company. Tony Stark is the public face, his last name on the building for crying out loud, so he takes most of the heat and popularity points. 

Tony tells you that Zeke has been trying to buy him out of the company for years, and that recently he discovered encrypted files hidden in the company's software, incriminating proof of falsifying charges against workers in order to make up for unpaid taxes. 

It all makes sense, workers being slammed with lawsuits after trying to go after the company for not paying compensation. It was simply taking advantage of an opportunity, the missing tax money being blamed on a worker to get the IRS off of their asses. But a good story is only that, a good story. You need to see those files.

"I truly do hope, Mr. Stark, that you didn't bring me out here just to tell me that story." You toy with your tea cup. "Because it is a great story, my deepest sympathies for the loss of your parents, but as a lawyer I can't believe it without seeing any proof." 

He taps the tablet in front of you. "I have proof, everything I found has been uploaded to this tablet, that's the only reason I have the ancient thing." He says. "But I can't give it to you." 

Natasha shifts, crossing one leg over the other, and you can tell she's loosing her patience, as are you. "Oh?" 

"I need you to keep me out of it." He says. "In exchange for these files I need you to tell me something that you don't want to get out into the media. Don't say my name, I won't say yours." 

The grin on Natasha's face is scandalous, lips barely touching her tea cup when she says, "She's screwing her business partner." 

Your eyes go wide, heartbeat in your ears as Tony smiles. "Cute. Kinky." He has the nerve to wink at you, and you swear you feel a heat flash coming on. Steve is going to kill you. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Pepper was my assistant once." 

If only to ease your mind, you try to picture her behind a desk typing away on a keyboard, and while a business suit seems to suit her, you much rather prefer her cute mom jeans and t-shirt. 

As promised, he slides the tablet over to you. "There is no password, but it is connected to my VPN for protection." He says, eyes on yours. "I promise I won't tell your secret, just as long as you keep me out of this. Your battle is with the board, with Zeke Stane. I have nothing to do with this." 

You're almost thankful for his cooperation, he made it simple, said what he needed to say and turned over what you need to help your case. You can imagine that Tony wants what you do, to get justice for those who need it. You just never expected that he needed justice too. 

"Thank you for this." You say, tucking the tablet into your bag. 

"Sure, just don't tell anyone you have it. Especially not your little spy." 

Pepper walks you out, throwing in a dinner invite for some date in the future. You doubt she'll make good on it, but you can't deny that she is thoroughly hospitable. You get into your car quickly, pulling out of the driveway and leaving the neighborhood. The farther you get, the lighter you feel about the situation. Things were starting to look up, and while this may not be what you expected, you now have a solid case. The files on the tablet will no doubt seal the case in your favor, and everyone will get what they want. Bucky, Brock, Tony, they can all walk away getting the justice they deserve, and you feel proud to have a part in it. 

Natasha invites you to join her for a glass of wine when you drop her off, and after careful consideration, you decide that it couldn't hurt. 

Natasha is exactly the woman she perceives herself to be, sophisticated, preferring luxury as compensation for the hard work she's done in her life. Her home is something out of a vogue fantasy, vintage decor, gold and white details screaming expensive as you walk inside. She throws her bag on the couch as if it didn't cost her a full stack, heels clicking against polished floors as she makes her way into the kitchen. 

She doesn't ask you for a preference, she simply grabs a bottle and two glasses, gesturing for you to sit. She twists the bottle open, filling each glass before handing one to you. She watches as you take a sip, pleased with herself when you nod in approval. 

"I figured you liked sweeter wines." She says, "I like to guess." 

There's a power to her that you wish you could manifest for yourself, and you decide to at least try as you sit in her presence. You cross your legs, sitting back against the couch cushions. 

"Natasha, why did you give up being a lawyer?" 

The sigh that comes form her is heavy, she goes in for a long sip of wine before rolling her eyes. "Because it's exhausting work, and there's little reward." You're ready to argue, remind her of the justice you help serve, but she stops you with a raised finger. "I'm a woman who has built a career, and significant wealth. Yet I am surrounded by nothing. I have no family, no one to share my success with. I have given so much to others, freedom, settlements, but I have nothing to show for myself." 

You imagine her to have much experience, traveling, studying abroad, you wish you had the time to find out all of her secrets. But as you both continue to drink, you become a bit looser with your tongue, laughing with each other as if you've known each other your whole lives. 

Until finally, a question you've been dreading slips from her mouth, "So, Steve Rogers?" 

You feel like a school girl, gossiping at recess on the playground, a blush coats your cheeks that you can't hide from her, making her laugh. "Don't be shy, it's already out there at this point. I knew the moment I saw you. Even Tony knows." 

"Because you told him." You counter, "Besides, there's nothing there. We aren't official, we've never even-"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Never?" You shake your head. "Is he pulling the sacrifice card?" she asks. "You know, I want you but I won't have you because I have to fulfill my destiny and you're a distraction?" 

He's never said it that way before, it's never come off as him wanting to pursue his career and you being something that could hold him back, but in the context of him considering you a risk, it sounds a lot like what she's saying. 

"Yeah." You're a bit embarrassed that you didn't realize it sooner. 

Steve Rogers is stringing you along like you're a love sick puppy. 

"What you need to do is grab him by his balls." She says. "Literally. Corner him, grab him, and demand him to make a choice, you, or his career. And no matter what he chooses, don't beg, and don't ever look twice at him. If he doesn't chose you, you can't show him a single sign of interest from that moment forward, otherwise it won't work." 

You're clueless, the guide she has to men flying right over your head. "What won't work?" 

"You want him to realize what he's missing, you want him to understand that all of your benefits come with commitment, and if you make him miss you he might reconsider." She says. 

She's obviously been around the park, and you envy her wisdom. "We need to do this more often." You say, glancing at your wine. 

She smiles at you, warm and genuine, a smile you've never seen come from her before, "That can be arranged." 

After another glass of wine, she kicks you out with words of encouragement to go grab Steve Rogers by the balls, and a kiss on the cheek, "If you ever need me, have no doubt that I'm more than willing. Take care of yourself, I'll be rooting for you." 

You're a bit tipsy, but you manage to get to your office in one piece, ignoring the curious stares you get from the other lawyers that work at the firm. 

You've made multiple allies in this, and you have a good feeling as you head back to your office. You're bursting with excitement, quick to step out of your heels and toss your purse down. You make sure the door to your office is closed behind you, rushing off in search of Steve, but he isn't in his office when you look. He isn't on the balcony either, and the proud feeling you felt for yourself quickly vanishes. 

He's pissed, your small victory doesn't even feel worth it knowing you've upset him in the process. Your mind clouded, your emotions swimming, tears slip from your eyes as everything sets in on you. The consequences of your career choice catching up with you. In doing the right thing for one person, you've done wrong by someone else. Too much sacrifice and far too little reward. 

With no one here to tell, nothing left to do until you can both sync your thoughts, you decide to head home.

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

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[yogaadvise]

Here`s What Happens To Your Brain When You Do Yoga

Have you ever questioned why precisely you really feel so excellent after doing yoga exercise? The impacts of yoga exercise on your mind are really pretty complex. There have been hundreds of research studies done revealing what takes place to your mind chemistry when you're under stress and anxiety as well as what takes place when you minimize that anxiety with yoga exercise. As a matter of fact, Yogis have actually been proclaiming these benefits for centuries, yet Western medication is now stepping up to the plate and providing real clinical proof to back up the claims.

And while everyone knows yoga is relaxing, the benefits really go means past stress alleviation - people that practice yoga are able to turn on various parts of their nerves, create different sorts of cells in their mind, and established off a chain reaction of chemicals that uplift your mood.

This Is Your Brain On Stress

The term 'stress' is used quite casually in modern-day society. No person blinks an eye if you talk regarding being stressed by your commute or the needs of work and also domesticity. The influence of anxiety on your body is a severe concern. Luckily, yoga exercise, breathwork, and reflection are scientifically proven to resolve chronic stress.

Believe it or not, the stress hormonal agent cortisol can really kill your mind cells! According to an article by Be Brain Fit, cortisol triggers an excess of the neurotransmitter glutamate. Glutamate, which is an unattached oxygen particle, develops cost-free radicals which can punch holes in mind cells triggering them to pass away. Also, many individuals have heard that totally free radicals are what is accountable for causing as well as spreading out cancer cells in your body. Furthermore, when you're stressed out you damage the electric signals in your mind that assistance you process emotions and also bear in mind points (like where you parked and when that due date is!)

Practicing Yoga Exercise Reduces Cortisol

One enormous advantage to practicing yoga exercise is that it significantly lowers the hormonal agent cortisol in your mind. Cortisol just appears in the body when you're stressed out, and also it lights up the component of the brain called the amygdala. This is the part of your brain that controls are afraid. It additionally diminishes the pre-frontal cortex, which manages self-discipline as well as technique. When you're worried out, you're extra most likely to make bad decisions that are rooted in fear.

But, when you practice yoga, cortisol degrees promptly drop and your tension levels will certainly lower in turn. Stress and anxiety as well as mental disorder frequently work together, and in 2005 German researchers carried out a research where they found participants with diagnosed psychological illnesses 'really felt much less stress and less exhaustion after three months of routine yoga classes.' Don't believe you have to commit to doing a complete three months prior to you see any distinctions. In that very same research study, the scientists tested the individuals saliva after simply one yoga course as well as found they already had decreased degrees of the anxiety hormonal agent in their system.

Feel-Good Chemicals Increase

The excellent information is that in enhancement to decreasing cortisol, yoga exercise additionally offers every one of those tasty feel-good chemicals in your brain a substantial boost. Yoga exercise is actually considered an efficient all-natural treatment for anxiety due to the fact that of just how much it increases your brain's GABA levels. GABA is brief for a natural chemical called gamma-aminobutryic acid, or else referred to as you're mind's preferred means of activating relaxation. Anxiousness transpires when the neurons in your mind are swiftly firing yet GABA can aid you calm down naturally.

And while it's real that any type of kind of exercise can aid you de-stress and launch anxiety, a 2010 research by the Journal of Option and Complementary Medication found that doing yoga in fact launches even more GABA than strolling. In the same research study, they additionally located that yoga is medically extra calming than reading or other settings of relaxation. The secret might be the different components that are typically incorporated into a yoga exercise session - consisting of breathwork, reflection, and also mindful movement.

Doing Yoga Exercise Makes Your Mind Grow

One of one of the most interesting research studies that's been done on a yogi's brain was conducted by the National Facility for Corresponding and also Natural medicine by scientists Chantal Villemure and also Catherine Bushnell. The scientists utilized MRI scans to map individual's brains before and after they did yoga. The regular done by the individuals was what's common in a Western yoga class. They did 70% of the class focused on physical asana, 20% in meditation, and also 10% in breathwork.

They uncovered that the individuals' brains really grew in dimension with more hrs of method weekly. The development happened in areas like the hippocampus as well as somatosensory cortex. The hippocampus is the component of your mind in charge of regulating tension and anxiousness and also the somatosensory cortex is accountable for a mental map of your body.

Other components of your brain that develop more from practicing yoga are the superior parietal cortex, aesthetic cortex, precuneus cortex, as well as posterior cingulate cortex. These parts of the brain manage your focus, emphasis, and sense of self. That indicates it's a terrific task to do if you're uneasy regarding your body or have a whole lot of brain fog. As well as it may be a good reality to bring up if you're trying to convince your manager to fund your yoga classes!

Gray Matter Density Changes

Most individuals go their whole lives without thinking of the different components of their mind's makeup. Recent researches regarding the impacts of yoga on your mind have actually shed a load of light on means you can improve your brain feature. One really fascinating truth was brought up at Massachusetts General Hospital when Harvard scientists observed the effects of conscious meditation.

If you have actually ever before practiced mindful meditation, you're most likely not stunned that the method in fact altered the density of participants minds. The cells development was concentrated in a component of the central anxious system referred to as grey matter. This component of the brain controls every one of your understandings, such as sight, hearing, as well as memory. The research study carried out verified that you can really feel the effects of those modifications within eight weeks of conscious reflection method. Extremely, lots of conscious reflection programs can be discovered online for free! It's believed that those that participate in the reflection practice are measurable much more self-aware and also compassionate.

More Cortical Foldable In Your Brain

In this post for Bustle, author Gina M. Florio describes cortisol folding as a phenomenon that takes place in the analytical cortex area of your mind when you do yoga. The process, otherwise called gyrification, raises your capacity to process info. Simply put, cortical folding helps you remain alert and make much better decisions. It may also balance out age-related thinning of your brain cells, as well as help you create your desires into substantial mental revelations.

You Obtain Smarter As Memory Improves

It might sounds a little rude, but individuals that do yoga exercise are in fact smarter! Doing yoga is proven to increase your brain feature - according to this short article by Actual Simple, 'a brief, 20-minute Hatha yoga exercise session might boost focus and information retention.' Researchers at the College of Illinois showed this after comparing 2 emphasis teams - one that did yoga exercise and another that did aerobic workout. Those that did yoga had the ability to focus their mental sources much better as well as refine the information they were finding out at a faster price. Yet once more, it's presumed that this results from the activity of syncing your body's breath and also movement and also following the workout with a bout of meditation.

Your Parasympathetic Nerve System Is Activated

If all of this study isn't outstanding enough, consider the relatively fundamental fact that doing yoga exercise really changes your brain from being in fight-or-flight mode to a genuine loosened up state. This counter state is often described as the 'rest-and-digest' mode. Anxiety, injury, panic, anxiety, stress and anxiety, as well as any other sensation that makes you feel like you remain in threat turn on the fight-or-flight state (or else understood as the considerate worried system). When you exercise yoga, the body launches it's hold on that way of being as well as switches right into an extra kicked back state (the parasympathetic nerve system). When you remain in the rest-and-digest state, your brain is the initial component of your body to relax.

Then, a whole chain of events removes in your body. According to this write-up, yoga exercise flushes blood to your endocrine glands, digestion system, lymphatic system, and on top of all that your heart rate reduces and also your high blood pressure decreases. Furthermore, those that practice yoga exercise consistently have the ability to manage this procedure on as well as off the mat with more simplicity. According to this research stated by NBC Information and also Elite Daily, the results of practicing yoga add to a feeling of being tranquil yet sharp, which means your everyday technique can aid you unwind yet remain awake! So whether you're dealing with a genuine mental disorder that influences the chemical structure of your brain, or wish to launch from the anxieties of daily life, yoga exercise has been scientifically shown to help change your brain.

[katharkness]

Vacillate Chapter 1

This is written for the 00Q Reverse Big Bang @00qreversebang​ , inspired by a work of art by 10ki Aoi @10kiaoi​. Thanks to 10ki Aoi for the art, Chestnut NOLA for adminstering the RBB, and KtwoNtwo for beta-ing.

When Q is called to join the assault on a mastermind's base, he makes a discovery that will change MI6 - for better, or worse?

Artwork: https://10kiaoi.tumblr.com/post/190349039422/hello-folks-00qreversebang-has-been-in-the

Vacillate Chapter 1

008 was the best. He knew his limits, he always exercised good judgement, and even when his more violent tendencies came out, he was appropriately discreet. He never took unnecessary risks. So when he called to say he was over his head, needed a full assault team, and the Quartermaster to deal with what he'd found, there was no doubt he'd get it.

Q would rather not be bundled into body armour and a riot policeman's helmet, but 008 had requested extraordinary support, thus, support 008 would get.

"R, how long since 008 went silent?" he asked.

"Five hours, nineteen minutes," R answered over the comms. "He wasn't very lucid."

"Acknowledged," Q grunted.

008 had been injured and holed up in a store room while the assault team and Q scrambled. Even with top-of-the-range military aircraft (thanks to the doctors who'd finally found the right anti-anxiety medicine), it took hours to get from London to the Black Sea.

"M? Recommend proceeding ASAP."

"Recommendation taken under advisement, Quartermaster," M answered. "I want more intel on what you're heading into."

"Sir, we can't get into their CCTV," R reported.

Q thought. "Is there a camera close enough for me to get to?" he asked.

"Let me check. Ah…yes. By team Gamma."

"Acknowledged," Q said.

He slipped away from team Alpha, his assigned bodyguard shadowing, and made his way around the side of the compound. Gamma Leader stepped aside to make room for him.

"Okay, R, I see the camera. I'm going to splice a control node into the wiring, and if you still can't get access, I'll try a short-range hack for you."

"Yes, sir. Standing by."

Q unslung his laptop bag and passed it to Gamma Leader, swinging his tool bag around for easier and quicker access. He locked eyes with his bodyguard and held up three fingers. Two. One. He scurried out, keeping firmly on the camera's blind side. He pressed against the wall, his bodyguard next to him.

He looked directly up at the camera, and rooted through his tool bag. Control node, wire strippers, extra wire, insulation tape…and he couldn't actually reach the camera. He gestured to the bodyguard, who saw the problem, knelt and offered a boost up.

Q could feel the eyes of team Gamma on him, and through their bodycams M, R and all the others running the mission back in London. Field work always felt so terribly exposed. A splice he could perform with his eyes closed at his desk became a lot more nerve-wracking when performed balanced on the back of your erstwhile bodyguard.

And then it was done. Q stepped down, repacked his tools, and darted back to safety. Gamma Leader clasped his shoulder, acknowledging the risk Q took for the sake of the teams. Q nodded back, before going for his comm.

"R, progress?"

"Signal's a little faint, and I'm having trouble clearing it up," she reported. "Can you boost it?"

"Standby." Q reclaimed his laptop, booted it up, and started work. He quickly tapped into his spliced node's signal, and bounced it through a number of TV satellites before routing it to MI6. "Is that better?"

"Much," R reported. "M?"

"Good work, Q," the head of MI6 replied. "Go back to team Alpha so we can proceed."

"Yes, sir," Q acknowledged, before peeling off and returning to his previous position. He slipped into position as the Chief of Staff started ordering teams to reposition.

"…and Delta go five hundred metres west-south-west," Tanner finished. "Sir? On your mark."

There were a few tense moments of shuffling as everyone finished positioning themselves.

"Mark."

Alpha Leader, 2, 3 and 4 rushed straight for their entry point, a garage door. Alpha2 tried the shutter, found it locked, and beckoned Alpha 5 over. Alpha 5 quickly and expertly laid a line of plastic explosive, connected the detonator, and waited.

Right on cue, there was a large explosion as team Beta blew the main entrance. The chatter of gunfire filled the air. Q knew teams Gamma and Delta were starting through their own breach point, Gamma through a side door and Delta up, over and down through a skylight. Taking advantage of the distraction, Alpha Leader nodded to Alpha 5, who detonated his explosives.

There was a nasty crunch of metal, followed by the door falling off. Alpha Leader waited for it to settle before signalling and leading the advance.

The interior of the building was starkly lit, clinical in the way only hospitals and illegal testing laboratories can manage. Team Beta's frontal assault meant they were unopposed as they headed first to 008's last reported location.

The store room the agent had sought refuge in was on the first of five sub-levels. They encountered two guards on the stairs. The guards only managed to squeeze off one shot between them before Alphas 2 and 3 dropped them.

"Alpha, take the next right, then second door on the left," R instructed, before returning to directing team Gamma to the compound's armoury.

Q kept pace, nested in the middle of the pack as his bodyguard protected his back. They stopped at the indicated door, and Alpha Leader rapped on it.

"008, your backup. Zulu, zulu, hotel, quebec."

When there was no response to the code phrase, Alpha Leader looked at Q, who nodded. Alpha Leader tried the door. He found it locked, so Alpha 3 passed him some lock picks. A bit of jiggling later, it opened smoothly, and Alpha Leader stepped out of view in case the potentially twitchy agent started firing.

There was nothing.

After a moment, Alpha Leader looked inside, and cursed, "Q? You better see…"

Q darted over, a sinking feeling in his stomach. His fears were confirmed. 008 was pressed into a corner, blood pooling at his feet, but limp, eyes open and unseeing, gun fallen from nerveless fingers. Q reached forward and felt for a pulse. None. The body was already cool.

"M, this is Q," he reported. "We've found 008. Agent down."

There was a deep sigh from multiple voices, "Acknowledged, Quartermaster," M replied for all. "Any idea how long…?"

"I'd say a few hours," Q replied.

It was almost a relief; if the body had been warm, they would have only just been too late. But a few hours was too long ago. They couldn't have been faster. Not that the loss wasn't still bitter.

Q bit back his grief. They still had a mission to complete. 008 had found something, and been shot for it. Now they had to work out what secrets had cost the agent his life.

"He said he made a map when exploring," Q said. "Is it…can anyone…?"

Q started methodically going through 008's pockets in a vain hope of finding something, anything.

"Sir." Alpha 2 passed him a page he'd found lying on a shelf.

Q took it. "That looks right, yes," he said. "R, are you seeing this?"

"Alpha Leader, could you angle your bodycam a little more left? Got it now. We'll match that up to the cameras," R reported.

"There's a large areas marked ʻLabʼ with three question marks," Q said. "Who's closest to that?"

"Alpha," R told him. "Beta is occupied and Gamma and Delta are in the wrong areas."

"Well, there's nothing we can do for 008, so request permission to investigate the lab?" Q asked.

"Granted, Quartermaster," M answered.

Alpha Leader leaned over the map, and Q stepped back to let the team pick out their route. His bodyguard shuffle him back into the centre of the pack as they moved off.

Beta's attack on the front gate seemed to have drawn out all the remaining guards, so they encountered no opposition as they headed deeper into the compound. The team reached ʻLab?ʼ with ease.

Q waited while the team secured the room, which was unusually quick, and without a shot being fired. Alpha Leader called Q in.

The room was large, twice the height of a normal room and filled with benches and cabinets. Every available open space was clustered with glassware, instruments and computers. One wall appeared to be a window onto an underground lake, while another had nearly a dozen man-sized giant tubes, one bubbling with something cloudy. There were two men and three women in lab coats with their hands in the air being covered by Alpha 3.

Q pulled off his riot helmet. "Is this everyone here?" he asked. "Five scientists and a double-handful of guards aren't enough for a facility this size."

"We haven't found anyone else," Alpha Leader reported.

"Um?" one of the women waved her hand. "Everyone else left a few weeks ago. We stayed to finish creating Subject 7. And he's a bit delicate at this stage, so…can we get back to that?"

Q blinked. "What's Subject 7?"

She pointed to the clouded tube. Q turned to it.

The clouds of bubbles shifted through the medium, and Q could barely make out a figure floating in it. He approached, getting a better look. It was a man, very muscular and very naked, with the face of James Bond.

Q stared up, laying a hand on the tube.

"Shit," he breathed. "Just what were they trying to accomplish here?"