Summary: The BAU and The Avengers are newly found teammates, when they meet for the first time things don’t go so well.
(Alternatively read on AO3) - (See series masterlist for summary)
Muted blue walls decorated with FBI Seals wrap around the BAU team. The soft buzz of conversation and movement fills the small bullpen. Derek Morgan sits at his desk, a pen balanced between his fingers as he stares intently at an after-action report. “It won’t write itself you know.” Emily Prentiss teases as she places her bag at her desk.
“Yeah, I know, thanks Prentiss.” His unamused voice causes a frown to tug at her face.
“What’s your problem this morning?”
“Hotch got a call 20 minutes ago and we haven’t been called in for a case. Either Strauss is busting his ass again, or something’s wrong.” Both sets of eyes linger on the closed office door, the drawn blinds obstructing their view of their Unit Chief.
“Yeah, well, get it out of your head for now, he’ll tell us soon enough. He’s probably going to be more annoyed you haven’t finished your report though, Morgan.” He rolls his eyes as Emily sits at her desk.
The rest of the team slowly filters in throughout the next few minutes, words of welcome float quietly between each person. The well-oiled machine of which is the BAU comes to life. Files are exchanged, preliminary profiles faxed to Police Departments across the country and new cases are evaluated. The minute Aaron Hotchner steps out of his office however, an eerie silence descends upon the office. Pens halt scratching on paper, conversations slowly fade out. “Round table room, please” A file in hand, he strides into the meeting room, expecting the team to follow suit. They collectively scramble together and soft murmurs of wonder cross between them.
“Do you think it’s the brass again?” Spencer Reid questions quietly to JJ, who walks beside him.
“I don’t know, honestly. There’s been no urgent cases come through me, so if it is a case they went straight to Hotch.”
“Must be bad then.”
Hotch stood before the TV screen mounted in the round table room as they all settled in. A blanket of nerves settled over them all, the air is thick and charged with anticipation.
“It’s not Strauss or other members of the brass, before you jump to conclusions,” The whole room relaxes, the building around them seems to sag too, relieved at the release in tension which had built up over the morning. “However, we are all being indefinitely reassigned - as a team - to go work for SHIELD. We will be working alongside a team, you may have heard of, called The Avengers. Now, I understand no one was briefed about this but, it is a case of national and global security, and our new role is not to be argued about or contested. I’ve been in contact with the Avengers’ liaison, Maria Hill, and she’s informed me we’re expected at the Avengers Tower by noon. I apologise for jumping this on all of you, but it really is out of my hands. Any questions?”
The entire team was stifled by shock. Not a single breath was taken until Penelope Garcia spoke up. “With all due respect to us as a team, Sir, why would literal superheroes need our help?” Waves of agreement rippled around the table.
“Because apparently, although SHIELD are experts in espionage, they have used all their resources to apprehend UnSubs rather than figure out how to understand and get ahead of them.” Hums of acknowledgement bounce off the walls.
“So, we’re helping a team who will probably reject our help because - gosh, who needs the BAU and our profiles? They already saved the world, what can’t they do?” Hands raised in exasperation, David Rossi expressed his preconceived opinion to the rest of the team. Hotch’s head slowly nods up and down.
“Most likely, yes. That being said, I want you all on your best behaviour, Morgan, and I do not want assumptions getting in the way of formulating opinions and hopefully a stable professional relationship with these people. Okay?”
“Hey, man, what did I do?” Derek raises his hands in defence.
“Chocolate thunder, what haven’t you done?” Penelope smiles sweetly at him as the others begin raising from their seats.
“Wheels up in 20.” Aaron’s authorities tone drives home that there is no room for discussion here.
JJ and Emily walk slower, keeping to themselves behind the group. “What do you think of this?” JJ’s gentle tone makes Emily’s shoulders drop almost imperceptibly.
“I’m not sure. Depends on their attitude towards us I suppose. If they’re open minded and don’t see our arrival as a threat, then this could be a pretty sweet pay rise.” Emily smiles at the blonde woman, their finger brush together as they walk, a dusting of pink rises to JJ’s cheeks.
“Yeah, well let’s hope they not too egotistical and let us help.”
“I’m not so certain they will.”
-
The jet ride is usually quiet. Everyone finds their own peace before going on a gruelling case, today however is blindingly different. Penelope, Derek and Rossi are sitting together, a tense game of poker ensuing. Spencer and Hotch sit opposite one another, talking in low voices about a niche psychology paper they must be the two sole readers of, and JJ and Emily sit together. Emily’s knee is pulled to her chest, head tilted as she listens intently to JJ’s ramble about online scrabble, an odd topic, not that she cared. Turbulence rocks them from side to side occasionally, yet it seems more soothing than distracting to the team of profilers. A routine of the clouds they’ve become most accustomed to.
As the New York skyline begins to materialise, eyes are drawn from their previous entertainers to the city below. Pillars of marble and brick columns pierce the clouds, buildings forged of glass reflect the midday sun into marvelling eyes.
“Alicia got it right” Penelope mutters quietly, her attention fixed on the skyscrapers clustered below the jet.
“Who’s Alicia?” Dark brows furrow as Spencer questions Penelope’s statement.
“C’mon, Spence, Alicia Keys? Empire State of Mind?” JJ chuckles at the young genius’ cluelessness.
“I don’t know what that is.” Rossi pats Spencer’s shoulder as he passes by, heading towards the coffee machine, his voice full of amusement as he reassures Spencer.
“I don’t either kid.”
A flashing light pulls their attention away from the buildings below, the seatbelt signal blinking rapidly, signalling it was time for descent. The plane becomes almost silent, a stark contrast to their previous enthusiasm. As they all take their seats, the reality of their new assignment sinks in as the minutes tick by and the altitude decreases. The landing gear is deployed, the team is bumped gently as the plane comes to a stop on the helipad of the Avengers Tower. For a minute, no one moves. Then, a collective inhale is taken and nerves are pushed aside. “Okay, let’s go.” Hotchner effortlessly commands the team into action, collecting their belongings and heading out the plane in record time.
Awaiting their arrival is Agent Maria Hill, she has worked for SHIELD for years and is the Director, Nick Fury’s, second in command. “How was the flight?” She questions with a polite smile as they reach earshot.
“Shorter than expected.” Rossi answers.
“I suppose that’s not always a bad thing. Right, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you through to the others. They’re already in the meeting room.”
Hill takes them through an imposing glass door and immediately they were transported into the world of SHIELD. Agents rush past them, not even sparing a second glance as they go. To their left, an entire room is dedicated to computers and each has an Agent assigned to it, every pair of eyes are intently fixed upon their screen. The dull murmur of conversations fills every corner of the building. The winding corridors eventually guide them to a large door, Maria Hill turns the handle and pushes it open, stepping aside to allow the BAU entry.
In the centre of the room lay a great wooden table, fit to sit 14. Along one length of the table sat The Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Upon the BAU’s arrival, Steve Rogers rises from his seat and extends a hand to Hotch. “I’m Steve Rogers, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Aaron Hotchner, good to meet you too.” Hotch takes his hand and shakes it firmly, the two men stand beside each other as everyone is introduced. “These are SSAs Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss and Dr Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst and Jennifer Jareau, our media liaison. As mentioned previously, I am Aaron Hotchner and I am the Unit Chief of the BAU.” Each person raises a hand or offers a tentative smile as their name is called.
“It’s lovely to meet you all. As for us, this is Tony Stark - Iron Man, Natasha Romanoff - Black Widow, Bruce Banner - Hulk, Clint Barton - Hawkeye and Thor Odinson - God of Thunder. I am Steve Rogers, as I said, and I’m Captain America.” After a mildly awkward introduction, Hotch and Steve take their seats.
A man in a long black leather coat and an eye patch strides into the room, his presence commanding and without speaking he effortlessly quells any quiet conversations that were taking place. “I am Nick Fury, call me Fury only, and I am the Director of SHIELD. Now, I understand we didn’t give you folk a whole lot of choice in the matter of helping out with the Avengers Initiative, but we do really appreciate your willingness thus far.” He takes a sweeping glance over everyone in the room, his eyes feel like judgment, no matter what team you’re a part of. “Now, I’m not going to be overseeing you, that’s Agent Hill’s job. However, since I run things round here, I thought it would be better to have a formal introduction from me. At the moment, you are all clearance level one. What that means is, until we have full confirmation that we can trust you, you will not be allowed to view sensitive information stored and collected by SHIELD or any of its counterparts. This is non-negotiable.” A raised hands stops him short, a short nod is all the permission he gives for Rossi to speak.
“I’m not trying to speak out of turn here, however I do need to ask how are we supposed to help if we’re working with half-truths? To build a full cohesive and workable profile we need all the information we can gather. Without it, we could miss a vital detail which leads us astray from the true mindset of the UnSub which in turn means we cannot predict their next move and, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s quite literally what we’re here for.” Panicked expressions are shared between the rest of the BAU. Rossi’s words weren’t gentle and he was speaking to the Director of SHIELD, a glance is also shared between Natasha and Clint, their eyes speaking their own language forged in years of friendship.
“I understand your concern Agent Rossi, but I can assure you the information on the people we are asking you to assist the Avengers with will be provided. However, what they’re planning, where they are, who they work for or anything involving much more than their personality and fucked up family life will not be shared with you. Now, in terms of work, Maria Hill will send cases over to you, you will build a profile in Quantico and deliver it to the Avengers in the Tower by word of mouth to prevent any leaks. If you are more inclined to move your operations into the tower to save the flights, we are more than happy to allocate you a space here, however I will give you time to discuss that as a team. Lastly, one golden rule of working with this jolly bunch is don’t ask questions. I don’t care if it’s about their personal life or work, they do what they do and they do it well, and what they do after that is none of your business. Am I clear?” As if they shared a mind, the entire BAU nods as Nick Fury finishes his introduction. He swiftly exits the room after he says his parting message, “Great. Welcome to SHIELD.”
Silence settled over them after the door shuts behind Fury. No one dares to move, unsure if it would be rude to leave, but having no more topics of conversation, the meeting was choked in discomfort.
Steve stands, readying himself to break the tension and give a less intimidating welcome speech. “Fury is a little much sometimes, I apologise for that. I promise we’re not that stern.” His attempt at humour does little to melt the ice that sits thick between the two teams. “Everything we find out, in terms of who we’re hunting, will be passed to you guys. We will tell you everything we can and everything we’ve gathered in terms of intel on our own missions, however if we uncover anything bigger than what would be considered acceptable to tell you, obviously we won’t be so open. I don’t want that to come in the way of a possibly positive professional relationship, though.
“I’m sorry but, how is it fair that we are putting our safety on the line by working with you and making ourselves known to the worst type of people, and maybe even aliens, yet we can’t know if they’re planning something? If we’re in danger I’d sure as hell like to know - I don’t give a damn about your clearance levels.” Derek’s voice spoke the words the rest of his colleagues were too afraid to mutter.
“Morgan” Hotch’s tone is full of warning.
“No, I’m with Derek on this one. I don’t like the idea of being kept in the dark.” Spencer chips in, his expression that is usually unfazed carries an edge of discomfort now.
“I know you’re all new here, but SHIELD ensures the safety of the entire country, and sometimes the world. We cannot hand out sensitive information just because you’re concerned for your personal well-being. Keeping you in the loop puts millions of others at risk.” Clint Barton’s sharp statement quells the infighting momentarily.
“Are you trying to imply you don’t trust us? We’re FBI we know how to keep government secrets, and most of all we understand the importance of not letting the information leak and become the knowledge of people it’s not intended for.” Emily’s hands gesture as she speaks, as if trying to force her opinion to the other side of the table, unfortunately it fell upon deaf ears - again.
“We cannot tell you everything. End of. We will go in, do our jobs, and you will do yours. Okay? God, the Feds never stop breathing down people’s necks, do they?” Tony’s sarcastic tone lands flat and faces that belong to the BAU sour. “I mean, what good is profiling going to do in the end anyway? We go in, we do what we need to with the people we’ve been tracking, then we leave and blow the place to shit. We don’t need their psyche to do that.” Making more enemies by the second, Tony concludes his passionate rant and decided enough is enough.
“Okay, now we’ve met, who wants a tour of the Tower? Might be useful to, I don’t know, acquaint yourself with your new work environment.” Tony stood as he spoke and perched a pair of blue tinted glasses on his nose.
“That would be nice, thank you.” Hotch responded, looking to the other members of his team for confirmation, unsure whether they would want to stick around. Everyone began to rise from their seats as Tony’s voice sounded again.
“So, I think the only important floors are the ones that I fund so, follow me to mine and Doctor Banner’s lab for the first stop on our riveting tour.” The gaggle of new colleagues wander out of the meeting room, Tony attempts small talk with Rossi as they walk ahead. Surprisingly, their shared love of cigars begins to bridge the chasm between them. Hotch creates a small gap between the BAU and the rest of the Avengers to speak lowly to them about manners and decorum, even though they may be offended by Stark’s words, a finger is pointed at Emily and Derek at some point during the talk.
Following closely behind the large group is Natasha and Maria. Their voices are low, Maria’s finger is curled into Natasha’s sleeve. “What do you make of this whole team up thing? I mean, are they good at what they do?” Natasha’s tone is uncharacteristically gentle as she glances at the brunette.
“They’re all vetted, so don’t go worrying about that, but when it comes down to their work, on paper? They’re phenomenal, really. They’re the FBI’s most efficient task force, their work is constantly doubted in its legitimacy, but they prove day after day that it’s a true science. So, given that everyone plays nice, I think it could be good for you guys.” Maria offers Nat a small smile which she immediately returns.
“Well alright then, I trust your judgement.” The red-haired woman squeezed Maria’s hand gently before letting go. Her rose painted face makes Natasha smile - a rare sight.
“I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go. Hope you enjoy Tony’s ego tour, I’m so sad to be missing it.” A gentle laugh leaves Natasha’s mouth.
“Sure, see you later.”
“See you” Maria walks away from the group, Clint falls back and comes into step with Natasha.
“You two look comfy”
“Shut up” An elbow to the ribs stops his teasing instantaneously.
They finally arrive at Tony and Bruce’s lab and to say it was impressive was an understatement. There are holographs projected from tables which are entirely touch screen, an artificial intelligence program whose name is J.A.R.V.I.S. along with monitor after monitor displaying calculations and data you could only wish to understand. The first to speak up is Penelope Garcia, “Oh my god. I couldn’t even imagine how easy my job would be if I had access to all this equipment. Plus, I would have an extra set of hands who can surf the web faster than me, I didn’t even think that was possible.” Tony’s smug grin widens at Garcia’s praise.
“Impressive stuff right. I built most of it myself, at home. Obviously not this exact model, but my blueprints are sent to Stark Industries factory who can then mass produce my own personal products for me.” Spencer has never been one for modern technology, but the research capabilities of the advanced laboratory interest him.
“So, what kind of research do you guys do?” Bruce’s head lifts, his eyes focus on Spencer instead of his hands for once.
“We do many things here. Not only do we partner with other people, like Dr Cho who operates a fascinating new piece of technology called the Regeneration Cradle, but we conduct our own research too, on objects we encounter through our missions, such as Hydra weapons and unidentified objects, which we then identify.” Reid had never been more enthused to be in a lab, to put it lightly.
Before Banner and Reid could get carried away, Steve interrupts. “Tony, why don’t we show them a place everyone can enjoy?”
“You’re right. My suit room!” A seemingly collective groan leaves the Avengers’ lips.
“No, let’s go to the bar.” Emily’s eyes widen in shock at the information given to them by Steve. She responds before she can think better of it.
“You have an in-house bar?!”
As the group of Agents and heroes meander down the hallways of the Avengers Tower, other amenities in the building are pointed out. A gym, complete with a shooting range and sparring mats, is seen in the higher levels and, a few doors that are usually kept closed that lead to the living quarters occupied by a few of the Avengers. Eventually, the slim corridors open up into a large room. They stand on a balcony above, overlooking the large space. Below, there is a bar that covers a half wall, directly opposite that is a large coffee table made of glass with two large grey sofas and two armchairs surrounding it.
“Wow. Do you have a budget? Or do taxpayers fund your scotch?” A soft chuckle rumbles from Tony’s chest as Derek questions the impressive collection of alcohol on display behind the bar.
“I pay for everything. I am a millionaire, you know? Stark Industries, ever heard of it? This used to be Stark Tower. I have enough money to fund the odd party, don’t worry.” Emily rolls her eyes, it goes unnoticed by most, except Natasha, who leans in to whisper to just her.
“He gets more bearable, I promise. Trust me, I hated him and his ego for the first few months of working with him.” A small huff of laughter leaves Emily, she turns to the widow.
“I sure hope so, this whole tour was just to flaunt his tower.” Natasha nods, a resigned sigh makes Emily chuckle again.
“He’s a bit on an ass, but unfortunately he is a genius.” Their conversation is cut short by a booming, jovial voice unintentionally commanding the room.
“You must all try Asgardian liquor! It’s far too strong for humans like you, but I enjoy seeing you people try anyway!” Thor’s smile and carefree attitude pull smiles onto a few people’s faces.
“He’s fun” Derek whispers to Penelope.
“Sure is, I think you should try his liquor.”
“No thank you, baby girl. Beers from Earth do me just fine.”
“Chicken.” His eyes narrow, playfully glaring at Penelope.
“Dollface, I ain’t doing that. Don’t let me stop you though.” Derek waves his hands in welcome towards Thor, Garcia shakes her head as she smiles brightly at Derek.
Tony peels away from the group, just a few steps, so he can address everyone. “I hold the odd party here-“
“Odd? You drag us here every week minimum.” Clint interrupts and raises an eyebrow at Tony’s evasive description of his party habits.
“Well- yeah, give or take. Whatever Legolas, point is: You’re all welcome. You will be added to my invite list.”
Before anyone can extend thanks to Tony, Steve steps in.
“Maybe we should keep the topic on work-“
“Capsicle, please, it’s not the 40s anymore, you’ve got to adapt to the modern man’s schedule. We will party when we want to.” Steve sighs and resigns himself to endure Tony’s less than professional approach to forming bonds with the BAU.
“Well, we all thank you for your hospitality. JJ will be in contact with Agent Hill on our decision to stay at Quantico or move to the Tower, but for now we should head back to the BAU.” Hotch shakes the hands of Tony and Steve.
“Thank you from us too, your help is really going to help us apprehend- well, I can’t exactly tell you who, but it’s a massive help. Thank you.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
The group of profilers are lead to the helipad of the Avengers Tower once more, their jet waiting for them. Small goodbyes are passed from each person, and Steve is the sole Avenger who stays on the helipad to wave them off. As the rumbling of the jet’s engine levels out and they get in the air, a silence stretches over the BAU. Unspoken words weighing on them heavily, each person afraid to say what the other is certainly thinking too.
“Okay, I’ll say it, they don’t trust us. How are we going to be any help if we cannot access the information we need.” Emily speaks up, her tone laced with frustration.
“I couldn’t agree more. Also, their ego may block us from working well together. I know they saved the world from an alien invasion, and yes, they’re extremely good at ensuring the safety of people through fighting and violence, however they also need to realise we don’t make profiles for fun. Their body count on missions would be much lower if they just took into consideration that person’s psyche. But, I have a feeling they think of themselves far too highly to stoop down to a measly FBI level of operation, so their body count will continue to rise.” Rossi’s passionate rant draws the attention of every team member.
“We have to give them a chance before we jump to conclusions.” Garcia says softly, ever the optimist of the team.
“Maybe, but I don’t have a good feeling.”
“Especially Stark, he’s much more interested in an ego trip rather than even attempting to work with us properly.” Derek chimes in. The rest of the team can’t disagree with his statement, it is true.
“No matter our opinions on them, we have to work with them. So, put your grievances aside, so we can be the bigger people and not allow their poor attitude to reflect badly on us. Okay? The last thing we need is the brass to have any fuel against us.” Hotch’s sensible approach seems to calm the team, silent agreement travels through the plane and the conversation dies. Everyone returns to their previous seating arrangement from flight in.
“How was your chat with Natasha?” JJ’s words aren’t malicious, but they carry an edge.
“It. was okay, just making fun of Tony, saying how he gets easier to deal with the longer you know him. Nothing too important.” Emily’s warm smile disarms JJ’s frosty mood, their knees bump together. “We still on for tonight, JJ?”
“Yeah, of course.”
-
In the Avengers’ Tower, a similar charged silence had captured them. No one had spoken since the jet left. “So, what do we think of our new FBI counterparts?” The silence is broken by Clint, sparking a conversation they all wanted to have.
“They think we’re clueless in our own field of expertise. We fight criminals and we win, we protect the US and the world from time to time, we don’t need to be told how to track down our targets. I don’t even understand why they were hired to help us.” Tony expresses his dislike towards the whole team up. “They think we’re incapable. We don’t need to be told how to take in a criminal. I don’t care what their ‘profile’ says, I don’t care if they’ll go down shooting or if their absent father made them despise males in leadership roles. We know the risks, it’s literally our job. Not theirs.”
“I hate to say it, but I’m with Tony on this one. It kind of feels like SHIELD is outsourcing because they don’t trust us, and these guys, although they’re nice enough, I think they might hinder us more than help us in a professional setting.”
“We just have to give them time, I’m sure we’ll come into some kind of routine and relationship with them” In an attempt to reason, Steve diffuses the conversation. “I know how it feels right now, but I’m sure everything will work itself out. Nat, you were talking to one of them, weren’t you?” At that moment, Maria rejoins them, her eyes landing on the other woman as soon as her name is mentioned.
“Yeah, Emily, I think. She was nice.” Natasha doesn’t meet Maria’s eyes as she speaks.
SUMMARY: The BAU has been tasked with helping the newly formed Avengers to track down criminals who threaten the safety of the US. The BAU, a seasoned team of professional profilers, is kept at arms length by the Avengers, a mildly dysfunctional newly formed group of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’. Tensions rise and clashes ensue, but will they let their personal differences keep them from saving the population from the rise of HYDRA?
Well aren’t you in luck!! Go look on my AO3 WLF_lookforthelight and find the first chapter of ‘Stay In Your Lane’ now!!
SUMMARY: The BAU has been tasked with helping the newly formed Avengers to track down criminals who threaten the safety of the US. The BAU, a seasoned team of professional profilers, is kept at arms length by the Avengers, a mildly dysfunctional newly formed group of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’. Tensions rise and clashes ensue, but will they let their personal differences keep them from saving the population from the rise of HYDRA?
Building on my previous fic BUT can be read on its own.
Masterlist Abby Masterlist
soldier!abby who.. isn’t massive on PDA but will hold your hand like it’s her lifeline. Nothing flashy, just enough for her.
soldier!abby who.. is not much of a talker in group settings but the minute your alone? She’s a massive chatterbox because she feels like she doesn’t have to upkeep her tough act around you.
soldier!abby who.. is cold to everyone but you (and her close friends) and makes you feel like the only girl in the world
soldier!abby who.. always makes a point of being close to you and shielding you when in crowded spaces or on patrols because why would she ever let anything happen to her pretty girl?
“You know you don’t always have to monitor me. I’m not a baby” I scrape dirt with my boot as Abby loops her arm around my waist for the 5th time this patrol.
“You’re my baby though, so of course I gotta protect you.”
soldier!abby who.. insists on checking your injuries, even if theyre minor. Bruise? She’s lifting your shirt tbe moment you mention it, whilst guiding you to grab a cold compress. Cut? Stitching you up whilst claiming the infirmary isn’t clean enough to treat your wounds.
soldier!abby who.. refuses to admit it, but she only acts stoic because she’s afraid of being left behind again. If she doesn’t have many people she’s close to, she suffers less loss. But, when you get close to her she loves with everything she has and is basically the embodiment of a golden retriever.
soldier!abby who.. thought after Owen she’d never love again, the breakup hurt too much to be worth another lover. Right?
soldier!abby who.. is possessive. She doesn’t like to admit it, and it’s sometimes a real inconvenience, but she just doesn’t want to lose you. It never comes from a place of malice, she’s just so afraid of you leaving one way or another that she keeps you close and makes sure other people know you’re taken.
soldier!abby who.. hates talking about her emotions. She’s extremely stubborn about opening up initially, she always wants to hear your problems but she would never tell you hers. Eventually, you break down her walls and she starts pouring her heart out to you.
To add to the previous, soldier!abby who.. loves being held and taken care of but will NEVER admit it out loud. Some nights she’ll just sink into your arms without saying anything and let herself relax fully, and on rare occasions she’ll shed a few tears.
Summary: Stoic soldier Abby Anderson becomes uncharacteristically soft around reader. The reason? Well, she’s pretty, of course.
Word count: 963
Content Warning: one kiss on the cheek and one use of y/n
DO YOU WANT A PART TWO?? Plus I have headcannons for this so.. do you want them too??
A/N: guys idk what this is i wrote it in a state of overwhelming boredom. NOT PROOFREAD!
Masterlist Abby Masterlist
The FOB was an empty place. Physically quite full, but empty at its core. Everyone has their groups and sticks to them and this hierarchy is built too, those who Issac loves, become untouchable. Abby Anderson is one of those people.
She only befriends people within her social ranking, only passing a quick ‘hello’ to anyone else. Small talk, mindless glances and tight lipped half grins. So, why is she stood opposite me, and more to the point, why is she smiling?
“I mean, sure if you like it..” Her teasing words make me smile.
“Hey, it’s just about the only good book left in the world.”
“You clearly haven’t read Percy Jackson”
“Abby, that’s a kids book” I chuckle at her words.
“Yes, it is, but don’t knock it till you try it. Seriously, it’s good!” A wider grin blossoms on her freckled face.
“Well unfortunately I don’t own a copy-“ I’m interrupted immediately by a very excited Abby.
“I do, you can borrow it- if you want to that is, I mean you don’t have to read it..”
“No, that would be great. I’m always looking for new books to read.” I can’t help the fluttering feeling in my stomach. She was never like this, ever. But she’s being soft and sweet and ugh, this is unfair. Why am I the exception?
“Come to my room at some point tonight? Manny’s out with.. one of his girls I don’t know which one.” Soft laughter bubbles from my chest at her exasperation over Manny’s sexcapades.
“Sure, I’ve got to help out with the big restock, but I’ll come after that?”
“See you then”
<<>>
By the time we finish restocking the medical bay, ammo and just about every other damn room in the FOB, we’re finally released. My hands are sore and my legs ache from all the walking, but I told Abby I’d be there, so I’m going.
My boots thud heavy on the concrete, echoing down the hallways. I only vaguely remember which room is hers, I pray it’s the correct number when my fist drums on the door.
“One second!” A voice inside yells. I wait patiently, my hands twisting with each other as I try to settle my nerves. I’m just getting a book. Nothing else.
The door swings open with a force that causes the air to sweep my fly away backwards. Shit, I should’ve fixed my hair. The thought doesn’t have a chance to linger though as Abby smiles brightly at me.
“Hey! You actually came, I thought I scared you away” She steps aside to let me in.
“You’re not that intimidating, Anderson.” I comment with a small smirk, testing the waters.
“Oh, really? So that isn’t why you always look away when I try to catch your eye in the corridor? Orrr when I tried to get you on my patrol and you backed out?” My face heats a little, she’s got me flustered.
“Nope, just didn’t want to talk to you.”
“You sure?” Her bright eyes and warm smile make my heart do a fucking flip. And, jesus, her arms. Folded across her chest, they caught the light perfectly. My breath hitched.
“Mhm” I give as a half response as I drag my eyes back to hers as I realise I’ve been staring.
“You sure are convincing.” The smug tone is enough to make me look away, trying to hide my smile.
“I know.. can I ask you something?” A quieter register takes over now, my bravado from earlier dissipated.
“For sure.” Abby perched on the corner of her desk, man spreading, hands on her knees.
“Why me? Like, I’m not trying to say you’re mean, because you’re not, but you’re reserved. You don’t really talk to people outside of your little circle, but you talk to me. Why?”
“Pretty girls are my kryptonite. Correction: you, pretty girl, are my kryptonite.”
“Huh..” Butterflies, my heart skips a beat - all the cliches? Happening.
“Don’t get shy on me now” Abby crosses the room, standing before me. Her hand is calloused but gentle, asking for permission as she hovers just above my skin. I look up at her, unable to keep eye contact in my flustered state. “Hey, look at me, pretty. I mean what I said.” Her warm laughter settles heavy, but welcome, in my chest. “You’re sweet, you know. Don’t go quiet on me.”
“You’re pretty too.” My voice is almost a whisper and my breath catches inaudibly in my throat as she finally makes contact and tilts my head to look her in the eye.
“Come back tomorrow, and I’ll take you out. Alright?” She doesn’t give me a choice in the matter - not that I’m complaining.
“Where? You are aware the world ended, right? There’s no restaurants or anything-“ I’m cut shorts by my own laughter as she pushes me gently.
“I know that. But, I also know a place. You’ll see. Oh- The book!” She turns to her bookshelf, which I have to say is a lot more full than I expected, and rummages until she finds what she’s hunting. She passes me a slightly worn copy of ‘Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief’. “That’s the first book. If you like it, theres 4 more.”
“Cool, I’ll get on it.” I begin walking to the door but Abby beats me to it and opens it for me.
“How chivalrous” I tease gently.
“I try.. y/n?” She calls my name softly as I take a few steps outside her door. I turn back and look at her. Before I have time to register her actions, she’s already put a hand around my waist and left a kiss on my cheek, and began retreating to her room.
A/N: I wanna write longer actual one shots but blurbs is all i’m churning out :( NOT PROOFREAD!!
“You make me forget that I really should know better” Her soft voice spilled into the small space between us, my lips landed on hers for another quick kiss.
“Keep forgetting, I want to love you for as long as you’ll let me.” Emily’s face softened at my words. I kiss her cheeks softly, “I don’t want us to end.”
Her hands find home at my waist and pull my body’s against hers. Her warmth washes over me and her soft eyes roam over my face.
“We won’t, I promise. Just, you know people will talk.” Brown eyes are full of concern as she caressed my cheek, her calloused hands are gentle against my skin, like I’m something precious.
“I don’t care. I want you.”
Something inside her seems to give in at my words, the hand that rested on my cheek travels to the back of my neck, pulling me into her orbit once more. Her lips pressed against mine like they have a thousand times before, I melt into her touch easily.
“You feel like home” I say to her, my voice hesitant but gentle. Her hand squeezes my waist and a sweet smiles adorns her face.
“You are my home, pretty.” Scarlet invades my face. How did I get so lucky?
Summary: A short blurb about touch starved Emily letting herself be loved again
Word count: 328
Content Warning: none, just fluff + kisses
A/N: Guys I actually want to upload more fics I’ve found my love for writing again :D (NOT PROOFREAD)
Soft intimacy was a foreign concept to Emily Prentiss. For years she’d sworn off relationships, claiming she didn’t have time, didn’t want anyone, was comfortable in isolation. The BAU was all she needed. But now? With a sweet girl gazing at her in the dark as her hand traces her features as if she’s a sculpture in a museum, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Her finger moved down the bridge of Emily’s nose, she’d always claimed it was her favourite feature of Emily’s. Then, soft languid strokes met her cheek. The invasion of pink on Emily’s face was masked by the sheet of darkness that covered them both - love had never felt like this before. Safety, mutual respect, being at home wherever she was. It was all new to her. Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but they were never forever, they never cared to know her truly, they only learnt just what was beneficial to them. But in her arm, Emily knew she was understood deeply, not just the surface level convenience information, like her favourite colour and film but her fear, her hopes and the things she had sworn to never let another soul hear. And never once did her eyes flicker in disgust, never once did she push Emily away for being too much.
“You’re staring” A soft voice floats through the room, laced with fatigue. Emily smiles at her words.
“I know” Softly, Emily removes her hands from her face and kisses them each softly. “You’re just too sweet to look away” Arms stretch out and wrap around her waist.
“Says you”
“Yeah, says me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love.” Emily’s leans down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then the top of her nose before finally landing on her lips. Then again. And again.
“Stop talking like that, going to make me fall in love”
Summary: Abby soft launches her feelings for reader over stitches.
Medic!reader, WLF Abby.
Word count: 985
Content Warning: Mentions of injury (stab wound, gun shot wound etc), mention of medical supplies and stitches. One kiss to the head. Flirting?
A/N: GUES WHO FINISHED FINALS??? ME ME ME!!! I’m back girls. NOT PROOFREAD!!!
Being a medic in the apocalypse sounds like a punchline to a really fucked up joke. Imagine trying to heal the terminal illness that swallowed Gaia and defeated humanity. Yet here I stand, gloves on and my nerves through the roof as I await the arrival of injured soldiers at the WLF infirmary. Loud yelling travels through the maze of buildings that surround the FOB, names are being called, orders being screamed over the chaos of the afternoon.
Then, it happens all at once. The gates open, the wounded come in first off the back of a Jeep. One with an arrow to the shoulder, fixable, another woth a gun shot wound to the abdomen, not so fixable. Lastly, A woman walks out, refusing help, stab wound to the stomach. Abby Anderson, my most frustrating patient.
The thing about Abby is, she’s too self righteous to admit she needs help, even when she’s bleeding out. The crimson drops down her fingers as she lifts her hand to assess the damage. Me and Abby have met before. Many times. She can’t seem to keep herself out of the firing line for too long and refuses care from anyone but me. I’d be flattered if she wasn’t risking her life by hunting me down in the infirmary when she’s bleeding out.
“Abby!” I call out to her. Her eyes lift from where they were transfixed on her injury. She offers me a weak smile before she walks over. “Are you going to let me patch you up this time?” I question as she comes under the gazebo.
“I don’t know, I think I got this one.” She says, pain coating her voice, giving it a grit I haven’t heard from her before.
“You’re wincing, Abby. And actively bleeding out on my equipment. Are you going to accept my help or not?” Trying to be stern with her is hard, shes highly trained at sneaking her way out of stitches.
“I think I can manage, if I get one of those med kits.” She weakly smiles, a poor attempt to assure me she’s ‘fine’.
“Abby.”
“Yes?”
“Sit down.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Her compliance shocks me initially, then the flush rises to my cheeks at the way she addressed me. Huh.
“So, how’d you do this one?” I question as I open a suture pack, placing the instruments on the sterile tray.
“Fuckin’ scars. They seem to have forgotten that certain areas are WLF territory. Safe to say they won’t be back anytime soon though.”
She grits her teeth as I dab rubbing alcohol on her wound.
“As long as we don’t lose anyone today. I don’t think the community can take another blow like that, not after last week.” Her head nods in grave agreement.
“Yeah. Definitely not.” A sharp inhale of breath leaves her lips as I place the first stitch.
“Sorry” I murmur as I concentrate. Although, it’s not easy with her abs staring me in the face.
“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad”
“Okay, now you’re just lying.” I chuckle at her tough guy act.
“Can’t look weak in front of a pretty girl.” The forwardness of her statement makes me pause for a second. Pretty girl? I mean, sure, we flirt when she comes in for treatment. But this? Actual compliments? We haven’t crossed that line. Well, I suppose we have now.
“Pretty, huh?”
“Well yeah. Have you seen yourself? You’re perfect. And you still manage to have hope and care for people when the world had literally ended. You’re amazing.”
Wow. Okay. What?
“Abby-“
“Don’t even start with your humble nonsense. I’m serious and truthful.”
“You hit your head while you were out too?”
“Just decided life’s too short to hide this shit.”
Trust Abby to have once close call and throw caution to the wind. Not even a close call really, she’s had worse. I know because I’ve treated her ‘worse’.
“I don’t know what to say” I stumble over my thoughts and words as I finish her stitches.
“Don’t say anything then, just think for a minute and don’t fuck up my new scar.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
I work silently, the air is charged with what ifs. I place a soft pad on her skin, securing it with medical tape, before wrapping a bandage around her waist for extra protection.
“Thank you” I say to her.
“You’re thanking me? For what? You just kinda saved my life if you think about it. So, thank you.” I chuckle. Her words aren’t false.
“Thank you for calling me pretty. And all the other stuff.”
“Perfect and amazing.”
“Right yeah, perfect and amazing. I just-“
“Come back to mine and Manny’s room. I need to be nursed back to health.”
“I’m a doctor, I don’t do bedside treatment I’m afraid.”
She pouts like a baby. My stomach flips.
“But I’m injured.” She states it like it would solve the issue that I’m still on the clock.
“I can’t, Abs. I’m sorry. Mel will kill me if I bail right now.”
“Fuck Mel.”
“And fuck my livelihood in the WLF too? No thanks. Look, I’ll come after we’ve cleaned up here - okay? I won’t be long. Get some shut eye and I’ll be there by the time you wake up.”
Her eyes seem to sparkle at the ultimatum. She’s like a golden retriever hearing their favourite words the way her head turns.
“Sounds good to me.” She stands and I immediately reach out and catch her bicep to steady her, not that she needs it. “I’m okay, doc. I’ve been stabbed before.”
“That’s not at all a comforting sentence.”
She grins, pleased with herself.
“Yeah I know.
Before I have time to even process what’s happening, a calloused hand finds my waist briefly and a kiss lands in my hair. Abby winks at me, smiling like she’s won the damn lottery.
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