#quantified187

[objctive]

   ❝i  can  feel  you  staring  and  i  already  know  what  you’re  going  to  say.  there’s  ONLY  a  few  more  files  to  go  through.❞   @quantified187​ |  ♥

[magicandmayhcm]

@quantified187 | derek morgan holiday starter

“do i strike you as the kind of person who puts the christmas tree up the day after halloween? cause i think we should at least wait until after thanksgiving to start celebrating the last holiday of the year.”

[cybervigilant]

6’1”

» send me ↕ + your muse’s height // accepting.      Elliot is 5′7″

Nerds come in Smol and Tol

[stlucy-a]

*    ⊰    @quantified187​    ⊱    𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔞  𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩  . ↳    the  wedding  list  /  kate  bush

❝    all  of  the  headlines  said  passion  crime  ,    ❞   lucy’s  cynicism  is  biting  ,   her  book  of  keepsakes  open  on  her  lap  .    near  the  start  is  the  newspaper  clipping  ,   september  20th  ,   1893  .   she  points  to  it  and  tilts  the  book  so  reid  can  see  .    ❝    some  things  never  change  ,   journalists  are  professional  liars  .   it  was  most  definitely  a  crime  ,   but  it  was  nevertheless  a  calculated  one  .   i  suppose  it  doesn’t  matter  now  .    ❞

[objctive]

           it took a certain DETERMINATION to keep his eyes closed when spencer slid into the seat next to him on the jet. he was speaking even before he’d bothered to sit and had launched into what, hotch believed, were probably excerpts from the essay he’d been reading earlier about child murders. a charming subject. the kid had ANXIOUS energy almost pouring out of him and aaron wants to do his best to be understanding, but he was also exhausted and they still had a long flight back to quantico.            ❝ reid,❞ the name leaves his mouth gently, eyes remaining mostly closed. he does crack one open for a peak at the 21 year-old doctor. he looked like he’d let himself get WORKED UP about something. ( gideon was catching a commercial flight back in the morning, and derek had passed out before the wheels left the tarmac ). hotch was probably the friendliest face on the plane for the freshman agent. the other old-timers weren’t always the most talkative bunch. gideon had worked hard and brought their unit a long way, using TEAM-THINK to solve cases that the old single-model just couldn’t. spencer was a huge asset in that regard, but the others couldn’t establish their respect on book-smarts alone.             everything hotch was going to say leaves in an instant as he watches spencer softens at the sound of his name. probably expecting a REPRIMAND or negative retort.  ❝that’s fascinating.❞ it’s delivered as DRY as DUST but that wasn’t so abnormal for him that reid would take it as a slight. ❝i was under the impression that those murders hadn’t all been attributed to the TEXAS TEEN BUTCHER.❞ now that he’s watching spencer, hotch gets a bit distracted. derek called him pretty boy and hotch couldn’t disagree with that assessment. - @quantified187​ 

[objctive]

            one empty bottle on the counter...make that two empty bottles. hotch is IMPRESSED and concerned as he makes his way from the bedroom into his living room. the couches have been pushed into an odd alignment and the collapsed FAILINGS of a blanket fort are covering the floor.  ❝rise and shine,❞ hotch intones with an uncharacteristic level of cheer.  ❝time for the morning run you both eagerly planned to join me for at 2 a.m.❞ by the time he’s done TEASING he’s standing over the couch, admiring the view of messy hair and drool puddles.                                 *throws confetti*  @mindlaw​ & @quantified187​

[objctive]

                  @quantified187​   | ⁂  (unit chief target practice) 

        ❝spencer,❞ hotch’s tone is quiet, but FIRM. there’s no room for misinterpretation as he gives a curt shake of his head. they’re flanking the front door, poised and waiting, each leaning against the frame opposite each other. it was too dangerous for the two of them to go in without back-up no matter how much they both wanted to. aaron could hear the girl SCREAMING and crying just upstairs in the small, rundown shack. the metal music blasting through the walls and shaking the thin, single-pane windows couldn’t even drown out the HORRID sound. it made his chest ache and his teeth grind until his jaw hurt.  

       the team was five minutes out, just a few miles from where they were standing, but they both knew there was a chance she wasn’t going to make it that long. dammit! why didn’t they have someone else with them? even one more body, one more gun, and he’d be able to JUSTIFY giving the order. going in with just the two of them would be the worst call a unit chief could make. spencer was just back in the field and he wasn’t ready for a multi-story BREACH and SEARCH. they’d only come to question a possible witness. they hadn’t known this would be the house, that these would be the men they were looking for.          it’s difficult, watching the struggle unfold in the other man’s TROUBLED features. a crisis of conscience with no good outcomes. they were dealing with extremely violent and aggressive men and no way to tell how many they numbered. at least three distinct identifications had been made. two with PRIOR ARRESTS for gang related murders. that had been the last bit of information they’d been fed through their comms. just another factor worsening his HESITATION, while spencer showed far less with each passing second.           when spencer’s hand eases toward the door knob hotch shakes his head again, more emphatically than before, but that doesn’t stop him. slender fingers twist the brass and spencer’s eyes are suddenly darting up to meet his, allowing him to catch the silent movement of his mouth, it’s open. two very DANGEROUS words and hotch’s heart skips a beat, knowing already what’s about to happen. a shrill cry breaks through the pause as one chaotic song passes onto another. spencer opens the door.               please no. it’s the last fleeting thought that sprints through his head before he’s squaring up with his gun held firmly aloft, a step behind the rash boy charging in ahead of him. aaron sweeps right with an UNSPOKEN an intimate knowledge of this dance, knowing spencer will go left. he sees the stairs, a split second to realize it’s a reflection and then he’s swiveling back to whisper an urgent, ❝don’t!❞ they both knew where the screams were coming from, but PROTOCOL was there to keep them safe. he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as the stairs are taken two at a time and spencer is on the corner landing before hotch even reaches the bottom step. he forces himself to take a breath as he ascends DOUBLE TIME, experienced muscles don’t betray the nerves flooding his system and by the time he reaches the second floor he’s again standing beside the other agent. the house was brightly lit, every switched flipped, but the windows had been darkened with paint and scraps of cloth. two doors stood SENTINEL on each side of the hallway and hotch physically extends his arm to block spencer from advancing. a stern look punctuates the movement, the set of his jaw like a VICE GRIP.             there’s a series of hand gestures adding up to the sum of - we check each room together, and he waits until he sees the glint of RECOGNITION in the other’s eyes before he steps forward. the floorboard creaks under the heel of hotch’s shoe, as loud as shattering glass to his ears. there’s a moment he convinces himself it wasn’t heard, until the sounds of boots crossing toward the door ring just as loud.  ❝go!❞ he pushes spencer back a step, forcing him down the flight of stairs - hopefully obscured from immediate LINE OF SIGHT. the door flies open with a force that slams it into the wall. hotch doesn’t flinch and the second the flash of a black muzzle comes into view he’s squeezing the trigger of his own gun. one clean shot to the chest and then another.                it’s the relief that just momentarily steals his AWARENESS. a thief that costs him dearly. the other door had opened, sound masked by the drop of a body, and aaron only catches sight of the man out of the corner of his eye before he feels the spray of BUCKSHOT like a sledgehammer to his vest. pain blossoms in his arms and the side of his neck and he barely catches himself on the railing, blood already slick on his hand. a step back and the stairs move from beneath his feet, shifting and landing him practically falling onto reid before sending them both down a few steps onto the landing. the man with the shotgun ADVANCES quickly and aaron’s vision is clouding with darkness as the man suddenly drops.              the last thing he sees is spencer’s revolver, held outstretched from where he was trapped beneath aaron. a DELIRIOUS smile tugs at his cheeks when he sees emily step through the front door followed by the local detective. he blinks a few times but it doesn’t clear the HAZE and all he can manage on the brink of losing consciousness is a soft, ❝good shot spence.❞    

[objctive]

                it was just after dusk, the streetlamps having been lit, and the walk from the train station to the hotel had been a BRISK one. it was going to be a cold winter in washington. aaron hotchner had been called to the capitol to consult in an investigation taking place. he’d taken to pursuing criminal cases before they were taken before a judge, the bench hadn’t served him well enough. now he was to meet a DOCTOR in the hotel’s lounge.                the room was a haze of smoke, businessmen and politicians taking their after-dinner cigar and brandy. everyone aside from a slender boy perched near the entrance studying the contents of a CHESS BOARD. he didn’t have a cigar or a drink in hand and didn’t look old enough to be frequenting the establishment. ❝excuse me sir, do you know a dr. spencer reid? i’m supposed to be meeting him here,❞ hotch glances down at his watch, ❝presently.❞                                                  ♥ @quantified187​