Warmanjuary – Day 17 (Mirror): Professional Performance
Fandom: The Pitt
Pairing / Character(s): Dr. Jack Abbott x Police Officer Reader
Reader: Police Officer Reader
Rating: Teen
Tone: Relationship Study / Workplace Tension
➤ Part of the Warmanjuary January fic action
➤ Theme: Stoking the fire (warming up January)
➤ Full masterlist
Warnings: post one night stand (non-explicit), professional boundary tension, workplace stress, mild injury discussion
“Hey smiley! Since you’re my Favorite, you get to pick your poison today.”
You had finished a police report on a neighbour’s dispute, so the involved parties could sue each other. Just as Sergeant Wolf calls you up.
You look over to her from the bullpen, “Oh, I love you too, Sarge. What’s on the menu?”
“Shoplifting in a luxury boutique by a group of youngsters or newlyweds being carjacked,” she sounds done with the day already.
Walking over you say, “Ugh, you warned me Valentines Day was the worst. Anyone hurt?”
“The husband played the hero. They’re on their on their way to PTMC.”
“Okay, I’ll take that,” you didn’t even have to think about that one.
“YOU take newlyweds on Valentines Day over sorting out an aggravated shop owner and some youngsters?” disbelieve is written all over her face.
“Yeah, I feel charitable today,” you give her your brightest smile, thinking about meeting Jack.
She shrugs her shoulders, “Well, then here are your keys to 59.”
Walking into the Pitt you don’t have to ask where to find your newlyweds.
“You’re the WORST possible idiot! I can’t believe I married you!”
Following the voice leads you to trauma 1.
As you enter, the poor guy tries to argue, “Darling, please! I was just trying to...”
“Mrs. Bennett. We need to take care of your husband right now,” Jack’s voice is calm and professional. When he clocks you, he nods.
You give him a tight smile. Stepping between the woman and the gurney with her husband you say, “And I need you to answer some questions for me, please. Let’s step outside.” While you lead her outside the medical staff can finally get to work.
The doors have barely closed behind you.
“We have insurance! The damn car has FULL coverage! This was so unnecessary.”
Schooling your features you say, “I understand this is stressful ma’am.” You introduce yourself. “Please, let’s find somewhere quieter to talk,” your eyes search Lena, the charge nurse.
She’s at the hub, looks up and says: “You can use the family room. I’ll come find you when she can see her husband.”
“Thanks’ Lena.” That woman, always exactly where she was needed.
“Mrs. Bennett,” you point your arm in the direction of the family room and lead the way through the ED.
Closing the door behind you, you pick a seat across from her.
“Okay, Mrs. Bennett, first what make and model was the car?”
“A new Volvo 90, white, license plate BEN – 2601.”
After calling the intel in, you get back to her, “If you could please tell me what happened. Starting from moment you encountered the people that took your car.”
She draws a deep breath, “Milles stopped at a red light. His door was wrenched open. Mine was locked—they tried. They dragged him out—he was still standing. Showed me a gun...” She swallows. “Ordered me out of the car. I unlocked the door and got out—Milles yelled at me not to. Then he yelled at them and shoved one. They demanded the keys. He refused. He got struck down. They left.”
You nod, make some notes. “How many were there?”
“Three. They all wore dark clothes and masks. It all happened so fast.”
“Of course. So, when you said they showed you the gun—Was there just one gun and was it pointed at you?”
She shakes her head, “No, no. He just lifted his shirt.”
“Okay, so one gun in the waistband. Any chance you can describe it?”
“It was a GUN!” she yells at you.
“Yeah, okay I understand. Any other details you can remember?” you try to get more info.
“Other details? I was not watching a movie! We were being robbed. My husband got hurt!”
“Yes ma’am. You unfortunately were.”
Knocking sounds from the door, then Lena pockes her head in “Mrs. Bennett, you can see your husband now.”
Heaving a sight of relief, you follow her in the direction of the hub. Muttering, “Valentines Day truly is the worst.”
Light chuckling from your right—Jack looks up from a chart with a smirk. “Are you new? Cause that’s an old hat,” he teases you.
You keep your eyes on Lena, who leads the woman to her husband.
Looking back at Jack, you reply, “Not new enough to not already hate this day.”
He knocks your shoulder with his, “I feel you. I have to get back to work.”
“Yup, I have to interview the husband in a few. Hopefully the wife has calmed down then.”
But thankfully, you could give the couple some time to settle, while getting some fuel for your nerves.
A five-minute walk got you to a bakery, where you get a much-needed energy boost. Although the Valentines commerce on every corner sets your teeth on edge. With two coffees and two sausage-and-cheese rolls on whole wheat—still warm through the paper—you returned to the Pitt.
At the hub you headed straight for Jack, setting the coffee down beside him. “I assumed you drink it black?”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks.” He eyes the paper bags in your other hand.
“No hiding treats from you, huh?” You hand over one of the rolls, “Eat it while it’s warm.”
“That would take a miracle,” he replies. Just as Dr. Ellis calls for him.
After disposing off your trash, you head to the patient room to get the husband’s statement. Knocking shortly, you check the room and enter, as the newlyweds are alone. You introduce yourself this time to Mr. Bennett. He’s laying in bed with a bandaged head and a few cuts on his arm.
“If could please tell me what happened. Starting from moment you encountered the people that took your car.”
“I already told you, how we were robbed!” the wife answers.
“Yes, Ma’am. However, I need your husband’s side of the story for my report, too.”
“He was an idiot! Risking his life for a perfectly insured car! That’s his story.”
You took a breath and spotted Jack through the glass of the door—shooting him a pleading lock.
“As I said Mrs. Bennett, I need to briefly take your husband’s statement—from him,” you try again.
Just as Jack enters.
“But I...”
“Mrs. Bennett, would you come with me and fill out the insurance information?”
“Ähm, yes sure. But maybe that can wait? Miles needs me,” she grabs Mr. Bennett’s arm.
“It’s okay Darling. Please, you’re the insurance person. I’m just a junior lawyer,” he smiles at her, patting her hand.
“Fine.” She turns to you, “A brief statement. No interrogating my foolish Miles.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Turns out the husband is utterly useless between hitting his head and the shock, he can’t remember a thing. And just when you’re done with him—his wife is back, shouting you a dark look.
“Thank you, Mr. Bennett. We’re done here,” with that you leave the room and almost stumble into Jack in the hallway.
“Woah.” You grip each other’s forearms to stabilize.
“Did she send you running?”
“That couple could scare anyone out of relationships, never mind marriage.”
“That’s never gonna be us!” the two of you say almost simultaneously.
The world around you freezes for a moment as you’re both stunned.
Jack laughs first, “Uh, guess we’re starting something.”
Still laughing you answer, “You’re on.”
Your radio cracks on the way out of the Pitt, “White Volvo, license plate BEN – 2601, found crashed on Route 28–three people inside. They’re on route to PTMC.”
You turn on your heel, heading for Dana at the hub. “David 12 – Attache me to that. The Volvo is my carjacking case from yesterday evening. I’m already at PTMC,” you state to Sergeant Wolf through your radio.
“10—4. Note, these wannabes are completely wasted.”
At the hub Jack is just finishing a chart, his eyebrows raising at your return. You smirk, “Seems the case solved itself. There are drunken wannabe gangsters incoming after crashing the hijacked car.”
Both Lena and Jack shake their heads.
“So, you’re taking charge of them, when we’re done?”
“Yes, ma’am. Happy to handcuff them for you before then, if they give you trouble,” you tap the cuffs on your belt. You took to always carry two on your belt and an extra pair in your car. Nothing more embarrassing for a good officer than running out of cuffs.
“If you’re still here when the shift is over, come grab a beer with me on the roof,” Jack loops at you while moving to the ambulance bay.
You smile, “Oh, I’ll still be here!”
Valentines Day, maybe one of the worst days to work, but working with Jack made it a whole lot better.
This is the mirror fic for the original MDNI story for Day 17 Expectations
The undercover operation had been a success for intelligence—not so much for him. He was home alone. In his bed. Remembering you…
The way you danced, like nothing else mattered. Your body moving to the beat until he felt his heartbeat fall in sync. Your hair kissing your shoulders with every move. Those pants hugging your hips. That damn shirt revealing just one shoulder and a glimpse of your belly when you moved just right. He had wanted to push it off you so badly.
For a second, he thought of the badge clipped inside his jacket—and how easily some lines blurred. But he couldn’t even go over to you. He was on the clock. And his job was to keep his eyes on the mark. So all he got were quick, stolen glances. Then the fucking mark had stood up and left. He could’ve screamed in frustration. He had to follow him. Had to spring the trap on the cursed guy. No time to even send you his number with a drink or ask the barkeep about you.
So he lay naked on his back in bed, closing his eyes. Thinking about what could have been.
He walked over to you, through the dancing crowd. When he reached you, you turned your back to him. Grabbing his right hand, you placed it on your hip. It came to rest on your skin, beneath the shirt, right above your waistband. Leaning forward, he murmured low near your ear, “So, you wanna dance with me?” Your laughter rang out over the music, hooking into a long-forgotten yet familiar memory. The back of your head softly hit his shoulder. His nose filled with your perfume. ~His breath quickened. He grew hard.~
There was no answer from you. But you stepped back into him. Next, you started to move with him and the beat. Your ass brushed against him over and over. Never for long, never quite the full, prolonged connection he craved. ~His hand pressed down on his hardened dick. A moan escaped his lips.~ It was sweet torture. He could only take it for so long. “Enough teasing. Let’s step outside,” were his next words, followed by him leading you out the back door to his truck.
Jay closed his fingers firmly around himself, stroking up and down. The gathered precum eased his movements. Your body would have gripped him so tight. Now he couldn’t hold back the groans any longer. Rotating the flat of his hand over the tip, he sped up his movements, hips coming off the bed to thrust up. The sounds falling from his lips grew louder. Needier. Still, he drew out the pleasure, prolonging the time he could feel you riding him. Just a little longer—then he squeezed harder, thumbed the sensitive tip.
“Argh,” his loud groan vibrated against the walls. His head fell into the pillows, hips stilling after two more thrusts. But his eyes remained closed.
Credits:
This fic was inspired by two works:
– Like You Mean It by @thatfanficstuff (Chapter One: Bad Thing)
– In the Shower by @godjustkys
Both influenced the tone and framing of this piece.
Header and Line Divider by the author
Writen as part of the Warmanjuary fic action Masterlist Warmanjuary
Pairing / Character(s): Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Dana Evans
Reader: Med Student Reader (gn!reader)
Rating: Teen
Tone: Medical Procedural / Character Study
➤ Part of the Warmanjuary January fic action
➤ Theme: Stoking the fire (warming up January)
➤ Full masterlist
7:00 am
Nervous as all hell you approach the ED’s hub under the too bright lights. You were told by administration to check-in with the charge nurse Dana Evans. The AC is turned to the max—making you shudder. And all the sterile grey and white colours aren’t helping. You’ll have to grab your fleece later.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for the charge nurse Dana Evans.”
The older blonde woman behind the counter looks at you, “You’ve found her, hon.”
“Morning Mrs. Evans. I’m the new med fourth year med student Baker.”
“It’s just Dana. And you’re with Dr. Robby today.”
She turns around to an older doctor, “Robby, that’s your little shadow for today,” pointing to you.
“Admin decided you’ll do orientation day for Baker.”
Dr. Robby sighs, “What a perfect way to start this shift.”
Looking at you, he adds, “Hi Baker, welcome to the Pitt. I’m Dr. Robinavitch, but please call me Dr. Robby. Let’s get you oriented.”
8.30 am
Your head is buzzing with information. Names of doctors and nurses, locations and patients are all fighting for a space in your short-term memory. Wait...that buzz isn’t in your head. It’s Dr. Robby’s smartwatch. He’s checking a chart, looking at his watch, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders. Subconsciously you roll yours too. Uh, you hadn’t realised you were this tense.
11:00 am
Stepping out of another patient room with the attending, you release a breath. Sometimes the system just plain sucked. Dr. Robby adjusts his stethoscope—by taking it off his neck, looking at it and placing it back. Thinking about it, you saw him do this after leaving every patient room.
Then he heads for the hub, where he and Dana are going over the current patients. Who waits on what, who can go home and free up a bed.
“Buzz, buzz.” It’s the watch again. Dr. Robby grabs a chart from the holder and moves his head from shoulder to shoulder then up and down. Okay...? You had heard of alarms that reminded you to move or drink water. But what was this for?
12:30 pm
“Fair warning people, we have officially passed the 90 °F mark just now,” Dana informs everyone.
“Okay, let’s set North 5 up as your cooling area, now. Baker, give Jesse a hand,” Dr. Robby directs.
A second later his watch lights up again. He heads towards the staff lounge. While you walk over to Senior Nurse Jesse, who indicates for you to follow him to the supply closet.
“Betting board’s open,” Armard announces.
“A betting board? On what?” you ask Jesse.
“Number of heat patients we’re gonna get and their condition,” he informs you.
“You seriously bet on patients?”
“Patient numbers and conditions not outcomes. That would be immoral.”
“Good to know.” Interesting distinction, you still aren’t gonna place a bet.
1:00 pm
After you’re done setting up the cooling area you go head into the staff room. Your water bottle needs a refill. Dr. Robby is sitting at the table jotting down notes into a small notebook.
“Oh, are those for patients?”
He looks up clearly surprised and nods, adding, “And all the other things that keep me busy.”
Closing the notebook he says, “Let’s see what Dana’s got for me now.”
You head over to the hub. Jesse is on the phone holding one ear, while a stretcher is being pushed by. Then Langdon notices Dr. Robby.
“Robby, there’s...”
“Ah there you are...”
“Dr. Robby, can you...”
“I need you for...”
Dr. Robby holds up his hands as he is greeted with a cacophony of simultaneous request. He takes a sip of water with his eyes closed, while waiting for people to pause themselves.
“One at a time, please. Dana?”
“Three MVA patients five minutes out, at least one critical.”
“Whitaker?”
“I need a second opinion on Mrs. Lafayette. I’ve run out of options.”
“Grab Langdon.”
“Santos?”
“I need you to sign off on the transfer for Mr. Rocker.” She’s holding out the tablet, he signs.
“Dr. King?”
“My patient Mr. White is refusing to be treated by any female staff.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Tell him, that’s his right. But he’ll have to find another hospital, as we can’t accommodate his request. For now, you’re with me on the incoming.”
And you walk towards the bay.
2:00 pm
You’re leaving trauma 1 beside Dr. Robby after the last of MVA patients is stabilized. Unfortunately, in the case of the elderly man—stabilized means comatose without a clear prognosis. There’s a faint murmur coming from him, “My hands, my watch, the sleeves of my shirt, the tiles on the floor, my shoes, the drift of air, the sweat on my back...”
You nearly stop mid step when you realise, he is practicing a grounding technique. That one you have been taught at the VA—in case a patient has a PTSD attack. So, not the time to ask though.
Now, his watch is lighting up. He turns to you, “Excuse me for a moment.”
And walks away towards the stairs.
3:00 pm
“Hey Baker! Where is Cap?” Dana asks you.
“Towards the stairs. He said, he’d be back in a minute.”
She nods and heads that way. Shortly after she comes back with Dr. Robby, who waves you to follow them. At the hub he claps his hands loudly.
“Listen up, we’re about to get slammed. A wedding party of 100 reported signs of food poisoning.”
Groans and headshaking all around.
He adjusts his posture by squaring his shoulders and planting his feet hip-width apart. Before continuing, “We’ll probably get about half. And the waiting room is already packed. So, get everyone out of here if possible. Be quick, be efficient.”
Dana hands him the stack of charts for releases to review. While he looks them over, you notice him take deliberate breaths. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold each for the same amount of time. Wow, the man seems to have a stack of tools for managing days like today. If the Pitt is always this crazy maybe you should phone your VA buddies and get some for yourself.
4:30 pm
Dr. Robby’s watch lights up as you’re leaving the now filled up cooling area with him. He shakes his head and places a hand flat against the wall for probably five seconds. Then he resumes walking towards the South hallway, where the food poisoning patients are stacked.
He has just started checking in with Dr. King, when Jesse interrupts, “Incoming cardiac arrest.”
“Got it,” Dr. Robby answers.
You see him brushing his thumb across the textured edge of his ID badge, while he finishes giving out treatment orders for the dehydrated wedding guests.
Then, you’re back in trauma 2. Student doctors Kwon and Ogilvie are working with Dr. Whitaker on the cardiac arrest. They try one thing after another. But the monitors beeping are interrupted only by the charging and discharging of the defibrillator. When the student doctors start an argument Dr. Robby touches each finger to his thumb while moving his lips.
He speaks up a moment later, “This is not the time nor place to trump out the competition student doctors. We just lost a patient. I’ll be back in five to do a debrief.”
5:00
Like a duckling you follow him outside to the ambulance bay. You see him setting a timer, before sitting down on the curb—putting his head in his hands.
As the times goes off, he stands up and heads back inside.
When he uses the hand sanitizer, you can hear him whisper "this is now, not then".
6:00 pm
“And Dana takes the poll,” Armand announces to a chorus of reactions.
“Really?”
“Again?”
“Should’ve seen it coming.”
“Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, Langdon. Hand me my money, Armand.”
You shake your head at the scene, as you feel a hand on your shoulder. It’s Dr. Robby.
“So, how did you like your first shift here?”
“It was...informative and very busy.”
“There sure isn’t a boring day around here. So, you’re not running for the hills?”
“Not yet, Dr. Robby.” You give him a smirk and he waves you off, while his watch lights up.
Header and Dividers by the author
Mirror fic for ☕🔍Mandatory (MDNI)
Mature themes due to institutional pressure and mental health context; no sex or violence.
After a public incident, hospital protocol takes over.
A scheduled meeting, clear boundaries, and institutional safeguards put structure around a situation that can’t be ignored.
Pairing / Character(s): Ensemble (Melissa King, Frank Langdon, John Shen, Parker Ellis, Jack Abbott, Lena Handzo, supporting staff & patients)
Reader: no reader insert
Rating: Teen
Tone: Case Fic / Ensemble Character Study
➤ Part of the Warmanjuary January fic action
➤ Theme: Stoking the fire (warming up January)
➤ Full masterlist
Warnings: medical emergencies, psychological distress, superstition-driven fear, discussion of illness and death, emergency department stress
7:00 pm
“Hey Dr. King, pleasure working with you tonight!” Senior Resident Frank Langdon smiles at Second Year Resident Dr. Melissa King, who steps up beside him. “A full moon night...,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think we’re going to see any more craziness than every other night.”
“You sure about that? There’s got to be a reason, we were assigned to support them tonight,” Mel asks.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Sure enough to bet on it, Langdon?” Attending John Shen throws in from the side.
He shrugs his shoulders, “Why not? So, how many crazies do you get on an average night shift?”
“5 dollars on a max. of two it is then,” Langdon decides.
“Okay, I’ll say at least double. So, my money is on four,” Shen states.
“I’m with you on that,” Ellis announces.
“Guess I’ll do the tally then,” Lena Handzo—the charge nurse—decides.
“Write me up for six, Lena,” Senior Attending Dr. Jack Abbot throws in, while doing the handover.
After the handover from the day shift is completed, Ellis checks the board for her next case.
“Dr. King, let’s check out the kid with the pennies,” Ellis grabs Mel’s attention and heads towards west 13. She opens the door and addresses the mother, “Hello, I’m Dr. Ellis and this is Dr. King. What brings you in today?”
“Pff, my son...Evan... we were at the zoo. They had a “wishing well” in the marine section. It was a basin with a rail and a couple goldfish. People had thrown in pennies and other change,” she shakes her head. “I was studying the feeding schedule and when I turned to Evan... He had crawled under the railing—sat on his knees some change in his hands,” she shrugs her shoulder. “I asked him what he was doing and he said: Mom, look I’m eating luck.”
“He said he ate some of the change?”
“Pff, yes. I have no idea where he got the idea.”
“Barry told me,” Evan pipes in.
“...Barry, oh for heavens sake!”
Mel leans down to Evan, “Can you lay down for me, so I can check your belly?”
Evan nods and lays down on the bed. Nurse Rosa takes his temp and blood pressure, while Mel examines him.
“Rosa, we gonna need an abdominal X-ray,” Ellis orders.
“Ma’am, the X-ray will tell us, where the coins are and how many we have to deal with. We will monitor your son and be back after we checked the X-rays.”
8:00 pm
“Dr. Langdon there is a case waiting for you in west 12. A teenager believes she will die today,” Lena smirks.
Langdon raises his eyebrows, “King you’re with me on this one.” With that they head over and enter.
“Hello Lena, I’m Dr. Langdon and this is Dr. King. How can we help you?”
“Please, don’t let me die. I know I screw up a lot, but please...,” she’s shaking her head.
“Lena! We are going to help you! Please, calm down and tell us what’s going on,” Langdon’s firm voice doesn’t seem to get through to the terrified girl.
“Hm, Lena, why do you think, you’ll die?” Mel tries to get the teenager to look at her.
“Because that’s what the spirit said! She said I’m going to die tonight! Please, don’t let that happen!”
Drawing in a breath, Langdon runs a hand through his hair.
“Okay,” Mel gently lays a hand on the girl’s arm, “Alyssa here is going to take your blood pressure and temperature and test your glucose levels. And we are requesting a psychologist to come speak with you.”
“Should we call your parents for you?” Langdon asks.
Lena shakes her head and replies in a small voice, “They can’t help me...”
Mel squeezes her arm, “Try breathing in through your nose, hold your breath and breathe out through your mouth, Lena.” She demonstrates while moving her hand to show the direction of the air.
Meanwhile Alyssa takes the girl’s vitals and announces that the glucose is normal.
After some breaths, “Very good, Lena. Do this whenever you feel overwhelmed. We will check on you later.”
Both doctors head back to the hub. Langdon looks at Lean, “You got me there, this one counts.”
“You bet it does,” Lena singsongs back.
“Dr. Ellis? The X-rays for Evan are here,” Mel holds up her tablet.
The doctor takes a quick look and nods, “What do you see King?”
“Five coins, possibly six, no obstruction.”
“Which means?”
“We give Evan a laxative and wait for him to pass the coins,” Mel shrugs.
“Correct. Let’s go tell the mom.”
They tally to room west 13 and enter.
“Hello. We come bearing good news Evan,” Mel sits down on the bed across from him.
“We will give you a medicine so the coins come out with your poo. As soon as they are on their way, you can go home with your mom.”
“And how long will that take?” the mom wants to know.
“That depends on Evan’s reaction to the laxative. It could be two or three hours,” Dr. Ellis answers.
The mom sighs.
“The good news is, there is no obstruction so Evan doesn’t need surgery,” Mel assures.
“Mhm.”
Rosa hands Evan the laxative with a smile. As he takes it, Dr. Ellis turns to the mom, “We will continue to monitor Evan. If he tolerates the meds and fluids, we can discharge him.”
9:00 pm
“Rember to eat something now, people. Evening rush hour is about to start,” Abbot advises his staff. The group at the hub nods and moves to follow his recommendation.
After coming back from the lounge Shen takes a look at the board.
“Sudden Paralysis of both legs? Sounds like a case for us Dr. Ellis,” he addresses the Senior Resident. She looks up and follows him to central 9.
“Hello, Mr. Halvorsen. I’m Dr. Shen, this is my colleague Dr. Ellis. You stated in triage, that you lost mobility of your legs?”
“Yes. I can’t move either the right or left.”
“And when did this start?”
“Around 8 pm. We came back from birthday celebration. My wife drove—when I tried to get out of the car, my legs wouldn’t move.”
Shen takes notes on the chart, “How long was the drive?”
“About an hour.”
“And you had no trouble before arriving at home?”
“Correct.”
“Okay, nurse Bridget will check your vitals and draw blood, while Dr. Ellis does a neuro exam.”
Dr. Ellis tests the reflexes on both legs, checks Halvorsen’s pupils and grip strength.
“This doesn’t appear to be a stroke,” Ellis assures the patient.
“It could be a spinal problem,” Shen states, and they move the patient onto his side. So, he can examine the spine for signs of pain or tenderness.
“Well, Hr. Halvorsen so far, we ruled out a stroke and a traumatic spinal injury. We will send you up for a MRI though, to see if there is anything blocking your spinal canal,” Shen sums up the results of their exams.
“We’ll be back, when we have your images and lab results,” Ellis says.
“Fair warning everyone!” Lena calls out at the hub. “At a colleague party someone had the brilliant idea to bring Absinthe. First three patients are on their way. We’ll take them to south 17, 19 and 20.”
Abbot claps his hands, “That means, Dr. King, Dr. Ellis and Dr. Langdon—you each grab one. Give them antiemetics—if they’re nauseous, IV fluids—if they need them and general reassurances that Absinthe is just a very potent alcoholic beverage.”
The doctors agree.
10:00 pm
A man in all black slips through the ED’s doors. Even his messenger bag is black leather. He strides across the floor as if he owns the place, stopping in front of the trauma rooms. There he pulls a pipe out of his bag and lights it. He carefully swings it from left to right, vocalising softly. The charge nurse spots him, when he moves towards the hub.
“Sir? Sir! Stop! Whatever this is, you can’t smoke here!”
He stops vocalising, “My apologies Ma’am, but I’m not smoking. I’m cleansing these halls of healing.”
Abbot steps up beside Lena, “Well, these halls are equipped with smoke detectors, so put this out,” he points to the pipe. “And follow me please.”
“Central 6 is free. And I’ll inform security.” Lena informs Abbot, who nods.
“If you insist.”
“I have to Mr.?”
“Ashcroft, Rowan Ashcroft. Mr.?”
“Dr. Abbot, I’m the senior attending on this shift,” he steers his guest towards the room.
“Dr. Langdon, please join us,” Abbot throws out in passing.
After closing the door he turns to Ashcroft, “How did you get in here?”
“Through the doors.”
“Are you a patient? I mean have you signed in at the window?”
“No, thankfully I don’t require your help.”
“So, why are you here?” Langdon counters.
“Because these halls of healing and the healers require a cleansing. There has been too much stress, pain and suffering here lately.”
“Well, this is an emergency department,” Langdon justifies.
“Mr. Ashcroft, we appreciate your concern, but your continued presence is interfering with patient care,” Abbot tries to reason.
“And possibly smoke alarms,” Langdon adds.
“How about just cleansing the staff then? I would just ask them to transfer all their negative feelings onto Sephira,” Ashcroft pulls a small Boa constrictor out of his bag.
Langdon takes several steps back. Abbot grabs his head, “As lovely as Sephira is,” he extends a hand toward her. “She is an animal and this is a hospital. No animals of any kind are allowed here.”
“I’m sorry but I have to ask you to leave.”
“Can I at least cleanse you.”
“No,” Abbot opens the door and indicates for the man to leave. Security is already waiting for him to escort him out.
At the hub, “Dr. Ellis? Everything has been well with Evan the last two hours,” Rosa states.
“Great. Then King can discharge him.”
“I’ll let her know.”
Shen shaking his head over his tablet, “I can’t find anything wrong with this patient.”
“Apart from the fact, that he can’t move his legs,” Ellis throws in.
“Haha, very funny. So, what now?”
“We go back in and see if something changed. If not, we dig deeper into this.”
“Ah, hello?”
“Dr. Shen, Dr. Ellis, this is my wife, Anne.”
“Nice to meet you,” the doctors greet her.
“Mr. Halvorsen, we’d like to repeat your earlier exam. See if there are any changes.”
“Sure.”
Ellis goes through the tests again, with the same results.
“Ähm, doctors? Have you ever heard of something like this being psychological?”
“It’s certainly possible. Why would you think that?” Shen asks the wife.
“Well, my grandmother cursed him.”
Both doctors take a second to get their facial expressions under control.
“Your grandmother cursed your husband? Anything specific?”
“Mh...you cheating, lying, worthless dick will get what you deserve! Our family’s ancestors’ wrath will come down on you! You can’t outrun your fate!”
Ellis and Shen cough.
“I’m assuming he cheated on you Mrs. Halvorsen? Yeah, the “shock” of being uncovered and publicly called out like this could have triggered the symptoms,” Shen states. “Especially since we can’t find any physical causes for his paralysis.”
“We’ll continue to monitor your husband and check back in an hour,” Ellis holds the door for Shen.
Back at the hub:
“WTF?!” Shen is shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Oh, GOD! I love her grandmother!” Ellis is chuckling.
“Yeah, now let’s hope since it’s out in the open, he’ll improve,” Bridget adds.
“Has Psych been in yet, to see Lena Morales?” Langdon checks with charge nurse Lena.
“No, might still be hours it’s a full moon. They’re slammed.”
He sighs, “Okay. King wanna try again with Lena?”
“Sure.”
Mel smiles as they enter, “Hi again Lena, are you feeling a little better?”
The teenager shrugs her shoulders, still looking tense, “Not really. There are still hours left...”
“Have the breathing exercises helped?”
Nurse Alyssa takes her vitals again, with a slightly lower BP now.
“I think. Still...why is this happening to me!?”
“Lena, how did the spirit contact you?”
“We used a Ouija board.”
“A Ouija board?” Langdon turns away quickly to look at the ceiling.
Mel carefully elbows him, “Dr. Langdon! Lena, you said “we”. Who was with you?”
“Friends.”
“And did these “friends” get scary predictions, too?” Langdon again.
“No, why would they? I asked.”
“You asked if you’re going to die today?”
“No,” she wrings her hands, “I asked about my future. And it said I had none.”
“Jesus!”
“Well, maybe it just couldn’t answer your question?” Mel offers.
“But does the other side not know everything?”
“How could they know the future just because they’re dead?”
Lena blinks, “Mhm, maybe they don’t. But I still feel safer here.”
“Okay, we will not make you leave. We’ll be back after midnight,” Mel gives her a reassuring smile.
When she closes the door, Langdon sighs, “Even without psych we have to keep her here for her own safety.”
11:00 pm
“So, what’s up next,” Langdon checks the board. “Poisoning? Dr. King, you in?”
She nods and they head into north 5 accompanied by nurse Bridget.
“Hello Mrs. Hargreeve, I’m Dr. Langdon and this is Dr. King. What brings you in today?”
“I have been poisoned by my daughter.”
“Okay, what makes you say your daughter poisoned you and how old is she?” Langdon asks. While the nurse takes the patient’s vitals.
“She is 15 and she told me! Now, I’m nauseous and shivering.”
“Did your daughter tell you, what she used to poison you?” he requests.
“No, she won’t.”
“Fine, then we run a Tox screen to find out. In the meantime, we’ll give you some IV fluids and something against the nausea,” Langdon gives his orders to Bridget.
“We’ll send our social worker over to speak with you. We’ll be back with the lab results, Mrs. Hargreeve,” King states.
When both reach the hub, Lena smiles, “There you are, be dears and take care of the next two guys from that Absinthe party. They’re in north 1 and 3.”
“And Langdon, I’d say with your first case, the shaman and Shen’s curse paralysis we’re safely past two crazies now.”
“Yeah, I know and that’s if our mother was actually poisoned,” he huffs.
To Shen Lena says, “Dr. Shen, Mr. Halvorsen can now move his legs again.”
“Good, please discharge him. Tell him he should check in with a marriage counsellor if this happens again.”
“The cheating or the paralysis, Dr. Shen?”
“Either.”
12:00 am
“Dr. King, will you please, discharge our Ouija board victim now?” Langdon sounds pained. Treating intoxicated partygoers on top of a night with crazies all over the board will do that.
“Sure, Dr. Langdon. On my way now. You don’t wanna come?”
“Hell, no!”
“So, Lena, it’s 0:30 am now. You feeling okay?”
“I guess.”
“Great, then we will let you go home now. Your vitals are better and you’re a lot calmer. Nurse Alyssa will give a referral to see a psychologist the next couple days. Be safe.”
“Bye, Dr. King...and thank you.”
Mel smiles, “You’re welcome Lena.”
They’re barely back at the board, when charge nurse Lena turns to Dr. Shen.
“Dr. Shen, can you check on north 4 next? The patient is pretty terrified,” she asks.
“Family history of heart attacks at the age of 35?” he reads from the chart.
“That can’t be real,” Langdon shakes his head.
“Let’s find out Dr. Langdon. Bridget, you free?”
“Coming.”
“Hello, Mr. O’Connell. I’m attending Dr. Shen and this is our senior resident Dr. Langdon. Nurse Bridget will take your vitals while we go over some questions.”
“Hello. Two doctors?”
“Yes, you get the two for one special tonight,” Shen offers a tight smile. “So, what can we do for you?”
“I know it sounds like...make-believe or something. But my father died at 35 from something with his heart, as did his father and his grandfather before him. And I turn 35 tomorrow, well technically today.”
“Three deaths in the same family in connection with heart problems sounds like a pattern to me Mr. O’Connell, not make-believe,” Shen reassures the patient.
“We will run labs and an EKG first to rule out immediate heart events,” Langdon nods to Bridget. “Also, someone from cardiology is going to take a look at you.”
“As soon as those are back, we’ll come talk to you. In the meantime, you will be closely monitored,” Shen states pointing to the monitor the patient is connected to.
Bridget has taken the patient’s temperature and BP and is now drawing the blood.
Lena catches Mel in the hallway, “Dr. King, we just got to more Absinthes’. Can you take them?”
“Sure, where are they?”
“West 13 and 14.”
“Got it.”
1:00 am
“Do we have to involve social services?” King asks Abbot as they present their case to him at the hub.
“Yeah, no way around that. Even if we find nothing, a minor claiming to have poisoned their parent, means they have to get involved.”
“I’ll make the call,” Langdon agrees.
“And I’ll call Kiara to speak with the mom,” King offers.
“And get Lena to call the daughter, maybe she’ll tell her what’s going on here,” Abbot adds.
When Langdon checks his tablet, after making the call to social services, he calls Shen over, “Hey, Dr. Shen, the EKG of Mr. O’Connell is a little borderline, BP is still high. And cardiology hasn’t been down yet.”
“Pff. Then it’s us again.”
“Hello again, Mr. O’Connell. So, your lab results are fine. And we don’t see any sign for a current heart problem,” Shen sums up.
“However, could you be more specific about what kind of problems the males in your family had with their hearts?” Langdon quizzes.
“Well, my father was an electrician. He had a work accident and died the next day. He had a heart attack I think.”
“An electrician—with a work-related accident; Mr. O’Connell, was that accident an electric shock?” Shen’s brows are pinched together.
“Yes,” the patient nods. “That’s what my mom said.”
“Okay, and your grandfather—did he have any accidents before his heart issues?”
O’Connell shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t think getting stabbed in the heart during Vietnam counts as an accident.”
“No, but it sure explains why he developed heart problems later.”
“But he lived for five more years after coming back!”
“Yeah, that’s possible. Some heart injuries weaken it and lead to a person’s death years after the initial injury,” Langdon offers.
“That leaves your great grandfather,” Shen’s tipping his fingers against the tablet.
“He didn’t have any accidents, that I know of or other injuries to his heart.”
“So, under what circumstances did he die?” Langdon wants to know.
Another shoulder shrug, “He worked in the fields the whole morning the way my grandmother told the story. Then shortly after lunch he just collapsed and died in a matter of hours.”
“In the fields—at what time of year?” Shen leans forward.
“Harvest season—late summer.”
“Was it a hot day?”
“Very, my mother complained about how much water she had to carry over.”
“Heatstroke!” both doctors look at each other.
“Ähm, that means?”
“This means Mr. O’Connell; you don’t have a family history of heart issues before the age of 35. You family line had just a chain of unfortunate but unconnected deaths,” Shen explains calmly.
“Since your EKG was borderline though, we recommend a follow-up with cardiology in the next couple days. But it may very well have been stress-related,” Langdon advises.
“Pff, a series of unfortunate deaths—and I thought I was doomed. Thank you doctors.”
“You are very welcome Mr. O’Connell.”
Outside both doctors shake their heads at each other.
“That’s one unlucky family,” Langdon offers.
“Yeah, no wonder the poor guy was terrified, he’d be next.”
2:00 am
“The labs on Mrs. Hargreeve are back, Langdon,” King calls out to him.
“And did her daughter poison her?” he wants to know.
“Well, assuming she didn’t take SSRI and antihistamine on her own, then yes.”
“Thank God, the daughter was at least smart enough to choose something relatively harmless,” Langdon seems relieved.
“The mother’s BP and heartrate are still elevated. Maybe from the meds or it could be the shock,” King replies.
“Then get her admitted for observation,” he orders.
3:00 am
Lena addresses Langdon again, “Dr. Langdon, I’ve got another for your collection. I little boy in Behavioural Health 1 got himself an invisible friend.”
“Pft,” Langdon sighs. “Dr. King—any chance you want in on that?”
She is already getting to her feet, “I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”
After softly knocking on the door King steps into the room with Langdon.
“Hello Noah, I’m Frank and this is Mel. We are here to help you,” Langdon starts.
“I wanna go home!” the boy whines.
“We understand you, Noah. But we have to know what is going on with your friend first,” Mel replies calmly.
“My friend is fine!”
“That’s okay. Can you tell me who this friend is?”
“He is my mirror.”
Mel smiles, “What do you mean by mirror, Noah?”
“He looks exactly like I do... When I look into the bathroom mirror.”
She draws back a little.
“Does he have siblings?” Langdon looks at the parents.
The mother shakes her head, “No. He does not have siblings.”
“Please, find out what this is,” the father pleads. “He talks to this new friend all the time now and barely to anyone else.”
“When did this start?” Langdon wants to know.
“Only this week—but it got worse fast.”
“Noah, when did first talk to your friend?” Mel checks.
“Thursday night...I couldn’t sleep. I was scared. But mom gets angry when I turn the light on.”
Langdon nods, “So, four days give or take. That’s too long for a poisoning, especially without any other symptoms.”
“And it got worse over time not better,” King adds. She turns to the parents, “Would you talk to our social worker Kiara? It may help us find out, if there were any recent events that would explain this.”
“If it helps, fine,” both nod.
While the parents talk to Kiara in the family room, Langdon and Mel return to Noah.
Mel sits down on the bed besides Noah.
“Hello again, Noah. Did anything strange happen on the day that you couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Okay, did you do something on this day that you were not supposed to?”
“Kinda.”
She smiles, “That’s okay, will you tell me about it please?”
“I played soccer in the garage and the ball knocked a box of the shelf.”
“And what did you do then?”
“I put everything back in the box and put it back.”
Mel nods, “And what was in the box, Noah.”
“Pictures of mom and dad and me...and...and...,” he falls silent.
“Pictures of you, your parents and who else, Noah?” Langdon lowers himself to the boy’s eyelevel.
“Another boy...a boy...who looked just like me. But that can’t be. Mom always says I have no brother or sister.”
Closing her eyes, Mel takes a breath and swallows, “Thank you Noah. We’ll go talk to your parents now.”
A few steps down the hall Mel turns to Langdon, “How could they? How could they just erase the memory of a twin brother from his life?”
Langdon lays a hand on her shoulder, “Grief. It was probably easier for them to deal with this way. The whole family is gonna need therapy.”
4:00 am
“Dr. Langdon,” Lena calls from the hub, as Langdon tries to skirt by.
“Yes?”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, dear. I’ve just got another one from our favourite party for you.”
He runs a hand through his hair, “Where?”
“Central 6.”
“On it.”
5:00 am
After a conference with the parents in the family room Noah gets admitted to Psych for further treatment.
6:00 am
“Ugh. I’m so ready for this night to be over,” Langdon yawns.
“I thought full moon nights were nothing special?” Shen teases.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it, I was wrong about that.” He turns to Lena, “What’s the official count?”
“The total count is six crazies my dears. The Ouija girl, the Shaman, the curse paralysis, the poison belief, the family-heart fear and the invisible twin,” she counts them off on her fingers.
Mel checks her tablet for the status of her cases.
“Just a regular full moon night then,” Abbot remarks. “And it will stay this way, as long as people believe.”
“Believe in what?” Mel asks.
“In superstition, karma or simple misunderstandings. Many people take their feelings for their reality, without questioning why they are feeling a certain way.”
“Humanity is one crazy bunch,” Ellis adds.
“And that’ll keep all of us busy every other night,” Abbot closes.
Credits:
Line-dividers by @cursed-carmine
And a special THANK YOU to Kat @thatfanficstuff for keeping up my motivation over the last two weeks!
January is the worst month for me. It’s cold, the holidays are over, and then there are the resolutions… On top of that, my birthday is on January 24th.
So this year, I decided to do something for myself—and for this poor January. I wanted to add some warmth and make a resolution that is as fun as it is useful: writing myself a birthday countdown story calendar in English.
I call this story collection Warmanjuary (Stoking the Fire).
All fics are one-shots that I had fun writing. They are meant to warm me from the inside out. If you need some warmth too, feel free to take your pick:
🔥 Smut
🤍 Fluff
🌩️ Stormy / heavy / emotionally intense
🖤 Dark
😂 Humor
☕ Slice of Life
🔍 Character Study
All angst has a happy ending.
If there is no mention of a reader, there is no reader insert.
If you're looking for a recomendation:⭐= Author favorite
Day #1🔥🌩️Lonely Night
Jay Halstead x GN!reader (MDNI)
The undercover was a success. As was his restraint. Jay Halstead, undercover in a bar, goes home with the mark arrested — and the memory of exactly what he didn’t get to touch.
Day #1 - SFW Mirror 😂 🤍A Little Dangerous
Jay Halstead, Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz, fem!reader
You watch Jay. Jay watches his mark and you. And Mouse? Always watches everyone
Day #2 😂☕Glorious
Gloria, Dana Evans & the usual suspects
Gloria expects efficiency, obedience, and results. What she gets is cold air, cactus deliveries, and an alarming amount of forms.
Day #3🔥 Last Round
Dean Winchester x m!reader (MDNI)
What starts as a joke over whiskey turns into a test of endurance, pride, and who actually calls the shots when the bar closes.
Day #3 - SFW Mirror☕🔍Deadly Dreams
Sam & Dean Winchester
As the investigation in Sleepy Eye drags on, Dean begins to notice what Sam won’t admit: exhaustion without cause, dreams that linger too long, and something in the night that knows exactly when to let go.
To get answers, they’ll have to stop avoiding the danger—and invite it closer.
Day #4🔍🌩️Angles of confilct Part One of 2
Derek Morgan x GN!reader (character study)
You challenge Derek Morgan’s methods on the mat—and force him to answer with everything he knows. Respect is earned, not given.
Day #5🤍☕Closing the Distance Part Two of 2
Derek Morgan x GN!reader
A long day at Quantico ends not with escalation, but with honesty — shared tea, an earned kiss, and the quiet decision to slow down instead of rushing forward.
Day #6🔥😂Down for You (MDNI)
Greg Gerwitz (Mouse) x fem!reader
Night shifts suck — especially when the 911 system goes down but the city keeps moving. On your break, you find Mouse right where he’s needed… and exactly where you need him.
Day #6 - SFW Mirror🔍🌩️Streched Thin
Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x fem!reader, Jay Halstead
A coordinated cyberattack disrupts 911 dispatch, forcing the district into manual operations and stretching resources thin. While Mouse works to trace the breach, Jay manages escalating field chaos. As patterns emerge, the team moves to contain the threat before a targeted distraction turns into something bigger.
Day #7 😂☕German Breakfast
Firehouse 51 crew x GN!Reader
A German firefighter brings a “German breakfast” to Firehouse 51, triggering confusion, complaints, and a quietly satisfying reveal over shared food.
Day #8🔥🔍Overruled (MDNI)
Dr. Robert Chase x male oc; Dr. Gregory House
When House refuses to respect a day off, someone else does. A quiet Sunday of enforced rest turns into chosen intimacy—earned boundaries, steady hands, and Dr. Robert Chase finally allowed to stop.
Day #9☕🔍Stay for Tea
Aziraphale x Crowley
A small, contained moment: Crowley arrives after closing, Aziraphale puts the kettle on, and shared space is offered without pressure. The story ends where it becomes comfortable.
Day #10 ☕🔍 Mandatory (MDNI)
Mature themes due to institutional pressure and mental health context; no sex or violence.
Dr. Robby x fem!reader; Dana Evans
After a public incident, hospital protocol takes over.
A scheduled meeting, clear boundaries, and institutional safeguards put structure around a situation that can’t be ignored.
Day #10 - SFW Mirror ☕🔍 Cap holds the Floor
Dr. Robby x gn!med studend reader
A fourth-year med student shadows Dr. Robby through a brutal ED shift—heat strokes, a mass food poisoning, and a cardiac arrest. Amid the chaos, the student begins to notice something: Cap isn’t just running the floor—he’s running a system to keep himself steady.
Day #11🤍😂Found Trouble ⭐
Hank Voight
A quiet night in West Garfield Park turns unexpectedly kind when Sergeant Voight intervenes — not just to stop trouble, but to find it. A short, warm procedural vignette about authority, invisibility, and a dog who knows when to bark.
Day #12🔍🖤The Challange
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
He looks guilty. The evidence points his way. But a defense attorney who doesn’t bluff takes on the BAU—and the truth turns out to be quieter, and worse.
Bonus Day #12 🔍☕Whiskey Neat
Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
A drink at the hotel bar turns into a debate about justice, compromise, and what it costs to win. Attraction is easy. Reconciling your beliefs with his is not.
Day #13🤍☕Behave
Matt Casey x fem!reader
One drink. One word. One choice. A quiet bar, a line she won’t cross again, and a man who knows how to behave.
Day #14😂🔍Cat & Mouse
Penelope Garcia x Greg (Mouse) Gerwitz
A game of nicknames, networks, and one very literal mouse.
Day #15 🔥While Sam Sleeps (MDNI)
Sam Winchester x m!monster
In dreams, Sam lets himself rest.
In dreams, something else learns how he thinks.
He allows it—once more—before he decides to hunt.
Day #15 - SFW Mirror☕🔍The Dream Lord
Sam & Dean Winchester
The answers are finally within reach.
Tracing the case back to its source leads Sam and Dean to a ritual meant to guard sleep—and a creature that never learned when to let go. Confronting the Dream Lord means redefining its rules, reckoning with consent, and fixing what was broken without turning rest into a weapon.
Day #16☕😂Disarming Serpent ⭐
Crowley, Aziraphale, fem!reader
A late-night visit to a certain Soho bookshop.
A frustrated witch, a dangerous idea, and a better one.
Sometimes the world isn’t fixed by force—but by thinking sideways.
Day #17🔥Expectations (MDNI)
Dr. Jack Abbot x GN!reader
A public ask, a quiet yes, and a few deliberate hours between two professionals who know where the lines are.
Day #17 - SFW Mirror☕🤍Professional Performance
Dr. Jack Abbot x GN!reader
Valentine’s Day. Night shift. A carjacking case. You and Jack Abbot went home together this afternoon. Now you have to work together — and decide what that means.
Day #18😂☕Who gets her?
Kelly Severide x Leslie Shay (platonic)
A little flirting, a lot of teasing, and absolutely no one “wins.”
Day #19🔍🌩️ Defining Terms
Dr. James Wilson x fem!oc (x2)
A quiet House M.D. character study about choice, limits, and who gets to define “hope” when the odds are low.
Day #20☕ Game Night
Jay Halstead x Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz; fem!OC
A long shift, an unplanned interruption, and a night that settles into quiet instead of noise.
Jay and Mouse, watching hockey, sharing space, and being exactly what the other needs—no more, no less.
Day #21😂☕Cold Calling
Corwley, fem!oc, male!oc
A life insurance cold call reaches the wrong Mr. Crowley — and a perfectly normal call center learns just how far procedure can bend before it breaks.
Day #22☕🔍Quiet Danger
Sam & Dean Winchester
A routine investigation in Sleepy Eye, Minnesota turns up nothing but exhaustion, closed doors, and a death no one can quite explain. Some threats don’t announce themselves—they let you rest.
Day #23☕🤍After the Shift
Matt Casey & Kelly Severide
A long night, too many hours on their feet, and nowhere left to pretend.
At Molly’s, exhaustion softens old lines between friends. What follows isn’t reckless or rushed—just two men choosing comfort, care, and honesty when the shift finally ends.
Final Day #24
☕🌩️😂 What We Believe ⭐
Jack Abbot, Melissa King, Frank Langdon, John Shen, Parker Ellis, Lena Handzo, Bridget Young, supporting oc!nurses
Night shift. Full board. Everyone is certain they know what’s wrong.
A girl afraid of a prophecy.
A mother convinced she’s been poisoned.
A man certain his heart is next.
A child talking to someone no one else can see.
While the ED fills, a bet is made, quietly lost, and forgotten — because some nights aren’t about being right.
They’re about what we believe, and who we trust to hold the line until morning.
Close to midnight the shop was finally open. You had observed it since the morning, waiting for the sign to flip. It was well known that the “owner” kept the opening hours obscured. Still, you’d hoped for a little more luck. But luck was not on your side. And that was the least of your problems. Well, you were here to change that. Quietly humming along to the beat of “The devil within” by Digital Daggers from your headphones, you entered.
Nodding at the man behind the counter, you stepped directly toward the nearest shelf. His presence had felt somewhat heavy to you. But you weren’t here for him. There had to be something about transformation magic in here. So, you went through book after book then moved on to the next shelf. The entire time you felt him watching you. It was disturbing. You rolled your shoulders and glanced toward the staircase. Maybe you’d have better chances upstairs.
When you headed over, he stepped in your path. With an annoyed look, you paused the music and pushed the headphones down.
“Yes?” you asked sharply, both of your hands making the universal “What do you want?” gesture.
“Good evening, my dear. Are you looking for anything in particular?” He looked honestly concerned.
“Transformation magic,” you replied. He might as well make himself useful.
“And what you are trying to transform?” he asked, while slightly elevating his eyebrows.
“Knives,” you hissed, irritated.
“Knives. Hm, what do you want them to turn into?”
“Why would you need to know that? You sell books. I need a book. So go, find it,” you snapped at him. It made your stomach turn, but your patience had run out.
“My dear please, I promise I am only trying to help you. The kind of enchantment you are aiming for is a rather complicated and delicate task.” His voice didn’t raise a single notch; it got softer instead. “Let us take a seat and see if we can find a less difficult path to your goal.” He pointed towards the plush, heavy chairs in a corner.
“Oh, to Hell with it! Fine.” You stomped over to the chairs and dropped into one of them.
The shopkeeper sat down in the other seat. Before he could say something, a man came down the staircase. You blinked and angled your head. There was something there. Somehow, he reminded you of Henry—your Boa constrictor—impossible.
“Aziraphale, what did you do now?” the newcomer leaned against Aziraphale’s armchair.
“Crowley, I am trying to help here!” he replied offended. “We are going to find a solution for this witch’s problem.”
“And that problem is?”
“Everybody my age and some even younger carrying a knife around. And they are using them too! This has to be stopped!” you threw at them, slapping your hands down on the armrests.
“I see. And you were going to solve this by transforming the knives into...?”
“Snakes,” you supplied. Correcting yourself, “Well they prefer serpent—especially the big ones.” You ended up looking at the man named Crowley.
“Very true,” he stated, “But what happens then—with them?”
That was a good question. One you had no answer to. Cause animals getting hurt on your behalf was unacceptable to you.
“Witch?”, Aziraphale addressed you gently. “Have you thought about using an illusion for this?”
You froze. An illusion? Illusions were simple—relatively speaking. And nobody was going to get hurt—serpents or humans.
“That sounds picture perfect,” you perked up. “So, every time someone grabs a knife, they see a serpent in its place.”
“You want all restaurants to close?” Crowley drawled. “You know, they use knives rather often.”
“Ähm,...” you stammered.
“Certainly, no one here wants that!” Aziraphale cut in. “There is a simple solution. Bind the spell to the intent, with which people are holding a knife.”
“That’s it! Only humans, who want to hurt someone will see serpents.” You were bouncing with excitement, which made your seat squeak.
“And what kind of serpent will they see? A poisonous one or a harmless one? Big or small?” Crowley fired questions at you.
“Corn snakes, they are harmless, small and common enough to cause shock but no panic.” You reasoned—more to yourself than to them.
Smirking at Aziraphale, Crowley commented, “Oh, the irony of serpents disarming humans.”
Aziraphale shot him an indignant look and got up.
“Let me get you the right book then.” He went behind the counter.
You angled your head again and decided it was worth a try.
Addressing Crowley, “On the topic of serpents: Why do you remind of my Boa constrictor—Henry?”
He smiled at you and said: “That’s not for you to know.”
So, you went over to Aziraphale to collect your book and pay. You swallowed. “Thank you, Aziraphale. For your time and your patience—you’re an angel.” You went to hug him.
He took a quick step back, holding up his hands, “That’s quite all right my dear. It was a pleasure. Have a wonderful day.”
“You too.” You waved at him and left the bookshop. You put your headphones back on and chose to “Power” from Songs of Legion from your playlist. The song now matching your mood.
Warnings: references to past sexual harassment (discussed, not depicted)
If ANYBODY asked her to be a good girl and do one more thing...She would scream and kick that somebody where it hurt. She had been a good girl all her fucking LIFE! And look what it gotten her: A Lieutenant who molested her, a Chief that didn’t believe her, a father who told her: “You can’t always expect a man t to behave himself.” Add eight months without sex to that and it was no wonder she was frustrated. There was nothing she could do about the dicks in her life. But she sure would be doing something about sleeping alone later tonight. That was if she managed to find a guy, who know how to behave himself.
Leslie Shay shuts the car door and you head inside the warm bar. Given the temperature you opted for ankle boots, a tight Jeans and a leather jacket over her burgundy top. The invite to be wing women for the night had been a surprise. But Shay’s best friend was not available, and given that Shay was into women, you wouldn’t get in each others way. After choosing a booth along the wall, the other EMT went to get drinks. She came back with them and company, Lieutenant Casey. Oh, what game was Shay playing here?
“Hey, look who I found at the bar. You know Matt, right?”
“Ähm, yes sure, Leslie...”
“Great than I can leave you with him and go flirt with the sexy brunette over there.”
And just like that Shay was gone and you found yourself across from Matt Casey. How was definitely a very handsome man, wearing a button-down the same colour as your top. But he was also a Lieutenant. Recently those hadn’t worked out too good for you. Did Leslie know what she was doing?
With a soft laugh and a headshake Casey says, “She told me she just wanted me to come over and say: Hi to you.”
You have to return his smile. Actually, that smile should come with a warning label and require a permit. “Hi, Casey,” you wave at him.
“Uh, since I’m already here, may keep you company?”
“Sure, please take a seat,” you nod.
Matt stuck to bier, while you switched to coke after finishing the first bier. When it came to alcohol and driving, you’d be rather safe then sorry. To your slight bewilderment you enjoy talking to Matt. He was genuinely listening and asking intelligent questions. Between that and his sense of humour you found yourself relaxing. You both stretch your legs out under the table. When you gently press the outside of your ankle against the inside of Matt’s, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he places his hand in the middle of the table palm up. Grinning at him you put your hand in his.
When you grin at Matt, you see Larson coming your way. You go stiff and still.
“So, you’re into Lieutenants after all, hm?”, Lieutenant Larson sneered at you.
“I’m into men who know how to behave themselves and respect women. So, YOU don’t qualify.”
“Just because I got I little pushy. Come on, give me a break!”
“A little pushy? You molested me! You can count yourself lucky, if I don’t report you.”
“The Chief is not gonna believe you.”
“The Chief isn’t the only one who decides that. Besides, you wanna bet your career on people believing you over me?”
“I’m friends with your father!”, he yells.
“So, now you wanna hide behind my daddy?”, you burst out laughing.
“I think you had too much to drink tonight, Larson. Might wanna leave her alone now. Discuss your behaviour next shift with clear heads,” Matt cuts in.
Larson freezes, blinks, opens his mouth to say something more and thinks the better of it. He shakes his head and goes to the bar.
Turning to you Matt asks, “Wanna get out of here?”
You hadn’t realized Larson was here. Now that you knew, you rather not stay in his orbit. And you definitely didn’t want your night with Matt to end. He held the promise to be—what you had come looking for—a man who made you wanna be a good girl for him. So, you say, “Yeah, lets continue this at my place. My car is in the lot.”
“Oh, that’s why you stuck to coke after the first bier. Sure, lead the way.”
When you stop to unlock your car, Matt places a hand on your lower back. As you swung around to him, he gathers you close, lays a hand under your jaw and looks into your eyes. With your hand on his chest, you smile up and he kisses you—soft but charged. Then you got into the car. On the drive to your place, he takes your cold hand into his warm ones, when he notices you tucking it between your thighs.
At your building you led the way, while he follows close behind, with a hand on your back. You both shed your jackets and shoes in the entryway. Which made your small one-bedroom apartment sound larger than it is. You basically stood in the combined kitchenette/living room. Only a few feet from the closed bedroom door.
“You wanna talk about what went down with Larson?”, Matt asks.
“No, thanks. I’ll rather enjoy tonight with you,” you reply and snuggle into him.
“Sounds like a plan,” he says and closes his arms around you. The hand in your neck encourages you to tilt your head up. As you do, he leans down and kisses you. This time he maps your lips with his own. His tongue traces your upper lip and you open your mouth to suck it in. Matt moans as your hands on his hips untuck his button-down and slip under it.
He traces kisses over your cheek to your ear and down your neck. When he reaches the point that makes you shudder, he stays—kissing, licking and sucking until your weak in the knees.
“Ah, Matt... please,” is all you can get out.
He stops and looks at you, “Yes?”
“You make my legs give up. Let’s move this to the bedroom?”
“Come on then,” he smirks and picks you up.
Unused to a guy lifting you up so easy, it takes you a second to warp your legs around him. But then you laugh and lean in for another kiss. Yes, this was definitely gonna be a fun night!
Pairing / Character(s): Aaron Hotchner, original female character
Reader: no reader insert
Rating: Mature
Tone: Procedural / Character Study
➤ Part of the Warmanjuary January fic action
➤ Theme: Stoking the fire (warming up January)
➤ Full masterlist
Warnings: image-based sexual abuse (non-consensual sharing of intimate images), references to murder, coercive interrogation pressure, legal and investigative themes
11th of January, 2:23 pm
A man knocks on an office door. He is an average guy—ordinary face, about 5’2. His work clothes are cheap polyester. They consist of black pants with a blue T-shirt and a baseball cap reading: “Rick’s mobiles”.
“Yes.”
He opens the door and steps into the small office. The room is dominated by a large picture of a winter landscape with mountains and a lake. All furniture is dark wood and practical rather than stylish.
The woman in the pantsuit behind the desk looks at the man, “How may I help you?”
“You’re a defense attorney, right?”
“That is correct. Do you require my services, Mr. ...?”
“Porter. I feel like I do. The FBI showed up at my work today. Asked everyone questions. Made my boss real unhappy, when they said someone at our shop had posted nudes of clients.” He takes a breath and adds. “And that some of them are dead now, killed.”
She folds her hands on the desk, “So, you want me to assess the situation for you, or...?”
“I need you to explain to these FBI guys that I didn’t kill anyone. I never saw those women again after they left the shop,” he states nervously.
“Well, I can evaluate with you: What the FBI can legally do in this case. If you are a suspect. And if so, what options you have going forward,” she says, counting the points off with her fingers.
“First, we need to agree on an hourly rate, you sign a retainer and pay a deposit,” with this the Counselor reaches in to the desk drawer.
12th of January, 9:15 am
“I am here on behalf of my client: Mr. Porter,” the defense attorney hands her business card to the officer manning the counter at the precinct. She is carrying a black leather briefcase and wearing a loose-fitting pantsuit in dark grey.
“Yes, SSA Hotchner is expecting you, Counselor. Please follow me,” the officer says and leads the way to the interrogation room.
He stops in front of the half-open door to the observation room and knocks.
A tall man in a black suit with a white shirt and a burgundy tie steps forward.
The officer introduces the two, “Counselor this SSA Aaron Hotchner. SSA Hotchner this is Mr. Porter’s Counselor,” with that he leaves.
SSA Hotchner nods, “If you would follow me Counselor.” He walks to the door of the interrogation room, opens it and walks into the room.
She follows after him. As usual there is only a table with four chairs in the room. Mr. Porter sits in the one furthest from the door a glass of water in front of him. The defense attorney sits down beside her client.
The FBI Agent takes the seat closest to the door, opposite her. The door is closed by someone outside.
“Mr. Porter, your counsel is now present, let’s try this again. Where were you on the night of January 10th from 10:00 pm to 11:42 pm?”
Porter looks to his attorney—she gives a short nod; hands folded on the table. “I was at home—alone—sleeping.”
“And the night of December 10th last year between 9:00 pm and midnight?”
“I don’t recall. That was over a month ago.”
“You’re sure about that?” the Agent presses.
“He already answered your question SSA Hotchner,” the Counselor cuts in, voice flat.
“What about the night of October 21st between 8:30 pm and 11:00 pm—do you recall your whereabouts for that night?”
“No, I do not.”
“So, for all three nights where a woman was murdered you have no alibi. And you posted their nudes before they were killed. To expose and humiliate them. It is all part of your buildup.”
Porter opens his mouth.
But it is his attorney, who states, “My client being unable to present an alibi, does not prove his involvement with these murders.”
“Not necessarily, but the upload of the nudes strongly suggests it. This is consistent with typical criminal behaviour in such cases,” SSA Hotchner replies.
“Just because it is typical, does not mean it applies here. Can you even prove that it was Mr. Porter, who posted these images?”
“Yes, we can. All uploads were done during his shifts, using his credentials. On two occasions no other employees were in the shop,” the agent leans forward at the second sentence, looking straight at Porter.
Porter sighs. His Counsel has barely moved during the exchange. Her voice remaining flat; her hands still folded on the table.
“So, the state police are arresting my client on image-based sexual abuse, only?”
“Yes, that’s correct. And in the meantime, we will work on proving that your client is responsible for the murders,” SSA Hotchner nods.
“We will see each other at the bail hearing then. As for proving Mr. Porter guilty of murder, that’s not going to happen.”
“Bail hearing?”, Porter looks nervous.
“Yes, there will be a bail hearing—as soon as the prosecutor presses charges. Without pressing charges, they could only detain you for 48 hours,” she explains and stands up. She shoots SSA Hotchner a look, “I would like to speak with my client in private now.”
The agent leaves the interrogation room. She turns to her client, “Why did you upload those pictures?”
“For the money,” he shrugs his shoulder. “It’s not like I hurt anyone with in. They’re just photos.”
“Mr. Porter, those were not JUST photos. Those were nudes. You were selling these women out. Showing to the world what they only show their partners. And that is a crime in this state.” her hands remain folded, but her lips are pressed together.
“So, what now? You’re dropping me as a client?”
“Personally, I would love to. But I can not afford it professionally. I have to see you through this or getting new clients will be way more difficult,” she takes a deep breath. “So, I need to know exactly how you got the files. Did someone else have access to them?”
“A... friend help me get them of the phones,” he admits.
His attorney nods, “Well then you are aware, that this friend killed those women? And has set you up to take the fall for his murders?”
“How?”
“Because he knew you were posting the photos. He could count on law enforcement coming after you, since he did not have any visible connection to these women.”
“Damn. So, what now?”
“Now, we set you up for the best possible outcome. First you will write down a confession, include the names of all women and all sites. Then you will help the FBI to catch your “friend”,” she explains.
SSA Hotchner meets the Counselor in the observation room, “You wanted to talk to me?”
She nods, “I have a proposal for you. My client will confess to the image-based sexual abuse in fully. Then he will make a phone call to the killer, pressuring him to betray himself.”
“You’re saying your client is innocent. But he knows who the unsub is?”
“My client is innocent of murder. And he knows who else had access to the files.”
“We’ll see. I will talk to the prosecutor about your proposal. Let’s meet back here in two hours.”
12th of January, 12:25 pm
The Counselor returns to the interrogation room with a take-out bag beside her briefcase. SSA Hotchner is waiting for her.
“I am surprised you talked your client into giving his partner up.”
She puts the food out, responding, “He is not the killer, nor was he complicit. So, giving up the man—who set him up as a fall guy—is his best remaining choice.”
Porter is escorted into the room. He looks at the food, then at his counsel.
“Go ahead and eat. I’ll go over your confession with SSA Hotchner,” with that she hands the Agent a sack of papers.
He reads them through, “So, Porter gave Miller access to the phones. Miller extracted the files and handed copies of them to Porter. Who posted them.”
“Correct. Miller still had the original files with the metadata, including timestamps and GPS data. With these Miller located the women,” the attorney explains.
“If that is true and your client can get Miller on the phone; I will make a recommendation to the prosecutor.”
She turns, to her client, “The FBI will set everything up for the call. You will do what they tell you—just as we discussed.”
13th of January, 5:11 pm
Hotch and the Counselor stand together in the observation room, looking at Miller.
“All that damage, and he turns out to be a coward,” the attorney says.
“Serial killers are seldom what people expect them to be. Without you our job would’ve been more difficult,” Hotch acknowledges.
“So, you’re inviting me to a drink as a thank you?”
