"to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed."
― Cassandra Clare
He was stirred awake by the bumpy descent of the plane. She had already woken up, changing into a pair of jeans and a sweater she must have stolen from his bag. She sat in the same seat, this time curled up with a book. He looked at the spine, wondering about the title. It was a book he had surprisingly never heard of.
"It's salvadorian. I don't know how to explain it." she said, not looking up from the pages.
"Wait, you speak more than english?"
"Oui, mon travail l'exige."
"Что-нибудь еще я должен знать? Как насчет русского?" Spencer asked
"Да, я говорю это, но мне это не нравится." she said.
"You should get dressed, we are gonna land soon." she continued, switching back to english.
"Ahh." Spencer walked to the back of the plane.
Manon smiled to herself. It wasn't often you found someone you could converse with in both french and russian. A chime from the tablet on her right woke her from her daydream. It was a file drop from Terrence, everything she needed for the hit. Surveillance photos, sheducales, receipts, everything an assassin needed. She stood up as the plane coasted down the small runway in New York, grappling with overhead storage. She made sure she always had a gun on her. Currently, in the back of her jeans was a small pistol. But she was getting out the big guns now. As she pulled it down her hands traced the black steel. It was beautiful, but the kind of beautiful that destroys you. As dangerous as it was, she loved it.
She loved the freedom it granted her. No one fucks with a girl with a gun.
She turned around to Spencer's shocked face as he muttered "Is that what you're using?"
"No. It's what you're using." she looked into his eyes, like a deer in the headlights he started to shake his head before she grasped his cheeks. "It's okay, chill out. I just want you to try it before you diss my job. I'll even give you a cut of the money."
"I-i-I can't! I can't shoot someone! I don't even have good aim!" he lied.
She took a step back crossing her arms, "Okay, I know that's a lie. I looked at your file, you have perfect aim."
"Fine, but I still can't shoot someone!"
"Yes you can, and you will. Or else I will release the footage from your little prison drug run." Manon sneered, she didn't care that it was toxic, or if it sent her to hell, we weren't angels either, and needed to be reminded of it.
"I- fine. But you have to promise to delete the footage after!"
"Only if you give me your honest feelings after you do this."
"Fine. Let's go." Spencer huffed.
*
Holy shit. I can't believe I'm about to do this. Spencer exhaled as he lined up the sight, making sure the bullet would hit just right.
The countless equations in his head were interrupted by Manon whispering aggressively in his ear, "Take the fucking shot Spencer." He was startled enough that a shot rang out in times square. People looked around hoping to see where it came from, so they could run away in the right direction.
"Hurry up! We have to go!" Manon said, her french accent slipping through the more upset she got with him.
That was before she noticed the sick, twisted smile on his face. He liked it! I knew it. She thought. "We have to go Spence!"
"Yeah yeah, let's go." Spencer stuttered, reaching to take apart the gun before he realized Manon had already done it, and was already halfway across the roof.
They ran down the steps, blending in with the crowd of terrified people in the square, ducking into a small alleyway they crossed between towering buildings to a new street. This one wasn't nearly as loud but was still buzzing with fear.
Thats when they heard the shots. Looking to each other with wild eyes, knowing one of two things were going down in the square.
Either the police were shooting at the wrong suspect...
Or someone was shooting at innocent people.
Spencer watched as she gifted the back of her sweater, pulling out a small pistol, similar to the one Hotch carried, and lifting it as ran back into the alley. He reached for his holster to follow her, stashing the bag with the rifle in a dumpster.
He followed her line of sight until he saw them too. Someone in all balck, with a ski mask on was shooting up the square, and behind them were two more. He quickly looked at the one standing the tallest, stripping his face of the black knitting.
Cocky, arrogant, dominating. He was the leader, he lined up his shoot, shooting the unsub in the chest, watching as he fell against the concrete. Flashing sirens and lights filled his peripheral as two more shots rang out, no doubt Manon shooting the others. Shit, they couldn't run away now, the cops were there.
*
"And who are you?" asked the cop, angling his gun at them.
"My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm an agent with the BAU, I am going to reach into my bag and get my badge for you. Is that okay?" He asked, Spencer knew what to do in these situations.
"Yes. Slowly." the cop replied.
Spencer slowly set his gun on the ground, looking up at Manon, silently pleading with her to do the same. When she bent down he stood back up reaching into his messenger bag. He set his badge on the ground and kicked it to the man's partner.
"He's telling the truth." said the partner, watching as the first cop lowered his gun.
"Then thank you, you were here faster than we were." He said, approaching the pair. "And who is this?"
Spencer opened his mouth to answer but Manon was already speaking.
"I'm Athena Black. I'm a friend of his from back in our academy days." She laughed. Leaning against his side.
Manon was unsurprisingly good at coming up with lies. If Spencer wasn't was good a profiler as he was he wouldn't be able to tell.
"Oh, okay. Well we are gonna have to go through a lot of paperwork. But first can we take your statements?"
"Of course. One moment though, I need to make a phone call. Boyfriend." she laughed. "Is that okay? He knows I was in time square and he'll be worried sick if I don't call."
The cop just shrugged and she walked a little ways away, out of earshot.
"Shame she's gotta man. Bet you wish that were you." chuckled the cop,
"You have no idea."
YOU ARE READING
Bitter
أدب الهواةIn which one Spencer Reid experiences limerence with a woman he barely knows, or so she thinks. Spencer Reid has been detached from the team since he and JJ were taken hostage by an unsub, and a bomb was dropped on their friendship. His obsession wi...
