━━━ ❝ ❨ 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒋𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒅. ❩ ❞
Their story was never meant to be a happy one. In fact, the...
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CHAPTER 1: ENUCLEATOR (5x6: the eyes have it)
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SHE WAS STANDING IN FRONT of the mirrored wardrobe in her bedroom, observing her reflection. Her red hair, nice makeup, the black dress and matching high heels, the silver 'good luck' ring etched with poker cards on her right middle finger. She looked like someone ready for a funeral—her own, probably. Despite staying up late to review the digital catalog in her mind and analyze her bosses' behavior, she felt like a complete failure. She wasn't used to this feeling. She knew her usual results, and this one seemed utterly dreadful.
She bit her lip, giving herself one last glance before turning away from the mirror and walking back into the living room. She would make it work somehow. She always did. And those times had been under far more life-threatening circumstances. This was just an office job. Well, not entirely, because they would travel around the country to catch serial killers. But still, it was worlds away from the run-down apartment in El Paso, where she had crouched for months to complete her last mission.
With these lighthearted thoughts in mind, Bess slid into her fire-red Boss 429 Mustang parked in the garage of the towering building that housed her penthouse. Despite being an old-timer—it had rolled off the production line back in 1969, costing her father a small fortune—it still ran better than any car she'd ever driven. Like Tony Sinclair before passing it down to his daughter, Bess made sure to take good care of it. If she loved anything in this world, it was this car. She would sooner die than trade it for another.
The drive to Quantico was quicker than anticipated, she rolled into the underground garage and chose a spot beside a sleek black Cadillac. The engine's hum was replaced with the tapping of her heels echoing in the concrete cave as she headed to the elevators. She didn't have to search for them, the exact layout of the place had been given to her previously, among everything else. A knowledge that could raise suspicion if she wasn't careful.
As soon as the elevator doors slid open on the sixth floor, she stepped into the brightly lit hallway. The bullpen was straight ahead, and she didn't hesitate to move forward once she spotted the blonde woman sitting inside at a table with a black man. Section Chief Erin Strauss and Derek Morgan. It appeared they had spared her a journey down the corridor to the woman's office.
Bess reached into the black sports bag hanging on her shoulder, pulling out a carefully folded letter with the official seal of the FBI embossed on its corner. Signed by the director himself, this letter was her all-access pass. It held the weight to open every door and silence every question, though she knew they would ask some anyway. She entered the bullpen and walked up to the pair sitting at the table by the kitchen. "Section Chief Erin Strauss?" Bess asked, staring down at the woman.
"Yes?" Her brows furrowed as she looked the redhead over, and Bess handed her the letter without another word. She took it away under the watchful eyes of the BAU team—Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, and Dr Spencer Reid were in the bullpen too, following Strauss and Morgan's conversation from their cubicles. Once she read the letter, Strauss looked up, stating, "I wasn't notified about this."
