Status: Working on it
Soul Meets Soul on Lover's Lips
Lets say goodbye, the hundredth time and then tomorrow we'll do it again
Katie woke up a bit later than usual, which forced her to scramble hastily around to get to work on time. She threw on a black long-sleeved button up shirt, and an old pair of black jeans.
She nearly ran out of the door without her trusty black combat boots on, but realized before she did. It was looking rather gloomy outside, so she grabbed her dad's old black leather jacket from the back of her sofa.
She quickly jogged down two flights of stairs, her raven hair in a tousled mess and no dark red lipstick on her plum full lips, that was most definitely a change.
When she arrived at Quantico, she quickly pressed the elevator button, preparing for the sudden jolt.
After the elevator doors separated she walked straight to her desk.
''DAYUM Kat!'' Garcia emerged from her dark little hole. ''Lookin' sexy!'' She winked, walking up to Hotchner's office.
Katie rose a single, dark eyebrow. How could she possibly be sexy? Especially right now. She didn't exactly see herself this morning but still never thought she was pretty at all. She once said she had the sex appeal of a chair.
She shrugged dismissively and took a seat on her Grey office chair, biting her lip as she stared at her paperwork.
''Tryin' to seduce me Vinson?'' A masculine, silky voice called, she looked up through her long, dark lashes.
''What?'' She laughed at her fellow FBI agent Derek Morgan. He rose his eyebrows playfully, pointing to her chest. She looked down self consciously, realizing four buttons were undone. She blushed madly, quickly buttoning three of the four.
He took his seat, a smile etched on his bronze features.
She ran a hand through her wavy long hair, dreading the paperwork that lay on her desk.
''JJ pleaase tell me we have a case!'' Morgan begged of the blond as she walked briskly past. ''Afraid so.'' She answered. ''Meet in the conference room?''
Morgan shot up, pulling Katie up with him.
''Where's Spenc?!'' She whined, Morgan rolling his eyes playfully. ''Coffee. Reid! Conference room!'' He shouted in the direction of the coffee machines.
When they sat down around the table, Spencer quickly stumbled in, coffee in hand. He took an empty seat by Katie, trying desperately not to stare.
She shoved up her left sleeve as Hotch began, not forgetting to cast a warm smile in Reid's direction.
''All of our victims are male. 35-40, Caucasian and an alcoholic. Timothy Rogers. A 38 year old pharmacist. He was last seen at a bar west of Manchester. He sustained major beating and torturing before finally he bleed out.''
''Holden Newman: A 40 year old cashier, also an alcoholic. He also sustained a heavy beating, so severally it caused internal bleeding. He was dumped in a secluded wooded area north of Manchester New York.''
As Hotch and JJ continued with the brief meeting, Spencer's eyes couldn't resist looking in her direction. His eyes traced the tattoo on her left wrist. A black cat, it's tail sticking straight up, appearing to be on it's tippy toes. As if it were startled. The number 13 under its risen stomach.
Her skin was so pale against the small black cat. Her blood red nail polish catching his eye as Hotch began to close his folder.
''Okay!'' Hotch's voice slapped him back into reality. ''We meet on the Jet in 30'' And with that, they all rose, except for Reid.
''Hey, you coming?'' Katie asked, gently pushing in the chair she previously occupied. ''Oh! Yeah.'' He stood up, towering over her a few inches.
''Damn your tallness!'' She playfully glared, earning an adorable giggle from Reid.
She smiled wholeheartedly, looping her arm around his as they walked outside of the conference room door.
All the while the loud thumping in his chest going unnoticed by the clueless perpetrator.
She nearly ran out of the door without her trusty black combat boots on, but realized before she did. It was looking rather gloomy outside, so she grabbed her dad's old black leather jacket from the back of her sofa.
She quickly jogged down two flights of stairs, her raven hair in a tousled mess and no dark red lipstick on her plum full lips, that was most definitely a change.
When she arrived at Quantico, she quickly pressed the elevator button, preparing for the sudden jolt.
After the elevator doors separated she walked straight to her desk.
''DAYUM Kat!'' Garcia emerged from her dark little hole. ''Lookin' sexy!'' She winked, walking up to Hotchner's office.
Katie rose a single, dark eyebrow. How could she possibly be sexy? Especially right now. She didn't exactly see herself this morning but still never thought she was pretty at all. She once said she had the sex appeal of a chair.
She shrugged dismissively and took a seat on her Grey office chair, biting her lip as she stared at her paperwork.
''Tryin' to seduce me Vinson?'' A masculine, silky voice called, she looked up through her long, dark lashes.
''What?'' She laughed at her fellow FBI agent Derek Morgan. He rose his eyebrows playfully, pointing to her chest. She looked down self consciously, realizing four buttons were undone. She blushed madly, quickly buttoning three of the four.
He took his seat, a smile etched on his bronze features.
She ran a hand through her wavy long hair, dreading the paperwork that lay on her desk.
''JJ pleaase tell me we have a case!'' Morgan begged of the blond as she walked briskly past. ''Afraid so.'' She answered. ''Meet in the conference room?''
Morgan shot up, pulling Katie up with him.
''Where's Spenc?!'' She whined, Morgan rolling his eyes playfully. ''Coffee. Reid! Conference room!'' He shouted in the direction of the coffee machines.
When they sat down around the table, Spencer quickly stumbled in, coffee in hand. He took an empty seat by Katie, trying desperately not to stare.
She shoved up her left sleeve as Hotch began, not forgetting to cast a warm smile in Reid's direction.
''All of our victims are male. 35-40, Caucasian and an alcoholic. Timothy Rogers. A 38 year old pharmacist. He was last seen at a bar west of Manchester. He sustained major beating and torturing before finally he bleed out.''
''Holden Newman: A 40 year old cashier, also an alcoholic. He also sustained a heavy beating, so severally it caused internal bleeding. He was dumped in a secluded wooded area north of Manchester New York.''
As Hotch and JJ continued with the brief meeting, Spencer's eyes couldn't resist looking in her direction. His eyes traced the tattoo on her left wrist. A black cat, it's tail sticking straight up, appearing to be on it's tippy toes. As if it were startled. The number 13 under its risen stomach.
Her skin was so pale against the small black cat. Her blood red nail polish catching his eye as Hotch began to close his folder.
''Okay!'' Hotch's voice slapped him back into reality. ''We meet on the Jet in 30'' And with that, they all rose, except for Reid.
''Hey, you coming?'' Katie asked, gently pushing in the chair she previously occupied. ''Oh! Yeah.'' He stood up, towering over her a few inches.
''Damn your tallness!'' She playfully glared, earning an adorable giggle from Reid.
She smiled wholeheartedly, looping her arm around his as they walked outside of the conference room door.
All the while the loud thumping in his chest going unnoticed by the clueless perpetrator.