Tuesdays: AUs
Hi, beth_soprano again!
Today's theme is AU! What ifs, genderswaps, alternate universes, anything goes!
Rules:
You can leave up to five prompts, with no more than three prompts per fandom. If your prompt is filled, you can leave another prompt.
No spoilers in your prompts until a week after the original material has been released. If your fic contains ( Read more... )
Today's theme is AU! What ifs, genderswaps, alternate universes, anything goes!
Rules:
You can leave up to five prompts, with no more than three prompts per fandom. If your prompt is filled, you can leave another prompt.
No spoilers in your prompts until a week after the original material has been released. If your fic contains ( Read more... )
Seeing the way the black light glows off of her makeup and the myriad baubles hanging down from her teased hair, he's thinking she's a goddess for a new generation. He's just here to observe, file some personal information away for a day when they need it on her, and he’s cataloged all the faces coming and going from her table tonight. She's been a tough case for the Bureau; their computer technicians and analysts just don't have anything near the experience she does and she always seems to be at least three steps ahead of a trace.
They don't know who she is, where she works from, or what her ultimate plan is, but she's already hacked three government agencies and two banks this week alone and they need to get a handle on her, fast.
The first big break they've caught is when Lynch, the analyst most recently assigned to their unit, had run across some information about her favorite meeting place in the DC area. Morgan himself isn't sure exactly how these guys get their information, but if the woman across the room from him is who they think she is, it doesn't matter. They have a don't ask, don't tell policy about interoffice hacking for a reason.
His position at the bar gives him a good mirror-image view of the room behind him: long, wide dance floor, tables along the wall, two exits and a hallway leading to the bathrooms (make that three exits, then, he thinks). Neon lights and black lights and mirrored disco balls cast strange colors and shapes over everything and the air is a little smoky. The place is somehow sweaty and clean at the same time; not your typical rave club, he acknowledges. The music thumping overhead has a trance-like beat and he can actually see some of the empty glasses on the bar rattling in time with the bass.
It's not his sort of club, but he's getting into it.
He thinks maybe that's why he sends the drink over to the table where she's holding court over three scraggly guys and a girl who can't be old enough to drink yet. She's been playing with an olive on a toothpick and gesturing grandly, sparking laughter and some obvious adoration from her admirers - and yeah, he's getting into it. He's here for information gathering, and hell if he doesn't think - no, know - he can get under her skin if he wants to.
He has a reputation at the BAU as a ladies’ man for a reason.
Rest here:
http://alicat713.livejournal.com/124525.html?#cutid2
(Hope you enjoy!)
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