This is Fate [FanFic]
Title: This is Fate
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Dexter/Reid, Dexter/Foyet, Reid/Lila, Foyet/Lila
Rating: FRT
Summary: "But it doesn't matter what I do, what I choose...This is fate." ~ Dexter Morgan, Dexter
Notes: Four short Criminal Minds/Dexter crossovers. The Lila in these are Lila Tournay from Season 2 of Dexter. No better summary than that quote, really, haha! Two were written for prompts from a comment fic I did, two others just popped in my head...be kind, my first attempts at crossing over these two shows, but I hope you enjoy them, haha! :D
Of all the gin joints in all the world the FBI has to walk into mine. Whole group of them too, those profilers just off the case that I couldn’t manipulate my way.
A tall, thin, one breaks away from the group and heads in my direction. He smiles in recognition. “The blood guy.”
“The blood guy,” I nod and smile back. “The profiler guy.”
“Uh…yeah. Well…uh…one of them anyway. Dr Spencer Reid.”
I shake the hand he offers me. “Dexter Morgan.” I almost turn back, away, but something compels me not to. This agent, this man, intrigues me…he’s the first to do so in a way that hasn’t stirred up my Dark Passenger. “You know you’re the first person I’ve met who could accurately guess how much blood a victim’s lost.”
“You mean, uh, other than…well…you?”
I nod. “Other than me.”
“I, uh…I do that.”
“Calculate blood loss?”
“Know random things,” Dr Reid explains with a smile.
“About blood?”
His smile grows as he takes the stool beside me. “About…everything. I, uh…I mean I don’t actually know everything, but I know a lot.”
“I guessed by the doctor thing.”
“They’re PhDs, three of them,” the younger man tosses off as if its something he has to say hourly. “Did you know that it would take approximately one million, two hundred thousand mosquito bites to completely drain a person?”
“I…” shake my head some, “no.” This agent didn’t just know a lot about blood, he knew more than me. For the first time I sip my drink because I want to rather than feel the need to in order to fit in.
“Random bit of trivia,” the doctor shrugs out as he takes a sip his drink. The youthful agent then leans towards me. “But, uh, what, uh…what I’m really interested in is how you, um, read blood spatter patterns.”
The Dark Passenger whispers a warning. “Oh yeah?”
“It’s, uh, it’s something I, uh, I started to, um, research a couple months ago but, uh…” the man sighs.
“Some things you can’t get from books.” Some things you get from experience.
Dr Reid smiles and nods, he thinks I get it. “Some things you get from experience.”
...Maybe it’s him that gets it.
~ prompted by plumadesatada
***
“How many?”
“35. 40 maybe. It’s really hard to keep track after awhile.” Foyet’s lips curled up. “But then, from what I’ve heard, you’d know all about that…Dexter Morgan.”
Dexter turned and leaned back on the bars. “I was doing a public service.”
Foyet chuckled. “Can I be there when you tell the judge that?”
“I only kill those that deserve to die.”
“Like me?” The Reaper pouted as if actually hurt by the thought. The fact was this guy, this CSI: Miami-type, that thought he was better because he carefully selected his victims was…pathetic. Different time, different place, knife in hand, George Foyet would only hesitate in order to play.
“Exactly.”
George stood up from the bunk slowly as his eyes keened into the other serial killer’s. “You think you can kill me, Dexter?” The question rolled out slow, low, with a near seductive tone.
“You want me to try?” Lila, Doakes, Miguel, and The Skinner had all thought they could take him. They all failed. The Boston Reaper would be no different.
George stopped at the end of the double-bunk, leaned on the post, and smiled. “Yes. Try.”
“Why?” Dexter was sniffing out not a threat, but a plan. Considering the circumstances he decided to remain open for the moment.
“You get us out of this cell, I’ll get us out of this building.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Trust.” Foyet paused, laughed. “Trust isn’t the word I’d use.” He righted himself and continued the approach. “It’s not one you’d use either. Let’s go with…” he relaxed against the bars beside Dexter, “agree upon a mutually beneficial partnership. When it’s done you go your way, I’ll go mine.”
“If I ever see you again -“
Foyet nearly rolled his eyes before he gave a pleasant smirk. “You really think I wanna keep playing in your sandbox after this?”
~ prompted by pink_siamese
***
She listened from the back, not much inclined towards talking at the moment. It was best to listen the first few times, see what the stories were like, before speaking herself. It was best because it helped to fit in better. Each city, each group, was different…this one especially so as she was finding out. A high number of law enforcement, of politicians.
“Hello, my name is, uh, Doctor…uh…Doctor Spencer Reid. But, um,” the too-young-to-be-Doctor agent gave a nervous smile, “you can just call me Reid.”
“Hi Reid,” Lila replied with the rest of the NA group. Then she listened. She listened until the end and then approached the good doctor as he picked out a sprinkled doughnut. “Mmmm, sprinkles, my favorite,” she smiled playfully at him.
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, did uh…Did you want it?” Dr Reid offered it over.
Lila laughed. “No, you earned it.”
“I did?”
“You’d be amazed how many bullshit their way through these meetings.”
“That’s seems…counter-productive.”
“I know, terrible isn’t it?” The British woman smirked a touch, then reached across the agent to pluck a honey-glazed from the spread. “But you were honest, weren’t you, Doctor?”
Dr Reid nodded some.
“So,” Lila slowed her words to tempt, “a federal agent and a doctor, aren’t you accomplished?”
Spencer smiled, nearly blushed. “They’re, uh…they’re PhDs. Three of them.”
“Well, aren't you a smart one?”
“Well I do have a 187 IQ, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”
“I’m Lila.” She offered her free hand.
The agent took it as his blush grew. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila.”
“Do you have a sponsor yet?”
"...Well, uh..."
"Even genius federal agents need sponsors you know," Lila teased softly with a smile as she leaned into him a touch.
***
To say the lock on the studio apartment was a challenge would be a joke, she might as well let him in as far as Foyet was concerned. Honestly George was more than a little disappointed at the ease of his success given their previous encounters has always proved a rather thrilling challenge. Disappointed, but not suspicious…George didn’t grow suspicious until he slid open the door and crept inside.
Candles. Candles everywhere. Candles on the sills of the windows, the shelves, the tables, the floor. The entire room, the entire studio, was lit by candles.
Foyet stepped forward, tried to make out the pattern of fire on the floor, before his breath hitched and he groaned under the mask. The Eye of Providence. It was the mother-fucking Eye of Providence. He didn’t even have to wonder, he knew she made it just for him.
“George,” the British lilt teased out from the right. He turned. “I thought the candles might go out before you ever arrived.” Lila stepped out of the little shadow that was left to reveal herself in robe and smile that went from crooked to wide. “Do you like it?”
The Reaper pulled his mask up and smiled back. “Come ‘ere.”
“What on Earth for?” The fellow killer took a step in his direction.
“I have something for you.”
“What?”
From his back pocket their playmate was pulled, flicked open. “Me.” The blade salivated in the candlelight. George Foyet would enjoy giving dear Lila this round.
"But it doesn't matter what I do, what I choose...This is fate." ~ Dexter Morgan, Dexter
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Dexter/Reid, Dexter/Foyet, Reid/Lila, Foyet/Lila
Rating: FRT
Summary: "But it doesn't matter what I do, what I choose...This is fate." ~ Dexter Morgan, Dexter
Notes: Four short Criminal Minds/Dexter crossovers. The Lila in these are Lila Tournay from Season 2 of Dexter. No better summary than that quote, really, haha! Two were written for prompts from a comment fic I did, two others just popped in my head...be kind, my first attempts at crossing over these two shows, but I hope you enjoy them, haha! :D
Of all the gin joints in all the world the FBI has to walk into mine. Whole group of them too, those profilers just off the case that I couldn’t manipulate my way.
A tall, thin, one breaks away from the group and heads in my direction. He smiles in recognition. “The blood guy.”
“The blood guy,” I nod and smile back. “The profiler guy.”
“Uh…yeah. Well…uh…one of them anyway. Dr Spencer Reid.”
I shake the hand he offers me. “Dexter Morgan.” I almost turn back, away, but something compels me not to. This agent, this man, intrigues me…he’s the first to do so in a way that hasn’t stirred up my Dark Passenger. “You know you’re the first person I’ve met who could accurately guess how much blood a victim’s lost.”
“You mean, uh, other than…well…you?”
I nod. “Other than me.”
“I, uh…I do that.”
“Calculate blood loss?”
“Know random things,” Dr Reid explains with a smile.
“About blood?”
His smile grows as he takes the stool beside me. “About…everything. I, uh…I mean I don’t actually know everything, but I know a lot.”
“I guessed by the doctor thing.”
“They’re PhDs, three of them,” the younger man tosses off as if its something he has to say hourly. “Did you know that it would take approximately one million, two hundred thousand mosquito bites to completely drain a person?”
“I…” shake my head some, “no.” This agent didn’t just know a lot about blood, he knew more than me. For the first time I sip my drink because I want to rather than feel the need to in order to fit in.
“Random bit of trivia,” the doctor shrugs out as he takes a sip his drink. The youthful agent then leans towards me. “But, uh, what, uh…what I’m really interested in is how you, um, read blood spatter patterns.”
The Dark Passenger whispers a warning. “Oh yeah?”
“It’s, uh, it’s something I, uh, I started to, um, research a couple months ago but, uh…” the man sighs.
“Some things you can’t get from books.” Some things you get from experience.
Dr Reid smiles and nods, he thinks I get it. “Some things you get from experience.”
...Maybe it’s him that gets it.
~ prompted by plumadesatada
***
“How many?”
“35. 40 maybe. It’s really hard to keep track after awhile.” Foyet’s lips curled up. “But then, from what I’ve heard, you’d know all about that…Dexter Morgan.”
Dexter turned and leaned back on the bars. “I was doing a public service.”
Foyet chuckled. “Can I be there when you tell the judge that?”
“I only kill those that deserve to die.”
“Like me?” The Reaper pouted as if actually hurt by the thought. The fact was this guy, this CSI: Miami-type, that thought he was better because he carefully selected his victims was…pathetic. Different time, different place, knife in hand, George Foyet would only hesitate in order to play.
“Exactly.”
George stood up from the bunk slowly as his eyes keened into the other serial killer’s. “You think you can kill me, Dexter?” The question rolled out slow, low, with a near seductive tone.
“You want me to try?” Lila, Doakes, Miguel, and The Skinner had all thought they could take him. They all failed. The Boston Reaper would be no different.
George stopped at the end of the double-bunk, leaned on the post, and smiled. “Yes. Try.”
“Why?” Dexter was sniffing out not a threat, but a plan. Considering the circumstances he decided to remain open for the moment.
“You get us out of this cell, I’ll get us out of this building.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Trust.” Foyet paused, laughed. “Trust isn’t the word I’d use.” He righted himself and continued the approach. “It’s not one you’d use either. Let’s go with…” he relaxed against the bars beside Dexter, “agree upon a mutually beneficial partnership. When it’s done you go your way, I’ll go mine.”
“If I ever see you again -“
Foyet nearly rolled his eyes before he gave a pleasant smirk. “You really think I wanna keep playing in your sandbox after this?”
~ prompted by pink_siamese
***
She listened from the back, not much inclined towards talking at the moment. It was best to listen the first few times, see what the stories were like, before speaking herself. It was best because it helped to fit in better. Each city, each group, was different…this one especially so as she was finding out. A high number of law enforcement, of politicians.
“Hello, my name is, uh, Doctor…uh…Doctor Spencer Reid. But, um,” the too-young-to-be-Doctor agent gave a nervous smile, “you can just call me Reid.”
“Hi Reid,” Lila replied with the rest of the NA group. Then she listened. She listened until the end and then approached the good doctor as he picked out a sprinkled doughnut. “Mmmm, sprinkles, my favorite,” she smiled playfully at him.
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, did uh…Did you want it?” Dr Reid offered it over.
Lila laughed. “No, you earned it.”
“I did?”
“You’d be amazed how many bullshit their way through these meetings.”
“That’s seems…counter-productive.”
“I know, terrible isn’t it?” The British woman smirked a touch, then reached across the agent to pluck a honey-glazed from the spread. “But you were honest, weren’t you, Doctor?”
Dr Reid nodded some.
“So,” Lila slowed her words to tempt, “a federal agent and a doctor, aren’t you accomplished?”
Spencer smiled, nearly blushed. “They’re, uh…they’re PhDs. Three of them.”
“Well, aren't you a smart one?”
“Well I do have a 187 IQ, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”
“I’m Lila.” She offered her free hand.
The agent took it as his blush grew. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila.”
“Do you have a sponsor yet?”
"...Well, uh..."
"Even genius federal agents need sponsors you know," Lila teased softly with a smile as she leaned into him a touch.
***
To say the lock on the studio apartment was a challenge would be a joke, she might as well let him in as far as Foyet was concerned. Honestly George was more than a little disappointed at the ease of his success given their previous encounters has always proved a rather thrilling challenge. Disappointed, but not suspicious…George didn’t grow suspicious until he slid open the door and crept inside.
Candles. Candles everywhere. Candles on the sills of the windows, the shelves, the tables, the floor. The entire room, the entire studio, was lit by candles.
Foyet stepped forward, tried to make out the pattern of fire on the floor, before his breath hitched and he groaned under the mask. The Eye of Providence. It was the mother-fucking Eye of Providence. He didn’t even have to wonder, he knew she made it just for him.
“George,” the British lilt teased out from the right. He turned. “I thought the candles might go out before you ever arrived.” Lila stepped out of the little shadow that was left to reveal herself in robe and smile that went from crooked to wide. “Do you like it?”
The Reaper pulled his mask up and smiled back. “Come ‘ere.”
“What on Earth for?” The fellow killer took a step in his direction.
“I have something for you.”
“What?”
From his back pocket their playmate was pulled, flicked open. “Me.” The blade salivated in the candlelight. George Foyet would enjoy giving dear Lila this round.
"But it doesn't matter what I do, what I choose...This is fate." ~ Dexter Morgan, Dexter