Its cold outside, there's no kind of atmosphere, I'm all alone, more or less...

[forensicjunkie]

Characters: Abby Scuito, Alex Drake
Rating: PG
Time Period: Modern
Location: Abby's room, Ghost
Relative Date: During the tape plot. Since there's been a hold up, I'm assuming Abby would have gone to bed that night shortly after the grotto. This late that night, say 2am or so?
Status: Closed

Comments

[poshmouthytart]

Alex's day had already been far too long. Between what had happened with Chris, and her slow attempts at mending bridges with her team, her mind was still far too heavy with everything she had been forced to take in

[forensicjunkie]

The knock interrupted her pity party with a resounding echo. Ducking a little at the sound, Abby had to remind herself it was just a knock at the door. Not a gunshot or poltergeist. It could be an axe murderer though! With this fearful thought in mind, she debated on whether to answer at all. Though, if the person on the other side of the door did have an axe they'd probably chop their way in soon enough.

"Whoever it is out there, I have mace. And brass knuckles, AND a taser! I'm not going to let you murder me and eat my brains or anything without a fight!"

If it was someone harmless, hopefully she hadn't made herself appear super duper crazy. And, if she had, hopefully they'd spread the word that Abby Scuito shouldn't be messed with. For good measure, she hid Bert under the bed and dug out the aforementioned weapon items out of her NCIS bag.

[poshmouthytart]

At first, Alex was caught completely off-guard by Abby's threats wafting through the thick door.

In any other circumstance, Abby's reaction would have been hysterical if it hadn't been so apt. On the other hand, Alex was exhausted enough to still find it hysterical, and she wasn't sure if that should be comforting or terrifying.

"Abby, calm down, it's Alex," she assured her through the door. "I promise, I'm not in the mood for brains tonight."

[forensicjunkie]

While yelling her threats, Abby had backed up all the way to the far corner of the stone room. From this vantage, at least she had her back covered and a good look at her opponent. If they came in wielding a machine gun she was probably screwed but then she'd probably have been screwed anyways. Balling her fists, darkly painted nails digging into her palms, she awaited what the person on the other side of the door would respond with.

What she heard was the last thing Abby had expected.

"What? How are you Alex, how's that possible...?" She demanded. There was hope in Abby's voice but she did her best to mask it with skepticism and distrust. It would be all too easy to lure her out with a recording of her beloved friend's voice.