thanks, jack. you’re coming to dinner tonight, right? 🫂
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“yes,” he affirms as he unlocks the car, just in time to see the scientist’s struggle to get in. “from what we can tell, yes. so far — of the twenty cases reported — we have seventeen fatalities, eight of them children.” — ⠀
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it’s with a polite smile that the agent withdraws his hand, shifting to pass elijah the file. “no, but we have reason to believe that our unsub is planning a wider attack.” he turns on his heel, nodding to the suv. — ⠀
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lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship @thornescire .
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hestia.xn--6ii “do scientists have like a title” nadja you are so loved
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his lips pressed into a firm line. unimpressed. still, he didn’t argue. “you still miscounted. i hope you’re not that bad at math,” a faint taunt, intending to alleviate the concerned tension. ⠀
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“just take a breath. the bomb squad is en route,” he murmured. “we’ll get you out of here in no time.” the elder doesn’t dare make that a promise, not when the thing starts beeping. “keep talking, lyla. it’ll distract you.”⠀
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“you can’t even see straight,” he cuts her off, crouching down to eye—level. one hand finds the profiler’s shoulder, holding it firm as though worried she might slump forward. “just humor me a moment, elle.” ⠀
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“breathe, thomas.” he chastised her, hands flexing in absence at his sides. standing still and waiting for assistance was something the senior agent didn’t much enjoy. “you might have a point,” muttered in the— ⠀
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