great! i knew you’d agree.
Remove Candy and fun and costumes from Halloween and it's BAU.
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thanks, jack. you’re coming to dinner tonight, right? 🫂
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working at the bau is like celebrating halloween everyday without the candy and the fun.
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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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“unsub means perpetrator, yes?” he questions as he’s already walking toward the car, his face glued to the now opened case file. “everyone who’s hurt by this, have they reported it?” ——⠀
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his face is grim as he speaks, stepping onto the road as he gets into the driver’s side. “i understand your confidentiality, but if you know something about a cure then i expect you to say it.” ⠀
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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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“yes. yes-“ the ringing in his ears dull at the sound of the man’s voice. Elijah forces a small smile forward as he steps toward the man. “Is the outbreak worsening?” he asked, getting straight to the point. ⠀
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— “we’re currently based at the forty—third precinct, if you’d join me. any information you can give us will be invaluable.” ⠀
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“doctor thorne?” he greeted, feet clacking against cobblestones as he approached the scientist. content at finding his face matched the file tucked under his elbow, aaron extended a hand. “agent hotchner. how do you do?” ⠀
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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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—hopes of distracting them both, voice hoarse. “i suppose morgan’s interest in them might be contagious.” his jaw worked as he tilted his head imperceptibly to look over, “you’re shaking.” 
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