( Crossover V. ) - Blog Posts

@experimentx628 cont

JJ thanked whatever entity out there that the office was currently empty, save for their team. They'd just gotten back from a case, dropping off relevant files and paperwork before a well-deserved rest, and someone had jokingly mentioned how it would easier if they had another Morgan around to ease the amount of file boxes they had to carry.

Big mistake.

ONE Derek Morgan could be enough, let alone ten of him cluttering the office. Especially since each one seemed to be dumber than the last. How were they making less progress now? Jennifer sighed, hands settling upon her hips.

Blue gaze directed towards the companion beside her, eyebrow raised. " How exactly do we fix this? " The blonde questions tiredly, hoping there was an easy solution.

Daniel watches the smoke fade into the air with shadowed eyes, purple smudges underneath too purple and prominent to be anything other than from a lack of sleep. His fingers itch to grab a cigarette of his own, but the inevitable crash out from his dad if he went home smelling like smoke (again) wasn't worth it.

The teen sighs, fingers picking at the worn sleeves of his shirt. " Just family stuff. Arguing, y'know – and dad's got a lot going on at work so it's... yeah. " Daniel clears his throat awkwardly. The divorce wasn't his favorite subject - and going between two households was proving difficult. Didn't help that his dad complained about every normal teenage thing Daniel did – the joy of having a cop for a father.

@fracturals gets a starter :)

Michael sat down, cigarette between his lips as per usual. " You look terrible." He said, blowing smoke out into the cool night air. " I told you not sleeping would catch up with you." He skipped sleep sure but at least he had eyeliner to cover up with. " What's going on with you anyways?"

❛ i made you your favorite food. ❜

(it's burned somehow)

for Spencer

The plate of food before him was... questionable, to say the least. Mostly charred, unidentifiable pieces with, somehow, a cold center. It defied all logic of cooking - yet, so did everything about his new companion. Most 'dogs' didn't have the physical ability to even open an oven, let alone attempt to prepare and cook a whole meal. Of course, a lot of things about his 'emotional support animal' lacked sense ; the green mouth, the surprising dexterity, her speech... still, Spencer couldn't bring himself to dwell on the science of it.

The notion was sweet, a distinguished contrast to the usual chaos that she brought into his life. Even if it was a futile gesture ( he couldn't exactly consume the contents of the plate before him ) the meaning behind it wasn't lost to the profiler.

" Oh, thank you... " Spencer finally breaks his silence, using a fork to hesitantly push the contents of the plate around a bit, if only to keep appearances. " I'm actually not that hungry right now, but we can uh.. save this for later ? " He suggests gently, placing the fork aside and moving to place the plate elsewhere – at least until he could sneakily throw it away.