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[Fic] Untitled Abby Fic (WIP)
This is...a work in progress. It's a fic from Abby's POV, mostly as an exercise to myself as to not hate her so much. It's Abby/Will, Magnus/Will implied and eventually Magnus/Will. I've got a little over 2200 words right now completed. Mostly for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
liliofthevaley, who seems to be the only person who likes Abby that I've found so far. I WILL EVENTUALLY WRITE YOU SOME HENRY/KATE BB. Spoilers through "One Night" so far. Please let me know what you think because I feel like someone ought to do better by this chick than canon did.
Abby’s never been anything special. She’s the middle child from middle America and while her parents have always loved her and supported her, she knows she’s never going to be anything other than a regular girl. The FBI is kind of her only real accomplishment, mostly because a professor in one of her sociology classes made a few calls and suggested she’d be a good fit as an analyst. She was skeptical at first, yes, but she really blossomed in the Academy.
She’s not as good at the physical things, it’s true, but she’s passable. Getting a Special Agent designation is kind of a badge of honor, maybe more for her than anyone else. Her parents didn’t seem to really care about it, but they were Mom and Pop from Kansas; Abby doesn’t expect them to get it. She sort of floats through the Academy and through her first year as an analyst without a lot of incident; she’s better on a desk than in the field and she’s getting a reputation for her attention to detail. Abby’s never really gotten a reputation for anything, so it’s nice.
Bumping into the cute guy on her morning run is something new, even better when he apologizes and takes her out for coffee afterwards in this quiet little place down in Georgetown. He’s got glasses, kind of tall, no wedding ring and Abby feels a kind of nervous flutter in her stomach when the coffee turns into a three hour discussion about bone fragmentation. He’s taking a class soon, apparently, and Abby takes herself down to register for it even though as a BAU girl, she doesn’t really need it.
His name is Will, apparently, and Abby’s lucky enough to get partnered with him for the three week class. He’s sweet, smart and makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the room even if all they’re talking about is work, bones, and the little coffee place down in Georgetown. It’s kind of a drive from Quantico, it’s true, but Will says the coffee’s worth it. She’s only been the once but Abby’s inclined to agree, even if it’s more for the company than for the coffee.
When the three weeks are up and Abby knows more about bone fragmentation that she’s ever cared to know, she wonders if Will’s going to ask her out. There’s been coffee grabbed here and there, mostly right there at the Academy, but she wants to go back to Georgetown and maybe even this time on a real date and not just coffee and pastries. He doesn’t ask her for coffee but he does invite her to drive him to the airport; Will works in the Dallas field office and he’d just come out for the class. Abby is a little disappointed, but she smiles and drives him anyway, trading numbers with him and promising to call, to hang out if she ever comes to Dallas.
Will never calls. Abby isn’t really surprised; she’s not memorable for the most part. Years pass, she settles into her job and gets kind of good at it, happy with her apartment and her cat and her quiet, solitary life. She doesn’t really date, too busy with work, and most of the men she meets on a regular basis are either married, criminals or in her direct chain of command. FBI isn’t a good place to meet guys, no matter what the TV shows try to tell you.
Maybe it’s boredom with her job and her life but she starts digging. Cold case files, at first, then the weird stuff. It’s not like on TV, not like Mulder and Scully, but there’s a few weird things here and there that get shoved into backs of file cabinets and never looked at again. There’s a string of murders that don’t make a lot of sense – flower shop in Atlanta, priest in Old City. Abby asks permission to go investigate it and while it comes as a shock, she’s an analyst, her direct supervisor is lenient enough when she’s normally been so responsible. It promises to be a long-term thing and he agrees to transfer her to the Seattle Field office so she can look into it. She promises it’ll only be six months or so.
When she realizes that Will’s in Old City, working at some private research facility, she can’t help but call him up. More so when she realizes some of the weird things she has in her case files tie back to his new place of employment. Unsurprisingly, though, his number’s changed from the six years ago (has it been six? Really?) and Abby just drives up to see him, case files in tow. Maybe he has some time.
Will pulls open the door to the mansion and Abby has to wonder just what, exactly, this place is. He’s with another guy, slightly older, and she’s more nervous than she even thought she’d be before driving up. She’d expected the Will from six years ago, she guesses, and this Will who’s blinking at her in confusion and trying to pass off that he remembers her isn’t the cute guy from the track who drove her an hour for coffee. He’s…more confident, somehow. Out of her league.
Still, he agrees to go over the files with her and even if he’s a little cagey, Abby’s glad he’s helping. Will’s always been smarter than her, it’s always come more natural to him, and she’s really impressed at the way he can pull details together and make a bigger picture. She wonders why he left the FBI to come here, to live such a mysterious life, and she guesses that maybe Will too got bored with the daily grind. She doesn’t ask and he doesn’t volunteer.
***
When they wrap up the case and Abby leaves Will her number, she doesn’t expect him to call. She’s not surprised when weeks and weeks go by and there’s no sign of him but when she gets home from a run, there’s a message on her voicemail. She’s surprised, more than a little, that it’s Will and he’s asking to her dinner with him. Old City, something fancy, and he’s even going to drive down to Seattle and pick her up so she doesn’t have to drive the whole way.
What she doesn’t tell him is that her apartment in Seattle has been half packed for weeks, that she’s been dragging her feet on leaving because she doesn’t want to go back to Quantico and analysis and living her life from one safe bet to the next. She’s already written up the letter she intends to send to her supervisor back at the BAU, requesting permanent reassignment, and she’s been chickening out on faxing it over to him. Will’s call changes all that and she faxes it while she calls him back, just as nervous and excited as she’d been six years ago when he asked her out for coffee.
He apologizes for taking so long to call, something about his boss being very sick, and Abby figures that she’d be kind of an ass for not thinking that was a good reason for him not to call her. Besides, he’s asked her out on a date, and she’s got to buy a dress and heels and all sorts of things that she doesn’t normally buy because she’s not that kind of girl. Maybe she can be that kind of girl. Maybe this is the start of something good.
When the night of the date finally rolls around (postponed over and over again, work things, he’s really sorry), Abby spends hours getting ready. She fiddles with her hair, up, then down, straight and finally settling on curled. She feels soft, feminine, pretty. She doesn’t feel at all like Abby Corrigan, the girl who sometimes spills coffee on her blouse and runs into people when navigating the corridors at Quantico. She feels special. Will makes her feel special.
He compliments her dress and spends the car ride back to Old City describing the place they’re going to eat. He’s apparently used his boss’s name to get them a table (it’s exclusive) and the way he says Helen Magnus sounds almost reverent. He cares about her, easy to see, but from what little bit she knows about the Sanctuary, she knows it’s a tight-knit place. It has to be, with the secrets they have, and Abby’s surprised he’s even told her as much as he has.
When she’s nervous, she giggles and acts sort of like a goofy kid. If anything, Abby has always been funny, and it’s easier to play that way than to blush and go quiet. Helen Magnus makes her nervous because she’s the kind of woman Abby’s never been: aloof, mysterious, exotic. She’s never been Abby Corrigan, most famous for tripping at her senior recital and chipping a tooth on her flute. She’s special. Smart. Unique.
Maybe that’s what possesses her to mock a British accent and she’s happy to see Will playing along with it. His accent’s much better, very cute, and Abby feels that nervous flutter all over again. Is he going to kiss her during the date? Will he ask her out again? Will they have sex? Will he think badly of her for going for sex on a first date? There’s too many questions reeling through her head and she’s barely got a handle on herself before a guy’s pointing a gun at her. Uh oh. She’s not…she’s never been field material. Will’s a psychiatrist. This isn’t supposed to happen.
They want him to save some crime boss and a quick look at the gang tattoos tells Abby that they’re in trouble. It’s the Vendetta Crew, top of every FBI watchlist she’s seen for the past few years, and these aren’t the drug dealers Will thinks they are. She tries to warn him but he brushes her off, trying to take command of the situation. Abby can tell he’s not so used to that, being in charge, and that he’s worried and scared not only for him, but for her. She wants to tell him that it’s going to be okay but the words stick in her throat; she’s panicking. It’s not going to be okay.
It turns out that Will’s the one to give her reassurances and Abby bristles. There’s no way he could have known what she was thinking about and she’s upset he’s giving her platitudes when there’s no good way out of this situation. She snaps, just a little, and regrets it. He seems hurt that she’s not confident in him and that just makes her feel worse, the cloying panic rising in her throat and taking over her ability to think and breathe.
She knows that he’s more important than she is but if she can do anything to turn this situation around, she’s going to. She snatches up a bowl and demands more hot water, false bravery overriding her logic for a moment. Will’s glaring at her like she’s done something stupid and maybe she has but she’s got to try. She’s got to try and get both of them out of this situation before they get hurt and it doesn’t seem like the Sanctuary knows they’re even gone. They think Will’s on a date. They don’t want to bother him.
It doesn’t work, except to piss off their captors and Will quickly dresses her down, tells her to be quiet and to help. Abby has trouble focusing when she’s this nervous but she wants to try and when Will makes up a list of ingredients for the antitoxin and insists she goes to buy them, Abby thinks he’s being too trusting. They don’t care if she and Will live or die and right now, he needs to stall, hope that help’s coming. Not save the guy! When he presses close to her, her heart leaps for a different reason and he still smells like aftershave he probably put on to impress her. He smells so good and when his words are just to tell her to escape, she’s almost let down. Almost. At least Will’s thinking. She can’t even claim that much.
She doesn’t follow his instructions. She knows that once the cure is finished, they’re finished too and she keeps hoping that someone from the Sanctuary will notice they’re in trouble. She tries to find an opportunity to drop a hint to one of the vendors she’s been sent to but the goon they sent along with her tails her too closely. There’s no window. She doesn’t want to risk it. She tries to be blatantly obvious in how loud she is when she buys things, tries to talk about the Sanctuary, getting things on the cheap. Maybe one of these guys will tip someone off and know there’s something wrong. Maybe.
The one instruction of Will’s she does follow is to let the goon open the box with the scorpion. She doesn’t run away. She knows they’ll just kill him and she cares too much about him to let that happen on her watch. So she comes back and Will just ends up getting knocked out for his troubles. It’s a little brave of him, so surprising he’d fight so strongly for her, and she almost thinks he’ll kiss her when they sit on a dingy couch and she tends his head wound.
liliofthevaley, who seems to be the only person who likes Abby that I've found so far. I WILL EVENTUALLY WRITE YOU SOME HENRY/KATE BB. Spoilers through "One Night" so far. Please let me know what you think because I feel like someone ought to do better by this chick than canon did.Abby’s never been anything special. She’s the middle child from middle America and while her parents have always loved her and supported her, she knows she’s never going to be anything other than a regular girl. The FBI is kind of her only real accomplishment, mostly because a professor in one of her sociology classes made a few calls and suggested she’d be a good fit as an analyst. She was skeptical at first, yes, but she really blossomed in the Academy.
She’s not as good at the physical things, it’s true, but she’s passable. Getting a Special Agent designation is kind of a badge of honor, maybe more for her than anyone else. Her parents didn’t seem to really care about it, but they were Mom and Pop from Kansas; Abby doesn’t expect them to get it. She sort of floats through the Academy and through her first year as an analyst without a lot of incident; she’s better on a desk than in the field and she’s getting a reputation for her attention to detail. Abby’s never really gotten a reputation for anything, so it’s nice.
Bumping into the cute guy on her morning run is something new, even better when he apologizes and takes her out for coffee afterwards in this quiet little place down in Georgetown. He’s got glasses, kind of tall, no wedding ring and Abby feels a kind of nervous flutter in her stomach when the coffee turns into a three hour discussion about bone fragmentation. He’s taking a class soon, apparently, and Abby takes herself down to register for it even though as a BAU girl, she doesn’t really need it.
His name is Will, apparently, and Abby’s lucky enough to get partnered with him for the three week class. He’s sweet, smart and makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the room even if all they’re talking about is work, bones, and the little coffee place down in Georgetown. It’s kind of a drive from Quantico, it’s true, but Will says the coffee’s worth it. She’s only been the once but Abby’s inclined to agree, even if it’s more for the company than for the coffee.
When the three weeks are up and Abby knows more about bone fragmentation that she’s ever cared to know, she wonders if Will’s going to ask her out. There’s been coffee grabbed here and there, mostly right there at the Academy, but she wants to go back to Georgetown and maybe even this time on a real date and not just coffee and pastries. He doesn’t ask her for coffee but he does invite her to drive him to the airport; Will works in the Dallas field office and he’d just come out for the class. Abby is a little disappointed, but she smiles and drives him anyway, trading numbers with him and promising to call, to hang out if she ever comes to Dallas.
Will never calls. Abby isn’t really surprised; she’s not memorable for the most part. Years pass, she settles into her job and gets kind of good at it, happy with her apartment and her cat and her quiet, solitary life. She doesn’t really date, too busy with work, and most of the men she meets on a regular basis are either married, criminals or in her direct chain of command. FBI isn’t a good place to meet guys, no matter what the TV shows try to tell you.
Maybe it’s boredom with her job and her life but she starts digging. Cold case files, at first, then the weird stuff. It’s not like on TV, not like Mulder and Scully, but there’s a few weird things here and there that get shoved into backs of file cabinets and never looked at again. There’s a string of murders that don’t make a lot of sense – flower shop in Atlanta, priest in Old City. Abby asks permission to go investigate it and while it comes as a shock, she’s an analyst, her direct supervisor is lenient enough when she’s normally been so responsible. It promises to be a long-term thing and he agrees to transfer her to the Seattle Field office so she can look into it. She promises it’ll only be six months or so.
When she realizes that Will’s in Old City, working at some private research facility, she can’t help but call him up. More so when she realizes some of the weird things she has in her case files tie back to his new place of employment. Unsurprisingly, though, his number’s changed from the six years ago (has it been six? Really?) and Abby just drives up to see him, case files in tow. Maybe he has some time.
Will pulls open the door to the mansion and Abby has to wonder just what, exactly, this place is. He’s with another guy, slightly older, and she’s more nervous than she even thought she’d be before driving up. She’d expected the Will from six years ago, she guesses, and this Will who’s blinking at her in confusion and trying to pass off that he remembers her isn’t the cute guy from the track who drove her an hour for coffee. He’s…more confident, somehow. Out of her league.
Still, he agrees to go over the files with her and even if he’s a little cagey, Abby’s glad he’s helping. Will’s always been smarter than her, it’s always come more natural to him, and she’s really impressed at the way he can pull details together and make a bigger picture. She wonders why he left the FBI to come here, to live such a mysterious life, and she guesses that maybe Will too got bored with the daily grind. She doesn’t ask and he doesn’t volunteer.
When they wrap up the case and Abby leaves Will her number, she doesn’t expect him to call. She’s not surprised when weeks and weeks go by and there’s no sign of him but when she gets home from a run, there’s a message on her voicemail. She’s surprised, more than a little, that it’s Will and he’s asking to her dinner with him. Old City, something fancy, and he’s even going to drive down to Seattle and pick her up so she doesn’t have to drive the whole way.
What she doesn’t tell him is that her apartment in Seattle has been half packed for weeks, that she’s been dragging her feet on leaving because she doesn’t want to go back to Quantico and analysis and living her life from one safe bet to the next. She’s already written up the letter she intends to send to her supervisor back at the BAU, requesting permanent reassignment, and she’s been chickening out on faxing it over to him. Will’s call changes all that and she faxes it while she calls him back, just as nervous and excited as she’d been six years ago when he asked her out for coffee.
He apologizes for taking so long to call, something about his boss being very sick, and Abby figures that she’d be kind of an ass for not thinking that was a good reason for him not to call her. Besides, he’s asked her out on a date, and she’s got to buy a dress and heels and all sorts of things that she doesn’t normally buy because she’s not that kind of girl. Maybe she can be that kind of girl. Maybe this is the start of something good.
When the night of the date finally rolls around (postponed over and over again, work things, he’s really sorry), Abby spends hours getting ready. She fiddles with her hair, up, then down, straight and finally settling on curled. She feels soft, feminine, pretty. She doesn’t feel at all like Abby Corrigan, the girl who sometimes spills coffee on her blouse and runs into people when navigating the corridors at Quantico. She feels special. Will makes her feel special.
He compliments her dress and spends the car ride back to Old City describing the place they’re going to eat. He’s apparently used his boss’s name to get them a table (it’s exclusive) and the way he says Helen Magnus sounds almost reverent. He cares about her, easy to see, but from what little bit she knows about the Sanctuary, she knows it’s a tight-knit place. It has to be, with the secrets they have, and Abby’s surprised he’s even told her as much as he has.
When she’s nervous, she giggles and acts sort of like a goofy kid. If anything, Abby has always been funny, and it’s easier to play that way than to blush and go quiet. Helen Magnus makes her nervous because she’s the kind of woman Abby’s never been: aloof, mysterious, exotic. She’s never been Abby Corrigan, most famous for tripping at her senior recital and chipping a tooth on her flute. She’s special. Smart. Unique.
Maybe that’s what possesses her to mock a British accent and she’s happy to see Will playing along with it. His accent’s much better, very cute, and Abby feels that nervous flutter all over again. Is he going to kiss her during the date? Will he ask her out again? Will they have sex? Will he think badly of her for going for sex on a first date? There’s too many questions reeling through her head and she’s barely got a handle on herself before a guy’s pointing a gun at her. Uh oh. She’s not…she’s never been field material. Will’s a psychiatrist. This isn’t supposed to happen.
They want him to save some crime boss and a quick look at the gang tattoos tells Abby that they’re in trouble. It’s the Vendetta Crew, top of every FBI watchlist she’s seen for the past few years, and these aren’t the drug dealers Will thinks they are. She tries to warn him but he brushes her off, trying to take command of the situation. Abby can tell he’s not so used to that, being in charge, and that he’s worried and scared not only for him, but for her. She wants to tell him that it’s going to be okay but the words stick in her throat; she’s panicking. It’s not going to be okay.
It turns out that Will’s the one to give her reassurances and Abby bristles. There’s no way he could have known what she was thinking about and she’s upset he’s giving her platitudes when there’s no good way out of this situation. She snaps, just a little, and regrets it. He seems hurt that she’s not confident in him and that just makes her feel worse, the cloying panic rising in her throat and taking over her ability to think and breathe.
She knows that he’s more important than she is but if she can do anything to turn this situation around, she’s going to. She snatches up a bowl and demands more hot water, false bravery overriding her logic for a moment. Will’s glaring at her like she’s done something stupid and maybe she has but she’s got to try. She’s got to try and get both of them out of this situation before they get hurt and it doesn’t seem like the Sanctuary knows they’re even gone. They think Will’s on a date. They don’t want to bother him.
It doesn’t work, except to piss off their captors and Will quickly dresses her down, tells her to be quiet and to help. Abby has trouble focusing when she’s this nervous but she wants to try and when Will makes up a list of ingredients for the antitoxin and insists she goes to buy them, Abby thinks he’s being too trusting. They don’t care if she and Will live or die and right now, he needs to stall, hope that help’s coming. Not save the guy! When he presses close to her, her heart leaps for a different reason and he still smells like aftershave he probably put on to impress her. He smells so good and when his words are just to tell her to escape, she’s almost let down. Almost. At least Will’s thinking. She can’t even claim that much.
She doesn’t follow his instructions. She knows that once the cure is finished, they’re finished too and she keeps hoping that someone from the Sanctuary will notice they’re in trouble. She tries to find an opportunity to drop a hint to one of the vendors she’s been sent to but the goon they sent along with her tails her too closely. There’s no window. She doesn’t want to risk it. She tries to be blatantly obvious in how loud she is when she buys things, tries to talk about the Sanctuary, getting things on the cheap. Maybe one of these guys will tip someone off and know there’s something wrong. Maybe.
The one instruction of Will’s she does follow is to let the goon open the box with the scorpion. She doesn’t run away. She knows they’ll just kill him and she cares too much about him to let that happen on her watch. So she comes back and Will just ends up getting knocked out for his troubles. It’s a little brave of him, so surprising he’d fight so strongly for her, and she almost thinks he’ll kiss her when they sit on a dingy couch and she tends his head wound.
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