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𝑷 𝑶 𝑽
❝ 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚐 ❞

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ㅤ"𝟏𝟖𝟐𝟑 𝐇𝐔𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐓. 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘," Derek said as he drove the car that carried him, Emily, and Finley, hand gripping tight on the steering wheel. The entire team was on a conference call as they raced the clock to find and save Lucy Masters before the unsub, Robert Johnson, kills her.

"Garcia, it's been three minutes since the signal went up live," Emily pointed out. "Lucy might not have that much time left."

"I can buy you some time," Penelope told her assuredly. "Now that I've got his physical address, I got my business all up in his."

Finley could only smirk at the thought of Penelope ruining the unsub's day. This entire case frustrated the hell out of the brunette, and she wanted nothing more than to find this SOB and throttle him for his sick definition of entertainment.

As soon as they arrived at the scene, Finley was the first out, her gun on her hand as she rushed towards where the freezer was located. She couldn't be bothered turning the safety off, knowing that regardless of whether he was armed or not, she can take him down.

"Finn!" Derek called out as he tried to walk past her, not wanting her to go in first.

But she ignored him, pushing open the door, and the first thing she saw was the guy trying to strangle Lucy.

"Get off of her!" She hissed, putting her gun into its holster, as she strutted towards the unsub. "Hands off!"

"No! No!" The unsub lashed out like a toddler having a tantrum. "No! Lucy!"

But Finley only added more force into her grip as she pulled him away and dragged him over near the entrance, an arm around his chest as she held him back. Derek and Emily were quick to rescue Lucy, untying her, while Detective Fordham called out for paramedics.

Derek shared a look with Finley, slightly chastising her with his eyes. "You could've gotten hurt."

"You could've gotten hurt too," she rolled her eyes, grunting a little while tightening her grip while Robert attempted to escape her grasp. "It doesn't matter who went in first or not as long as we save Lucy. Plus, I could've taken him regardless."

He could only sigh as he closed his eyes while clenching his jaw. Despite Finley probably being the best fighter in the team, he couldn't stop himself from worrying. One thing he noticed was her self-confidence that would sometimes annoy him. He knew very well that she can handle herself, but her lack of concern for her own safety was something he wanted her to work on.

"Guys," Emily called out, turning their attention away from each other. She gestured towards the bodies. "It's Dorris Archer...and Allison Kittridge."

"You killed these women for your fans," Derek walked right up to Robert, staring him down while Finley held him. "But this is where you kept them for yourself, isn't it, you sick son of bitch." He glared right at the unsub before stepping to the side.

"What do you see when you look at them?" Emily asked Robert, her tone nearly desperate as if she wanted to figure out what exactly he was thinking. She and Derek watched as his eyes flitted from one corpse to another.

"You'll never understand what I did," he finally answered after a beat. "But out there...my followers...they understand."

"Let me take him," Derek told Finley, who more than willingly handed him the slimeball. He gave the man a death glare, gripping his forearms as he faced him. "Well, too bad there's no wireless in prison. Get him out of here!"

As Robert was being dragged out of the freezer, Finley continued on glaring at him while standing next to Emily.

"Sarap ihagis sa pader nitong gagong 'to," she cursed under her breath. "Buwisit na hinayupak." (It'd be so satisfying to throw this fucker against the wall. Annoying animal.)

Emily threw her a curious glance, hearing her words. "Okay, I did not know a thing you said, but I'm terrified for him."

Finley snorted, still glaring at the back of Robert's head. "He should be."

Robert Johnson took a chance to glance back at his victims, but instead he found Finley's eyes glaring at him. He slowly began to give her a smirk, but it soon dropped. He began thrashing against the officers, ignoring their grunts and shouts of annoyance. They didn't realize he was doing that not to escape; he was doing that because he was scared.

Because he could've sworn her eyes glowed amber.

"I genuinely disliked that dude," Finley complained to Emily who was seated across from her. "He was infuriating and...ugh! I wanted to sock him, so badly."

"I could tell," Emily joked, nodding as she grinned.

"Why, what did she do?" Derek asked. He was sitting on the chair on the other side of the aisle, lifting the left side of his headphones.

"I...I'm not sure," she laughed. "I think she was cursing at him in Filipino, but I have no clue what she actually said. But the way she said it? It was terrifying."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, it's Finley. She may look like an angel but under all that designer clothing," he pointed a finger at said woman, "is a deadly viper waiting to strike."

Finley hummed in appreciation, winking at them. "I wouldn't be me if I wasn't."

"So violent," Emily chuckled. "Hey, did you see how the unsub started, you know, fighting against the cops all of the sudden? Like, I don't know...he seemed scared of something."

"Maybe because he realized he wouldn't be able to see his victims anymore," Derek shrugged, frowning at the table in front of him. "I agree with Finn though, he really was infuriating. To think he's actually got followers? It's sick."

"Sadly, there are even worse people," Finley scoffed, placing her chin on her hand as she rested her elbow on top of the table.

Emily could only pat her arm. "That's why we're here."

"Yeah...that's why we're here."

Just like after every case, the team had to fill out the paperwork.

Finley entered the bullpen, carrying her everyday iced latte, and immediately groaned at the sight of a stack on her desk. She pouted, playfully glaring at Spencer who greeted her with an excited wave. That morning, she was wearing something reminiscent of what she wore on her first day; a white top, and black bottoms, except this time, they were a pair of dungarees. Wearing her everyday makeup and accessories, she tied everything off with black Mary Janes hidden under her pants that—for once—had a two-inch heel, making her a solid six-feet. She also had a black purse slung over her left shoulder.

"Why are you so happy?" She continued to pout as she sat on her chair, leaning over her and Spencer's partition.

"I like paperwork day," Spencer simply answered, grinning at her so widely that his eyes were disappearing.

"Just 'cause you're like a freakin' robot," she stuck her tongue out. "You go through your pile so quickly." But then she hummed in thought. "Well, even though I'm not as fast, at least they'll be able to read my handwriting."

Spencer gave her an offended look, letting out a huff as he jutted his lower lip out slightly. "Hey, that's not fair."

"What's not fair is the headache you give Hotch when tries to read your chicken scratch."

"She's not wrong," Hotch commented as he walked past their desks before heading into his office.

Spencer let out a noise of disbelief. "You guys are so rude."

"Poor baby Spencer," Derek teased, joining their conversation. He laughed at Spencer's pouty face before turning to Finley, finally noticing the faint bruises on her arms when she pulled up her sleeves. "Woah, what happened to you?"

"Hm?" Finley absentmindedly asked as she began opening the folders, before she looked up and realized what he was referring to. "Oh, these? I went out to look for a competent sparring partner since I got pretty tired of beating you every single time. I found one."

Emily huffed in amusement. "Finley is out to get everyone today," she laughed. She looked at Derek's expression and laughed harder. "You look so done," she told him.

"I am," he gave a playful glare to Finley, who only shrugged. "Who the hell got you that good?"

"An old friend of mine," she vaguely replied, shaking her head at Derek as she thought back on yesterday's spar with the redhaired woman she considers a mentor.

Laughing under her breath, Finley focused her attention back on her case files again, pulling out her favorite pen from her little pen holder and began writing down her numerous observations throughout the case while casually sipping coffee with metal straw from time to time, fueling her focus. She subconsciously grabbed some Frutos from her purse and threw one at Derek's desk, it landing right next to his folder.

"I don't understand how you can throw these so accurately," Derek told her as he began opening it.

Finley only winked before opening one for herself. She was getting lost in her work when Spencer suddenly tapped on her shoulder, reaching over their partition.

"Yes?" She asked, tearing her eyes away.

"Do you know any Filipino tongue twisters? I want to be able to pronounce things better," Spencer shrugged, before he let out a nervous chuckle at Finley's suddenly mischievous smile.

"I've got one," she said as her smile turned into a smirk. "Nakakapagpabagabag."

"...Huh?"

"Nakakapagpabagabag."

"Can you say that a little slower?"

"Nakaka..." She slowed down, gesturing for him to continue, smirking a little.

"Nakaka..."

"...pag..."

"...pag..."

"...pabagabag."

"...pabaga--what? Is that an actual word?" He wondered, frowning a little at the amount of syllables.

"Yeah, it means 'worrisome'," she shrugged, still smirking. "It's an obscure term, not really used in normal conversation. It's usually only used as a tongue twister."

"...Say it again?"

"Nakakapagpabagabag."

"Nakakapagpabababa--no wait!"

Finley laughed at him as he pursed his lips. She could see him trying to figure out how not to trip over the syllables as he mouthed the word while staring up the ceiling with a frown.

"You want the longer version?" She tried not to laugh harder as his eyes snapped back to meet hers, devastation clear in them.

"There's a longer version?!"

Before Finley could recite the whole thing, Grant came rushing to her desk. "Hey, hey, Strauss is looking for you."

"What, why?" She frowned, thinking a million reasons why Strauss would call her. She could only think of one thing. She gave Grant a firm nod. "Okay." She stood up from her chair and shouldered her purse again, throwing a Frutos at Grant, "Thanks." Then she began walking towards Strauss' office.

"What's that all about?" Emily frowned, watching Finley's retreating back. "You think she's in trouble?"

"Nah," Derek shook his head. "It's probably just Strauss being paranoid, you know how she is."

"Yeah, but Finley's never been called to Strauss' office before," Spencer countered, worrying slightly.

"Yeah, but, we all know Finn did nothing wrong, so let's not jump to conclusions," the dark-skinned man gave him a pointed look. "Don't worry."

"You called?" Finley casually peaked her head into Chief Strauss' office, her hand clutching her purse so it wouldn't fall off her shoulder.

"Agent," Strauss nodded professionally. "If you would please come in and close the door."

Finley did as Strauss asked, walking closer to the older woman's desk and immediately noticed seven folders spread across the chief's desk. "What is this?"

Strauss sighed, placing her elbows on her desk as she leaned forward, stress clear in her form as looked down. "Ilya Kuznetsov's resurfaced." She gestured toward the folders. "And came bearing gifts."

Finley inhaled sharply at the name, her eyes hardening as she unconsciously straightened her posture, shoulders stiff and neck straight, chin up. She clenched her jaw, glancing at the folders. "Is it bad?"

"It's a clear message," Strauss pinched the bridge of her nose.

Sighing, Finley sat on the chair in front of Strauss' desk and grabbed a random folder. As soon she opened one, it felt like her breath was knocked out of her. Brown hair, hazel eyes..."He looks just like..." She frantically opened another one and clenched her jaw. Female, black hair, dark eyes, straight nose. She opened another one. Female, blonde hair, blue eyes. And another one. Male, black hair, goatee. She eventually managed to open each of them. "They all look like..."

"Yes," Strauss nodded. "I also received this," lifting up her hand, there was a card in between her pointer and middle finger, "and I'd bet it's from Kuznetsov too."

Finley reached out, and gingerly took the card from the woman's hand. There on the piece of paper were two words.

Hail HYDRA.

Clenching her jaw, she leaned back against the chair and carelessly flicked the card back and forth. "Did you test this for prints?"

"Of course, there was nothing there."

"What do you suppose we do?"

"That's up to you, Agent Barrett. After all, that's what you're here for."

author's note: i fuckin wish i was as tall as finn :') i hate being 5'0 :')

anywaaayyyyyy, shit's about to get real folks, so buckle up. took me a while to finalize this chapter because i didn't know how to properly...write it. like,, there were a lot of things i have to consider AND reconsider so yeah. 

and anyways, thank you for 11k!! this book has been gaining nearly 1k reads a day and that's so surreal. i'm really thankful for al of your guys' support on this book and every time i read all of yalls comments and theories, it makes me sooooo happy !!! :))) 

easter egg count — 5 

one is considered back to back that's why i counted it as 1 :p

hope you guys enjoy!!! lmk if there are any spelling mistakes or whatnot,, it's so annoying when i don't spot one and suddenly feel embarrassed after an hour or so bc only then did i realize T-T