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"WHAT THE fuck, Astra?" Phoenix Carter had half the mind to yell, but kept the fact that an FBI agent with a loaded gun was in the room next door in mind, as he whispered his words with as much malice as he could muster.
Her hands clumsily grabbed at the kitchen knife on her counter-top, pointing it at Phoenix's abdomen. "Do you know how fucking difficult you made my life yesterday? I had to smash my head against a table because of you assholes." She seethed, pointing with her free hand at the bandage wrapped countless times around her head, concealing the gash she'd inflicted.
"Hey don't shoot — well, stab, I guess — the messenger. You think I make the calls with what happens and when?" His attempt to diffuse the tension with a little jest hadn't worked quite as well as it would have in the past.
"No, but you're the one that edited Enzo over Kai. Why else would it have been so pixilated, huh?" She questioned, the knife edging closer with every word, until it was only mere centimetres away from impaling him. Surely she wouldn't do it, he thought. But Dylan's words rang like blaring sirens in his mind. Had she told the BAU the truth? Was she sleeping with the agent?
He was quickly able to brush his doubts away after looking at her fully-clothed figure. If Astra had slept with him, it would've been obvious. It always was. "Well I'm glad you remember what I'm good for," he quipped. "But I'm here to warn you, not have a friendly catch up." Sure, she was pointing a knife at him, but he had changed. The Phoenix Carter she knew would've done everything he could to make sure she didn't hold any resentment towards him. What had happened when she had been gone?
The blonde girl let out an unamused scoff. "Warn me about what? Another dead old man coming my way?"
"Astra, you're got abysmal aim, so put down the knife. We only have so much time to talk until that agent of yours wakes up." The mention of Derek forced the girl to regain her composure. He was right, what would happen if he walked in on that scene? He'd surely shoot Phoenix, or her. Who knew?
"That's right, so say what you want and then fuck off." Astra wasn't quite sure why she was being so hostile, but she'd just woken up and was yet to have her morning coffee, so she'd figured that explained her bitchy attitude ( she was a bitch all the time, but more so in that moment than most ) "look, I'm still half-asleep. You couldn't have chosen a better time to do this?"
There was a faint hint of a smile on Phoenix's face, he'd finally allowed himself to take note of how he'd missed her snarky attitude, "yeah but my schedule is pretty packed. . ."
"Are you having withdrawal symptoms from the heists? Can't put your skills to good use?" She teased, moving closer to her friend, the knife now aimed at the ground.
"You know me too well," he played along, god how he wanted to spend the day sitting in that room, talking to her for hours on end about nothing and everything at the same time. But he had a job to do and a gun in his jeans, so it would be best if he got out of there before she figured the latter out.
