Written kwa editor frog on fanfiction.net
There was only this part, if she sasisho more, I will post them here as well. :)
No way.”
“There’s no one else.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I couldn’t be zaidi serious if I told wewe that the fate of the free world depended on this—which, incidentally, it kinda does.”
“Emily, come on. I take it back.”
The agent smiled an impish sort of grin. “Not so funny now, is it?”
“Come on.”
“Oh, quit complaining. You’ll have company. Look, there he comes.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Emily stood in front of her colleague, passively checking that his hair was straight and his outfit were suitable. “Reid, wewe look great. Where’d wewe get the clothes?”
“Roxie over there borrowed them to me.” The agent grimaced. “You do realize I have enough trouble with prostitutes?”
“Prostitutes upendo you, Reid. Why do wewe think wewe got picked for this?”
“Because we made fun of wewe that time in Atlanta?”
Emily shook her head. “That’s just a bonus.” The grin on her face widened.
“Oh, there wewe are,” a tall woman alisema as she walked over, dragging a reluctant morgan in tow. “Took forever to get this one ready, it did.”
“Aww,” Emily snickered, taking a look at their informant’s handiwork. “You two look simply gorgeous.”
“I’m gonna need a mwezi off after this,” morgan grumbled, trying to adjust his skirt, upindo and high heels.
“You’ll be fine. Now, just remember to look available but slightly disinterested—no one likes a pushy sex worker,” the informant said, giving her own long sequined dress a tug over well-built calves and clearing her husky voice a bit. “Work those pretty faces, and remember than you’ve got me and Amber right nearby.”
“Great,” morgan grumbled. “You’re sure about this?”
“Oh, definitely,” Emily said, waving a little as she stepped into the surveillance booth with Hotch and Rossi. “Our little unsub is gonna upendo you…you both look great.”
“I swear, if she snaps one picture of us in these getups…”
“You can lock her in a closet and I’ll get her posing nude for Hugh Hefner,” morgan promised. “In fact, that’s not a bad idea…”
“First things first, though.”
“Right. We’ve got working girls to save.” Sighing, the pair balanced precariously on their stilettos and headed for the street.
There was only this part, if she sasisho more, I will post them here as well. :)
No way.”
“There’s no one else.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I couldn’t be zaidi serious if I told wewe that the fate of the free world depended on this—which, incidentally, it kinda does.”
“Emily, come on. I take it back.”
The agent smiled an impish sort of grin. “Not so funny now, is it?”
“Come on.”
“Oh, quit complaining. You’ll have company. Look, there he comes.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Emily stood in front of her colleague, passively checking that his hair was straight and his outfit were suitable. “Reid, wewe look great. Where’d wewe get the clothes?”
“Roxie over there borrowed them to me.” The agent grimaced. “You do realize I have enough trouble with prostitutes?”
“Prostitutes upendo you, Reid. Why do wewe think wewe got picked for this?”
“Because we made fun of wewe that time in Atlanta?”
Emily shook her head. “That’s just a bonus.” The grin on her face widened.
“Oh, there wewe are,” a tall woman alisema as she walked over, dragging a reluctant morgan in tow. “Took forever to get this one ready, it did.”
“Aww,” Emily snickered, taking a look at their informant’s handiwork. “You two look simply gorgeous.”
“I’m gonna need a mwezi off after this,” morgan grumbled, trying to adjust his skirt, upindo and high heels.
“You’ll be fine. Now, just remember to look available but slightly disinterested—no one likes a pushy sex worker,” the informant said, giving her own long sequined dress a tug over well-built calves and clearing her husky voice a bit. “Work those pretty faces, and remember than you’ve got me and Amber right nearby.”
“Great,” morgan grumbled. “You’re sure about this?”
“Oh, definitely,” Emily said, waving a little as she stepped into the surveillance booth with Hotch and Rossi. “Our little unsub is gonna upendo you…you both look great.”
“I swear, if she snaps one picture of us in these getups…”
“You can lock her in a closet and I’ll get her posing nude for Hugh Hefner,” morgan promised. “In fact, that’s not a bad idea…”
“First things first, though.”
“Right. We’ve got working girls to save.” Sighing, the pair balanced precariously on their stilettos and headed for the street.