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Abby was small compared to most who worked in the force. Short, and easily underestimated. The ordinary beat cops had it worst when it came to gender discrimination; Abby rarely put up with sexist remarks as a detective, and since she specialized in Violent Crimes, not a day passed that something violent wasn't going on. Only this time, she had supernaturals to worry about, not just bad humans. Something was out there attacking and destroying the community that her baby sister was essentially a part of. Just because these people were different didn't mean they weren't innocent. The news hadn't gone quiet about these incidences and Abby had been working hard on trying to figure out who and what were behind these crimes. She couldn't linger on old and simpler times anymore, not with the present being the way it was. Two years ago a huge event had taken place, in which she and a group of extraordinarily gifted individuals had to find survivors within a dangerously collapsing building. 

 

In most cases, Homicide and the FBI were on the scene. Abby knew she had to be there, even if the current Chief didn't quite agree. She was as stubborn as they came, a Brooklyn kid through and through. 

 

To relieve all the tension that'd been building her back, Abby was spending her late night at the gym, after a day of cracking cold cases. She wished it'd been beer, but her devotion to her job had her hard at work. Margie was worried about how much sleep Abby was getting, but sleep wasn't exactly important to Abby. Too many things were going on, and since she didn't want Ghost to worry either, she had them spend the evening together while she hit the gym. 

 

Her tiny fists balled and bandaged up, she started first with shadow boxing in the corner. At this time, it was quiet and Abby was pretty happy to indulge herself. The gym was often packed in the mornings and afternoons, so coming in this late gave her the silence and space she needed without anyone disrupting her. She threw sharp clean jabs, counting 200 for each arms. Her muscles began screaming at her after a hundred since it'd been a while, but she kept going, the sweat forming across her forehead and between her shoulder blades. Abby only wore a black sportsbra, and navy blue spandex that clung to her waist and ended at her ankles. Tiny feet were fit in swift all black Nikes that allowed her quick pivots as she continued her jabs. Dark chestnut hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that swung back and forth with her quick movements, large eyes focused on an invisible opponent. 

 

When the 200 finally came along, she added a couple more jabs over and bounced lightly in place from one foot to the other to keep her heart going. Suddenly ceasing activity wasn't good, and while her muscles burned she started shaking out them out before balling them back again. She counted to three - right jab, left, then pivot with the hip for a strong finish with her right. 

 

200 more, and Abby wasn't going to stop until she was utterly exhausted. It didn't matter that she had an early morning tomorrow. She wanted to clear her mind, get rid of that tension, so that she could focus.

 

 

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