Fic: Stranger Things (In Plain Sight/Fringe crossover)
I'm exceedingly pleased that this crossover worked.
Title: Stranger Things
Author: Mack the Spoon
Pairings/Characters: M/M partnership/friendship, implied Peter/Olivia. Also starring is Walter, with cameos from Stan and Broyles.
Rating: Probably PG-13 for mild language and peril.
Summary: In Plain Sight/Fringe crossover. The building where one of Mary's witnesses lives begins experiencing strange phenomena. Who you gonna call? Marshall reckons there may be some FBI agents who have some ideas about how to make her witness safe again.
Spoilers: For IPS, general S3 spoilers (but sans Faber). For Fringe, “6B”.
Author's Note: No special knowledge of Fringe is necessary to read this, as both our marshals are getting a bit of an intro, themselves. If you don't know IPS, you should know that Mary and Marshall are partners who work in Witness Protection, and they're darn good at it. More knowledge of the show might be helpful, but is probably not necessary.
**Additionally, please note - IPS confuses me with its inconsistency about when Mary & Marshall would and would not use their aliases, so if you notice weirdness there in my story, that's why. I apologize!
And one last note - I own neither of these shows, nor their respective characters.
~~~~~~~
Mary blinked and stared, pausing in the process of grabbing her jacket. “You wanna run that by me again?”
Marshall picked his up and continued moving toward the door. “You heard me.”
“I heard you say something about possible ghost activity in my witness' building, but even you couldn't believe something as dumb as that,” she said, catching up to him.
He sighed. “Well, whatever it was, it was serious enough that one of Ashley Stuart's neighbors called the police. So let's save the argument about paranormal phenomena for the way to the scene, shall we?”
“Sure,” Mary muttered, “but I bet we're just going to find some kook who watches too many X-Files reruns.”
Marshall looked pained as he got into the passenger seat. “Are we pretending that you didn't enjoy The X-Files now? I specifically heard you laugh a few times while we were watching the other night.”
“While you were forcing me to watch,” Mary corrected. Then she rolled her eyes as he went on looking miffed. “Fine, I'll admit David Whatshisname is easy on the eyes.”
Marshall shook his head, opened his mouth, and then appeared to give up. They completed the rest of the trip in what might almost be termed a companionable silence. When they arrived, Mary lost no time in finding the lead officer on the scene. “Mary Shepherd with the US Marshals. Can you tell me what's going on here?”
The officer paused briefly, looking unsure. “Possible break-in or trespassing, we're thinking, although it's a weird one. At first we even had reports of an earthquake, but those are unconfirmed.” He looked at her. “Any particular reason why the Marshals are here?”
“Just being neighborly,” Mary said brightly, and pushed past him into the building.
Marshall followed, giving the main an apologetic glance. “Don't worry, Officer - Walker,” he said, reading the man's name badge. “We'll try to stay out of your way.”
Another uniformed cop was making his way down the hall toward them as Mary and Marshall headed to Ashley Stuart's apartment. His name badge identified him as Officer Kim. “So, what kind of trespassing are we looking at here, Officer?” Mary asked, showing her badge. When he didn't reply immediately, she added, “It's all right, we already talked to your partner.”
“Well then, you know this is freaky stuff,” the man said. “I mean, lights flashing, weird noises, voices, rumbling, the whole bit.”
Mary traded a look with Marshall, who spoke up. “Signs of forced entry to the building?”
“Not really,” the man admitted. “That's part of why it's so weird.”
“Who called it in?” Marshall asked.
“Guy in apartment one twenty-two,” Kim said, gesturing behind him. “We didn't get a lot out of him, though. He just said this has happened a couple times now, in the evenings. I don't think there's much of a case here.” He frowned. “I don't think we need the Marshals-”
“Thanks,” Mary broke in. “We'll see what we can find out, anyway.” She stood until he shook his head and left. “He's right, though. Lights flashing and weird noises, huh? It's not exactly a new building. That could be anything. What are we doing here? Why does anybody care?” But she went to Ashley's door and knocked before Marshall could answer.
Her witness opened the door. “Hi, Mary. Hey, Marshall. What are you guys doing here?” she wondered, unintentionally echoing Mary. “Is everything all right?”
“It looks like it, but may we come in?” Marshall asked.
Once inside, they explained about the police call. “So the question is, are you all right? Has there been anything suspicious going on, other than the... whatever happened tonight?” said Mary.
“I'm fine,” Ashley said quickly. “Uh, yeah, nothing suspicious. The lights and stuff was weird. And the shaking was a little scary, but they said it wasn't an earthquake and everyone's all right. It's not bothering me. Really.”
Mary narrowed her eyes. “You're sure you're fine? Because just last week you were telling me you didn't think you could do this, and you were too lonely, and it was too much.”
Something like a smile flashed across her witness' face. “No, I know. But it's... better now. I think I'll be okay.”
Mary stared at her for another long moment. “All right, if you say so. Well, you know the drill: let me know if you think, even for just a second, that anyone from your old life has recognized you, or if you think of anything suspicious at all.”
“And remember we have counselors we can recommend to you,” Marshall added gently, though this was an offer she had refused more than once.
“I know,” was her only answer. “Uh, thanks for checking up on me. I'll see you later.”
“Yeah,” said Mary, and turned to go. “Have a nice night.”
In the hallway, Mary frowned at her partner. “That is the weirdest thing I've heard this evening. Not even your ghost stuff compares. Ashley Stuart - who didn't think she could live without her sister, much less start a new life - is suddenly fine? Not that I'm complaining that she might not be calling me to whine anymore, but still.”
“Normally, I might take issue with your undying pessimism about other people's happiness, but it does seem farfetched for her to have suddenly gotten over her grief in the space of another week,” Marshall agreed.
“Anyway, I guess we should talk to this neighbor before we leave,” Mary said, turning her mind from Ashley's suspicious behavior to the reason they had come in the first place.
“Apartment one twenty-two,” Marshall reminded them.
Mr. George Van Allen, source of the police call, was a little confused as to why he needed to tell his story again, but accepted their thin explanation without further question. “I guess if the Feds know about this stuff, maybe one of you guys will actually do something about it.”
“We'll take whatever action we can,” Marshall said seriously, while Mary restrained herself from snorting.
“Good. Anyway, what happened was sort of like a couple nights ago,” he began.
“How about you start with the earliest incident and then go forward from there,” Marshall put in.
“All right. So, Tuesday night, I was just thinking about what to do for dinner. I remember I had been wanting to try takeout from a restaurant my buddy told me about, so I picked up the card he gave me and went to my phone, when suddenly the lights start flickering. At first I think, well, it's just a windstorm or something, but then I hear a voice speak right next to me, even though I know there was no one there!”
“That is certainly odd,” Marshall said. “So what happened next?”
“Well, I turned around to look and I said, 'Who's there?'” Van Allen's voice became more animated with the memory. “And I swear there was a shape there, like the shadow of somebody. I tell you, it freaked me out. But then I blinked and it was gone. I don't know, maybe I was imagining that. I thought I heard someone answer when I spoke, too, although I couldn't tell you what they said.”
“Ooookay. What about tonight?” Mary asked, arms crossed.
“Almost the same time, just after 5:00,” George said. “I had already started water boiling for dinner, when all the power and lights flickered again. This time, there was this rumbling and the whole place shook like an earthquake. One of my pictures fell off the wall - see?” He pointed to where a frame rested against the wall, glass cracked. “But when I called the police, no one knew what I was talking about, said they hadn't got any other reports of an earthquake. I'm not the only one who felt it, though. The others on this floor that I've talked to felt it, too.”
“What about the voice or the shadow? Did anything like that happen again?” said Marshall.
“No voice this time, but I could swear I heard someone moving around in my front room right around the time the shaking started. I heard footsteps.” He shrugged. “I know it sounds a little crazy. Hey, this building's old, though, right? I'm starting to think it's haunted or something.”
“Who knows?” was Marshall's even, noncommittal reply.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Well, that is quite a story, Mr. Van Allen. Thanks for your time.”
“You guys going to be able to do something about it?” he asked, walking with them to the door.
“Yeah, don't count-” Mary started to say.
Marshall broke in hurriedly. “I promise we'll let you know if any information comes to light. Thank you for taking the time to speak to us, Mr. Van Allen. Good night.” Mary allowed him to usher her out the door ahead of him.
~~~~~~
After lunch the next day, Mary happened to look over Marshall's shoulder to see that he was reading something online about an investigation into a possibly haunted building in Brooklyn. “Seriously? Where do you find this stuff, Marshall?”
“I'll have you know, I'm mostly an agnostic when it comes to paranormal phenomena,” said Marshall primly. “Nevertheless, I find it beneficial to stay informed. I get news alerts for any time 'this stuff' appears in the news or someone blogs about it on a public site.”
Mary huffed out a breath. “I guess it would be some kind of sign of the End Times if you were uninformed about something.”
Marshall grinned. “You know you love it.”
“It's what I live for,” Mary said. “So, what's up with this New York haunting? Anything normal people would have any reason to care about?”
Ignoring the jab, he scrolled through the article. “There aren't a whole lot of details here. The building in question had been getting reports of voices, things appearing and disappearing - and then several people attending a party at one of the apartments died under mysterious circumstances. It was eventually ruled accidental, it looks like, but no satisfactory cause was found. The FBI investigated, and shortly after -” he scrolled down - “there was some kind of small earthquake centered around just that building, and then it suddenly all stopped.”
“Good, so maybe all the weird stuff at Ashley's place will just stop, too,” Mary remarked. Then she leaned in to look at Marshall's screen. “Wait, hold on a second.” She went to her computer for a moment and opened a file. “That 'haunted' building in New York was in Brooklyn?”
“That's right,” said Marshall. “Why do you ask?”
“How far is it from Brooklyn to Poughkeepsie?”
Understanding began to dawn in Marshall's eyes. “Ashley Stuart is from Poughkeepsie, isn't she?”
“Exactly,” Mary said.
“Well, let's see,” Marshall said, bringing up a New York map on his screen. “They're about... seventy miles away from each other.”
Mary frowned. “If all those things actually happened in that place in Brooklyn, that can't be a coincidence, can it?”
Marshall gave a nod. “I'm inclined to agree, except we still don't have any idea what is going on, so it's difficult to speculate. I wonder...” He looked back on his monitor. “Maybe we should get in touch with these FBI agents from the Brooklyn case.”
“And say what? Ask if they know the Ghostbusters?” Mary said. She sighed. “I mean, it does look like this could be some kind of security risk, but I'd rather not have to deal with the FBI if we don't have to.”
“What's your suggestion, then? Because I don't think it's responsible to do nothing.”
“Oh, don't give me that, Marshall. I know how to be responsible about my witness,” she snapped. “And to prove it, I was just going to suggest we do a stakeout this evening, to see what we can see at Ashley Stuart's building. Happy?”
“Thrilled,” Marshall replied. “And for the record, that wasn't a dig at your ability to do your job.”
“Yeah, fine. Good. Let's go. We don't want to miss the show,” said Mary.
Marshall followed, giving a little sigh of his own.
~~~~~~~
Mary glanced at her watch, slumping back in her seat when she learned that only two minutes had passed since she last checked. “I almost forgot how much I hate sitting around doing nothing.”
“I didn't,” said Marshall. “I'd suggest we pass the time by playing Twenty Questions or some other such game, but I haven't forgotten how much you hate that, either.”
She snorted. “Good call.”
“If it helps at all, according to Mr. Van Allen, if anything is going to happen, we shouldn't have much longer to wait. It's 5:01 now,” he pointed out.
Mary shifted again in her seat. “Hmph. And that's if anything is actually going to happen.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Which would mean my witness isn't safe, which isn't something I actually want.”
“It is a bit of a conundrum,” Marshall agreed.
“Was that on your word of the day calendar this morning?” Mary asked, shooting him a look.
“Actually, it was 'afflatus', which means-” Marshall began, but was interrupted by a low rumbling. “I think this is it.”
Though they could see the building begin to shake, and the rumbling continue, it didn't seem to be spreading even as far as where they were parked. Mary watched, mystified. “This is bizarre.” She shook her head and said, “I'm gonna call Ashley, see what's going on.” She dialed and waited. And waited some more, then swore and hung up. “She's not answering. Let's go.”
They moved in carefully. The going became more dangerous as they entered the building, although the shaking was not intense enough to cause them to lose their balance. “This is exactly what we're not supposed to do in an earthquake,” Marshall said, almost too quietly to be heard over the noise of the rumbling and the raised voices of the occupants of the building.
“What, look for someone?” Mary wondered, putting her hand against the wall.
“Move around at all,” said Marshall.
“Well, we have to see how Ashley is. And besides, if we don't talk to her, we get nothing except confirmation that there's been a weirdly small earthquake,” Mary said. “But I'll do my best not to get hit by falling chandeliers or anything, as long as you do the same.”
Marshall gave a smile that was more like a grimace. “Yeah. Let's hope we can confirm Ashley's safety soon, though.” By this time, they were in the right part of the hall. “Stay close to the walls, just in case.” He stumbled, as if in answer to his own words. The lights started to flicker.
“Hell yes,” said Mary. “I'd like to get out of this uninjured. I'd like everyone to get out of this uninjured.”
“What's going on?” they heard a voice shout. “Why the hell is this happening again?”
There was a crash from the apartment nearest to them. “Is everyone all right in there?” Marshall called.
“Yeah,” was the reply. “I think so. Just some stuff falling.”
“Have I mentioned how this is nuts?” Mary asked her partner.
Before he could answer, there was a shriek from another room. Mary went as quickly as she could to that door. “Are you okay? What happened?”
At first there was no sound to be heard over the din. But after a moment, the door opened and a wide-eyed older woman looked out. “I - I thought I saw someone in my house,” she stammered. “I couldn't see him clearly. But when I swung my frying pan at him, he disappeared right in front of my eyes!”
“All right, please stay inside under something solid like a table until this over, ma'am,” said Marshall. “If we see any strange man, we'll take care of him.” The door closed. “'Nuts' sounds about right,” he added to Mary.
Finally, they reached Ashley's door and knocked. “Ashley? It's Mary and Marshall!” Mary said loudly. “Are you all right?”
There was no answer for a moment, and Mary pounded even louder. “Ashley! Let us in!”
She raised her hand to knock again, but Marshall grabbed it. “I think she's coming.”
Sure enough, the door opened. Ashley stood there, frowning. “Why are you here?”
“Geez, hello to you, too,” Mary snapped. “You didn't answer your phone and your apartment complex is its own little earthquake center.”
“The technical term is 'epicenter',” Marshall put in helpfully, earning him a glare from both women.
“Anyway,” Mary went on, “you want to let us in?”
“I'm fine, isn't that good enough?” Ashley insisted.
“You wouldn't be hiding anything you shouldn't be, would you?” Mary asked.
Ashley sighed. Suddenly, the shaking stopped and the lights came back to normal. For a moment, the young woman looked truly furious, but then she opened the door. “Fine. Come in. I have nothing to hide.” She closed the door behind the marshals. “I'm not breaking any rules. I just... wanted to be left alone for the evening.” She wiped a hand across her cheek.
Mary walked around the living room and the kitchen quickly, seeing no immediate evidence of any dangerous connections to Ashley's past life. “All right. Maybe you're not doing anything stupid. Except not answering a phone call from the agent assigned to keep you safe? That is stupid, Ashley. What if I'd been calling to tell you about a threat to your life?”
Ashley nodded, still clearly annoyed. “Yeah, I got it. It won't happen again, Mary.”
“It better not,” Mary said. “And what's up with this craziness at your apartment? I'm seriously thinking we should move you.”
“No!” Ashley said quickly, eyes widening.
Mary raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“She - I mean, I... I just got settled in here. I like it here,” she said.
“What exactly do you like about it? Does the feel of the earth moving lull you to sleep or something?” Mary asked incredulously. “The weird voices and shadows and the flashing lights give you a warm fuzzy feeling?”
Mary was positive Ashley Stuart looked guilty about something, much as she would have liked to hope otherwise. “No, it's just... I'm used to living here now. It's not so bad.”
“Are you sure you're not in contact with someone from home? No emails? No phone calls?”
“I'm not. I swear,” she said, still looking uncomfortable. “I know how important it is.”
There was a pause. “Okay. I'll take your word on that for now, since I don't have any other choice. I still think if all these disturbances continue, we're going to have to move you,” Mary said. “I don't want to uproot you again. I know that's tough. But you can't be safe in a building that might be falling down who knows when, and it's our job to keep you safe.”
Marshall spoke. “We can try to do our best to keep you in the neighborhood, so you can still use the same grocery stores, catch most of the same buses, that kind of thing. I know how important a routine is for being settled in a new place.”
Ashley nodded. “I guess, if we have to, I'd appreciate that.” Her tone was not exactly appreciative.
“All right. We're not going to force you to pack a bag this minute,” said Mary. “I mean, it seems to have stopped for tonight, anyway. But I think we have to start looking into it.” There was another small pause. “Good night, Ashley. And you know to call if you need us, right?”
“I know. See you guys,” she said in a subdued voice.
As they made their way back out, everything seemed calm in the building. Mary wondered if the police might have been called again, and decided she'd rather not be there, if they were. “That was... I don't know how this could get any more complicated, but I'm sure Ashley was hiding something.”
They exited. “Yeah,” said Marshall. “And I think we have enough to ask the FBI agents who worked on that New York case for an assist.”
~~~~~~
After his inspectors had explained the situation to him, Stan agreed that any help they could get from the FBI agents might be appreciated. “We need to get this sorted out as soon as we can. Marshall, you have a contact number for these guys?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, “but I have a friend in the NYPD who might be able to get it for me.”
“When did you make a friend in the NYPD?” Mary asked.
“If you must know, we knew each other in college,” Marshall said.
“Anyway,” Stan said, breaking in before Mary could continue to pursue the idea, “call him up, Marshall. Let's get on top of this.”
Marshall went back to his desk and dialed the number. “Hey, Frank, it's Marshall. How are you doing? And how's Sarah? Glad to hear it. Yeah, sorry, I know it's a little late there. I have a question relating to a case here.” There was a pause, and he chuckled. “Yes, you're right about that. Anyway, do you know anything about a case the FBI checked out in Brooklyn just a little over a week ago?” He explained the details, and there was another pause. “There's something similar happening here. Can't go into any more details, but we thought- Yes, could you? That would be great. Thanks, Frank. Talk to you later.”
“And?” Mary said immediately.
“Well, he doesn't know right this instant, but he said he'd find out.”
“Great,” said Mary. “In the meantime, I'm dying for something to eat. You're buying.”
“Of course,” sighed Marshall. “But I'm choosing, too.”
~~~~~~
When Marshall's phone rang as they were finishing up, he took it out of his pocket and frowned.
“What? Who is it?”
“It's not Frank. I don't recognize the number. Well, I guess he could be using an office phone, or something.” He answered. “Marshall Miller.”
“Inspector Marshall Mann?” an unfamiliar male voice asked.
“Who is this?” Marshall countered.
“This is Special Agent Philip Broyles, head of the Fringe division. I was told you requested information about one of our cases?”
Marshall blinked. “I've never heard of the Fringe division, but I'm looking into a case that was reported to have been investigated by the FBI about ten days ago. Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York - bizarre occurrences and several mysterious deaths, then unexplained seismological activity in the area?”
After a moment, Broyles replied, “My team did investigate that case. What is it you want to know?”
“Well, Agent Broyles, something similar appears to be happening here in Albuquerque. My partner and I were hoping to consult with the investigators on the Brooklyn case,” Marshall said.
“And why are the Marshals interested?”
“Suffice it to say that we are, and it's imperative we get some answers. If this truly is similar to your situation, it would seem that lives are at stake,” Marshall said. “Isn't that correct?”
“Inspector Mann, I'll speak to the rest of my team. You're right that this could be very serious,” said Broyles. “Can you email me office the details of your case?”
“I'll send you what we've observed,” Marshall said. He grabbed a pen and a napkin. “What's the address?” The man gave it. “All right. Thank you, Agent Broyles.” He hung up and turned to Mary. “As I'm sure you've guessed, that wasn't Frank.”
She snorted. “No, really?” She stood. “But it sounds like we might actually get some answers out of this?”
“We might,” said Marshall, also standing. “This Agent Broyles didn't sound like the most forthcoming, friendly sort, but he did seem to want to do something about this.”
“Good,” said Mary.
~~~~~~
Most of a normal day's work passed before there was much in the way of a development in the Ashley Stuart case. Notably, both Stan and Marshall got another call from Agent Broyles, who said he was sending his team as soon as they could get there. He promised to liaise with the Albuquerque FBI office to avoid unnecessary complications, and told them to look forward to his team's arrival that afternoon.
“And that team is a Dr. Walter Bishop, a scientist, his son Peter Bishop, and Special Agent Olivia Dunham of the FBI,” added Marshall after he had passed on this info.
“Wait, only one of them is actually a federal agent?” Mary asked. “Great. Civilians. That's going to make our secrecy issue even more of an issue.”
“Well, if they are a part of this team, they're probably at least a bit used to knowing things they can't tell their friends,” Marshall pointed out.
“I guess,” Mary said. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I cannot begin to imagine working with my mother every day.”
Marshall shuddered lightly. “Thankfully that's even less likely than me working with my father.”
“Yeah,” said Mary. “Anyway, can't say I'm looking forward to this, but I guess whatever works.” She paused. “And you said they're called the 'Fringe' division? What kind of name is that?”
Marshall considered. “I would hazard a guess that it refers to fringe science, which is scientific inquiry in a field that is outside more regular or mainstream ideas.”
She frowned. “So, what, these guys are into the occult and hypnosis and stuff? Great.”
“Not exactly,” he said. “That's more pseudoscience - although I will remind you that what we saw and heard described at Ashley's apartment did not sound unlike something to do with ghosts or poltergeists.” Mary rolled her eyes, but he continued. “Fringe science is generally considered to be possible, simply unproven.”
“Unproven, huh?” Her eyes narrowed. “Hold on a second. These guys are Mulder and Scully, aren't they? Unbelievable.”
He grinned. “Why, Mary Shannon! You made that connection before I did!”
She groaned, putting her head in her hands. “This is entirely your fault. You're going to turn me into a nerd!”
He giggled. “You've discovered my evil plan!”
She threw a paper clip at him, and there the matter rested until the Fringe team themselves arrived after lunch. They had rented a car, and called ahead to inform the office that they were on their way. Marshall jumped up to let them in, greeting first a man who must have been in his sixties, followed by a younger man and a woman who looked to be closer to the inspectors' ages. “You must be Dr. Bishop. I'm Inspector Marshall Mann. Welcome to Albuquerque.”
“Oh, thank you, Inspector,” said Dr. Bishop. “I must say, it was an interesting flight. You see, I haven't had much recent experience flying. This time, the security screening was especially-”
“Let's not get into that here, Walter,” interrupted the younger man with an expression that warred between amusement and annoyance. He turned to Marshall, extending a hand to shake his. “Inspector. Peter Bishop. And this is Agent Olivia Dunham.”
The tall blonde woman stepped forward, also shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you. And this must be your partner, Inspector Shannon?”
Mary shook her hand. “Yeah, nice to meet you all.” She had noticed that Peter Bishop referred to his father by the man's first name, and couldn't help wondering if the two of them might not suffer from a similarly “close” relationship as she had with her mother. She shook herself mentally, while Stan came forward to introduce himself, as well. When that was done, Mary spoke again. “So, I guess our crazy case here must not seem so out of the ordinary for you guys.”
“In general, no,” Agent Dunham admitted, with a small, almost pained smile, “but if what's happening here is like what we saw in Brooklyn, it's still quite a rare thing.”
“Thankfully,” added Dr. Bishop. “I wish it were even rarer. This is not supposed to be happening anywhere else.”
Mary exchanged a confused glance with her partner. “And what does that mean, exactly?”
“Unfortunately, what Dr. Bishop is referring to is classified,” Agent Dunham said. “But I can tell you that we haven't had any reports like yours from anywhere except New York.”
Mary frowned. “Great. Classified. Well, this is going to be a barrel of laughs.”
Marshall stepped in. “Anyway, I guess you should see the location for yourselves. We can take you.”
“Oh, no, we'd better follow in our car,” said Dr. Bishop. “I've brought some scientific equipment with me, and it's a bit bulky to transport.”
“We can call Astrid when we get there,” said the younger Bishop. “Let her know to start monitoring from the lab.”
“Who's Astrid?” Mary asked, as they walked out.
“My assistant,” Dr. Bishop explained. “She wanted to come, but it's better we have someone back in my lab to monitor the seismic and barometric readings I'll be sending back.”
More and more nonplussed, Mary was uncharacteristically silent as they got into their separate cars. Finally, she burst out, “What the hell did we get ourselves into, Marshall?”
He paused before answering. “I honestly don't know, Mer. But I think they know what they're doing. And you did admit we need help on this one.”
“Yeah, but if neither side can speak freely, it's going to end up like we're all using some kind of code!”
“Well, we'll just have to brush up on our cryptography, then,” was Marshall's response.
She stared at him, then sighed. “Whatever. We can start by figuring out how to explain why we're focused on Ashley Stuart.”