Disclaimer: Do not own

Sequel to Adept Series 10 - The Stain.

For Noelle & Victoria.

—

"It could be worse," Special Agent Lincoln Lee announced as Chloe slipped into his car and closed the door behind her.

"How so?" She wanted to know as she buckled herself in and grabbed the steaming cup of coffee waiting for her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replied quickly before merging back into traffic. "I'm just saying, it could be Jared."

Chloe made a face as she sipped the warm beverage. She didn't know whether she agreed with Lincoln to be honest. Either way, catching a team member naked with another team member was awkward as hell, yes, but when the other team member had her face? Well, at least it let her know that Coyote hadn't been lying to her.

"Talking about Jared, he's going to be elated," Lincoln muttered."I thought he kind of had a crush on Tess?" Chloe asked in surprise.

"No, he just has a thing for anyone who wears a mini skirt, but he's definitely the kind of guy to forget all that in the face of Tesanne… Teanne? Tea?" He made a face. "What are we calling them?"

"How about Tess and Anne?"

"You have no imagination," he mourned.

She chuckled as she leaned back against the seat and aimed the hot air at her face, which was far too cold for comfort. "Can we not think about any of this for now? I mean, I'm kind of traumatized here."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Chloe covered her face with her free hand. "I don't know if I can look into their eyes after having accidentally seen what's under their clothes! Whenever I visit dad and Anne from now on I'm making A LOT of noise to make sure I don't EVER walk in on anything like that ever again!"

Lincoln eased into traffic and reached out to pat her head comfortingly. "There there."

She scrunched up her nose in reluctant amusement as she sipped her coffee in an effort to warm herself quicker. "Thank you. That makes it all better."

"I know. It's a gift." Returning his full attention to the road, Lincoln tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Dean called earlier to gleefully report that Sam's still traumatized after having to deal with their first Wombat Eel."

"They're so ugly." Chloe pulled a face. "Are the boys still pissy about the psych eval in two days?"

"Yep." Lincoln, of course, was grinning as he said this. He was in charge of most aspects of "Project Nomad", he wasn't supposed to be, not at first, but after the first two weeks of Chloe spreading herself thin between the (still unsolved) Tarot Murders, Project Nomad, Project Wonderland (figuring how to get Anne back to her timeline), and all the other cases popping up, Lincoln had forced her to give him the reins to Project Nomad. His precise words had been: "Do you have a death wish?". He'd also forced her to delegate primary responsibility of research on the Tarot Murders to Anne, had (easily, apparently) convinced Vance to lend them McGee part-time to assist her, and had somehow gotten Tess working the new cases that were popping up with them. "But, like I told them before, this is a condition set by the President himself. They have to receive mandatory psychiatric evaluations every couple of months. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Relieved at the fact that she didn't have to directly handle the boys' (or their father's) annoyance, Chloe chuckled, yet the sound choked as her nose began to bleed.

"Glove box." Lincoln hurriedly directed her towards it.

Opening it, Chloe yanked out the kleenex box and pulled out some tissue, which she brought to her nose. "You always have Kleenex everywhere."

"Yeah, well, it's not like it's not going to get used," he muttered under his breath.

She sent him a side glance. "You're still annoyed with me, aren't you?"

"What could ever give you that idea?" He mumbled.

She eyed his fingers, which were basically banging on the steering wheel now. "Oh, no reason."

They stopped at a stop light and he took the opportunity to turn his suddenly unhappy gaze on her. "Do you want to die? I'm serious! Do you want to die?"

"No," she assured him for what felt like the hundredth time. "It's not my fault that I haven't met John Scott yet - he's been undercover on an assignment for crying out loud!"

"There are other options, he's just the one Peter picked," Lincoln informed her with a glare at the stained Kleenex. "Given the fact that option number five isn't working out, we need to broaden the search."

"Do you have someone you want me to go on a Compatibility Test with?" She asked curiously, because it sounded like he might.

Lincoln pursed his lips, clearly hesitant. "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed since his tone indicated that she wasn't going to be happy with his choice. "Who is it?"

He took in a deep breath. "Dean Winchester. Or Sam Winchester. Hell, even John Winchester! At this point I'm not really picky."

"Lincoln!" She groaned in utter frustration. "I've already told you—!"

"You told me we met Dean in some alternate universe and that that version of you had a child with him, and that Coyote said you, Sam and Dean were incredibly compatible." He reminded her of the night she'd gotten accidentally drunk and spilled sooooo much to him. "So why in the world are you not considering either as a potential candidate?"

"Because I don't feel it's appropriate! They're my very junior subordinates at work!" She nearly threw her hands in the air yet stopped herself seconds before she could accidentally splash her hot coffee all over the place. "It's like, harassment - sexual harassment! I've told you this before! I don't want to talk to you about this again!"

"Yeah? Well I don't want to see you dead! So deal with it!" He snapped back at her.

Her eyes widened as she pressed back against the seat. This was the first time Lincoln had ever yelled at her, and she felt, ridiculously enough, like a kid being scolded by an authoritative presence.

He groaned and covered his eyes with his face as he let out a deep, stuttered breath. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"The light's green," she noted softly.

Lincoln let his hand fall and put the car in drive once more. "Has Peter gotten in contact with you yet?"

"No. He hasn't. Not since the last time you asked." She scrunched up the bloodied Kleenex and shoved it into her jacket's pocket. "Peter's free now, Lincoln. I don't think we're going to hear from him again."

"I doubt that," Lincoln mumbled under his breath as he took a right. "I'm worried about you."

"I know." She did, and she appreciated it.

"Look, Dean and Sam are going to be coming in for their psyche eval," Lincoln sighed. "Just—give it a chance. Please."

Chloe stared at his face, at the worry there, and was floored to realize just how stressed he was about this. Sure, she knew he worried, but she'd never really thought he'd be this up in arms about it. "Okay. Fine. When Sam and Dean come in I'll test my Compatibility with the both of them. How about that?"

A small smile tilted his lips as he sent her a quick sideways glance. "Really? You'll do that? Really do that? Give it a fair chance?"

"Yes father," she chuckled softly, much like a teenager being coerced to do something she didn't want to. "I'll test them both. Happy?"

He grinned brightly. "Maybe."

Chloe took a long sip of her coffee to keep from grinning as well.

—

Leon Vance, Director of NCIS, stared down Special Agent Philip Broyles and contemplated what was being brought to him. While Chloe's "Fringe Division" was technically not under his jurisdiction, and she answered straight to the President and his innermost circle (most prominently the Secretary of Defense), she was working out of NCIS' headquarters. Plus, she came to him for advice, and he usually brought her the cases as they were sent to him (although this was slowly being rerouted to the cases being sent directly to her cases). Still, though, he still had to be considered important, an overseer, if Agent Broyles was coming to him.

"The Pattern." Vance raised an eyebrow as he eyed the man curiously.

"It's what the select few of us who are in the know refer to the strange happenings," Agent Broyles informed him. "We'd been tasked with an overt mission of identifying, investigating, and solving the expanding number of science-related crimes witnessed over the past few years."

"This is not a science lab, Agent Broyles," Vance announced as he tapped his fingertips together. "Nor are we scientists. We cannot help you."

"Maybe not NCIS, no," the other man agreed calmly. "But Special Agent Gibbs' special task force - I believe it is called the Fringe Division - can." He reached into his pocket and slid across proof of his high security clearance. "In too many of the cases we'd taken interest in, we'd found our access to the crime scene blocked, and our clearance level rejected. We thought we had an all-clear so to realize there was another team playing the same game but with better connections… we grew intrigued." He sighed. "Despite many times denying that the Fringe Division even existed, the Secretary of Defense finally told me the truth today."

"And why would he do that?" Vance wanted to know.

"Because at 0800 hours an airplane arrived at Boston's Logan Airport. It landed on autopilot, and there were no communications from the plane to the tower, no immediate signs of life within, and what we've discovered on board…" Broyles hesitated before he sighed. "The Secretary of Defense agrees with me in that it would be in the Nation's best interest for my task force, and the Fringe Division, to work together on this one."

Vance's phone rang.

"That will be someone from the Secretary of Defense's office to verify my story," Broyles replied.

Eyes narrowed on Special Agent Philip Broyles, Vance reached over and answered the phone.

—

"Ma'am," Tess began the second Chloe and Lincoln arrived. "I have to apologize for my unprofessional behavior. I'm here to work, to protect you, and I want you to know that my… arrangement with Anne will in no way compromise my mission."

"Should I even be here for this conversation?" Lincoln's voice squeaked, eyes wide in horror. He visibly wanted to be told he was being excused, but if Chloe had to suffer through this so did he. Plus, Tess did not seem to care that she was airing her business in front of him, so—.

"I know it is unorthodox, and you must feel oddly considering who and what Anne is to you—," Tess continued.

Chloe raised her hand to stop the redhead. "Honestly? You're both adults. Is it weird for me? Yes. Can I handle it? Also, yes." She finally met Tess' gaze, although that seemed to be a fight for the both of them given they were both mortified. "Just, uhm, lock the bedroom door next time… and I'll start knocking from now own."

Tess' lips twitched as she nodded. "I can accept that compromise."

Chloe knew this was none of her business, and yet she couldn't help it as she leaned in closer, voice lowered. "You know she has to go back to her reality, right?"

Tess' smile dropped for a second before she nodded. "Yes ma'am, she and I had discussed the situation before… engaging." She cleared her throat after having said that last word. "It's been mutually agreed that this is just, uh, fun. Nothing serious."

How in the world had things gotten to the point where she was discussing her alternate self's sex life with her friends with benefits? "Uhm, yeah, uh, good."

Lincoln looked like he wanted to pat Chloe's head consolingly once more.

A part of her wished he would, anything to distract from this moment and this conversation.

"Yes ma'am."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Chloe?" The blonde raised an eyebrow.

Tess grinned. "It's hard to break a habit."

"Just, uh, try?"

"CHLOE!" Anne yelled as she flung open the Fringe Division's office door, looking very much flustered. "You need to get your butt in here."

"What's going on?" Chloe asked as she hurried to the alternate version of herself, but once she got close enough she saw that Vance and Jared were inside, but they were not alone. A man she'd never met before stood with a rigidity that screamed MILITARY. Her father, and most of the people she worked with, had this posture, one she couldn't hope to replicate. In fact, Anne and Peter (while he'd been here) were the only ones other than herself who didn't carry themselves in this manner.

"Chloe." Vance's expression was highly unhappy, which put her on the alert. "Meet Special Agent Philip Broyles. He leads a small task force that is, in his words, dedicated to identifying, investigating, and solving science-related crimes."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Special Agent Gibbs," Broyles held out his hand and shook hers with a very firm grip.

"Science-related crimes?" Chloe instead asked curiously. "Like, mad scientists running around wrecking havoc or, uh, quantum physics going awry?"

Broyles eyed her for a second before answering. "It's a little bit of both, actually."

"Fascinating." Chloe's eyes were wide. "You must have an interesting job."

"You say that as if we don't," Anne muttered as she joined Tess and a very silent, very blank-faced Jared.

There was a knock on the door.

"That will be my agent," Broyles announced.

Tess opened the door to reveal… Agent John Scott.

Chloe's eyes widened as she stared at him. Really? He was working in the Scientific Anomaly Division (she wasn't sure what it's name was, but she was calling it that). She turned to look quickly at Lincoln to gauge his response, and his eyebrows were raised in obvious surprise. His gaze shifted onto her, those blues clearly asking if she could believe this, and when she shook her head subtly he bit back a a snort as he returned his attention to Agent John Scott.

"Special Agent Gibbs, this is Agent John Scott." Broyles introduced. "John, this is Special Agent Gibbs and her team."

Chloe accepted the hand John held out to her, and shook it. Had Peter known about John's 'undercover mission'? Was that why he'd singled him out as a candidate? So far so good, her skin hadn't crawled upon contact. That was always promising. Her gaze lowered to their hands and her gaze fell upon the faded ring of color around her finger which still linked her to Peter. Like always, she wondered whether he was okay. But, like always, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on the situation, and the people, on hand.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." John flashed her a large smile. "Although, I'll have to admit, I've been annoyed with your team given the fact that they've case-blocked us more times than I like to remember." He chuckled he looked her up and down. "How old exactly are you, Special Agent Gibbs? This seems like a big responsibility for someone so young and unexperienced."

"John," Broyles warned.

Slipping her hand free, Chloe raised an eyebrow at Agent Scott. He might've been smiling, but the amusement hadn't quite made it to his eyes. One step forwards, two steps backwards. "Well, rest assured, Special Agent, that in any case in which the President and the Secretary of Defense deemed us the better fit, we not only met their expectations, we exceeded them, which is why we still maintain a higher clearance level than you do. Also, I believe it is common knowledge that it is rude to ask a woman her age. It would be like me commenting on your crows feet, the smudge of lipstick on your collar, the nauseating female perfume stuck to your clothes, or the hint of alcohol in your breath despite it not even being lunchtime as yet. It just isn't done as it isn't professional, and in this vocation we are nothing but."

Jared did his very best to hide he snicker under the guise of a cough.

Tess and Anne exchanged surprised looks.

Broyles had a dead-ass blank expression on his face.

Vance? Vance was absolutely grinning for like two seconds before he schooled his face into neutrality.

Lincoln closed his eyes tightly and breathed out in despair. He very visibly was trying to keep from face palming himself.

John hitched up an eyebrow as he began to subtly wipe at his shirt's collar, no doubt to get rid of the evidence of a previous rendezvous. "I didn't mean to be rude. I merely meant to—."

She didn't know what he'd 'merely meant to', because at that moment her vision of his face blurred as information began to pop up between them, as if on a holographic computer screen. What had triggered this data upload? What was going on? This was different and a little disconcerting.

A buzzing sounded in her ear, drowning out every sound and leaving her in a perpetual state of white noise. She didn't care, it helped her to concentrate on the weird occurrence. What was going on? Windows popped up and minimized and logged out at random. Information clogged the screen before disappearing and starting again. It almost seemed like she was… glitching.

How do I manually restart this?

She clicked links, flicked other windows to the 'closed' side to try and close them, but as much as she got rid of more and more opened.

It took her three full tries of this before she suddenly realized she'd see the same picture repeat in each try. She tapped it and used her fingers to pull it larger in front of her, and when she did her heart sunk into her stomach. Panic suffocated her, it was hard to breathe, and she immediately turned to look for Peter, and yet, he wasn't here. He'd left. That alone made her panic harder as she slowly turned around only to suddenly find that this holographic screen completely encircled her. She wasn't able to see anything around her that wasn't that screen with that information.

Peter!

She tried to scream that name but found that nothing would slip passed her lips. Not a sound. Not even a whisper.

Chloe's hand raised to her throat.

PETER!

Something touched her and terror filled her as she twirled around and punched. She hit her mark, her knuckles hurt. But she couldn't tell what it was, those screens were becoming more and more solid, leaving it near impossible to see passed them.

Help me! she begged, screamed in her mind since her mouth wouldn't utter a word. Please, help me!

Suddenly something warm surrounded her. She didn't know what it was, unlike the previous one, this touch didn't fill her with terror. It was comforting, it was firm but if she wanted to she could break free. Chloe pressed her face into the warmth and practiced her breathing. Slowly but surely the information windows began closing themselves off, and remained closed. No new windows popped up on screen, no new info accessed. A few windows remained active though, and Chloe shifted so her chin was resting on the warmth, but her eyes were able to take in the remaining windows.

And then she saw it.

Green eyes widened as she gripped the source of warmth and turned to it… to find herself staring up into Lincoln's worried face. Her eyes widened even further to realize he was holding her, his arms around her body, his shirt and jacket covered in what was apparently her blood. "I'll get that dry cleaned," she promised him.

"What happened?"

Movement in the corner of her eyes caused her to catch a glimpse of John holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose. Apparently that was what she'd punched. Great. As if this whole Compatibility Test hadn't already been going down the drain before the physical assault! "Anne, initiate Code: Princess pink."

"Princess pink?" Anne stuttered, and hastily began to look in her bag when Chloe confirmed.

"What sort of code is 'Princess pink'?" John wanted to know… seconds before Anne blew a handful of bright, glittery pink dust all over him. He erupted into coughs while trying to wave his hands around him… but not only couldn't he remove the glittery pink dust… it revealed something hidden to the naked eye. There was something wafting off of him, like a gas almost, but the gas itself formed sigils in the air.

"No way, he's been hexed?!" Jared squeaked as he reached back and pushed aside a picture on the wall only to flip the light switch behind it. Immediately the room went dark before the black lights in the room came on, and when they did it showed what Chloe had hoped it wouldn't. Special Agent John Scott was covered in hexes.

"What the hell is this?" John asked as he looked all over his hands at the hex sigils.

"Who did you see before you came here? Who were you with?" Chloe turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Who does the lipstick belong to? Was it a guy or girl?"

"A girl!" John Scott snapped. "Of course it's a girl!"

"Guys wear lipstick too you know, and they pull it off," Tess informed him in annoyance.

John Scott turned to look at her in horrified confusion.

"You sure it was a woman?" Chloe asked.

"Yes!" He snarled.

Eliminating the males on the screen, Chloe watched the information and windows get closer together now that there were less of them. "We can eliminate the witches who do not have this sort of power. He got into this room. Passed the wards. That's some strong anti-detection wards."

"Director Vance, Special Agent Broyles, we need you to step into this area in here. It's protected and you'll be able to observe what is happening safely." Lincoln pressed a button and the supply closet glowed, revealing several protection wards hidden from sight up until that moment. As he led the two men towards the protected area, he turned to the others. "Tess, start the lockdown, we need to make sure that the effects of these hexes are localized on Special Agent Scott, and that he hasn't trailed it throughout the whole damned building!"

Pain began to build in Chloe's forehead.

"You say that as if I did this on purpose!" John Scott snapped as he pointed a hex-ridden finger at Lincoln.

"Anne, work along with Chloe," Lincoln instructed, completely ignoring the other man. "We can't see what she's seeing, so work with the database we have so far and get us a visual so we're not in the dark. It's not half as full of information as hers is, but it's better than nothing."

"Yes sir!" Anne scrambled towards the adjacent computer room.

Chloe pressed the heel of her palm against her head to try and subdue the pain.

"Jared—-," Lincoln turned towards his friend.

"Already on it!" Jared circled around John Scott, phone out, recording the different hex symbols covering the man's body. "Hold your arms out and stay still. I need to map out every single hex that's visible on you to be able to run it through our Index."

"Index?" Agent Broyles could be heard asking Director Vance.

"I don't know what the Secretary has told you about the Fringe Division," Director Vance admitted gruffly. "But suffice to say Special Agents Gibbs is a veritable trove of arcane information, which we've been trying to compile in our own database. We haven't even managed to get 1% of it down, but it's still a very good start so that she does not have to compute them on her own."

"Compute?" Agent Broyles picked up on that one word.

John Scott doubled in front of Chloe, and it was only when he became one once more that Chloe realized he hadn't actually split into two people - but her vision was giving her problems. She blinked rapidly, desperately, John Scott once more split into two in front of her only to return to one. The room slowly circled, like a slowing down carousel, upsetting her stomach, which only added to her growing discomfort as the pain in her head grew.

Nausea grew in her stomach, bubbling. She pressed her free hand to her stomach, hoping to quell the storm, when suddenly it made it so much worse.

Chloe bent over, unable to stop the bile that rose from her stomach and spewed from her lips.

And yet… it didn't hit the ground. Instead, she found herself gripping the side of the paper waste bin, a hand holding it tightly in place and getting splattered with bile. Embarrassment made her even sicker yet she couldn't stop herself as her body expelled the breakfast she'd had, and the coffee Lincoln had brought her earlier.

A warm hand rubbed circles against her back.

"Just let it out," Lincoln whispered as he leaned in closer.

She tasted metallic seconds before her knees gave out on her and everything went black.

—

"Lift the damned quarantine long enough for me to get through!"

Lincoln Lee was man enough to admit that Special Agent Gibbs Sr terrified him to no end. Not only was he Chloe's very overprotective father, but he was widely respected, had quite the notorious reputation, and his eyes told Lincoln that he'd gotten away with things no other Special Agent would've been able to. There was also no doubt in Lincoln's mind that when it came to Chloe - and Anne - Special Agent Gibbs Sr would murder in cold blood, no regrets. He knew that it was far from the smartest thing to get between the scary man and his daughter, especially when her section of the building was in lockdown and Anne had been careless enough to actually call and report Chloe's condition to their father.

And yet that was what he was in the middle of doing. He should probably start preparations for his own funeral, huh? Gibbs would no doubt murder him the second the lockdown was lifted.

"No." Lincoln took in a deep breath as he stared at the video call, at the furious expression on the man's face. "I'm sorry, Gibbs, I get that you're worried about her, but these are her rules. The hexes seem to not have infected the rest of the building, they only activated and started to spread once the infected individual came in contact with Chloe. We have to keep him, and everyone else here, in quarantine until either the hexes are removed or neutralized."

"Listen here Lincoln," Gibbs snarled. "My daughter is dying. She—."

"No she is not." Lincoln glared at the man and then cleared his throat as he breathed in and out to calm himself. "Respectfully, sir, your daughter is too pigheaded to die. She's merely resting right now."

"The bond is breaking!" Gibbs snapped. "This is it! If you don't let me—!"

"This isn't it. When the bond between her and Lionel Luthor was absolutely breaking events happened, such as the barrier which came down over her and Peter." Lincoln pushed his glasses up higher the bridge of his nose. "She's pushing herself too hard, too fast, and she's weakening it, but it's still there."

"I need to be with her." Gibbs' voice was softer but not the fire in his eyes.

"I understand, sir, and I wish I could lift the lockdown for you, I really do." Lincoln let out a stuttered breath. "But Chloe drilled into us what we were to do should a situation like this occur, and while you terrify me, I respect her wishes and expertise on this subject more." He took in a deep breath, almost scared to meet Gibbs' gaze. "Since she's unable to make sure that her rules are being enforced, I have to do so in her stead. And so, no matter how much you terrify me, you won't scare me into betraying your daughter like that. Sir." He gulped and forced himself to finally meet Gibbs' gaze.

The man was silent.

Pensive.

Oh god - Gibbs was planning his murder!

Gibbs gaze burned into his. "Don't let my daughter die in there, Lincoln."

"Of course not, sir."

The man looked older than he actually was as he sighed and lowered his head. "What can I do on this side to help?"

Unable to believe that Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was actually backing down, Lincoln cleared his throat as he hurriedly answered. "Can you get Sam and Dean Winchester in quicker? Chloe's bond isn't on its last at this moment, but it's definitely on the out. She needs to find a new Bonder, even if only another temporary one."

"What about Special Agent Scott?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"How did you know he was here?" Lincoln squeaked.

"Anne informed me the second he came into the room," Gibbs replied. "I got a text that read 'OMG! Alt!Daddy! Number 5 is here!'"

Lincoln ran a hand over his face. "He's the one who brought in the hexes which caused the lockdown." He peered through his fingers. "And, to be honest, even if he hadn't I don't think they're going to work out."

"How can you be so sure?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"He insulted her, she insulted him - and not in an Unresolved Sexual Tension kind of way - and then she clocked him. She might've broken his nose." Lincoln sighed heavily in memory of that.

"So… Sam and Dean?" Gibbs sounded unimpressed as he leaned towards the camera. "Are they really the next best thing?"

"They're strong Alpha Males. Sam's smart - he might be able to understand her Chloespeak, and Dean is definitely hardy enough to handle her physical challenges. Between the two of them one should hopefully prove adequate." Lincoln didn't know whether to tell this man that his daughter had hooked up with these men multiple times already - or, well, alternate versions of her had hooked up with alternate versions of them - and that there were alt!grandchildren fathered by both of them out there.

At the silence, Lincoln turned to find Gibbs staring at him in his blank, totally terrifying way.

"No one else?" Gibbs wanted to know. "Just John's sons?"

Lincoln made a face. Was this about that whole weird thing Gibbs and John had between them? Where they were friends yet seemed highly competitive? Honestly? Should that even matter right now?

"Forget I asked," Gibbs sighed and turned off the communication, obviously going to get Sam and Dean.

Lincoln eyed the now black screen. "Goodbye to you too, sir."

"Wow," a voice sniggered behind him. "You actually stood up to him."

Lincoln glanced over his shoulder and found Jared leaning in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. "Shouldn't you be—."

"I've uploaded the video of the runes into the system, it's running the check, I'll get a notification once it's processed them." Jared pushed away from the wall and closed the door behind him as he entered the room, separating them from the others. "Someone in their organization is a snitch."

"What?" Lincoln turned to fully face him.

"Oh come on," Jared snorted. "Frat boy over there coincidentally arrives with hexes that only trigger with contact from Chloe? The timing's too perfect for a last minute, covert meeting. Either he's in on it, or someone in his team is working for someone else with an interest in the Adept. Because the chances of some woman who is completely unrelated knowing that he was coming to see Chloe now is very unlikely."

"But there's the chance that that's exactly what happened," Lincoln reminded before he groaned. "Still, your theory isn't without merit."

Jared opened his mouth and closed it before he sighed. "It's not just this, I don't like this. This whole thing. Their group and ours being brought together, I…" He ran his hand down the back of his head.

"Well, there's been no reason to feel good about this given everything."

"You don't get it," Jared muttered as he turned to Lincoln. "I worked in the Strategies Department, okay? I know our government's strategies, and this? This is one! This isn't a team-up! This is a take-over." He pointed to the other side of the room. "These people are being brought in, phased in, we're being merged."

Lincoln pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But Chloe isn't the Adept of Fringe Science."

"Maybe not technically, but she might as well be the Adept of Fringe everything," Jared responded immediately. "They're bringing in Oversight, Linc. Mark my words. Things are going to change here. And not for the better."

"Let's just focus on the issues at hand, okay?" Lincoln wasn't dismissing Jared's worries though, they were just going to be put in the 'deal with tomorrow' pile. Right now they had a lockdown, a hexed agent, and an unconscious Chloe to deal with. "Once we've gotten this dealt with we can start asking questions."

Jared nodded. "And when we do, I've got a list of them."

—

TBC