Well, this is a first Fringe thing for me.

I really need the reviews for this chapter, because I'm not sure if I should continue in first person, or move into third, or have a bit of both. So any comments are really appreciated.

Everything shall be explained.

Ah, it's an old joke, but no infringement intended.

New Girl In Town

How I got here, freezing my suited ass off in sub-zero Boston, attempting to drone out my new, stoic supervisor Philip Broyles, will always escape me.

One day, I'm sunning it up, being a normal cop in D.C, and the next, I'm being dragged up the coast to Massachusetts to meet some woman, a crazy scientist and his son.

I swear, it's beginning to sound like the Adam's family, the way Phil talks about it.

The pack I've been given hangs heavy, choc-a-block with case files, photographs, and other little trinkets to make you all-out disturbed. I thought I'd seen it all when it came to grisly murders, but apparently not.

I shift my briefcase into my other hand, swiping at a loose lock of my famed auburn hair, and tucking it behind my ear.

Suddenly, we reach a double door, and I'm completely unaware of how long we've been walking.

"I have a meeting, but of you explain your situation to Agent Dunham, she will introduce you to the team."

What exactly is my situation?

"Yes sir."

Wow, somehow that came out normal.

Pushing the door open, I get a whiff of something putrid, and throw an arm up over my mouth and nose, shouted a muffled greeting.

No response.

I brave moving my arm, to shout a 'hello' strangled by the attack on my senses.

A silver haired man bobs up from beneath a table, large blue eyes wide beneath safety glasses.

His aged face breaks out into a huge grin as he waves enthusiastically and begins to approach me, tripping over a vast amount of machinery on the way.

"Hello!" He cries, seemingly unaffected by the stench.

Three voices chorus from the other side of the room, and the corresponding faces appear from behind a screen, and yes, they are armed with masks.

"Walter?"

Thank God it wasn't just me. For a moment I thought something was seriously wrong.

I smile and take the oldest man's hand in a firm shake. "I'm looking for Agent Olivia Dunham?"

"Here."

A tall, blond haired woman stalks purposefully forward, and if she hadn't been wearing a paper mask, splattered with what looked like fruit, I might have been intimidated.

Well- maybe I am a little. Her gaze seemed softer than it should have been, almost amused, but I could tell she could probably kill me with a look.

Maim if anything.

"How about we step outside?"

Sounds like a plan.

Back into the cold, bitter air of mid-winter, she sighs and smiles sweetly as she takes my hand. Another woman followed her out, who I presumed to be Agent Astrid Farnsworth.

What a name.

"Are you the agent from D.C?" Olivia asks me, removing her mask.

"Yes, Agent Louise Mitchell." I pause, unsure of how to phrase my question. "Broyles said you would explain everything, though I must admit," I motion to the pack, "pictures do tell a thousand words."

They offer a wry smile each, and the double doors reopen and a man emerges.

"Hi." He smiles, holding out a hand. "Peter Bishop."

Well, at least it's a good looking freak show.

"Welcome to Fringe division."

So- any comments?