A/N: Hello all! I was just checking out the WH13 crossover section and noticed a distinct lack of Fringe/WH13 stuff. So...I set out to change that. NOW THEN, down to business. This hasn't been beta'd so apologies in advance for spelling mistakes. This is relatively spoiler free. You don't need to be caught up in either series to understand what happens in this fic. But, for folks who are particular about things such as continuity...
WH13 Timeline: Takes place between end of season 2 and beginning of 3.
Fringe Timeline: Takes place sometime in season 1.
Dislcaimer: I don't own Fringe or Warehouse 13.
Farnsworths and Frankenberry:
"This is…weird." Claudia mutters quietly to Pete as she stands, stiff and tense, beside him. He's the professional one, the actual agent. She assumes he'd be all calm and collected. But he's just as freaked as she is.
He turns his head slightly towards her and whispers back, "What tipped you off, Sherlock? The cow in the corner, or the dead body on the lab table?"
"The cow," she retorts. Pete doesn't laugh. Instead, he's got a kind of queasy look on his face.
She doesn't blame him.
The whole place screams 'Dr. Frankenstein,' what with all of the equipment, the jars filled with questionable liquids and gelatinous masses, and oh yeah, the cadaver. The only thing keeping it from going over into horror film territory is the fact that it's in Harvard's basement. And actually, Claudia thinks to herself, it looks a lot like Joshua's old lab. Minus the stiffs and bovines, obviously.
"But that isn't what I meant," Claudia tells him after a moment or two of more anxious silence. "Well, kinda what I meant. Not exactly but mostly and—"
"You're having an Artie moment," Pete warns her.
"Right, sorry. Yes, the cow is weird…but what's weirder is snagging an artifact from a living person."
Pete's about to agree, and admit he has no idea as to how to proceed, but the doors open behind them. Both jump slightly, and try to look like serious government agents, and not guilty intruders. Pete has mild success, thanks to his suit. Claudia does not, thanks to her Converse sneakers and Levi jeans.
"Uh," the woman at the door says, looking very confused. "Can I…help you?"
"Agent Pete Lattimer," Pete spits out the familiar mantra as fast as he whips out his badge. "Secret Service." The woman nods, but still looks like she doesn't understand. She eyes Claudia questioningly. Pete notices. "And this is…uh…Junior Agent Claudia Donovan."
Junior Agent. Claudia wants to punch him, but decides to wait until they're back at the Warehouse.
"Oh. Alright." The woman still looks confused. She steps into the lab and lets the door shut behind her. She's about Claudia's height, with dark skin and short, curly hair. She's got a paper bag full of what looks to be groceries in her arms. The words are out of Pete's mouth before he can even think to stop them.
"Is that Frankenberry cereal?" he asks. The woman raises her eyebrows somewhat, and Claudia's about ready to kick Pete in the shin, but the initial look of surprise fades to a warm smile.
"Walt—Dr. Bishop is something of a foodie," she explains. "If you let me put this down, I could pour you a bowl—"
"Yes," Pete says with feeling. "I would love that." The woman's warm smile turns into a full on grin as she motions for them to follow her to the lab floor. Pete's prior queasiness vanishes in an instant as he hurries after her, but not before shooting an apologetic look at a very-ticked Claudia.
Who's the Junior Agent, again?
The woman puts the bag of groceries on a lab table that, to Pete and Claudia's minds, is a little too close to the dead guy on the slab. The woman doesn't seem to even acknowledge the cadaver. Nor does it seem get in the way of her dishing up the Frankenberry.
"Can I get you a bowl, Agent Donovan?" The woman refers to her as an agent, in spite of what Pete said. Claudia decides she likes her.
"Oh, no thanks," she tells her, reflexively eyeing the corpse. The woman nods. She understands.
She hands off a bowl to Pete and he digs in, offering his own thanks around a mouth full of cereal. The woman finishes up stowing the groceries, and then turns her attention to the agents.
"So…" she says, facing them. "The Secret Service." She lets the statement hang, assuming they'll explain their presence. Claudia looks expectantly at Pete, but he's still chowing down on the Halloween-themed cereal. She rolls her eyes and realizes she'll have to do the talking.
"We're actually here to see Dr. Bishop," Claudia tells her. The woman doesn't say anything. An encouragement for Claudia to continue. The teen blinks, and stammers for words, as she's still not so comfortable on the 'people' part of cases. She coughs slightly, and wishes Pete would stop eating long enough to step in and be the Senior Agent. She consults the small notepad she's taken to carrying on assignments. "It's about a…an incident he was involved in some time ago…in the seventies and—" She looks up from the scribbled notes. "Are you…Agent Dunham?"
"No." the woman shakes her head. "I'm Astrid," she says, and adds, "Agent Astrid Farnsworth."
Pete stops chewing. Claudia stares.
"Farnsworth?" they both chorus. Cereal crumbs fly out of Pete's mouth. The woman nods, and once again has that confused expression on her face.
"…Yes…." She says slowly.
Pete nearly chokes as he asks, "No relation to…to Philo Farnsworth, I'm assuming…" Astrid blinks.
"Well, actually—"
The lab door bangs open, and all three nearly leap out of their skin. Pete spills some milk.
"Aspen!" an older gentleman cries as he bounds into the lab. "Did you get the Frankenberry?"
"Yes Walter." Astrid sounds exasperated. Claudia and Pete turn their stares from Astrid to the newcomer. He looks positively giddy at the prospect of the cereal. His weathered face is stretched into a broad grin, his curly grey hair slightly windblown, no doubt from his hurried entry.
This is Dr. Walter Bishop?
"Oh, I didn't realize we had company," he says, only after he's inspected the brightly colored box. He extends a hand to Claudia. "I'm sorry dear. I'm Dr. Bishop."
"Claudia Donovan," the girl's voice cracks slightly. She clears her throat. "Secret Service."
"The Secret Service?" If it's at all possible, his grin gets wider. "Is the President in town? My, that would be exciting. You know, I once managed to get my hands on some of Jimmy Carter's DNA. Fascinating, actually. Did you know he—"
"Walter, you're scaring them," Astrid tells him. Dr. Bishop pauses briefly, and nods.
"Yes, quite right." He eyes the cereal, and then Pete. "Ah, yes…I see you share my love of Frankenberry !" Pete glances up from his bowl, his mouth full.
"Mmf…mmssh?" he tries to speak, but he only manages to accomplish spraying more crumbs in Astrid's direction. Dr. Bishop frowns and looks at Claudia.
"Hmm, yes…once your friend finishes masticating—" Pete looks offended.
"Mmfgh!" Claudia rolls her eyes.
"It means 'to chew' Pete," she explains. Astrid laughs. Dr. Bishop looks a little confused, but shrugs it off. He turns to Astrid.
"Pete and Olivia are coming with the bodies. I would've gone with them, but the cereal…" he gestures at the bowl in front of him, a kind of helpless expression on his face. Like the draw of sugary breakfast foods just proved too much for him. Then again, Claudia thinks as she looks at Pete, wouldn't surprise me if it did.
Pete, thankfully, finishes chewing and steps back into agent mode.
"Bodies?" he asks.
"Yes!" Walter exclaims. "Dead bodies with a strange, crustacean-like abscess found on the side of the neck that could be parasitic in nature and—"
Pete and Claudia must look a little disturbed, because Astrid shakes her head and offers an apologetic smile.
"Try not to think too much about it," she advises. The Warehouse agents nod.
"Right." They agree in unison. Dr. Bishop contentedly munches on his cereal as Astrid fills him in.
"These agents were just saying that they were investigating an old…incident that occurred in one of your labs. Sometime in the seventies? Do you remember anything like that, Walter?"
The old man puts on a contemplative look. A small smile spreads on his face, and an expression akin to nostalgia appears.
"Yes…I vaguely recall that. Of course, I can't remember if that was the gamma radiation episode or the debacle with the chimpanzee."
Claudia can't help it. She gives a sharp laugh, mostly in disbelief. She doesn't know what she expected…maybe a colder, more analytical mad scientist. Dr. Bishop has the 'mad' part down…quite literally. But he's more like a funny old grandfather than the Dr. Doomsday type.
"Why is the Secret Service interested?" Dr. Bishop wants to know. He spoons more cereal into his mouth and chews noisily, his eyes on the two of them.
"We're currently involved in another investigation. The incident came up…we thought we'd check it out." Pete gives a dry, sanitized version of the real story, which is actually much more complicated and a heck of a lot more confidential.
"Well, alright." Dr. Bishop shrugs. "I'm not sure I'll be of much help…my mind isn't what it used to be…" he looks sad all of a sudden. "Seventeen years in a mental institution certainly doesn't help."
Claudia stiffens a little. Her grip on the pen tightens. She's pretty sure Pete notices…maybe Astrid too. But her partner is kind enough not to draw attention to it. He coughs to clear the air.
"Ahem…I understand, Dr. Bishop…but actually, we're just here for your turntable."
"The record player?" Astrid asks. She sounds more than a little surprised. Dr. Bishop's eyebrows jump up his forehead.
"Why, whatever for?"
"It was listed as a piece of evidence from the incident in 1978. We'd like to…examine it again." Claudia wishes Artie had given them something more to go off of than the crud Pete tells them. It's so paper-thin that it's embarrassing.
But then, they've never really dealt with this kind of thing before, so…
"Well I…I don't wish to impede your investigation, of course…but my turntable is quite dear to me." He places his bow of cereal gently on the lab table. "I find that music stimulates the blood flow to the brain, and often helps me think!" he points a finger skywards to emphasize his point. "Nothing is more inspiring than Vivaldi as you try to reanimate dead tissue—"
Pete's eyes widen. Claudia knows what he's thinking:
Walter really is Dr. Frankenstein.
Astrid gives a nervous laugh.
"Uh, Walter," she starts. "I think the agents just want to look at it for a bit. I don't think they want to…to keep it." She looks at them. "Right?"
"Right." They say. A lie.
"We're just going to take it back for…investigation." Pete says. "Then we uh…then we…bring it back."
"Yep. Bring it back." Claudia helps him out.
Dr. Bishop looks a little skeptical, but he eventually nods.
"Well, alright…if it will help with your investigation," he stands from his stool and heads off into the office at the back of the lab. The door doesn't shut behind him, and they can hear his rummaging as he begins his search.
"He really listens to music while he…uh…works?" Claudia again eyes the dead body. Astrid nods.
"That's pretty mundane, actually. He once had me make taffy in here while he was working on some kind of weird tumor—" she sees Claudia's face, and decides to cut her statement short. "…Yes. He listens to music."
"Just a moment, agents! Trying to find the blasted thing. It was in here this morning…!" he shouts from the office. Astrid sighs.
"Under the desk, Walter!"
"…Thank you, my dear!" the sounds of rummaging lessen considerably.
"So you help him out?" Pete wants to know. Astrid nods. "You must see some weird stuff. What do you guys do, exactly?" He gestures to the lab. Astrid clears her throat.
"Ehem…I'm not at liberty to say…"
"Ah, classified. Got it." Pete nods stiffly. Claudia smirks. She can tell he's miffed—he's the one who usually gets to say stuff like that. He's never been on the receiving end before. "Uh, hey…could I trouble you for a bowl to go?"
"Pete!" Claudia says and once again has to refrain from kicking his shin. God, she can see why Myka's always punching him.
"Oh, my son's name is Peter!" Dr. Bishop rejoins them, the turntable in his arms. "It's too bad; he and Agent Dunham stayed behind with the bodies...I'm sure they would've loved to meet some Secret Service agents." He hands the device off to Pete. He accepts it, but not without a surprised grunt at the weight of the thing.
"Yeah…hnf…too bad," he mutters as an afterthought. He's too focused on keeping a grip on the record player.
"Well, I guess that's it," Claudia tells them after a few seconds of awkward silence. "We should have the record player back in a few days."
"Excellent," Dr. Bishop says. "In the meantime, perhaps I'll acquaint myself with these pods I've been hearing so much about."
"Pods?" Pete echoes with a questioning tone. Astrid translates.
"I think he means iPods."
"Ah." They nod.
"Well, better get this old boy out to the rental," Pete declares, turning towards the door. Dr. Bishop trails after.
"Now, just so you know, it's a little touchy. Forty-fives work best, of course, but I've experimented with some seventy-fives and—"
"Uh, thanks Dr. Bishop, but we aren't going to be playing anything on it, we're just—"
"The sound quality is best if you direct it towards the south east, as it's fine-tuned specifically for—"
"Walter!" Astrid calls after him, ready to intervene, but they're already out the door and down the hall, still bickering back and forth. Astrid looks at her. "I'm sorry. Walter's…well…"
"It's okay," Claudia assures her. "No big. My boss is the same way."
"Oh, I doubt it." Astrid insists. Claudia merely nods, as she's not about to begin the 'no-trust-me-my-boss-is-crazier' contest. And actually, from what she's seen…Astrid might be correct in her assertion.
"Well, anyways…thank you, Agent Farnsworth." She extends her hand, and knows at the back of her mind that she'll totally be hacking FBI databases later to find out if she is, in fact, related somehow to Philo.
Astrid takes her hand, gives it a firm shake.
"Anytime, Agent Donovan." she adds, "And technically it's Junior Agent Farnsworth."
Claudia looks at her, wondering if the woman is messing with her. But Astrid offers a warm wink and a genuine grin, and Claudia knows she's being serious.
"Thanks," she says again, this time with feeling. "I—"
"Claudia!"
"-Apparently have to go." She blurts in a rush, responding to Pete's forlorn cry from out in the hall. "Later."
"Bye!" Astrid says. She hurries out to save Pete from Dr. Bishop, but not before sneaking a glance at some scattered paperwork on the table. She hopes to get some info, so she knows what databases to hack into. She grins as she heads for the door. She managed to catch a glimpse of the letterhead, and now she knows where to start.
Fringe Division.
xxx
Well, there ya have it! This probably won't continue, but I'm contemplating a longer, multichapter Fringe/Warehouse 13 fic. If you think that's a good idea, please feel free to review! Or maybe you think that's the worst idea you've ever heard: still feel free to review! Can you tell I'm scrounging for reviews? XD