The Doctor had been flying the TARDIS through the time vortex, where he was headed he wasn't sure yet, when he heard a strange beeping coming from one of the monitors. He ran over to and found a disturbing surprise. According to the monitor, some sort of cargo was being transported to Manhattan, viva a teleport system Earth shouldn't have in the 21th century. "Something's defiantly wrong here." He thought to himself."I should probly pop in and see what's going on. Doesn't Martha live in New York now? Maybe I should stop by, see if she knows anything about this." And he began to part the TARDIS.

Meanwhile, actually in Manhattan, Neal Caffrey, unaware of the important part he and his friends would play in our story, knocked on an antique shop door, then anxiously stood back on his heels, recalling the conversation he had with Peter only minutes before in the van.

"Would you acting so nervous?" Neal had asked Peter as he slipped the watch on the former's wrist."You're making me nervous, so I'm gonna be nervous when I go in, and then I'm gonna slipped up and be tortured to death by a sociopathic Irish woman."

Peter grabbed Neal's wrist tightly, shook him a little, and looked him, strait in the eye, saying, "Hey, don't even joke, okay?" He'd seen the pictures of the remains of the last agent that had been sent under cover, or rather what they found of him. O'Ryan was vicious, she didn't just kill the man, she destroyed him. A part of a leg, and three fingers, that's all they found. And those had been covered in cigarette burns and it looked as if the leg had been torn from its socket. And they still had no clue how she found him out. "This is the most dangerous person we've ever investigated, bar none."

"Who's joking?" Neal had also seen the pictures. And one of the agents originally on the case, on hearing someone else was being sent undercover, fall to her knees and start praying for the safety of whoever they sent in, her whole body trembling. "At least everyone else is considerate event to act like they're not already thinking about what to do with my remains, amusing you find some."

Peter let go of Neal and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, nobody's thinking about that. Just-"He tumbled for words. He hated the feeling of not knowing what to say. "Be careful. I mean really careful. I mean walking through a minefield with no clue where the bombs are careful. Get what we to take her down as quickly as you can."

"Now that," Neal, walking towards the door, "I can do."

Now Neal waited for the violent fence to answer the door, now starting to worry again. It had been two minute since he had knocked on the door, and he was convinced it was because she had already found out he wasn't really an expert in unusual antiquities, and was preparing an inquisition rack for him, and buying a new pack of Camels. Just then the door opened, and a pale-skinned woman with dark brown hair done up in some kind of bun, and dark brown eyes, poked out her head. "You're the guy Vance sent, yeah?" She asked in a tick Irish accent.

The Vance she was referring was to Vance Hardwick, a smuggler they had made a deal with in order to get Neal in. O'Ryan only worked with people refaced to her by associates. "Yes, mum," Neal replied, extending his hand to shake. "Nate Carolla, antiquities expert."

"Not out here, you bloody idiot." The woman, who Neal assumed was Anna O'Ryan, said, very annoyed, grabbing him, and pulling him into the building. "Vance told me you were discreet."She continued, walking away from him. "How is that discreet?! Just yelling your name and occupation out in the middle of the blooming street!" She turned around, and looked at Neal as if she was just noticing him for the first time. "A bit overdressed for a first meeting, aren't you, Nate?"

Neal looked down at himself. He had to emit a his suit and tie did seem a bit out of place when the only other person in the room, O'Ryan, was wearing a light red flannel shirt, and khaki slacks. "No one told me the meeting was going to be so informal, Mrs. O'Ryan."

"Oh, well," O'Ryan said, looking up at the sealing, nonchalantly," I suppose it doesn't matter, anyway. Now, before anything else happens, there's someone you have to meet." As if on some sort of cue, the door behind her opened, and out came a willowy young girl, about 14 maybe, well-tanned with long blonde hair done up in a neat braid that rain down her back, and inky blue eyes. She smelled of lavender and rose water. For some reason she seemed sort of familiar, but Neal couldn't place her, and he hoped he didn't seem familiar to her.

O'Ryan, walking over to the girl said, "This is Marie-Grace. She's my-apprentice, of sorts."

"An apprentice," Neal said quizzically, "For a fence?"

"I know it seems a little unorthodox, Mr. Carolla, but I assure you, I have-good reasons. You see, Marie-Grace here has a special- talent, of sorts." She said, stroking Marie-Grace's hair. "She can get a sort of-feel for people. Learn about them, learn their- secrets." She started to walk away from the girl, and towards Neal. "Without them ever uttering a single word." She gestured for Marie-Grace to fallow, and Marie-Grace was quickly at her side. "Marie dear, this is Nate Carolla, the antiquities expert Vance told me about. The one who specializes in-unusual artifacts." She looked to him, and then looked back at Marie-Grace. "Do you need me to leave the room?"

"Yes, mum," The girl said, "That would be best."

"Wait," Neal said, thoroughly in a state of I- don't-understand-would-somebody-please-explain-to-me-what's –going –on puzzlement, "Best for what?"

"For checking you out of course," O'Ryan said as she turned to leave, "Making sure you are who you say you are." And with that she walked away, went into the back room, and shut the door behind her, leaving Neal alone with the strange child. "So," the girl said, walking around him with a strange, palpable air of malice surrounding her, "That was best they could come up with? Nate Carolla? You were better off with your actual name." Neal felt a thrill of fear and kick of anger, as he realized why she looked familiar. Fear because he was sure she would tell O'Ryan who he was. Anger because, frankly, his pride took a beating that day, a week earlier. She had somewhat changed her appearance, with the tan, and the blue contacts covering her eyes' natural bright green color, and even her body structure changed somehow, but Neal was sure it was her.

He was certain it was the girl who had picked his pocket the previous week.

To understand the connection we have to go back to the incident. Neal and Peter had been walking to headquarters, going over the file for the O'Ryan case when suddenly out of nowhere a panicked female voice cried out, "Help me! Somebody please help me!" Then out of nowhere, thought it was probly from somewhere across the street, a young girl with long blonde hair flying wilding and bright green eyes opened wide, came flying up to the men and grabbed on to Neal, causing the file to fall from his hand, and said desperately, "Help me! Please! You have to help me! It's horrible, it's just it's so horrible, I can't even describe it!"

"Miss clam, down," Neal said, trying pull himself away from her. Peter tried to pull her off, but to no avail, all the while she screamed about something horrible happening, and somebody please help her. Then, as soon as she had started, she became clam, and went limp in Peter's arm. "What's going on? " She asked, looking around. It was then; it occurred to the men that she might not be sane. "You came up going on about needing help and something horrible happening." Neal said, wondering if they should try to find somebody who knew her. She slowly backed away from them slowly saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry." She turned around, and started to walk away saying, "Well, I won't keep you, Mr.-"She stopped a minute, and then say, "Mr. Neal Caffrey, FBI. Not exactly the vibe I was getting from you. Oh. That explains it. Just a consultant."

"How did you-"Neal started, but then he quickly found himself dogging his own credentials as she threw them at him, aiming strait for his head. She then waved his wallet at him, as he were dog, and the wallet was a milk bone, then took off down the street, with him in hot pursuit, ignoring Peter calling out his name. "Why didn't you see she had my wallet?" Neal asked Peter, as they ran down the block. "You didn't see she had it either."Peter responded as they turned the corner. It was the first of four corners, each with her three feet ahead of them, no matter how fast they ran. Then she disappeared completely. They looked around trying to figure out where she went. Then they heard her call, "Excuse me," Then Neal's wallet hit the ground with a small thud. The men looked up to see the manic pickpocket on top of the tall building above them, twirling around in a half-circle and laughing her head off like a Bond villain. "Neal," Peter said, slowly, "How did she get up there?" "I don't even know." Neal responded numbly. "Why don't you find out?!" She called out to them, "Come up here and try to catch me!" Then she leaped to the next building, to Neal and Peter's amazement. Realizing there was a no way to pursue her without breaking their necks, the pair made their way back with blisters on their feet and bruises on their egos, and one of them sixty dollars poorer and utterly humiliated.

Now, she nodded at the look of recognition on Neal's face. She walked up right next to his left ear, and whispered softly, but threateningly, "Good. You remember me." She then stroked her hand across Neal's temple, and started to figure out in his mind how quickly he could make it out the door. Then she whispered something else in his ear that took him by surprise. "I can save you. On one condition."

"What?" Neal asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"You mean what condition, or do you want me to repeat the question?"

"What condition?"

"Save me."

"Excuse me?" He asked, this time at regular speaking volume. Then he remembered O'Ryan was in the other room, and that was why Marie-Grace, or whatever her name, was whispering right in his ear.

"When you're ready to arrest her, give me warning so I can get out. I have places I can hide until I can put a new appearance together, I just need some warning."

"You make this offer to agent Black too?" He remembered to whisper this time

"Agent Black was before my time. Another poor girl found him out for Anna. Then she killed him the way she did, and said poor girl freaked out and ran away, went to some safe haven for people like us, or something, and then I came along."

Neal was quiet for a moment, absorbing the possibly game-changing information. "You mean there's been other apprentices?"

"Yes. There four others before me. From what I got, three ran off, and one killed herself because she thought it was the only way out."

"Where did she get the others? And you, for that matter?"

"We all came of our own free will. An empath approached her once, and ever since then she keeps one around to make sure everyone she works with has a clean bill of health. You've never heard about us, because those who pass keep it a secret, and those who don't-well, you know."

"Yeah. I know." They weren't going to tell anybody. They were dead.

"So do you promise to give me a heads up or not? And remember, I'll know if you mean it or not."

"Well, it's not like you've got anything to lose. And she did just give you some possible new leads if we can find the other "apprentices." "Neal thought to himself, and then said out loud to her, "Okay. I promise."

"I'll go talk to her then." Then she walked over to the back room door, knocked on, and then it opened, and O'Ryan stood in the doorway. Marie-Grace walked into the room and the door shut behind her. Neal walked over to the front door to prepare for a quick getaway. He then put the watch up to his lips and whisper into it, "You better get ready to get in here, guys. I don't know how much you heard, but things just got really, really weird."

A few minutes later the pair went out, with Marie-Grace looking slightly unsure of herself, and O'Ryan with a small smirk on her face. "Marie-Grace tells me that not only are you completely on the level," She said, walking over to the counter in front of the back wall of the building, "but I should but you in my highest place of trust."

"Well, I guess that means I pass then." He said, but what he was thinking was "No wonder you look like you're not sure about this, Marie. You tried to sell me to her too highly."

"That still remains to be seen." She said, and then pulled a necklace out from under the counter. Neal could see why she had chosen an antique store for a front. "Come here," She said, beckoning towards him, "take a look." Neal walked over to the counter and looked at the necklace. It was sapphires held together by silver. "What can you tell me about this necklace, just my looking at it?"

Neal took a closer look at the necklace. "Well, it's made of sapphires that appear to be high quality, and sliver. She gave him a look that said he just told her what she already knew, and she was not happy about it. She stretched her body, with her hands still on top of the counter and said; now let's see what you can give me in an hour." She got up and started to walk away. "I'm gonna be in the back room, if you need anything to do job, ask Marie-Grace." Then she went in the back room, shutting and locking the door behind her. "So," Marie-Grace started, "Do you need anything?"

Neal turned his head towards her. "Could you get me a microscope?" She to the closet on the left side of the room without a single word, opened it, took a microscope out of the closet, and hauled it over to the counter. She plopped it down on the counter causing everything on it to shake a little. "You want me to plug it in?"

"That'd help."

At the end of the hour they both stood behind the counter, waiting for her to come out. "Alpha Five." Marie-Grace murmured suddenly.

Neal moved his eyes in her direction. "Excuse me?"

"If she asks you the planet of origin, say Alpha Five."

"Why would she ask me planet of origin? And what's Alpha Five anyway?"

"Look, just do it, okay?! It's both of us in trouble now if she doesn't believe you, so do whatever I say."

Before Neal could response, O'Ryan walked out of the back room, and stood in front of them. "So?" She said, with her hands on her hips, "What did you find?"

"Like I said earlier, the stone are sapphire of very high quality, actually, amazing high, and there are 16 of them in total, the metal holding them together is pure silver, also very high quality, maybe even a hundred percent pure, and the piece itself is about 40 years old."

"Planet of origin?"

Marie-Graced smirked. "Alpha Five." Neal answered.

"Good." O'Ryan walked behind the counter. "Excuse me." She said, and Marie-Grace and Neal quickly backed away in unison. O'Ryan pulled a small, white cardboard box from under the counter saying, "Mr. Carolla, I think this could be the start of a very good relationship." Then she put the necklace, then walked over to a coat rack in the corner, saying, "I'm going to take this back to the seller, I need to talk with him about the price. Neither of you are to leave until I'll be back, which should be in an hour or." As she said this, she put on a dark green woolen coat. Then without another word she walked out the door, and they heard the sound of a lock clicking. They looked at each other awkwardly, and then Neal walked over to the door and tried to open it. Sure enough, it was locked. Neal found himself really wishing he had brought a lock pick, when Marie-Grace walked over to him holding a bobby pin, and said, "Try this." He took the pin from her, trying his best not to seem grateful, only saying, "So you've had to do this before?"

"Yeah, a couple times."

"She makes trips like this a lot?"

"Yeah."

"You ever fallow her?"

"No, I pick the lock, and then I just stand there. Of course I fallow her!"

"You know where she's going now?"

"Yeah. She always goes to the same place." Marie-Grace leaned on the wall. "Always the same place."

"You mind telling what that place is?"

A smile slipped on Marie-Grace's face. "You know what?" She said, moving away from the wall. "Why don't I show you? You know, if you can get the door open?"

"That's actually not a bad idea." Neal said, pausing for a moment, they stepping away from the door somewhat. "Because now I think I got it." Then he opened the door. "Ladies first." He said as he gestured towards the outside. Marie-Grace rolled her eyes, but walked out.

After they got outside, and Neal was about to walk away, Marie-Grace grabbed a hold of his arm. "Whoa there, buddy. We still have one more thing to do."

"What?" Now Neal was starting to get frustrated. He had the feeling she was stalling.

"First, my bobby pin, please." Neal placed it in her hand. "Thank you." She said, and turned around, putting the pin back into the lock. Within seconds the door was locked again.

"And how are we supposed to get back in?" Neal asked skeptically.

She turned back around and said, "Oh, I have a way. Don't worry. Just fallow me."

A block latter, Neal decided to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind. "How did you wind up as O'Ryan's apprentice, anyway?"

"Why do you care?"

"I'm just curious, you know, first you're picking pockets and leaping on roofs, now you're doing personality readings for a crazy Irish woman who sales stolen jewelry, and kills people."

"Let's just say, she approached me about the position and she was the lesser of two evils."

Neal shuttered at the thought of what the other evil must be for a manic, maladjusted, sadistic murderess with a bad temper, control issues, and the self-control of an over-indulged two-year-old in the candy isle to be the lesser one. "What was the greater evil then?"

"What does it matter?"

"You're what, 14? I don't see how someone that young can get a mess like this, and there still be a worst possibly. So what's the worst possibility?"

"Look," Marie-Grace said, speeding up her pace, "If you think you're gonna get my life story out of me you can forget it. Let's just get there, you see what you need to see, get out, get back to the shop before she does, and then your people can hand this over to UNIT when you get back."

"UNIT?"

"Unified Intelligence Task Force, they're British military, but they have people in New York and some authority to go with it."

"Why would we hand the case over to them?"

"You'll see." She tend waved her hand in the air, summoning a taxi and opening the door, and getting in.

The cab ride took about half an hour. Then Marie-Grace told the driver to stop, then handed him the money for the ride, which she had out before he even told her how much the ride was. "I've took this route a couple times." She explained. When the cab drove away, she said, "We'll walk the rest of the way." Ten they into a seemingly abandoned storage unit complex. "This is the place." Marie-Grace said.

"An abandoned storage complex?" Neal asked looking around, "That's the big mysterious place that's gonna make us hand the case over to British Military?"

"I haven't shown you the best part yet." She responded, walking over to the middle storage unit. She knocked on the door three times, paused then knocked one, paused again, then knocked three more time. To Neal's surprise, a slot opened in the metal door, and a brown eye looked down at them suspiciously. "Password?" A voice from behind the door asked.

"Swordfish." Marie-Grace replied calmly, and then stood there as if she was waiting for something to happen. Then the door started to rise and Neal got the latest shock of that day."

The man raising the door hand three eyes, and four arms.