Based in Kajae's question on a follow up. The answer is yes, if you were wondering.

Marge pushed her cart through the aisles of files, which for sure was more disheveled than when she went on her weekend vacation last week.

It wasn't just that, though.

When she came back, she had found more things out of place than usual. A desk that almost looked like it had been flipped, a trolley from her section somehow ending up way over in aisle two, and of course, almost her whole roll of rubber bands were missing.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

No, the worst of it was the darts.


The little things were everywhere, foam-tipped and out of place in the professional office of the FBI office. It seemed as if someone had tried to clear away the more obvious ones, but she kept finding them in the most random crannies.

There was one that ended up inside her desk when she came back. one tangled in a light fixture, and one in the refrigerator fallen behind some mustard.

She ignored them at first with a frown. After all, the FBI offices were a strange place, especially with that Neal Caffrey around, and she was really only a file clerk.

However, once she lifted up a shelf in the records department only to find about 20 of the little things rolling out like tiny invaders, she was done.


She marched up (at an appropriate time when he didn't have any visitors, and once her hair was perfect) to Peter Burke's office, ignoring the slightly curious stares of the other agents.

Marge barely afforded herself a perfunctory knock on the glass doors of the senior agent's office as she barged in. He looked up, pleasant but expectedly bemused.

Pulling out her purse without a word, Marge dumped the dozen or so darts she had collected he first day back alone onto his desk, letting them spill out with little clattering noises as the rubber tips bumped into each other. She began to explain where she found them, and why it was so irritating.

To her surprise, when Agent Burke looked up from what she had assumed to be a very serious thinking face, he appeared to be holding in a smile.

"-excuse me?"

She asked, more than a little impatiently.

Agent Burke bit his lip again, but Marge could tell he was about one second away from bursting with laughter.

"Is there something I should know?"

She asked, using her most grandmotherly voice she could, pointing again to the darts for emphasis.

The agent bit his lip harder.

Marge opened her mouth for a sound of protest, but a soft knock came on the door before she could say anything, followed by Agent Barrigan.

"Boss, what's up?'

She asked, and Marge was about to tell her of the insanity that her senior agent seemed to have fallen under.

Until she caught sight of the darts, sitting in an unruly pile on the desk, like tiny missiles ready to go off.


"Miss Marge here… seems to have been finding these all over the bureau. She was concerned."

Peter tells Barrigan in a choked voice, and Marge is glad he was at least listening to her.

Agent Diana glances at the pile of collected darts, then back to Marge. Then, she does something horrifying.

She starts to laugh. Small, held in giggles at first, but is soon joined by Agent Burke until the two of them could barely breathe. Diana points at the pile, then to the surrounding bullpen, laughing too hard to talk.

Burke is laughing almost hysterically, but he tries to be a gentleman and explain.

"I'm...so...sorry…it's not...you...really...so...sorry."

He says, in between breaths of laughter.

Marge watches with an open mouth, not believing her eyes. She's gone one weekend, and this.

Chaos.


She stalks out, scooping up the darts and talking most of them with her. However, the few darts that do end up hitting the floor that escaped her narrow arm's reach make the two agents laugh even harder, their faces red.

Marge holds her head high, still carrying the darts as they drop with little plink plinks behind her.


She's still miffed when Neal Caffrey later comes to pick up a record from her, navigating the aisles with surprising familiarity, despite the fact that Marge hasn't seen him in here all that often.

Noticing her upset look, the good-looking young man asks her what's wrong,and she ends up telling him the whole story with the darts.

He gets an odd look on his face, and hurries out, no doubt surprised by his handler and fellow agent's loss of sanity.

She types on her computer, satisfied that at least someone, especially a nice young man, believed her.


Peter runs into Neal right outside the records area, who looks like he's about to burst.

Seeing Peter, his face screws until he bends down, gasping for air as he laughs loudly. Peter fights to keep his cool, until he spots a single dart lying harmlessly under a rack.


Neal doesn't stop laughing whenever he sees Peter for a week.