TITLE: Chapter Eleven
PAIRING: Walstrid
CHARACTERS: Astrid Farnsworth, Walter Bishop, Peter Bishop, Olivia Dunham, Phillip Broyles, Nick Lane, Benjamin Kashner, Amy Jessup
GENRE: Dark
RATING: M
SUMMARY: life in the mirror world
WORD COUNT: 5743
WARNINGS: Dead stuff, language
SPOILERS: Seasons One and Two
AUTHOR'S NOTE: lmao this has been planned for over a few months, so imagine my surprise when we got exciting tentacles in 2.10!
DISCLAIMER: none
It was still early, just past dawn when they pulled up in front of Olivia's brownstone. Walter enthusiastically whacked his fist on the steering wheel to set off the horn and Olivia emerged, hurrying in the locking of the seven deadbolts she had installed on her front door. Like Astrid, this morning Olivia was dressed in her FBI standard uniform, looking very prim and professional in the solid black suit. She still had her tie in her hand and once she climbed into the backseat and said 'good morning', she began to attempt the complicated knot that the FBI dress handbook called for as standard.
In Cambridge they picked up Peter and Walter moved into the backseat with Olivia; Peter took the front passenger seat, as he was prone to carsickness and buckled himself in, obviously trying to ignore his father's happy noises in the back seat.
"How are you this morning, son?" Walter inquired happily.
"I'm fine, Walter," the younger Bishop said gruffly.
Walter was oblivious to fact that his son hadn't asked him how he was in return. "I'm doing fine this morning, as well. I ate some frozen raspberries for breakfast!"
Peter disregarded Walter and looked over at Astrid. "Where are we off to today?"
"North to Miskatonic County," she said as she watched the smoke from a large fire downtown rise into the air.
"Aw, what? They're all a bunch of nutters," Olivia protested, but she didn't hide her laughter.
"I gave a lecture there once," Walter mused, his fingers trying to sneak over the headrest to play with Peter's short hair.
Peter jerked away from his father and adjusted his glasses. "So what are we going up to Lovecraft Country for?"
Astrid pulled the fax they'd received last night out of the centre consol and handed it over to him. "It seems they caught a chimera, but because of their beliefs, they think it's one of their lesser gods. One of our junior agents stationed at the field office in Arkham there called it in."
"A chimera? Where is it?" Olivia asked, leaning forward to take the fax as Peter handed it back to her.
"Currently at one of their temples. The agent's afraid more people are going to be killed by it and that it'll keep breeding if the FBI doesn't intervene."
"How many people have died?" Walter asked.
"Twelve," Astrid answered with a sigh.
"Those people are fucking crazy," Olivia declared. "Letting that thing run wild."
Peter investigated the centre consol further and found the rest of the information she'd stored away, which included photographed autopsies of previously captured chimeras as well as a visitor brochure to the area they were going to visit. "I'm going to read the pamphlet that Miskatonic County puts out, so that everyone in the vehicle knows the laws."
Obviously, that statement was directed at Walter and when Astrid glanced up in the rearview mirror, she could see how that embarrassed him. She wished she could tell Peter what she thought of his snide remarks towards his father, but knew that it would really do no good.
"Welcome to Miskatonic County, the United State's largest Era State!" Peter started loudly, adjusting his bifocals. "Founded in 1938—"
"By scientists who'd inhaled too many fumes," Olivia interjected with a laugh.
"—by enthusiasts of the popular H.P. Lovecraft stories that centred around the great sleeping god Cthulhu. Convinced that Lovecraft had documented actual events happening in the area, locals and wealthy patrons from across New England purchased the land described as making up Miskatonic County. Within the end of the year, the new county folk petitioned the United States Supreme for religious recognition, which was granted by Court Grand Judge William Brad. In 1954 the residents of Miskatonic County managed to obtain an Era State license, making it the first 1920 society and the largest Era State—
"Skip to the Arkham part. That's where we'll be going," Olivia butt in.
Peter obliged. "Arkham is the largest town in Miskatonic county and second oldest. Filled with history and mystery, it has been referred to as 'the crown jewel of the H.P. Lovecraft Society'. Meet our Mayor, High Priest and Presidential hopeful (1992, 1996, 2000, 2004) Hart Williamston III who gives daily tours of the mayoral office.
"See our many museums, historical buildings, and the Chattering Skull Sorority's noon o'clock lunch performance. Visit our many churches open to the public and experience an authentic ceremony! (Tourists are advised not to volunteer during the participation part of any ceremony for their own safety and wellbeing.) Take a tour around Miskatonic University, the only place students can major in occult studies and obtain a degree!"
This earned a gale of laughter from the four Empiricists—magic was hardly something any of them could take seriously.
"Shop at our world famous 'Arkham Farmer's Market', featuring the freshest produce in Massachusetts." Peter sighed. "I do miss the Boston produce markets.
"Special Notes for Our Visitors: Miskatonic County uses Era dollars set to the 1929 monetary rate. Please pick up your currency conversion card at the Chambers of Commerce in Arkham, Kingsport, Innsmouth, and Dunwich."
"The agent waiting for us has ours," Astrid added.
Peter nodded and continued. "We Miskatonians prefer not to use the term 'Lovecraft Country' as it a derogatory term regarding our beliefs and is not the proper name of our home. 'Miskatonic County' or 'Miskatonia' is favoured. We appreciate tourists and modern technology, however we restrict where it may be used. Please avoid using cell phones, laptops, mp3 players, etc in public—it is at the discretion of the property owner whether modern technology is permitted."
"Special note," Astrid interjected, "as government employees, we are exempt from that rule. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Peter continued once again. "Cinematography permits are available upon request at the Arkham Chamber of Commerce. Photography is encouraged—please ask for permission if you wish to photograph the locals! Because Miskatonic County society is set in the 1920's the laws on Prohibition are still in effect. Absolutely no alcohol under any circumstance is permitted. Please do not bring alcohol into the county as it will be confiscated and will result in fines/possible jail time."
"Something tells me that we'll definitely want a drink after this case is closed."
Astrid chuckled while Peter smirked and shook his head. "Members of 'Cthulists for a Modern Society' are not permitted in Miskatonic County. No exceptions. Trespassers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."
"Ah, here's something good to know," Peter said. "Miskatonic County offers state of the art health care within its three hospitals. Whether you need treatment for a cold, car accident, or botched sacrifice, you will receive modern medicine as the default form of care. 1920 medicine will be practiced upon request."
"Botched sacrifice?" Olivia laughed. "Was that the part of the brochure that advised us against participating in an authentic ceremony?"
By this time, they'd reached the large south gate to exit the Boston area and after the usual routine of 'we're leaving on official FBI business' and 'here's our paperwork', they had their barcode tattoos scanned and they started their hour and a half trip across the barren Outer Edge to the Edge-of-the-Edge Gate, where they would end up on the south side of walled Boston. From there, they would take NorthWay to Miskatonic County; NorthWay was the large road that led around border of Boston, caught between a green countryside and tall, black, solid steel walls that reached thirty feet tall.
The trip through the Barren was spent helping Walter with his crossword puzzles and proofreading the work Peter was writing; the Edge-of-the-Edge Gate was a welcome sight. About eight miles past the Edge-of-the-Edge Gate on NorthWay, Astrid pulled the SUV over and everyone climbed out to stretch their legs and remove their Kevlar and gators. The fresh air, clean and earthy, along with the warm summer sun made Boston seem as if it were a completely different world.
Walter of course demanded snacks and Olivia graciously took over the duty of passing out bags of crackers and apple slices while they continued on the long drive to Miskatonic County.
Arkham was a beautiful town: historical brick buildings, citizens dressed as if it was still 1920, summer flowers and thick green trees. Astrid didn't miss the curious looks they received as they drove by from locals walking down the sidewalks; she knew that the FBI agents from Boston hadn't been up to Miskatonia in almost two years and she wondered what they thought about the FSU coming in to investigate.
"Ooh, look Walter! There's Miskatonic River!" Astrid called out, pointing enthusiastically to the large body of water they were approaching.
As they drove over the impressive bridge, Peter read aloud, "It says in the brochure that Miskatonic River is man made, created to replicate the river that Lovecraft described in his books."
"There's the campus," Olivia called out and Astrid turned on the street bordering the Pride of Arkham.
"That's it—the grey brick building on the left!" Walter said happily.
They turned to look at the building, which was sandwiched between a deli and a bicycle shop, and the bottom half of the building had its large windows painted in gold with the words 'Almen's Flowers'. Astrid parked in front of the deli and frowned.
"Are you sure?" Olivia asked skeptically.
Astrid looked at the electronic device on the dashboard of the SUV. "I'm pretty sure. That's where the GPS says it's supposed to be—the base of French Hill and across from the campus at 259 South Garrison Street."
Her attention was drawn to a small door and steps that were tucked between the side of the deli and the back window of the Almen's where a young woman in a replica of the 1920's women's issue FBI uniform sat. Upon seeing them pull up, she'd stood quickly and put her garrison cap on, dusting off her skirt.
Walter was of course drawn the promise of food as they got out of the vehicle. "There's a deli! What time is it?"
Astrid glanced down at her watch, stretching her arms. "A little past ten thirty. Why? Are you hungry?"
"Yes," he said enthusiastically.
"We just got here. You've been eating the whole trip, can't you wait?" Peter sneered.
Walter pulled away from his son slightly and in an apologetic tone said, "My metabolism works unusually fast."
"Damn, I thought I grabbed my clean one," Olivia grumbled as she inspected her own garrison cap.
Astrid carefully pinned hers on, trying to fix the cap at the proper angle without her thick curls messing it up.
"Look all right?" she asked Olivia who nodded. Astrid turned to Walter and said softly, "Hold on and I'll get you something to eat, okay?"
He nodded and began smooth his coat jacket out, fussing his hair in the window reflection.
Astrid hurried around the side of the vehicle to greet the agent who'd been observing them from the steps. "Hello!"
The agent's face lit up and she offered her hand out to Astrid. "Hi, I'm Junior Agent Amy Jessup, agent in charge. I was the one who called the main office."
"I'm Agent Astrid Farnsworth."
"We met at the "Up and Coming" event in Washington DC last year," Jr Agent Jessup said with a smile as parted.
"I remember," Astrid said with a smile and motioned for the others who had joined her. "This is Agent Olivia Dunham, and these are our consultants, Dr Walter Bishop and King's Doctor Peter Bishop."
At this, Jessup's smile faltered. "Bishop? Is there anything else I could call you by? Your surname is considered cursed not just because of the local mythology, but because of that High King's Doctor Bishop who was excommunicated seventeen years ago."
"Knight. We can use the last name Knight," Peter said quickly, adjusting his glasses.
"Excellent. I'll print your new badges in the office." She opened the door and gestured for them to follow. "Trust me, it'll save you a lot of grief."
As they followed up the stairs behind her, Astrid couldn't imagine fighting crime in a skirt, stockings, and low heels—she really had to give Jessup credit for doing a job she loved with a strict and impractical dress code, especially in this muggy summer weather
"So the Miskatonic Field Office—is it worth it?" Astrid asked as she held onto the railing—the stairs were pretty narrow and she didn't want to trip.
"I've saved the Boston office three hundred reports in the three years we've been here," she said looking back at her with a smile. "And I hear that the Boston Office is working on a cure for the Outbreak?"
Astrid shrugged. "Trying to."
"It's not much," Jessup announced as they reached the top of the stairs and saw an unassuming door with a glass front that had the large gold seal of the FBI with the words 'Miskatonic Field Office' etched underneath it, "but it's ours."
The office was small, half the size the FSU office back in Boston and was cramped with four desks, twelve large file cabinets, and a life-sized replica marlin on the west wall. A man sitting behind one of the desks, also in 1920's men's issue FBI uniform though his cap was tucked into his belt. Upon seeing them, he stood up came to greet each one of them.
"Hello," Astrid greeted, taking off her cap and shaking his hand.
"Agent Benjamin Kashner," he introduced.
Niceties exchanged, Walter wandered over to the faux marlin, studying it curiously. "Why do you have this?"
Jessup looked somewhat embarrassed as she retrieved a file from her desk. "Oh, that was a office warming present."
"Classy," Peter smirked.
"Here's the information we have so far." As Astrid took the file, Jessup removed her cap and tucked it back in her belt. "I've read your files on the data base—ours seems smaller than the one's you're killed. I was wondering if it was a juvenile or possibly a female? Anyway, you'll be able to tell us when we go out to see it."
Astrid passed a series of pictures showing the wild creature caged up in a strong iron cage on top an alter over to both Bishops, who poured over them as Jessup began printing out their new badges. "And while I know we run the risk of more showing up, I did read that the creatures start off in a larval stage—part of the religious beliefs here among the Miskatonians is that bodies are cremated, so I believe that anything growing in the deceased has been destroyed."
"I'd need to see the ashes to make sure nothing's living in the bones or the rest of the remains," Peter said as he perused the paperwork.
"Of course." Jessup handed over two small plastic identification cards. "Here are your badges, Doctor and King's Doctor Knight."
"Thank you," Peter said, still too busy studying the case to take the card.
Astrid carefully attached Walter's to the series of badges he had strapped around his neck already and gave him a secret smile before letting him return his attention back to the photographs that she looked at, too.
There was knocking on the office door to the tune of 'Chattanooga Choo Choo' and the six turned to look at the outline at the door.
Kashner's face fell. "Oh no, Mr Lane."
"Who?" Olivia asked.
"He's the local private detective," Jessup explained, quickly checking her hair in the reflection of the window.
"Local hack" Kashner mumbled under his breath.
Jessup hurried over to the door. "He's the guy who called it in to us."
In entered a lanky blond man who gave quick smile to Jessup but stared curiously at all those from Boston.
"I saw the automobile parked in front," he said and took off his hat, offering out his hand. "You must be the Boston Agents. I'm Nick Lane, Arkham's resident private detective."
"Agent Farnsworth," Astrid greeted.
"Dunham," Olivia said with a smile and then gestured over to the two Bishops. "These are our consultants, Dr Walter Knight and King's Doctor Peter Knight."
"Walter Knight. Have we met before? You seem very familiar," Walter said as they shook hands. "Did you ever live in Boston?"
Lane grinned. "I've never left Miskatonia in my life."
"Hmmm…" Walter pondered as he watched the man.
Lane turned his attention back to Astrid and Olivia. "So you've come to tell us that this so called 'chimera' isn't actually one of the children of The Dweller of the Gulf?"
"No…" Astrid tried to imagine was The Dweller of the Gulf might possibly be. "I apologise—we're very ignorant of the locals' religious beliefs."
"That's why I'm here," Jessup said with a laugh and pulled her hat out of her belt. "Shall we go see it? It's within walking distance"
The seven left the office and by then a small crowd had gathered around outside the flower shop down stairs, looking at the uniformed agents and at the modern FBI vehicle. Kashner lingered behind for a moment to talk to the crowd as Jessup led them towards the church where the chimera was being kept. To Astrid's surprise, Lane and Olivia paired off to walk some distance behind the rest of them; she could hear them discussing secret societies in the Miskatonic University and a vast tunneling system beneath it.
"Well, they're certainly getting along, aren't they?" Walter murmured over to her.
"Two peas in a pod," she agreed.
Olivia was usually so guarded around others, so it was extremely unusual to see how quickly she'd warmed up to the local detective so quickly and without reservation.
Less than six blocks away, there was an aging church that had been taped off with vibrant yellow crime scene tape, which the seven of them ducked under. Within the church atop the main alter was a large cage containing a German Shepard-sized chimera, spitting and hissing at their arrival.
"Male, small," Walter declared as they stood a safe distance from it. "Where am I to work?"
"Ah! Out here!"
Jessup led them out a side door of the main area of worship and they walked a few metres away to something that looked like a large windowless shed placed atop wheels; at the end opposite the side with the door, Astrid noted a trailer hitch.
"What's this?" Walter asked in confusion
"Our mobile lab," Kashner explained. "We had to make it look like a period piece."
"I like it," Olivia commented with a smile.
"The inside is better, trust me. And it probably won't fit all of us if we move the chimera in there," Jessup pointed out as she pulled a key out of her skirt's pocket and walked up its folding steps to unlock the door.
Inside was the absolute opposite of the 1920s façade; polished steel and pristine, hermetically sealed white walls that seemed far more professional and familiar to Astrid who was used to the lab back home in Boston that looked much the same.
Walter spent a few moments alongside his son, fretting over medical tools and devices for performing an autopsy before he shooed them out and they stood on the lawn once more.
"Peter, come help me sedate it." Walter paused and looked back at them. "Agent Kashner, Mr Lane, if you would assist as well."
"I'm going to go talk to the deacon," Jessup mumbled before hurrying off towards the curious locals hovering around the crime tape along with angry parishioners.
Astrid leaned over to the agent and hissed, "Olivia, we have to destroy it. We can't let them keep this up here! One of those crazies will probably let it go! We're just lucky they caught this one."
Olivia nodded fervently as they watched the now sedated chimera being carried from the church to the mobile lab. "Yeah, but they're never going to let us kill it, let alone take it away."
"Jessup." Astrid gestured for the other female agent to come over to her and Olivia. "We can't let this stay up here. We have orders to destroy all chimera."
Jessup sighed as Kashner, Lane, and the Bishops emerged from the trailer, coming over to them. "I was afraid you'd say that. This is going to cause a riot."
Astrid glanced over nervously at the crowd of curious, though tense onlookers; she'd always felt these cultists were fanatics and while she'd dealt with their kind before, there was only one of her and many of them…
Jessup spoke once more, drawing her attention to the other agent.
"You know what we could do…" Jessup said, tapping the pen cap against her bottom lip. "Ben, do you have any more of that polyresin that you encased all those beetles in? You know, the ones for the festival?"
"Yes," Kashner replied.
"How much?"
He shrugged. "A lot. I bought it in bulk."
Jessup turned to the local detective. "Nick, go get all your figure casting supplies. I have an idea."
"What are you thinking?" Astrid asked curiously.
Jessup looked at her. "You know that marlin in the office? Nick made that. What if we make a life-sized facsimile of the chimera out of plaster of Paris, paint it to match the real one, set it in a big block of polyresin, and say that it's the real thing?"
Everyone exchanged glances nervously before anyone spoke.
"I don't know. That seems a little unethical," Kashner said apprehensively.
"It's the only way we can make everyone happy," Jessup said.
Peter sighed. "I think it's really the only option we have."
No one seemed to have any other suggestion, so Astrid finally said, "I can stand behind this."
Olivia nodded as well. "Me too."
Jessup clasped her hands. "It's settled then! We're going to make ourselves a chimera!"
It was around ten in the evening when Lane declared the plaster dry enough to be painted. It had already been dyed a vague murky green and now it was time to paint it assorted shades of grey by hand. Astrid, Olivia, Peter, Walter, and Nick Lane were inside the mobile lab with small brushes, working on the facsimile; Jessup and Kashner had gone home for the night, promising to be back early to intercept any nosy locals that might try to take a peek at what they were up to and once the other agents had left, Astrid and Olivia had moved in to work, there now being enough room to accommodate them.
Olivia had brought their SUV back over to the site and after the chimera had been put down, it was packed into the crate that the plaster had been stored in, already secreted into the back of the vehicle.
It was hot and cramped in the mobile lab and Astrid had been forced to strip off her uniform shirt to cool off, her tie tucked in her trousers' back pocket. Olivia's unbuttoned the top few buttons of her uniform and loosened her tie, while the three men had rolled up their sleeves. The top vents of the trailer were open all the way and off in a marsh behind the church they could hear crickets and frogs.
Walter yawned and handed his brush over to Astrid. "I'm exhausted."
"Go sleep on the backseat of the SUV. It's warm and safe in there," she said gently and he nodded.
"Lovecraft Country smells boggy," he declared before he parted for the night.
"He's an odd one," Lane commented after Walter shut the trailer door.
"That's a nice way of putting it," Peter muttered darkly as he compared the photo of the hindquarter to what he was painting.
Lane pulled his suspenders back on and looked over at Dunham. "Olivia, I know what you're thinking right now."
"Oh? And what is that?" she asked, her tone skeptical.
"You want to go to those tunnels under the campus and find the students' speakeasy."
Astrid saw Olivia's eyes widened. "How did you—"
Lane put his hat on. "I told you—we're two of a kind!"
Astrid kept back a smile. "We need you back in two hours."
"We'll be right back!" Olivia giggled as she allowed herself to be led out by Nick Lane.
Now that they were alone together, the silence between Astrid and Peter became awkward and they worked carefully on painting before he pointed out, "I thought she was looking for an assigned relationship with the FBI."
Astrid kept her attention on the small scales she was detailing. "She is. I don't think they're interested in one another 'that way'. Besides, I don't see a Cultist and an Empiricist working out in the long run."
"Very true," he agreed.
There was silence between them once more and she continued working on adding detail to what would be the paws, carefully painting on the claws as well as small flecks of brown as though it were dirt while he added little strands of hair randomly to the tail, gluing each one individually.
Time passed and all was quiet between them until she finished working on the plaster feet and decided to start painting the body. There was a fan brush that she suspected might work best for applying the faintest layer of silver glimmer over the plaster, but she chose to consult the sheet of paper Lane had typed out with quick notes on painting techniques. Like every other child in America, she'd taken the required art classes in school, but she'd never been particularly artistic so this was a challenge that was somewhat daunting to her—there was absolutely no room for errors with this one! Peter began to speak while she read over the paper.
"If you paint the silver, then the grey, it creates a mottled shine as though it's scales. Then with the brown antiquing, rub it over the entirety of the plaster after you've painted it. Use the flat fan brush to bronze dust over it and—" Suddenly his hand covered the paper she was reading and startled, she looked up at him. "Do you think you could listen to what I'm saying? I'm telling you what I'm telling you for a reason."
She jerked the paper out from under his hold. "I am listening. I was just checking this—"
He pulled the paper away from her and crumpled it up, tossing it behind his shoulder. "If you listen to what I say, you don't have to read this piece of paper."
"There is nothing wrong with making sure you're doing the right thing!" she cried, tossing her hands up.
His jaw was gritted. "I know what I'm doing and you don't have to double check."
She placed one hand on her hip and flicked a loose curl out of her face. "How on earth did you become a professor?"
"Why? Can't keep up?" he sneered.
"You're such a jackass," she declared.
Peter pushed his glasses back on his nose. "I can't see how even Walter could stay with you."
She blinked. "I'm not stupid."
"Really?"
"Fuck you!" she shouted, throwing her brush on the table.
"If you stop painting, we're not going to finish. Pick up your damn brush," he said snidely.
"Why do you always have to have the last damn word?" she shouted.
"Why are you sleeping with my father?" he yelled, jabbing his finger at her.
"This is what all of this is about? Really mature, Peter," she sneered.
"Yeah and it's really professional to be fucking the man you're supposed to be watching."
Astrid flinched. Peter was the only person she knew who would openly talk about anything of a sexual nature, something that was frankly toeing the line of Obscenity laws.
She felt flustered and stumbled around with her words. "You have no right to bring that up! It's none of your business who I have relations with—"
"Relations! I'd call it more than that!"
"What does it even matter?" she shouted. "I do my job day in and day out! I take care of him while you feel bad for yourself!"
"Screw you," he hissed, throwing the paintbrush down and storming out of the trailer.
Astrid stood there, breathing hard, her heart pounding, and her fists clenched. She hated arguing but Peter was a special exception—he always knew the right buttons to press! The door opened and she inhaled sharply, ready to fight more with Peter but also ready to apologise. However it wasn't Peter, just Olivia and Lane. Astrid quickly made an attempt to compose herself.
"What's going on?" Olivia asked, looking incredibly concerned. "Do you need help?"
"That would be great," she said, turning her face away so they wouldn't see she'd been close to tears.
Lane grabbed her by the arm. "If he's causing you trouble, I'm more than happy to—"
"No, no. It was nothing." Astrid picked up her paint brush and sighed. "I just want to get this finished."
By sunrise, the painted plaster chimera was being set in a giant block of clear polyresin as per Agent Kashner's detailed instructions.
"One lesser god for the people of Arkham," Astrid announced, staring at the incredibly realistic creation.
"I wish I could add this to my resume," Lane joked as they emerged from the trailer.
Astrid sighed heavily, stretching her arms and breathing in the fresh country air as they stood on the grass.
"If you ladies will excuse me," Lane said politely before wandering off towards the church.
"We can leave once Jessup and Kashner show up," Olivia commented as she stretched her hamstrings.
"We'll need to round everyone up," Astrid commented, not wanting to say Peter's name directly.
Olivia nodded and pulled her cellphone out, dialing the number belonging to the missing Bishop.
"Hello, Peter. I was wondering where you were? We've finished." She paused and the slightest flicker of surprise crossed Olivia's face. "Oh. I see. Shall I—you'll walk? All right, see you in a few minutes."
"Where is he?" Astrid muttered.
"Hotel. He said he couldn't put up with your incompetence and Walter's snoring so he took a room for the night," Olivia said without enthusiasm.
Astrid kicked angrily at a clod of dirt on the lawn. "Of course."
"You're a very good agent," Dunham said gently.
"I shouldn't be with his father."
"It's not Peter's business. You could have developed the relationship even if he was still caring for him. You have nothing to apologise for, Astrid." Olivia fumbled with the end of her tie. "But that's just my opinion."
Wandering out of the cemetery, Walter ambled over to them, waving hello. "Good morning. I just saw a rabbit!"
"Good morning, Walter. Did you sleep well?" Olivia asked, looking somewhat amused.
"That back seat is very comfortable. I liked it. Not as good as my mattress, but there were less legs to get tangled up with mine, so I suppose it was a good compromise." Oblivious to the red faces of both women, he looked at the mobile lab excitedly. "Ooh! Is the facsimile set?"
"It's setting right now. It should be done by tomorrow evening," Olivia said.
"Wonderful! May I see it? Is Peter there?"
Thankfully, Astrid didn't have to answer him as their attention was drawn elsewhere. Strolling across the churchyard carrying a small box came Junior Agent Jessup.
"Agent Farnsworth! Agent Dunham! I didn't expect you up!"
"We didn't get much sleep—too busy working," Astrid said.
Jessup peered over their shoulder curiously at the mobile lab. "Is it done?"
"Yes. And in the polyresin," Olivia added.
Lane returned and tipped his hat to the agent, smiling. "Hello, Agent Jessup."
"Mr Lane," Jessup said politely then offered out the box she'd been holding. "I brought you all pastries and coffee…Where's King's Doctor Knight?"
"He took a hotel room for the evening," Astrid said coolly as Walter began to reach for the sweets.
"Peter!" Walter cried out cheerfully and they turned to see him walking up to the churchyard.
Astrid honestly didn't want to be anywhere near him, so she quickly asked, "Would you two like to see it?"
She led them along with Lane into the mobile lab and showed the large square mold that the chimera facsimile was in, covered by the still gummy, though completely transparent.
"It looks so real!" Walter gasped as they peered down at it.
Jessup's grin stretched ear to ear. "It looks great."
"My best work ever," Lane announced proudly.
"I don't ever want to have to do it again," Olivia said with a laugh.
"I need to collect flora and fauna specimens before I leave!" Walter said loudly and left the trailer.
Astrid hurried out after him and unexpectedly ran straight into the one person she was trying to avoid. Suddenly Astrid found herself caught in a staring contest with Peter. She could tell from his expression he was expecting an apology for the words she'd said last night. Astrid decided she was not going to be the first person to say anything. She was done dealing with him. If he was going to be nice, then fine, but if all he wanted to do was—
"Aster! C'mere! I found caterpillars!"
Her eyes stayed on his a moment more before she turned. "Coming, Walter!"
The drive back to Boston was quiet; the tension between Astrid and Peter had obviously affected the dynamics of the four, but at the moment, she really didn't care. Peter was an inconsiderate, temperamental, vulgar, know-it-all and she was fed up with the way he treated her and Walter, as though he was being victimised by the choice he'd made to get his father out of his hair.
The third row of seats was folded down to accommodate the chimera body that was tucked into a crate to be taken back to Boston and Olivia had graciously offered to drive so that Peter was up front with her. Walter was fast asleep with his head against the door and Astrid mindlessly rubbed his nape, staring blankly at the road.
But this ever-growing divide between she and Peter was doing them all no favours and if she didn't want irreversible damage done, she knew she had to do whatever it took to fix it. She sighed and sure no one was looking, she leaned over and kissed Walter's temple.