A/N: A few scattered ideas thrown together that take place after the series finale episode from "Warehouse 13". I just finished watching the series, so I've got a few things on the shelf to clear out.

Fishing for Answers

Pete Lattimer sat on the small front bench in the rowboat, oars at his feet. Steve Jinks watched as he put away his second sandwich. After stuffing the last of it in his mouth, he looked at Steve. "Waaath?" he asked, dropping a few fragments out into the bottom of the boat.

"Did you come here to fish or eat?"

Swallowing the last of his foot, he answered the question. "No reason I can't do both. Besides, I have to keep up my strength to haul in the big one that's out there."

"What, is there a three-foot sandwich I haven't seen?" Steve asked as he pretended to scan the water. Even though the two agents for Warehouse 13 were very different, they got along well enough. Working with Pete must be like working with your younger kid brother, he thought; goofy and not serious enough by his standards, you still had to admire the guy's enthusiasm and sheer joy for the job as they both watched each other's back as well as the other team members.

"Ha ha."

"Look Pete, I appreciate you asking me out here since we don't know how much time we'll be together as co-workers before they move to Warehouse 14. It's calm, the weather is nice, and it's actually pretty relaxing. I appreciate you lending me your fishing pole too," he said as he put his hand on the rod that was resting in a holder designed for longer, leisurely sessions. After fifteen minutes of being tutored by his fellow agent on how to successfully fish and not getting even a bite, he had set the pole and just relaxed while he enjoyed the surroundings. It really was relaxing, and he could have easily fallen asleep here if he had been by himself; there were no pings to worry about and Pete's enthusiasm was a joy in itself to watch. He had gone on and on about camping, hiking, and his brief tenure in the Boy Scouts. Pete had been surprised that Steve had been camping as part of a backpacking trip once, but accepted it immediately and the two swapped disaster stories.

Part of their peace might have come from the fact that it wasn't a very large lake - only about a quarter mile by a half mile in size. One simple wooden dock serviced the whole body of water, and barren hills came down to the water's edge in many spots. One corner offered a little shade in the form of a copse of trees that managed to cast its shadow over the water during the afternoon. A few puffy clouds lazily swept by on the slight breeze, and the air was clean and the whole setting was quiet as if they were located in a mostly unpopulated state - which they were. It would have been a perfect spot to meditate. Except for the chewing sound from the other end of the boat that is, as Pete was now working on a scone. "Sure you don't want one?"

"I told you I don't care for scones."

"Why not? I've seen you eat cookies and muffins before."

"It's not the food itself. I...I mean...it...they remind me of someone I used to date, is all."

"Oh, they remind you of someone. I get it. Was like, scones a specialty of his?"

"No - Jake couldn't cook at all. We used to go down to a coffee shop and...well...it didn't work out between us. Scones remind me of when someone isn't right for you."

"Dude, don't worry about it. There have been so many women that didn't work out for me. I just pick myself up off the ground, slap a bandage on my wounds and try again. But I don't let it stop me from enjoying everything we ate or every place we went together. I'd stay at home and only have bread and water if that was the case. Sure you don't want one? Don't let Jake have all the baked goods fun from now one. I even got one with...no wait, I ate that one...ah well, there's a few left." He extended the bag. Steve hesitated, then reached in and pulled out a blueberry scone. He contemplated it closely.

Pete held what remained of his in the air. "To Jake, and Emily, and Jennifer, and Amanda, and Kelly, and..."

"Pete, we haven't got all day. To our pasts - may they not encumber our futures." Steve hoisted his scone, and then nibbled on one end.

"Well? Well?" Pete asked.

"I still like cookies better."

"I know, dude, me too!"

...

"Did you feel that?" Arthur Nielsen asked as he rushed back into the office after having just exited through the umbilicus. The fact that he was rushing somewhere while disheveled wasn't unusual, but he almost seemed glad that something happened. It had been slow the last few days, and after checking things over in the morning he was leaving - he wouldn't say where, but a flower shop may have been involved.

"Duh, Artie. The earth shakes and I'm not supposed to notice?" Claudia Donovan said as she spun her chair away from the keyboard she had been working on. "I know we're in South Dakota, but earthquakes happen all over the world. It wasn't a very big one."

"Yeah, but that felt different. Why does it have to feel different?" he lamented as he rushed over to the monitor. Claudia was about to make a comment about age blunting his senses when alarms started going off on their alert system. He looked over the map and saw that small earthquakes had been recorded all over the world; one small earthquake was insignificant, but vexing when small earthquakes all around the world were taken together. He muttered to himself as he started pacing, going through his memory for anything that could cause such widespread effect.

Another round of alarms went off and his attention came back to the monitor as Claudia continued to check the world map. "We're getting reports of rising sea levels along the coasts around the world. Huh. Only along eastern coasts, though - ocean, seas and even a couple lakes. It's just an inch at the moment, but it seems to be rising."

"Rising waters...earthquake...Claudia, check the movement of the sun."

"The sun? What, it's leaving us now?"

"No, check the movement across the sky - go to the National Sky site and check there. Has the movement changed any?"

Claudia mashed at the keyboard and brought up the information. "Checking...sun...movement...no, looks like we're still pretty much the normal speed."

"Okay, that rules out the Earth suddenly speeding up its rotation." She started to give him a quizzical look. "Don't ask!" he said, holding her off. "It's got to be something else."

...

"Now are you finished eating?" Steve asked.

"Yup," Pete said as he wiped a few crumbs down into the boat. He reached for a tackle box he had brought with him, thankfully smaller than the ice chest that had contained the victuals.

"Is your pole, like, in a dozen pieces?"

"No - I got something special." He flipped open the lid and pulled out an object with a crank and was less than a foot long.

"What is that, a can opener?"

"This, my friend, is the ultimate fishing accessory. I present to you the Pocket Fisherman." He swiveled out the attached rod and it was still less than two feet long.

Steve looked at his rod, then at Pete's. "You're going to catch fish - with that?"

"I sure am. Millions of fishermen can't be wrong." He tested the built-in reel to make sure the line wasn't snagged, and baited the end before casting into the water. He slowly reeled the line in, checked his bait and cast it again. He reeled it in again and checked. Now there was no bait on the hook. He scowled, then wet his finger and stuck it up in the air before casting in a slightly different direction. When Steve raised an eyebrow, he explained with a simple "Forgot to take into account wind direction."

The boat felt like an airplane flying through turbulence for a moment. Both men stared at each other, and then at the water. The surface of the water was no longer smooth, but had the look of extremely coarse sandpaper. "That can't be good," Steve observed.

...

Myka came into the office, only mostly covered in goo and definitely wanting a shower. It had been her turn down in the gooery, and it showed. She instantly noticed the increased level of activity. Before she could ask a question, Claudia asked "Did you feel the earthquake?"

"I guess I was too busy trying to keep gallons of purple goo from drowning me. No, I didn't notice. Did we get a ping or is something wrong with the Warehouse again?"

"No, it's all over the world," Claudia informed her. "Not just earthquakes, but rising water levels on the coast."

"I've got Claudia running a search for an artifact now. We know it's not the Elephant Walking Stick - or the Minoan Trident, either," Artie said and he checked a few cards in the files.

Myka ignored her previous desire for a shower. "The rising water level isn't good - all the low-lying land is going to go under. Fishing is going to be affected. Some islands might even disappear."

Artie paused mid-search. "What did you say?"

"Some islands might disappear. There are spots where the highest land is only..."

"No, before that."

"Uh...fishing?"

"Fish. That's it. THAT'S IT!" he yelled as he rushed out of the office. "Come with me!" he ordered.

Both women followed him out to the balcony overlooking the Warehouse. He was at one end, opening a panel. "What's wrong with the Frequency-Interfering Surveillance Holograph?" Myka asked, using the full name of the device that hid Warehouse 13 from prying eyes. "Didn't Pete throw the football before he left this morning?"

"Not the F.I.S.H. I'm talking about fish," he said. He poised with his finger over a button. "You're afraid of heights, right?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah...kinda."

"Grab on to the railing. Tight."

Artie pushed the button, and a noise came from above them. Claudia looked up as the entire roof of the Warehouse seemed to retract, to be replaced by a body of water that stretched as far as the eye could see. "Wow, a giant fish tank! When did we get that?" she asked.

"We always had it," Artie answered.

"Gulp." Myka held firm to the rail and looked up. The angle of the water made it look like THEY were suspended upside down over a huge tank - even the surface of the water seemed to move. She closed her eyes for a moment, forced herself to calm down and slowly opened her eyes again. She decided to continue clinging to the rail.

"Ok, WHY do we have it?" Claudia continued.

"It's used for a lot of reasons. As ballast and a harmonic balancer for the warehouse, and to soothe me when I get irritated by agents asking too many questions."

Myka was forcing herself to look. "Um, why are all the fish swimming to one end?"

"Aha! I thought so. Didn't you say Pete and Steve went fishing this morning?"

"Yeah. They're out at the lake."

Artie pushed the button again, and the image of the normal Warehouse roof scrolled back into place. "They took the net."

"What net? Not the Samuel Taylor Coleridge thing," Claudia as they started to follow after Artie, who was now hustling down to the floor.

"No, of course not. No, I'm talking about the Galilee net."

"Like the lake?" Myka asked, now mostly recovered from the sight of the upside-down water.

"Exactly. Remember, the disciples weren't having any luck fishing. Jesus told them to throw their nets over the right side instead, and all the fish were there. When activated, that net causes all the fish in the world to head in one direction. That mass migration has caused tidal shifts all over the world. This way," he said as he led them down an aisle. "And that net was taken from..." he said as he drew up in front of a shelf. There was a net sitting on the shelf, with the monitor beside it describing 'Net of Galilee', and quite clearing showing it was still in its place.

"...here," Artie finished. He scratched his head. "I thought that was the answer."

"Wait," Myka said, "if this makes all the fish go one direction, what counters the effect?"

"Neutralizing it, of course. Um..." he said as he searched his memory "...the only other thing that might counteract it would be...oh no."

...

"I don't get it," Steve said. "What is it about that side of the boat? I even caught something on that side, but over here - nothing." The water had become smooth once again after a minute, and they had continued fishing. The fish were small, and they had released them each time.

"I don't know - water, sun, wind, temperature...maybe there's more food on this side."

"Maybe you dropped some crumbs over there."

"Could be. Maybe we should try a scone as bait and see what happens," Pete said with a grin. Steve grinned, too. He looked around, then frowned. "Is it me, or are we moving away from where the fish are?"

Pete looked around. "I don't think we're getting blown there. Let me get the guns to work again." He reeled in his line, then got to work rowing. After a few minutes, he paused and looked off to shore. "We're not making any progress. In fact, we seem to be drifting toward where that mud is."

"At least try to steer us to where there's solid ground." They didn't quite make it, and ended up grounded far down a muddy bank. Steve looked down where the boat was lodged. "Do tides work on lakes like that?"

"I don't know. Here comes Artie," Pete said as he spied his boss's red Jaguar arriving in a cloud of dust. He tried to wave him over, but Artie raced off towards the opposite end of the lake.

In the car, Artie was still explaining to Myka. "The Pocket Fisherman started a revolution. It wasn't that great for fishing, but the way they sold it directly to customers from late-night TV commercials was successful on an unprecedented scale. They sold millions of products that way."

"But wait, there's more!" Myka shouted.

Artie waited, but she didn't say anything. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry, I forgot you didn't watch much television. They used to say that all the time, and then throw something else into the deal."

"Yeah, well what they didn't get was the original unit. It moves fish like the commercials moved product. We had it on the shelf, but since it's missing, I am going to guess it's on the lake right now. It's perfectly normal the first two times you cast with it, but the third time is the real kicker." He braked the car to a stop where the water was starting to cover the road that ran around the lake. "It looks like the effect is stronger here since it's closer to the artifact. No," he said as he looked up in the sky "it's because this is the eastern side of the lake." He struggled to get out of the car and went around to extract the net from the trunk. "I need you to throw this in the water, but be sure to keep ahold of a corner so it doesn't get carried away when the water recedes. I'll stay dry over here - hopefully, it should work."

He handed the net to Myka, who gave him that look that indicated her day had started out working with goo and wasn't getting any better. She ran over to the edge of the water and cast out the net, holding on to the corner and squatting as it spread and fell. It became immersed in the water, which began to immediately ebb as it ran back into the lake like a retreating wave. "Woo!" she exclaimed out loud, before returning to the car.

"Now goo the net and let's go check on our two fishermen," Artie instructed. She bagged the net and sat back down on the tarp-covered seat as they drove back around to the other side of the lake. By the time they reached the other side, the water was stabilizing once again, and it shifted back and forth with decreased force.

Pete and Steve, however, were sitting in the boat on the shore; it looked as though they had been caught in the water's return and got washed up onto previously dry land. They pretended to be oblivious, happily chatting and casting out their lines only to reel in twigs and grass.

"My big fish must be somewhere," Myka said as they got out of the car a few feet away.

"What?" Pete asked.

"It's from Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea."

"Oh. Yeah. Didn't find any big ones today," Steve agreed. "Decided to join us? Hop on in the boat."

Artie silently walked up to the boat and took the Pocket Fisherman out of Pete's hands and handed it to Myka, who bagged it, causing sparks to fly. "Maybe you two can come up with a big fish tale while you're cleaning the gooery the next four turns," Artie said as he took the bag back to the trunk of the car.

"Well, can we at least go by that fish restaurant in Univille for takeout?" Pete asked.

The End

A/N: I just finished watching the series, and while I have posted a few stories while I've been working through the various seasons, I also have noted a few odd ideas here and there for future use. I wanted to address Steve's scone aversion and my idea of using the ceiling of the Warehouse full of fish, which made me think of a net and then I stumbled upon a reference to the Pocket Fisherman. All those melded together for this story.