Emily had already gone up to wait on the Book for that evening when Miranda heard a commotion come from her outer office. Knowing that there shouldn't be anyone in her office that late at night, she frowned and pulled her reading glasses off her face, setting them down on her notes that she had been taking on the mystery of the person behind Snowflake Designs. Pushing away from her desk, she stood up and started for the other room when two rather tall, slim, men came through the door, serious looks on their faces. "May I help you?" she asked as coldly as she could as she lifted her chin and glared imperiously at them.

"Is there anyone else here, ma'am?" the older of the men asked, and she shook her head, the glare never leaving her face even as her jaw tightened almost painfully. "Excellent. If you'll take a seat, we'll be out of your hair in just a few minutes."

"And just who is we?" she bit out as she regally sat, rolling her chair forward and staring them down as they took seats in the chairs in front of her. There was a brief, loud, silence, and she fought to keep from snapping at them some more, knowing that she couldn't let her temper get the better of her in this situation. It was clear from their demeanor that they were from some branch of the government, and she had no idea why anyone from there would be coming to her office this late in the evening.

"I'm Fred Pritzger, and this is Lloyd Mason. We're with the US Marshals, and we have a few things to discuss with you this evening."

That just increased her anger at having her office invaded by these outsiders, as she had done nothing to warrant a visitor from the Marshals. "And those would be?" she asked archly, staring down Marshal Pritzger. It was wonderful to watch him squirm a little, as if he hadn't anticipated her being defiant towards them. If so, it was clear he hadn't done any research into who she was, and that thought caused her lips to curve upwards in the coldest smile that she could paint on her face.

"It has come to our knowledge that the IP address attached to your office is doing some research into a case that the FBI handled back in 2013, and it came across as unusual, since this is a fashion magazine that has no business digging into cases involving elite teams like the BAU. This is your one warning. Stop with the searches, otherwise the consequences that you could be faced with will far outweigh the outcomes that you are looking for."

"That sounds more like a threat than a warning."

"Take it however you want, Ms. Priestly. Just know that if it comes to our knowledge that you're looking into that case any further, we will be forced to take action and you will not like the outcome. Especially this close to Fashion Week. I am correct in assuming that that is an important event to a magazine such as yours?"

The righteous fury that blazed in Miranda's chest almost overtook her good senses, but she very carefully reined that fury in as she stared Pritzger down once more until he was the one to look away from her. "It is. Now, I'd thank you to leave, as I have a lot of work to accomplish before I can leave for the evening."

The men nodded in unison before rising to their feet and exiting her office. Miranda did not allow herself to relax until she heard the faint ping of the elevator arriving on her floor. Still, she waited another few seconds before grabbing her phone and calling Andrea. "There's been a change of plans, and I need to see you this evening. Bring your notes on the Snowflake Designs case to my home, and I will meet you there in an hour, if the traffic cooperates."

"Who pissed in your Cheerios?"

"The US Marshals."

"Oh. Fuck."

"Precisely. I'll see you in an hour?"

"Of course."

She didn't bother to say goodbye, instead ending the call and then ringing for her driver. It wasn't until she was well on her way home that she thought to contact Emily, to let her know that she and Andrea would be up in her study when she arrived with the Book, and that they were not to be disturbed, as she didn't want to involve her in something as serious as this was becoming. "But I like looking into this!" the woman protested.

"And I won't have you going to prison for something that I asked you to look into. No. I can fight this battle much more easily than you can, especially since you don't have your permanent residency card yet. For once, listen to me."

"Fine, but I won't like it."

"I never expected you would. I'll see you in the morning, where we begin preparing for New York Fashion Week and actually seeing the finalized Emily collection walk the runway."

"Yes, Miranda."

She ended the call just as her driver pulled up in front of her door, and Miranda said good evening to him before heading inside. Andrea was waiting for her on the stoop, and she gave her a tight smile as she unlocked the door and let them inside. "I'm home, bobbsies!" she called out as she hung her coat in the closet and then led Andrea up to her study.

"So, spill. Why were the Marshals in your office this evening?" she asked as she plopped down on the settee. Miranda fought to keep from rolling her eyes as she took a seat next to her, smoothing down her skirt as she took a deep breath.

"Whatever we're digging into in regards to our little mystery is on a watchlist. Specifically, whatever happened in 2013, where the section chief lost her life."

"Did they say that to you?"

Miranda nodded. "It was strongly implied that if I continued digging into what happened that evening, I would be taken into custody. And you know me…"

"This only makes you want to go digging all the more. Which is an entirely ridiculous idea, Miranda! You have Fashion Week coming up, you don't need to be in federal prison for that! And think of the scandal that would bring to Runway. No, we have to do this by the book, from here on out!" Miranda was surprised at the vehemence in Andrea's voice, and she looked over at her to protest what had just been said, instead, finding herself fixated on the passion evident on her face. Before she could protest, the younger woman was leaning in and giving her a fierce kiss. There was more frustration than lust in the embrace, but still, Miranda could feel the passion that Andrea was pouring into her and she sighed a little as she allowed Andrea to push her backwards against the sofa.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," she quipped after clearing her throat when Andrea finally broke the kiss to sit up and stare at her.

"I wasn't either," she sheepishly admitted as she raked her hand through her hair. "I'll just leave…"

"No, we still have to discuss where we go from here. Just because some silly Marshal threatened me this evening does not mean that I am going to stop digging into the designer of Snowflake Designs. In fact, I think that this just makes me want to find out what's going on all the more. I know that you know ways around IP trackers and all that. Right?" Andrea just sighed and nodded before taking out her notepad and pen, and Miranda gave her a small smile as they started to go over what they knew so far.