B99/HIMYM: I M here

Chapter 25: A Friend in Need (Marshall) & The Undercover Op Gone Wrong

Marshall Eriksen looked like a giant, sad puppy. He was slumped in a booth at MacLaren's, clutching a legal pad covered in frantic scribbles. "Guys," he groaned, "I have a problem. My new neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, is convinced my pet turtle, Shelly, is a spy for the Russian government. She's threatening to sue me for 'espionage and emotional distress.' I've tried reasoning with her, but she just keeps shouting about tiny microphones and shell-based surveillance."

Lily sighed. "And the worst part is, Marshall actually started to believe her for a second."

Ted looked bewildered. Barney, naturally, offered to teach Marshall how to "interrogate" the turtle.

Adam, sipping his tea, offered a quiet, internal sigh. "A spy turtle. Only in this universe. And only Marshall would get caught up in it. The [Knowledge & Insight Module] is already sifting through common neighbor disputes and absurd legal precedents. This is less about law and more about human eccentricity."

"Marshall," Adam said, cutting through the escalating panic. "First, Shelly is not a spy. She's a turtle. Unless she's developed a very sophisticated form of shell-based Morse code, I think you're safe. Second, Mrs. Henderson sounds like she needs a hobby. Or a very strong cup of decaf. My advice: offer to have Shelly 'debriefed' by a neutral third party. Like, say, a local veterinarian who specializes in reptiles. Get a signed statement from the vet confirming Shelly's non-spy status. It's a simple, non-confrontational way to get your neighbor off your back. And it avoids a lawsuit involving a turtle and international espionage, which would be a nightmare for everyone involved, especially the turtle."

Marshall stared at him, then at the legal pad, then at Adam. "A veterinarian debriefing? That's... that's genius! It's so simple! And it makes it sound official!"

Lily gave Adam a knowing smile. "You're good, Adam. Very good."

[Status Log: Friend in Need Assisted: Marshall Eriksen. Provided Practical Legal Advice.]

The precinct was a hive of nervous energy. Jake Peralta and Rosa Diaz were on an undercover operation, trying to infiltrate a ring of high-end car thieves. The plan was, predictably, Jake's: they were posing as a ridiculously wealthy, eccentric couple trying to buy a stolen vintage car.

"Alright, Adam," Jake's voice crackled over the radio, sounding far too excited. "We're in! I'm wearing a fake mustache, Rosa's wearing a wig, and we're speaking in British accents! This is going to be legendary! 'Pip pip, cheerio, old chap, fancy a spot of grand theft auto?'"

Rosa's voice, dry as dust, followed. "He sounds like a cartoon character. I'm pretty sure they're onto us."

Adam, back in the lab, was providing critical forensic support, monitoring their comms and analyzing any data coming in from their hidden cameras. "Oh, Jake. Your British accent sounds like a cat being strangled. This is going to go wrong. Spectacularly wrong. The [Knowledge & Insight Module] is already preparing for a rapid extraction scenario."

And it did. Jake, in his enthusiasm, accidentally used a modern slang term while trying to sound "posh." The car thieves immediately grew suspicious. One of them pulled a gun.

"Code Red! Code Red! They're onto us! Rosa, deploy the smoke bomb! No, wait, that's not a smoke bomb, that's my emergency snack bar!" Jake yelled into the comms.

"Adam," Rosa's voice was calm, despite the rising tension. "We're compromised. Need an exit strategy. Now."

Adam's fingers flew across his keyboard, analyzing the building schematics, the live camera feeds, looking for any weakness, any overlooked detail. He noticed a subtle flicker in one of the security cameras – a momentary blind spot.

"Rosa, Jake," Adam's voice was calm, cutting through the frantic noise. "There's a blind spot in the northeast corner of the main showroom. For approximately seven seconds, every thirty seconds, when the external security light cycles. It's too small for a full escape, but enough for a distraction. Jake, throw your 'emergency snack bar' at the main fuse box on the wall. It'll cause a momentary power surge, flickering the lights. That's your window. Rosa, use the chaos. Northeast corner. Go!"

Jake, surprisingly, listened. He hurled his snack bar. The lights flickered. In the momentary confusion, Rosa, moving with incredible speed and efficiency, grabbed the gun from the thief, disarmed him, and secured the area. Jake, still slightly dazed, managed to handcuff the other.

"Holy crap!" Jake yelled, panting. "Adam! You're a genius! You just saved us with a snack bar and a light flicker! You're like a forensic ninja!"

"Just doing my job, Jake," Adam replied, a dry smile on his face. "Ensuring the safety of my colleagues, even when they insist on using terrible British accents and throwing food at electrical equipment. You're welcome."

Rosa Diaz's POV: "Stiels is good. Really good. He saw a flicker and knew exactly what to do. He's calm under pressure. And his sarcasm is almost tolerable. Almost."

[Status Log: Undercover Op Salvaged. Provided Critical Real-Time Forensic Support.]

Later that night, Marshall approached Adam, a look of profound gratitude on his face. "Adam, seriously. Thank you. For everything. You're always there, always ready to help. You're a good friend."

Adam merely nodded, a genuine warmth spreading through him. "Anytime, Marshall. Anytime. Just try to keep your turtle out of international incidents. My hazmat suit is at the cleaners."

[Relationship Status: Dating Elisabeth Olsen. Duration: 21 days.] [System Status: Adam's practical problem-solving skills are valued by Marshall. His real-time forensic support is crucial to the 99th's operations. Liz relationship stable.]

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