The Law of Averages

"Did you talk down your grandmother?" Dan asked Abby, as they washed dishes together.

She glanced up from the drying rack, looking sheepish. "She wasn't thrilled that there were bullets being fired within a mile of me, but she backed off eventually. She said she'll be 'monitoring the situation.'" Her fingers made air quotes to accompany her explanation.

Dan shook his head in irritation. "At least she's not knocking down my door."

"She sounded preoccupied," Abby mused.

"Don't get me wrong," Dan continued. "I'd be thrilled for her to actually offer some help, but the old hag seems to just blame everything that happens on me." He shrugged. "Even if I don't see how this could possibly be my fault."

Abby patted his shoulder, consolingly. "I'm sure she could find a way. Mama Ana is talented like that."

Dan furiously scrubbed a pan.

A door opened and closed in the distance. Great, clomping feet moved across wooden floors, as Gregoir entered through the foyer. The big man paused outside the living room, right before the carpet. He carefully knelt down, unlaced his boots, and placed them to the side. Gregoir entered the room with a cheerful wave and a booming greeting.

"I have secured the perimeter, my friends! None will trouble you tonight!"

Dan glanced at him, eyebrow raised. Moving deliberately, he set down his sponge, and walked out of the kitchen towards his little dining room. The windows there faced the front yard, though the blinds were pulled shut. Dan tugged on pull cord, and they flopped open. Half a dozen news vans sat parked in the street. Reporters were standing on the sidewalk outside Dan's house, camera's pointed in its direction.

He turned back to Gregoir, face flat.

The blonde officer looked sheepish, and corrected himself. "No villains will trouble you tonight."

Dan grunted in displeasure, and yanked his blinds closed once more.

"How long is this gonna go on?" he asked. "They're literally swarming my front lawn!"

"Actually," Gregoir replied, raising up a finger, "they are keeping themselves confined to the sidewalk and street. It's all perfectly legal."

Dan looked Gregoir in the eye. "If they are still here tomorrow a whole lotta expensive cameras are gonna start mysteriously disappearing."

Abby sidled up beside him, tucking herself against his waist. "Let's not do anything too drastic, dear. It's a captivating story, but I'm sure they'll get bored soon."

"They should be focusing on that mess in the strip center," Dan protested. "That was an actual tragedy. Nobody was even hurt, here!"

"Two cops were targeted by malicious forces, forced to endure sustained gunfire for nearly a full minute, yet managed to survive while also protecting nearby civilians," Gregoir stated with the smooth cadence of a radio broadcaster. "It's a compelling, uplifting story that extols the virtues of my fellow officers. Less tragic than what happened this afternoon, but no less important to cover. It's good to give hope to the masses."

Dan, unable to argue with that logic, glared at his blinds one last time, before stomping over to his living room, and dropping into the recliner. Abby giggled as he passed, moving to finish the dishes while he sulked.

Gregoir posted up between them, leaning slightly against the wall.

Dan chewed over the day's events in silence. Some part of him felt like he should be mildly traumatized by the events of the day. The sad truth was that he'd simply experienced so much worse, that some bits of lead and an active threat to his life barely registered as something to be concerned about. After all, he'd spent the better part of a year gallivanting through the eldritch nonexistence of t-space, gazing upon that which man really shouldn't gazed upon and poking that which really ought not be poked.

He glanced over the counter that connected to his kitchen, furtively checking on Abby. She seemed as unaffected by the events as he was. At least part of that was because she hadn't even laid eyes on the SUV. There was approximately ten feet of various bulletproof material between her and the outside world, so at no point had Abby been in any real danger. Yet her general poise spoke to more experience dealing with this kind of trauma than Dan was really comfortable with. They hadn't spoken much about her childhood. Maybe he should bring it up, later.

The main concern of both of them was for their friends. Connor had fared poorly after his kidnapping, just sort of... marinating in his abject helplessness. It was possible that being shot at would trigger some sort of relapse. Dan thought the boy was tougher than that; he'd been trained for getting shot at, after all. He was prepared for that, going in to the job. His kidnapping, the experimentation and helplessness, that wasn't something a person could reasonably be prepared for, nor should they have to be.

Connor would be fine, Dan told himself.

Still, it couldn't hurt to poke around, a bit. Cornelius had let loose more than he should have, and Dan had no qualms about nibbling around the edges of the investigation. He was, technically, involved after all. He turned to Gregoir.

"Any idea what your captain has Cornelius working on?" Dan asked straightforwardly.

Gregoir looked uncomfortable. "I'm not privy to conversations between Captain Gable and Officer Graham."

Dan looked dubious. "You've got no ideas?"

"My position within the department is a unique one, given my natural status." Gregoir shifted awkwardly. "While I'm occasionally deployed as a SPEAR asset, my actual rank is nothing special. I am, officially speaking, just another beat cop. There is little information I possess you that you do not already know." He thought for a moment, then added, "I suppose I can say that we've pulled the dash cam footage off the cruiser that was parked out front. With any luck, we may get a clear visual of your assailants, and identify them. That would go a long way towards their capture."

"Well that's something, I guess," Dan muttered.

Abby came in from the kitchen, clapping her hands together to dry them off. She slinked her way past Gregoir, and ignored the vast expanse of couch in favor of plopping down on Dan's lap. He wrapped an arm possessively around her waist as she leaned into him.

She planted a wet kiss on his cheek, and asked, "What are we talking about?"

"Cornelius," Dan said. After a moment, he clarified, "How shifty he was acting. Did you know he had me deliver a package to the FBI field office today? He said it was on behalf of his brother. What would a Congressman want from a federal agent?"

The question was directed towards Gregoir, who coughed into his fist.

"I'm reluctant to speculate. There are any number of things that a Congressman might ask from the FBI."

"He said it was urgent," Dan insisted. "That implies it needed to be done immediately, and he went so far as to hire a courier to deliver the message."

"Cornelius has a great deal of faith in you," Gregoir stated optimistically.

"He's a friend, sure, and I get that the APD think highly of me, but why would a Congressman need a courier at all? Why not just send an email?"

Gregoir scratched his chin. "A package might highlight the urgency of the message? I'd imagine that a federal agent gets many emails each day."

"From Congressman?" Dan asked pointedly.

"An email would leave traces," Abby suggested. "A note could be disposed of, after reading it."

"Leave traces?" Dan echoed incredulously. "Traces where? I can't imagine it's easy to access federal servers! Nor the Congressman's!"

Vaguely, he recalled something like that happening in his home dimension, but he couldn't remember the circumstances. But with the advancements in technology that Dimension A had achieved, surely they had better network security?

"Not easy, no," Abby said quietly. Her face was grim. "But there was a group who was well known for it, once."

Dan looked down at her, as the implication clicked into place.

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." He threw his hands up in the air. "Let me guess!"

"The People," Abby nodded. "Infiltration was their trademark."

Gregoir broke in before Dan's incredulity could reach it's peak. His voice was calm and reassuring. "I worry you are overthinking this. Do not lose yourself in conspiracy theories."

Dan bit back his immediate reply, and took a deep breath.

"You're probably right," he admitted. "Either way, I don't see how it could connect to what happened here."

"What do you think happened, Gregoir?" Abby asked curiously. "You've got the most experience with this sort of thing. Your blind guesses are gonna be better than our informed opinions."

The big man swelled at the praise. "While I am not a detective, I've picked up a few skills over the years! I can't yet guess who the men were, but I can say one thing: the fact that they clearly attempted to kill you and my fellow officers, yet held back on unleashing their upgrades tells us something important."

"What's that?" Dan asked.

Gregoir held up a meaty finger. "Either they lacked upgrades that would overtly help them, coordination or eyesight or something similar, or their upgrades were too obviously connected to their identities. In the case of the former, they would likely be some unaffiliated force which has little reason to target any of you. In case of the latter, they are likely members of a local gang, and fear giving away their theme in case of retaliation.

"We can also assume that whoever sent those men picked people capable of performing the job, and thus were as close to an optimal force as they were capable of mustering. Those clearly weren't warning shots they fired at you. That means it wasn't simply a case of ill-suited upgrades, but rather a deliberate choice to hide them."

Gregoir nodded to them both. "All told, my guess is Coldeyes' Crew."

"What?" Dan asked. "You really think they'd target cops? Why?"

"Why did they attack the shopping mall?" Gregoir posited, hands held akimbo. "While we don't know it was them for certain, there is strong circumstantial evidence in both cases. Something is clearly going on in Coldeyes' Crew. A schism perhaps? A crisis of some kind? I don't know. but it fits the facts as I see it."

"Where does Webb fall into all of this?" Abby asked.

Gregoir furrowed his brow. "Why must he fall into anything? The poor fellow was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's unfortunate that Connor will bear that particular cross, but it is what it is."

Abby shook her head. "It feels like more than that. Too many coincidences."

"Take care not to see patterns where there are none," Gregoir cautioned. "This is one of the very first things they teach us. Coincidences do happen all the time. They do not necessarily imply some kind of coordinated malice."

"Doesn't discount it, though," Dan pointed out, just to be contrary.

"I suppose not," Gregoir pouted. "I simply ask that you don't get carried away with your suspicions. Our detectives are the finest in the state. they'll get to the bottom of this. You have nothing to worry about."

"We were literally just shot at, Gregoir," Dan pointed out. "I think any worry i feel is pretty damn justified."

"Well... that's fair," Gregoir acknowledged. "But fear not! I will protect the two of you with my very life! No gunmen, no vigilante, no gangster nor villain shall get past me!"

He posed dramatically, muscles exploding out of his shirt as he flexed.

"...Right." Dan sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. "I forgot to ask, Gregoir. Are you posted here overnight?"

"Of course! I would not allow something as simple as darkness to stand between me and my duty!"

"Uh huh." Dan nodded as if that made perfect sense. "And where will you be sleeping?"

Gregoir fisted his hands on his hips. "My unyielding constitution is fueled by my boundless fighting spirit! I could never sleep while my friends are in danger!"

Dan sighed. "Fair enough."

He held Abby closer, sinking deeper into his couch.

Tomorrow was another day. Hopefully it would be a better one.