Hatchetfield.

a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two

PEIP Headquarters, 2006

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as she gave a tight smile to a passing colleague, letting it slip away as soon as the door downstairs swung shut behind them. Sat on one of the only benches in the corridor she waited anxiously, perking up as her favourite co-worker rounded the corridor. Rachel gave her a smile as she collapsed to the bench, adjusting herself with a hand pressed to the swell of her stomach, and Jane glanced down before saying, " I really hope you've told Ted he gets no opinion on naming the baby."

Rachel huffed a short laugh, kicking off her shoes she reached down to rub the soles of her clearly aching feet, "Of course I have, he wanted to name her after his great aunt. I politely informed my husband that naming my baby Greta was grounds for divorce."

"Wouldn't that be the second daughter named after one of his dead relatives?"

Rachel shrugged and said, "At least Alexandra doesn't sound like an old lady's name."

Jane reached an arm around her friend's shoulders, before chucking and pulling herself into Rachel's side "And how is our fearless Aleaxandra, still trying to eat crayons with varying degrees of success?"

"Oh she's just running her dad ragged. Ted will be delighted when this portal, or whatever it is, is finished and I can start working from home again."

Rachel gave her a nudge, as Jane began thinking. She imagined her and Tom just sat on the couch watching some crappy film, no phones going off, no mysterious calls into work at 3am. Just her and her husband, together, maybe even hearing the patter of little feet coming down the hall. She smiled softly at her friend, "I think everyone's partners will be delighted when we all stop acting so weird. Tom keeps asking questions and I'm skating way too close to the limits of my NDA as it is."

They both sighed, getting lost in their own thoughts of what the future could hold for them. This top-secret project had been taking up every moment of free time they had and, while everyone in PEIP believed in what they were working towards, questions were starting to pop up. People in the break room quietly talking about all of the delays, wondering why Cross had rescinded the usual open door policy, watching the consultants brought in disappear one by one. An eeriness had descended over the base, a sense of strangeness all stemming from the room they were all called to.

Jane was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of boots coming down the corridor, and the voice of her boss calling out, "Good afternoon ladies, how are we doing this fine day?"

Jane's eyes widened as she shook her head subtly in warning. Rachel scoffed, with a colossal effort she stood from the bench. " At last somebody wants to know. Currently I am still in work despite being eight long months pregnant. My husband is obsessed with old women's names for babies. And for some reason I still am not allowed to sit down during work because our fearless leader," Jane smirks as Rachel lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like, "asshole has 'protocols' in place."

John McNamara had been working for PEIP since shortly after its foundation. Even he had to admit that Wilbur Cross had difficulties when it came to allowing his employees basic comforts at work. His smile dropped in a small show of sympathy, before regaining his composure. "We all know Cross can be a bit tough at times. But just think, four more weeks and it'll be back to Friday night drinks and watching the husbands trying to one up each other at darts."

Rachel smirked at him, "Maybe if you showed up more than once a month you guys would have a chance of actually winning."

Jane laughed, leaning against the wall she addressed the bickering pair. "I quite enjoy watching as my boss tries to swoop in before his husband accidentally stabs someone in the foot. It tends to be the highlight of the night, even if it only happens on a monthly basis."