I've been watching a lot of Warehouse 13 lately, and noticed that they end up in Colorado a lot. This was born of that observation.

"Wadoosh!"

"Pete! There is a ton of cataloguing to do. If Artie finds you..."

"If Artie finds you what?" snapped Artie, shuffling into the Warehouse office under a heavy looking pile of books.

"Nothing! What have you got there?" asked Myka, quickly changing the subject.

"Roget's original Thesaurus. Nasty one this - overexposure causes the victim to endlessly list alternative words, expressions, idioms...dammit!"

"Forget your gloves again Artie?" grinned Pete.

"It fell on me. I spent the entire flight listing... things."

"Sure did," said Claudia. "The best part was that the guy behind had Tourette's. Turns out Artie knows quite a lot of words for - you know - genatalia." The last word was said in a stage whisper.

"Organs!" shouted Artie, before clamping his hand over his mouth and glowering at the teenager, much to the clear amusement of Pete and Myka. Just then there was a Ping.

"Aha!" Artie exclaimed, "You two - Colorado again. Denver area - we have a possible ping on Martin Luther King Junior's Lapel Pin."

"That doesn't sound so bad," remarked Pete.

"Not in itself. But the pin allows the wearer to speak with such compassion that they can literally get their audience to do anything. It can be used for great good, but in the wrong hands the speaker can incite murder, suicide, or even war with a big enough audience, crowd, gathering."

"So, grab the pin without getting talked out of it - got it," affirmed Myka before leading Pete from the office to pack for the trip.

GREENDALE

COLORADO

"So apparently the pin was seen in a pawn shop and all of a sudden the worst debating team in the county is starting to win prizes? Sounds like more than a coincidence to me. Let's check out this 'Greendale Community College' and see how the debate team has turned managed to turn it's fortunes," Myka briefed Pete as they drove from Denver International.

On arriving at Greendale Community College the Secret Service Agents introduced themselves to the Dean.

"So I hope you two aren't going to arrest any of my students," joked Dean Craig Pelton. "No, seriously, we've had quite a lot of arrests already this year. You know, high jinks like crack labs and inter-teacher feuds. Not to mention the students. Subscriptions are really taking a hit. The problem is the Penal Education system. Once they've served a few months they've already learnt way more than we can offer, and at the expense of the taxpayer. We never get them back once they've been sentenced." The Dean looked a little bright-eyed for a moment, before pulling himself together.

"So, what brings two attractive (here he glanced admiringly at Pete) agents such as yourselves to little old Greendale?"

"Oh, just routine checks. The Secret Service likes to make sure that our schools are safe. Start from the bottom up," Myka said breezily.

"Oh believe me, bottom up is how we like to do things around here! Oh, I didn't mean - look, let's pretend I didn't say that..."

"So, you're the debate captain?" Pete asked the attractive young brunette seated at the study table across from him. Annie Edison nodded affirmation as Pete continued, "I see you've hit a run of form lately - congratulations!"

"Thank you," smiled Annie, "though most of the credit should go to our newest recruit - Jeff Winger. He used to be a hotshot lawyer and now, well, he's one of us!" Annie blushed a little as she said this, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Jeff Winger? Why isn't he here now - this is your practice session isn't it?" Myka probed.

"Oh, he's always late. And he doesn't really need much preparation. He pretty much wings it unless we have a big match."

"So a natural, eh? Thank you, Miss Edison, I hope your next match goes well." Pete stood and politely shook Annie's hand before he and Myka left the study room. Once they were out of earshot of any of the students the two agents huddled together.

"Sounds like this Winger is our guy. Hah! Wings it! I just got it," chortled Pete.

"Well he's got to show up sooner or later. Dean Pelton seemed to know a lot about his movements. He said that he usually meets with a study group back in that room. We should keep eyes out here. Once we confirm it's him we can get him to hand over the artefact and get out of here. This school is weird - that old guy over there keeps blowing raspberries at us."

Later that afternoon Pete and Myka sat in the hall outside the study room in their best inconspicuous pose - Myka was reading a book. Pete was reading a comic. In a library they fit right in. They could overhear the the students in the room with relative ease, unfortunately. They had been party to a fat ginger guy with a grating voice practicing his prose, a weird old guy with glasses shouting at his calculator and a guy with what appeared to be stars shaved into his face apparently tripping out and chanting to his spirit guide.

At four a new group arrived, including Annie Edison, the first to arrive. Pete observed as a hot blonde sashayed into the room with a black woman who had all the curves in all the right places. Shortly after the weird calculator shouting guy returned, followed by an asian guy talking about Batman and Spiderman to a black kid. Finally he clocked Myka staring appreciatively as a tall, muscular man with immaculate bed head sauntered into the room.

"Jeff! You blew off our prep again!" was his first greeting, from Annie Edison. Positive identification then.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had some really important stuff to do."

"Cha! Like styling your hair?" sniped the blonde.

"Or banging some guy?" said calculator guy.

"Yes, because that's all I do," responded the tall man - Winger - in a voice laden with sarcasm. "If you must know I was hooking up with an old lawyer buddy. He's going through a rough patch. His wife just left him for another woman."

This statement was met by a chorus of disbelief from some of the group (the black woman and Annie), appreciation from others (calculator guy and the black kid) and derision from the blonde. The asian guy didn't appear to react at all. They all started to talk at once, only to be silenced by Winger miming a 'can-it' motion with his hand.

Pete turned to Myka to check she had witnessed this amazing power. She nodded grimly but put a warning hand on Pete's arm. They didn't want too many witnesses to the bagging if they could avoid it.

"So did you guys see the Secret Agents?" Annie asked.

"They're not Secret Agents. They're Secret Service. James Bond was a Secret Agent," the asian guy pointed out. "Also, they're outside."

"Oh," said Annie, as the entire group turned to look at Pete and Myka. Pete waved awkwardly while Myka stared fixedly at her book.

"I think they made us," Pete whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Ya think?" Myka snapped her book shut and walked into the study room, followed by Pete.

"I'm Agent Bering and this is Agent Latimer. Miss Edison, we've already met. We're doing a routine inspection of the colleges in this area. We've had some reports of suspicious activity in the wider Denver area and are just following up leads."

"Oh, that's just Starburns," said the black kid easily. "We're always getting the FBI and the NSA around here, but he's not making bombs. He's buying fertiliser to grow his dr- ow! Herbs" he finished lamely, as the blonde straightened from where she'd mysteriously slumped nearly all the way under the table. The black kid rubbed his shin sulkily.

"Oh good, so nothing unusual going on around here then? Unexplained phenomena? Freaky superpowers? Good good," commented Pete, turning to leave.

"Agent Bering, is it?" asked Winger, "I don't suppose you'd care to meet me for dinner later? I know a really great restaurant. They do the best steaks..."

Myka flushed a bit, before stammering, "Er, sure. I'm staying at the Mariott."

"Great. I'll pick you up at seven," grinned Jeff.

As the agents left the library Pete leaned in towards Myka. "Nice job! That way we can get him away from any witnesses!"

"Er, yeah. That was exactly what I was thinking," responded Myka, though Pete noticed her blush spreading down her neck.

"Jeff! I can't believe you hit on a Secret Service Agent!" Britta hissed as the agents left.

"Relax! Look, there was no way those agents are here about Starburns. I just want to know what's going on. If Greendale is about to become the centre of some scandal I need to know so I can get out before my reputation takes any more of a hit. Don't worry - I'll give you all the details tomorrow. Well maybe not all the details..."

At precisely seven o'clock Jeff pulled up in front of the Mariott hotel. Myka was waiting outside the lobby and gave him a nod and a stiff grin as he got out and walked around to open the door for her.

"Suspect has arrived," she murmured for Pete's benefit, covering it by flicking her hair, which she had straightened, back across her shoulder.

"Agent Bering," Jeff greeted her with a kiss on the hand. "You look lovely. Not that the suit wasn't doing if for you."

Myka climbed into the car and waited as Jeff got back into the driver's seat.

"So, I can't really call you Agent Bering all evening. I'm Jeff. Jeff Winger." He offered her his hand to shake.

"Myka," she responded, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. His grip was firm but not tight, confident. His hands were warm and dry and he exuded confidence. There was no way a man could be this outright charming, she thought to herself as she met his eyes, which twinkled roguishly and didn't falter. With that he slipped the car into gear and pulled away.

At the restaurant - Morty's - the maitre de whisked them to a table, greeting them as "Monsieur Wing-air" and "Mademoiselle," as he pulled out Myka's chair. Jeff confidently ordered wine for the pair of them before turning to Myka.

"So, I always imagined that working for the government would be pretty glamorous. What did you do wrong to get landed in Greendale?" he smirked.

"I did nothing wrong!" giggled Myka. "I like my job just fine. There isn't anything else I'd rather be doing."

"So I guess you must be from around here, you're accent is coming back. It's definitely more noticeable now."

"Very perceptive, Mr Winger. My parents are in Colorado Springs. They have a bookshop there. Though I haven't been back for a while."

"Myka!" Pete whispered in her ear bug, talking over Jeff's polite response. "He's playing you! You need to get out of there before he puts you under some sort of spell! I'll ring you so you have an excuse. I'll be covering the car park in case he tries anything. Yell if you need me."

Seconds later Myka's phone rang, which was fortunate as Jeff had finished saying whatever it was he was saying and was looking at her expectantly.

"Oh, excuse me!" exclaimed Myka as she stepped from the table and away from the other diners. After a few seconds she returned.

"I'm sorry, Mr Winger - Jeff, I'm going to have to cut this short. Another time I hope?"

"Oh, let me drive you back. If you get our coats I'll get the tab."

"Oh, it's no bother, my partner can pick me up."

"No, I insist," said Jeff gallantly. "It would be terribly unchivalrous to leave a lady here all alone."

"Okay," Myka shrugged, and turned away. "Pete, I can't ditch him. Just keep me covered," she whispered as she made her way to the cloakroom.

Jeff met her as she turned around with their jackets and helped her shrug into hers before putting his own on.

As they walked across the car park Jeff made a last ditch attempt to salvage the evening.

"So, when you're done saving the world, or whatever it is you have to do, how about we pick up where we left off? I can pick up some steaks on the way home, and I have a very nice red waiting for the right occasion back at my apartment..."

"I would love to!" gushed Myka before she could think about what she was saying. At that moment Pete leapt from behind a nearby vehicle, Tesla drawn.

"Myka! Don't listen to him! He's using the pin! You! Don't move and definitely don't speak," he snapped at Jeff.

"Wh- ugh!" Jeff was cut off as a bolt of blue lightning caught him in the chest, throwing him off his feet as he lost consciousness.

"Myka! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. How do you know it's him?"

"Look, we've been working together for nine months and not once have I seen you even acknowledge men flirting at you. And it happens - a lot! Figured that something had to be off for you to be telling this guy about your family and stuff. I mean, I only get that info in snippets at best!"

"You're - you're right! He must have been using the pin. Do guys really flirt with me that often?"

"Duh-doy!"

"Duh-doy?"

"I heard some of the students saying it. I thought it was kinda cool."

Jeff regained consciousness to the sensation of someone groping him. It wasn't the first time but usually he could remember more about how it came to happen, and who might be groping him. He groaned as a wave of nausea swept over him and a splitting headache enveloped his senses. He groaned again when he realised he couldn't do anything else, as his mouth appeared to be full of fabric.

"He's awake," someone said. A man. Probably. Oh God. What had he been doing?

Jeff went to pull the fabric from his mouth but realised his hands were stuck behind him. He attempted to pull his arms around but cold metal bit into his wrists. Great. Jeff finally realised that he was going to have to open his eyes. He did so cautiously, wincing as his brain ached from the new information.

The first thing he saw was his crotch. Ok. Not the worst thing but not what he expected. Ah. His chin was slumped on his chest. Raising his head slowly he saw his knees. Good. Then shoes. Not his. Too many feet. Four. Legs. Two hot ones and two in trousers. So probably two people. Yep, two people. A man and a woman. Familiar looking. Whoosh! His head lolled back, sending the room spinning.

"Hmmmmf," he said. Oh yeah. The material. He pulled his head forward again and looked at the two people. Mike? Was that the guy? No, the woman. Myka. That was what he had been doing. No he hadn't. They hadn't gotten that far. At that moment the man stepped forward.

"Mr Winger. We believe you have something that doesn't belong to you. A lapel pin. We need it. We know you don't have it on you, and we're sure as hell not going to ungag you. So, we need you to lead us to it. And then you can go. Understand?"

What the hell? Ok, Winger. Facts. He was - what? Handcuffed. To... a chair. Again. And gagged. By two secret agents. No - not James Bond. Secret Service. And they wanted something. From him. A lapel pin? Well, he had a few. Probably more than the average person. A highly successful part of his lawyering had been tracking down pins that belonged to the clubs and universities of key jurors to wear in court. Make a connection... Well, if they wanted one of his lapel pins Jeff was more than happy to oblige in exchange for his freedom. He nodded at the man. Latimer.

"Smart move, man."

Myka pulled out Jeff's - Winger's - house key and opened the door to his apartment. Pete had a hold of Winger's collar to stop him fleeing, though he was unlikely to achieve much even if he broke free seeing as he was still cuffed and gagged with his own tie. Myka hadn't felt bad about using what was clearly an expensive Italian silk tie as the gag, as the jerk wearing it had been using magic to get her to bed. She was still figuring out if she had enough to press charges. At least get the jag to do some community service.

On entering the apartment - Tesla drawn, just in case - and completing a sweep, Myka called for Pete to bring Jeff - the suspect - in. She really needed to stop thinking of him as Jeff. The guy had tried to take advantage of her. Surely Stockholm Syndrome should take a little longer to set in!

Jeff led them into his bedroom and to his chest of drawers, where he nodded to the top drawer. Myka opened it to reveal an immaculate collection of accessories - cufflinks, tie pins and about thirty lapel pins.

"You have to be kidding me! Who the hell owns that many lapel pins? Ok, which one is it?"

Jeff shrugged.

"Hey man, you can't back down now. I mean, we can find it eventually, but it'll be much better for you if you tell us which pin it is," reasoned Pete.

Jeff raised his eyebrow and shrugged again.

"Ok, I guess it's the hard way then. Don't try anything funny. Mikes, you start from that end , I'll start with this. You might want to cover your eyes," he said to Jeff, who merely rolled his eyes and shrugged for a third time. "Well close them then! Don't say I didn't warn you."

Donning purple gloves, both Pete and Myka pulled out a static bag and picked up a lapel pin. Jeff watched as they both dropped the pin in the lapel bag and flinched. Nothing happened.

"It was never gonna be the first one," moaned Pete.

Fourteen attempts later the agents were both stumped.

"Is this all the lapel pins you own?" demanded Myka. Jeff nodded, his eyes wide. "Pete, cover me. If he looks like he's going to coerce us, Tesla him again." Myka hesitantly released the knot keeping the tie in Jeff's mouth.

"You used my tie? Do you have any idea how much that cost?" gasped Jeff.

"Shut up! Look, answer my questions, nothing more, or Agent Latimer will Tesla you again. Understood?"

Jeff nodded, his head still fuzzy from his last dose of lightning.

"First of all, how did you seduce me? Did you touch the lapel pin recently?"

"What lapel pin? I showed you all the lapel pins I own. I'm sorry if they weren't good enough! Some of those were really hard to track down!"

"Fine! It's not the lapel pin. But that still doesn't explain how you seduced me."

"Lady! Look at me! I got the hair, the face, the abs and the face. As if that wasn't enough I exude charm. I could seduce your partner! And did I mention the face?"

"He might have a point, Mikes. He does have a pretty charismatic face. And from one player to another, he got moves."

"Oh." Myka flushed slightly, before pulling herself together. "But what about the debate team? Why do they keep winning? Same captain as before, the only difference is you."

"Look, I joined the debate team because it reminds me of when I was a lawyer. I spent seven years debating for my clients. I had the best success rate in the county. Beating some spotty college kids after convincing people I was a lawyer was hardly a challenge. Sure, debate's not on the same scale as winning cases. Or even the same spectrum. But part of me gets a bit of a buzz from winning debates, and reminds me why I'm still attending a crap hole like Greendale."

"And you get a pretty hot debate partner - amiright?" grinned Pete. Somewhat surprisingly Jeff just blushed and looked a little guilty.

"Ok, Mr Winger. I think you're telling the truth," said Myka, releasing Jeff from the cuffs. "Though that does leave the question as to who has the pin..."

"And the rest of our date," said Jeff, grinning seductively.

In another suburb, a Christian housewife addressed her two boys, thoughtfully stroking the small pin in her pocket. "Now I know you're not gonna make pick up all these toys by myself!"

"No mom," responded the boys despondently, before bending to tidy the squalor of their bedroom.