(Aligned to September 17, 2013, for both shows' S1E1)
Chapter 1: The New Guy and a New Girl
[Tuesday – Brooklyn Coffee Shop – Day 1]
The world came into focus with the scent of burnt coffee and a cacophony of gentle chatter that felt both familiar and strangely alien. One moment, Adam Thorne was dodging a pizza scooter in a reality filled with comic book lore and sitcom reruns; the next, he was Adam Stiels, blinking in a Brooklyn coffee shop, the city's hum a low thrum in his ears. He was taller, broader, and his mind felt like a freshly wiped hard drive, except for the pop culture references, which had somehow survived the cosmic reboot. A small, transparent window appeared in his peripheral vision, displaying a single, glowing line of text.
[SYSTEM: Initializing. Welcome, Host: Adam Stiels. Mission: Navigate this narrative reality. Task: Forge relationships. System Module: Ask Me Out. Status: Activated.]
This is a fever dream, isn't it? Pizza scooter-induced coma, and I'm hallucinating a self-aware dating app. Great.
He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the barista's question. "Black coffee in Brooklyn? Gutsy."
A woman with fiery red hair and a deceptively sweet smile was watching him from a nearby table. She had a sketchbook open, a half-finished lyric sheet beside it. She seemed to radiate an aura of a protagonist, the kind you'd see in a pop music video. Adam's internal system gave a little chime.
[SYSTEM: Target Acquired. Name: Taylor Swift. Attraction: Minor Interest. Initiate 'Ask Me Out' Protocol?]
The system's formal tone was comically at odds with the situation. He just had to be himself. "Gutsy? Try dodging pizza scooters. It's a miracle I'm here." He gave a half-smile, a blend of his own dry wit and the new body's easy charm. "I'm Adam, by the way."
She laughed, a genuine, bell-like sound that made a few heads turn. "Taylor. And I'm pretty sure you just gave me my next song title. 'Pizza Scooter Miracle.'"
"Sounds like a b-side to 'Shake It Off.' You in a studio nearby?" he asked, the "Ask Me Out" system waiting in the wings.
Taylor's eyes sparkled. "Maybe. And you seem... creatively chaotic. Studio tomorrow? Bring the sarcasm." The "Ask Me Out" function didn't need to be verbally triggered. The intent was enough.
[SYSTEM: 'Ask Me Out' Protocol Complete. Status: First Connection Achieved. Relationship Log Updated.]
Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared, ducking low behind a large ficus plant. It was Jake Peralta, wearing a baseball cap pulled low, his eyes wide with a panicked terror that seemed both comical and deeply sincere. He was staring at Taylor Swift like she was a vengeful ghost.
"Adam," Jake hissed, his voice a low, frantic whisper that made a sugar packet avalanche off his table. "What are you doing? It's her! She's here! My arch-nemesis!"
Adam leaned in, keeping his voice calm. "Jake, she's not suing you. Chill." He looked at Taylor and gave her a sheepish shrug. "Sorry, new friend. He gets overzealous about things. Like... cases."
Jake's whisper grew more frantic. "Overzealous is one way to put it. Over-caffeinated, maybe. I had a restraining order for a solid six months after the last concert. She thought I was trying to steal her dog, but I was just practicing a backflip. For a case! It's on my record!"
Adam gave a mental shrug. Yeah, this is definitely my life now. Helping sitcom characters navigate their crazy lives. A deep sense of loyalty, of a mission, settled in his chest. "I got this, buddy. Go hide under that table. Or better yet, go to the precinct. I'll meet you there." Jake, ever the follower, scrambled away, making a beeline for the door, tripping over a discarded napkin on his way out.
[Tuesday – 99th Precinct Bullpen – 1:00 PM]
The 99th Precinct smelled of cheap coffee, old paper, and a faint, lingering scent of pizza. It was exactly as he'd imagined, a living, breathing set from his favorite show. Jake was sitting at his desk, looking genuinely shaken.
"Alright, Stiels," a deep, resonant voice cut through the bullpen's chatter. Captain Holt stood at the entrance to his office, his face a mask of stoic professionalism. "Peralta says you have a... 'Flash-level brain.' Report."
Adam, carrying a pizza box, placed it on a nearby table. The smell was suspiciously fresh. "It's a pizza theft, Captain. But the perp left a forensic clue. The grease marks on the box have a specific chemical signature, usually found in cleaning solvents used by catering companies for large-scale events. This isn't some small-time thief; this is an organized operation."
He wasn't sure what he expected, but Holt's expression didn't change a single millimeter. "Unorthodox but effective. I'll allow it."
Amy Santiago, meanwhile, was hovering over his shoulder, her clipboard a shield against the chaos. She had a manicured nail pointed at the pizza box. "Where's the chain of custody? The log? This is a violation of at least five departmental regulations, Adam."
Oh, Amy. You're even more by-the-book than I imagined. "Chain of custody? Amy, I literally picked it up from the crime scene after Jake tried to eat the evidence. And for the record, your filing system has a glitch in the sub-folder for 'Non-violent Pizza Crimes.' I fixed it. You're welcome."
Amy's mouth fell open, and she looked from her laptop to Adam in disbelief. Rosa Diaz, at her desk, gave a slow, deliberate nod of approval. "Kid's got guts. I'm in."
Charles Boyle, meanwhile, had produced a small Tupperware container from his bag. "Guys, I made pizza crust biscotti. For the case! To show solidarity with the victim!" He offered a piece to Adam, which promptly crumbled, leaving a pile of crumbs on Amy's pristine desk.
"Charles, that's a health violation," Adam said, but a laugh escaped him. He wiped the crumbs away. "I have a lead on where they'll strike next. It's a place that caters to large, boisterous crowds. A place with a lot of noise and a lot of... a lot of snacks. We should hit up MacLaren's. It's a cop bar, right?"
Holt's eyes, which had been fixed on Adam, blinked slowly. "Stiels. Good work. Consider yourself officially on the team."
[Tuesday – MacLaren's Pub – 7:00 PM]
The pub was a low-lit, cozy place, filled with the aroma of stale beer and fried food. Adam settled into a booth with Marshall, Lily, Ted, and Barney, a group he knew so intimately from his previous life. They were in the middle of a heated debate over trivia. The system chimed again, showing a new connection log.
[SYSTEM: Target Acquired. Group: HIMYM Gang. Attraction: Group Camaraderie. Status: Friendly Hangout. Initiate 'Ask Me Out' Protocol? (Note: Protocol adjusted for platonic intent.)]
Marshall clapped him on the back. "Adam, new guy! You know your useless facts? Are you a trivia star?"
"Star? I'm here to roast Barney," Adam shot back, the sarcasm a natural reflex.
Barney, ever the peacock, preened. "My playbook is legendary! I've won this trivia night five times. I have a laminated copy of every victory."
"Agreed. It's time to keep this bar sane," Adam said, and Lily, a small, mischievous smile on her face, nudged him with her elbow.
"Adam, next game night, you're in!"
Suddenly, Jake burst through the door, eyes scanning the room as if looking for a ghost. He spotted Adam and made a beeline for him, a look of relief flooding his face. "You're here! Safe! No restraining orders!" He looked at Barney with a look of pure confusion. "What's happening? Is this a stakeout?"
"Barney's 'wait for it' got cut off by Jake's entrance. The comedic timing was impeccable.
Ted, meanwhile, had been staring wistfully into his beer. "You know, Lily and Marshall... they just make it look so easy. I just want to find my girl. The one with the yellow umbrella."
Adam's heart clenched. He was looking at a man whose romantic life was about to become a decade-long sitcom of close calls and near misses. "Ted," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "She's out there. You just have to be in the right place at the right time. Or maybe a different bar."
Ted gets me. New wingman?
[Tuesday – MacLaren's Pub – 9:00 PM]
Two hours later, after an epic trivia fail and several rounds of drinks, the pub had a new buzz. Taylor Swift had shown up with a few friends, and she was talking animatedly to Adam. Jake, who had been sitting with the HIMYM group, panicked and hid behind a decorative pole.
[SYSTEM: Target: Taylor Swift. Status: Friendly Hangout. Attraction: Growing Interest. New System Function Unlocked: 'Wingman Mode'.]
"Adam, good lyrics for a cop," Taylor said with a wink.
"Cop? No, forensic nerd with a guitar. Different career path. You guys mind if I borrow him?"
Jake's whisper was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Adam, save me! She'll spot me! I can't go back to court!"
Charles, ever the loyal friend, sighed and grabbed the back of Jake's jacket. "Jake, my coat's not a fort! Get out there and face your fears!"
Hitchcock and Scully, who had been sitting in a dark corner, looked up from their plates of nachos. "Taylor Swift," Hitchcock mumbled. "Lost a pizza case in '89. She was a witness. Said she saw the perp with a guitar case."
"Anchovies galore!" Scully added, and went back to his nachos.
This is surreal. But amidst the chaos, a piece of paper slipped from a customer's pocket. It was a coded note, with strange symbols and a single phrase: "Shadow Broker." The note, he realized, was the key to their pizza case. The perp was a delivery driver, a freelance contractor, and a low-level associate of a group known as the Shadow Broker.
"Guys, this note's our lead," Adam announced, holding up the clue. "This wasn't about pizza. It was a message." The chaotic energy in the room shifted, turning from comedy into something more serious.
[Tuesday – MacLaren's Pub – 11:00 PM]
Adam had just finished explaining the clue to Holt, who had arrived for a brief, stoic beer. The captain looked at him, his face a perfect blank. "Stiels. You are an asset. But do not… let the chaos of this bar distract you. The Shadow Broker is a ghost. We do not chase ghosts."
"Agreed, Captain. But sometimes you have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow," Adam said with a hint of a smile. He was standing with the two groups, a bridge between two worlds, and they were all looking at him as if he was the glue holding everything together. Taylor was still there, now talking with Robin. Ted was still wistfully dreaming about the woman with the yellow umbrella, but with a new sense of hope. The world felt a little more sane.
[SYSTEM: New Mission Log: Investigate 'Shadow Broker'. Pizza Shop Sting.]