Chapter 12: The Missing Package Mystery, Part 4 of 6
Ted Mosby crouched by the fire escape window, knees aching against hardwood, his brown eyes fixed on Marshall's massive frame.
The air carried rust and feathers, a faint tang, the hallway light glinting off the pigeon camera's wires in Marshall's gentle hands.
Insane. A pigeon detective, Ted thought, the grit on his teeth grinding as he shifted, back twinging sharply.
"Come on, little feathered detective," Marshall whispered, adjusting the lens with precision, his sandy hair wild.
"Daddy needs you to solve this case. You're our eye in the sky."
Phoebe stood guard, finger to lips, her psychic nod intense, necklaces jingling softly against silence.
"The cosmic tides were right, Marshall. The pigeon is about to deliver," she said, hushed, a shiver down Ted's spine.
A sharp click echoed, a door opening, the noise jarring his nerves, the chill biting deeper.
They retreated, floorboards creaking under hurried steps, ducking inside as Mrs. Jenkins shuffled past.
Her silver bun gleamed, starched blouse crisp, a T. Pendergrass box clutched, her gray eyes distressed.
Her posture sagged, a crack in her armor, a sigh escaping like a deflating tire, hollow in Ted's ears.
She stopped, adjusting glasses with a trembling hand, the box trembling too, Ted's gut tightening.
The package matched Rachel's find, a tarnished silver locket peeking from her collar, glinting like a beacon.
The silence thickened, heavier than the box, the group—Rachel, Monica, Ross, Ted, Barney, Lily, Chandler—staring from the doorway.
"It wasn't… it wasn't stolen," Mrs. Jenkins said, her clipped voice shaky, words trembling like leaves.
"I… I misplaced it," she continued, pointing with a trembling finger, the motion unsteady.
"I found the mailing box down in the lobby, near the trash can. I thought the delivery guy had just left it down there and that the sticker had ripped on the way out."
"It was my locket," she confessed, fear of disorder overriding authority, shoulders sagging.
"My son sent me a replacement for my old one. I saw the box sitting there, empty, and thought he'd forgotten the new one."
"I took the empty package upstairs to see if I could figure out what happened to the locket. But… the locket was on my dresser the whole time."
She looked at Monica, eyes pleading, lines deepening with shame.
"It was the old one he sent a replacement for. I just… got mixed up," she said, voice breaking.
"I'm sorry. I just saw the torn box and the mailroom… and I got confused. I thought someone had taken it from the box before it got to me."
Monica felt the air leave her lungs, the climax a forgetfulness, a punch to her control-driven core.
"Mrs. Jenkins, it's alright," she said, softening, reaching for the box, her hand steady despite chaos.
"I'll make sure it gets re-labeled. But you have to be more careful with tenant mail."
Rachel stepped past, her green eyes catching Mrs. Jenkins's exhaustion, a mirror to her runaway fears.
"Hey. It happens," she said, warm, squeezing the woman's shoulder, the fabric rough.
"Look, we've all misplaced an important package before. No big deal. We're all here. It's over."
The empathy stirred Ted, a flicker of admiration warming his chest, collar adjusted.
A triumphant flapping erupted, electronic chirps jolting him, Marshall and Phoebe cheering.
"He got her! He got her!" Marshall boomed, holding the camera aloft, the blurry image showing Mrs. Jenkins.
"Yes! Pigeon victory!" Phoebe shrieked, dancing a jig with Marshall, feet tapping wildly.
Lily grabbed her brush, green eyes alight with fire.
"I'm painting this. The Triumphant Pigeon!" she said, rushing to her mural, bristles whispering.
Barney emerged, briefcase creaking, blue eyes furious, flinging it open.
"Hold on! I had an elaborate Detective Finale planned!" he said, voice rising with indignation.
"I was going to unmask her! I was going to use a laser pointer! I was going to say a legendary one-liner!"
He threw his arms out, knocking Chandler's mug, ceramic shattering into three pieces with a crack.
The dark liquid stained the rug, a bitter echo of Barney's flop, the scent sharp in Ted's nose.
Chandler stared, voice dry as desert sand.
"My coffee was literally better than your entire plan, Barney. Your suit's not clue-proof, and your finale just ruined my rental deposit."
Ted watched—relief, victory, the shattering—with a quiet smile, warmth easing his doubts.
It wasn't about the package, Future Ted realized, words echoing softly.
It was about them. About a lonely manager, a pigeon, and friends chasing brass that wasn't missing.
Ross picked up a shard, voice gentle, edges cutting his palm slightly.
"Good job, Ted. On the architectural firm clue. We're… we're good at this, the two of us."
"Yeah, Ross," Ted murmured, clapping his shoulder, the fabric warm.
"We're good."
Just maybe not at detecting, he added silently, the chill seeping through, collar adjusted one last time.
Later, Ted and Ross sat on the couch, mug pieces scattered like a puzzle.
Ted traced the armrest, fabric rough, their quiet reconciliation a step forward.
The city's hum filtered through, a heartbeat, the weight lifting slightly.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
Love [ Friends and HIMYM Crossover ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Friends and HIMYM Crossover ] with exclusive access to 35+ chapters on my Patreon, plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse, Breaking Bad , The Walking dead ,The Hobbit,Wednesday].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!