Primeval Fic: Five Crossovers That Aren't Going Anywhere
Title: Five crossovers that aren't going anywhere
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval, nor do I own any of the items crossed over with herein, which I will not enumerate here for fear of ruining the surprise. Except for the fact that I don't own Primeval: NW, which I'm mentioning for spoilers to last week's episode for its creature of the week. My apologies to anyone who stumbles over that.
Summary: Several crossovers that will not come to fruition for a variety of reasons.
Rating: PG
Notes: If you think you want to run with one of these, feel free. Also, they feel a tad top-heavy with Connor, but since Connor's my kink you shall all have to live with it. The last one . . . well . . . it's kind of just something I really wanted last week.
******************************
He was waiting for the moment. That perfect moment to end this. Not that he wanted to, of course, he loved everything about the job and the people there, but he'd been the only one who could do this and come out of it okay, and he could never let anyone know how, either. So, when the moment came, they'd think he'd died.
At least, that was the plan.
With a resounding double crack, two people apparated into the room with him, taking but a moment to note the collection of dangerous creatures, before they were hurling stunners left right and centre. And then the brunette with the bushy hair had him by the ear. "Harry James Potter you take that glamour off this instant! What in Merlin's name were you thinking!?"
"Ow! 'Mione!"
"And this is not in the least subtle! Really? Taking all of Sirius and Remus' best features and using them to make your new face, and tacking on the last name of 'Hart'? I'm amazed Rita Skeeter never found you!"
"Hermione," Ron said.
"No." She was thoroughly irate now. "I have absolutely had enough of this. You will come home this instant and stop gallivanting about pretending you're not yourself."
With a crash and thud, the door he'd gone to such trouble to close in the process of faking his death slammed open. "Stephen? What the hell is going on?"
"Yes, Stephen," Hermione said bitingly. "What is going on?"
She did let go of his ear, however. "Hermione, meet Dr. Nicholas Cutter, a muggle evolutionary theorist from Met Central University and my boss. Cutter, meet my two best friends who have pretty much smashed through a thousand years of secrecy and broken a great many laws in the process. Congratulations, Hermione. You've become a far worse rule-breaker and bad influence than Ron and I could ever be."
Hermione squeaked.
****************************************
Abby sighed as she came back from the loo at the police station. She couldn't believe that Philip Burton had run them out of their own country. Now they were stuck living in America, and while she had the qualifications on her CV to get another job at a zoo, Connor's qualifications were so wrapped up in the Official Secrets Act, he was having to work at a Best Buy selling people ipods while he got another degree.
The week had not been a good one, but it had been topped off with them discovering their rented flat had been broken into and their tv stolen. So, here they were, giving a report to the police and . . . Connor was not where she'd left him. He was supposed to wait for her. Hopefully the police had got around to helping them, and he'd just gone off to get on with telling the police things, but this was Connor, and she had a bad feeling about it.
Her bad feeling was validated when she stumbled across a sort of conference room, and Connor's strident voice was issuing from within. "Look, you're not factoring the magnetic spikes into the equations, and that's going to keep you from locating the thing," he was saying.
"I don't need to factor them in," said a young man with messy, curly hair and standing in front of a whiteboard of equations. "The magnetic spikes won't affect the final numbers, here," he declared as he scribbled on the board.
Connor snatched up the marker. "But they will, because the . . ." Abby tuned out his technobabble, feeling a headache coming on.
"Connor, leave the nice people to do their jobs," she said. "We still need to report the break in."
"Charlie, we don't even need that information," put in a handsome-looking chap with a gun. "Maybe you and your friend could argue about it some other time?"
"But Abby, he's wrong," Connor whinged.
"But Don, this approach to the whole question of magnetic variances is-"
"Connor!"
"Charlie!"
Two dark-haired math geeks turned their backs and went back to the white board. Abby sighed. "You'll take yours, I'll take mine?" she asked, marching over to her boyfriend and dragging him off.
"Why are they so much trouble?" agreed the man tacitly.
"Abby!"
"Don!"
************************************
The breakup with Robin had been ugly. Underneath that well-adjusted (and very hot) exterior, beat the heart of a man with so many mommy issues, he made Faith seem like the poster child for positive parental relationships. Robin just looked at a slayer, and he saw his mother. It was a bit of a problem, since Faith didn't much like the idea of doing a guy who was thinking about mommy when she sucked him off.
So, here she was, at a bar, bored and watching some cute guy nurse a beer. He'd been staring at it for so long, Faith was pretty sure it wasn't even remotely cold anymore. Something about his hangdog expression called to her, though. She plonked down next to him. "So, that beer done you wrong some way?"
"Sorry?"
He was English. "Just wondering, since you've been glaring at it so long, I wondered if you were tryin' to set it on fire with the power of your mind."
"No. I just . . . got dumped, only not really because we were never dating, but you'd think she wouldn't have kissed me and all if she was as repulsed as she said." Well, he wasn't a Wesley or Giles sort of English. Or a Giles when he was getting his Ripper on sort of English. More like Spike, but not really, and this one wasn't all punk and danger, just an adorable sort of cute that made her want to kind of cuddle him.
"Ouch," Faith said. Because, really, ouch. "Well, it was that or ask you if this was one of those British warm beer things, which I never get."
He smiled a little, dark eyes lightening a moment, and Faith upped him a few points from adorable to really, really nice. Not super-hot, but nice. "So, any reason you're over here talking to me?"
"Just curious, I guess," she said. "So, you're from merry olde England?"
That startled laughter out of him. "Never heard it called that before. I mean, not when someone wasn't talking about Robin Hood."
"I know some British types," Faith confided. "It's all about seeing how many times we can get Giles to clean his glasses, or Spike to say bad British words."
"Really?" he looked interested and amused, now.
Faith put on her best Spike impression, which was kind of terrible, but she gave it the old college try. "Bollocks! You bloody bints stop that or I'll tear you new arseholes!"
He started to really laugh, and the sparkle in his eyes added a few more points. He was now definitely very interesting. "I don't know whether I should worry about you doing the same to me, or be appalled at that accent. What's that supposed to be anyhow? The bastard child of south London and the bad part of Cardiff?"
"Hell if I know," Faith said. "I never actually asked Spike where he's from exactly. Faith Lehane, by the way."
"Connor Temple."
It didn't take long at all for her to propose heading back to her place for some fun, and he looked hesitant a moment then seemed to decide with the hell with whatever was worrying him. They'd gone only a half a block, when something down an alleyway caught their attention. It was a portal of some kind. She was about to call Buffy and the rest in, maybe get someone to look into it, when Connor's shout caught her attention. "Faith! Look out!"
It was a fucking velociraptor. Like from Jurassic Park, only with feathers. "Fuck," she said, and dove away from a slash of the claws, then donkey kicked the thing in the face.
When she came to her feet, her cutie-pie wasn't looking cute so much as dangerous and kinda really hot. "Right, then. Come on you bastard," he said, holding a piece of pipe like he knew how to handle it. When it lunged at him, he spun and gave it a beautiful whack with his makeshift weapon. Together they tag-teamed it through the portal.
"Now what?" Faith asked, rhetorically. "These kinds of things never just end when you toss the thing back through. There's gotta be a way to deal with it."
He was at a car, staring in through the window, his eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you know how to break into cars, do you?" he asked a little plaintively.
"You gotta plan?"
He had a plan, and even though Faith didn't understand more than one word in ten that came out of his mouth, he did something with the car's computerised systems, an ipad that had been left in there, the batteries and the jumper cables that made the portal ball up. "That should hold it until it closes on its own," he said.
The hungry and horny principle had never been more at play. Faith looked at this guy who'd managed to be cute, super-smart, a half decent partner to have at her back and super sexy, and told him, "There's a lotta stuff we gotta talk about, but first, we're heading back to my place and seeing if you live up to my expectations. Now."
Half a box of condoms later, Faith decided he definitely lived up to those.
********************************
He'd been alone for so very long.
He was quite startled, then, when his lovely ship dragged him off course, then stopped dead in the middle of space with an expectant whine. He looked about, checked all the instruments, his own memory, everything, but there was nothing there. "There's nothing here," he told her.
She seemed to buck and grumble, and suddenly a ripple appeared in front of him, distorting the space. As he looked longer, examined more closely, he abruptly saw it. There was a distortion here, but it wasn't a distortion. It was another TARDIS. Not like his own, though. Its chameleon circuitry was hiding more than just a device to move through relative time and space. Something had been done to its power source, and his own girl somehow managed to enter the other one.
Inside was a sort of pocket universe. Just a bit. And the walls of this other TARDIS had been made sort of invisible from the inside, creating the illusion that the world within was a part of regular space. In fact, there was a whole solar system in there, one that could actually be transplanted outside this TARDIS. When he got closer, his confusion grew, because it wasn't just any old random planet, it was Earth.
But not his Earth. Not Rose's or Martha's or Sarah's Earth, but it was Earth. The close proximity of the world to the temporal core that made up the TARDIS had done some very odd things to this Earth's composition and temporal cohesiveness. All over, all the time, little portals through time would open and close.
This was too curious not to investigate, so investigate he did. Tripping gaily into the secret government facility, just for the nostalgic feel of it, garnered him rather a lot of guns pointed at him. "Hello, just looking in, you know."
"No, we don't know," said a quite snappily dressed man. "If you wouldn't mind explaining yourself?"
"I actually rather would mind," the Doctor admitted. "You see, until I'm quite certain what's going on here, I'd just as soon not put myself into an uncomfortable spot."
"Perhaps you misunderstand me," said the man sharply. "This is not a request. Someone take this man and put him somewhere contained."
The flash of light on the surface caught his eye. It was one of those mobile telephones so many humans loved to wave about all the time.
It wasn't a phone. It was a device used to hold the consciousness of a Time Lord. Instinct made him do it, the reactions and knowledge of lifetimes had him lunge forward, triggering the device the young man held. Staggering back, a flash of light enveloping him, people all over the room shouted, "Connor!"
This Connor chap looked up, and the Doctor saw it. Could nearly hear it, one heart become two, perception and understanding and infinity all colliding in the gaze before him. They locked eyes, and the Doctor had another shock as the young man, young Time Lord, really, said, "Uncle?"
"You . . ." there wasn't anything he could say as they flew across the space between them.
"I knew you'd come someday," murmured his nephew, the little loomling he'd left behind, thinking he'd never see any of his people, let alone his family again. "You'd said . . . all the things you said before you left to stop the daleks. No one listened, but I was able to talk a TARDIS into helping. I just knew if there was a second Earth you'd come and look."
"What did you do?" he asked, mystified but joyful.
"You were taking us all out of time, out of history," explained the brilliant boy. "So, I had the TARDIS move us all into a pocket of time."
"Us?" he asked.
His nephew nodded. "There's a few of us. We sort of wake up when it's close to the end, then get ourselves reborn and go back into the watches." Looking a little wry, "I think there's a couple of us more conscious or something than others. Cutter's wife, for one."
"Oh?" the Doctor asked, unable to believe this. "And who is she really."
Connor shrugged. "One of my classmates. She always did fancy getting herself a name like, 'The Coming Storm.'"
It all descended into chaos, but the Doctor didn't care. Because even if it was a planet of children, even if some were human, some were half and half and some were pure Gallifreyan, he wasn't alone anymore.
*********************************
They were all pressed against the far wall of the train car as the giant bird tried to kill them. Suddenly, something ran past, another bird, it seemed, distracting the other, who left to give chase apparently. In the chaos, they somehow all found their way to the anomaly, where the two birds seemed to be fighting over some sort of long, whitish, bonelike object.
"Oi! You two turkeys give that back!" shouted a voice. From the anomaly had emerged a man in tattered jeans and checkered shirt. "That's right, come on!"
The two birds lunged at the man, who dove and rolled out of the way with alacrity, somehow getting the thing away from the birds in the process. "Get back in there!" he shouted, swinging it like a quarterstaff and sending first one, then the next, into the ball of light.
Evan stepped forward. "Who are you?" he demanded. Was this another of this A-R-C people? He wasn't wearing the jacket, but that could mean very little.
The ragged man grinned and said, "Daniel Quinn, formerly of the London Police force. You?"
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Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval, nor do I own any of the items crossed over with herein, which I will not enumerate here for fear of ruining the surprise. Except for the fact that I don't own Primeval: NW, which I'm mentioning for spoilers to last week's episode for its creature of the week. My apologies to anyone who stumbles over that.
Summary: Several crossovers that will not come to fruition for a variety of reasons.
Rating: PG
Notes: If you think you want to run with one of these, feel free. Also, they feel a tad top-heavy with Connor, but since Connor's my kink you shall all have to live with it. The last one . . . well . . . it's kind of just something I really wanted last week.
******************************
He was waiting for the moment. That perfect moment to end this. Not that he wanted to, of course, he loved everything about the job and the people there, but he'd been the only one who could do this and come out of it okay, and he could never let anyone know how, either. So, when the moment came, they'd think he'd died.
At least, that was the plan.
With a resounding double crack, two people apparated into the room with him, taking but a moment to note the collection of dangerous creatures, before they were hurling stunners left right and centre. And then the brunette with the bushy hair had him by the ear. "Harry James Potter you take that glamour off this instant! What in Merlin's name were you thinking!?"
"Ow! 'Mione!"
"And this is not in the least subtle! Really? Taking all of Sirius and Remus' best features and using them to make your new face, and tacking on the last name of 'Hart'? I'm amazed Rita Skeeter never found you!"
"Hermione," Ron said.
"No." She was thoroughly irate now. "I have absolutely had enough of this. You will come home this instant and stop gallivanting about pretending you're not yourself."
With a crash and thud, the door he'd gone to such trouble to close in the process of faking his death slammed open. "Stephen? What the hell is going on?"
"Yes, Stephen," Hermione said bitingly. "What is going on?"
She did let go of his ear, however. "Hermione, meet Dr. Nicholas Cutter, a muggle evolutionary theorist from Met Central University and my boss. Cutter, meet my two best friends who have pretty much smashed through a thousand years of secrecy and broken a great many laws in the process. Congratulations, Hermione. You've become a far worse rule-breaker and bad influence than Ron and I could ever be."
Hermione squeaked.
****************************************
Abby sighed as she came back from the loo at the police station. She couldn't believe that Philip Burton had run them out of their own country. Now they were stuck living in America, and while she had the qualifications on her CV to get another job at a zoo, Connor's qualifications were so wrapped up in the Official Secrets Act, he was having to work at a Best Buy selling people ipods while he got another degree.
The week had not been a good one, but it had been topped off with them discovering their rented flat had been broken into and their tv stolen. So, here they were, giving a report to the police and . . . Connor was not where she'd left him. He was supposed to wait for her. Hopefully the police had got around to helping them, and he'd just gone off to get on with telling the police things, but this was Connor, and she had a bad feeling about it.
Her bad feeling was validated when she stumbled across a sort of conference room, and Connor's strident voice was issuing from within. "Look, you're not factoring the magnetic spikes into the equations, and that's going to keep you from locating the thing," he was saying.
"I don't need to factor them in," said a young man with messy, curly hair and standing in front of a whiteboard of equations. "The magnetic spikes won't affect the final numbers, here," he declared as he scribbled on the board.
Connor snatched up the marker. "But they will, because the . . ." Abby tuned out his technobabble, feeling a headache coming on.
"Connor, leave the nice people to do their jobs," she said. "We still need to report the break in."
"Charlie, we don't even need that information," put in a handsome-looking chap with a gun. "Maybe you and your friend could argue about it some other time?"
"But Abby, he's wrong," Connor whinged.
"But Don, this approach to the whole question of magnetic variances is-"
"Connor!"
"Charlie!"
Two dark-haired math geeks turned their backs and went back to the white board. Abby sighed. "You'll take yours, I'll take mine?" she asked, marching over to her boyfriend and dragging him off.
"Why are they so much trouble?" agreed the man tacitly.
"Abby!"
"Don!"
************************************
The breakup with Robin had been ugly. Underneath that well-adjusted (and very hot) exterior, beat the heart of a man with so many mommy issues, he made Faith seem like the poster child for positive parental relationships. Robin just looked at a slayer, and he saw his mother. It was a bit of a problem, since Faith didn't much like the idea of doing a guy who was thinking about mommy when she sucked him off.
So, here she was, at a bar, bored and watching some cute guy nurse a beer. He'd been staring at it for so long, Faith was pretty sure it wasn't even remotely cold anymore. Something about his hangdog expression called to her, though. She plonked down next to him. "So, that beer done you wrong some way?"
"Sorry?"
He was English. "Just wondering, since you've been glaring at it so long, I wondered if you were tryin' to set it on fire with the power of your mind."
"No. I just . . . got dumped, only not really because we were never dating, but you'd think she wouldn't have kissed me and all if she was as repulsed as she said." Well, he wasn't a Wesley or Giles sort of English. Or a Giles when he was getting his Ripper on sort of English. More like Spike, but not really, and this one wasn't all punk and danger, just an adorable sort of cute that made her want to kind of cuddle him.
"Ouch," Faith said. Because, really, ouch. "Well, it was that or ask you if this was one of those British warm beer things, which I never get."
He smiled a little, dark eyes lightening a moment, and Faith upped him a few points from adorable to really, really nice. Not super-hot, but nice. "So, any reason you're over here talking to me?"
"Just curious, I guess," she said. "So, you're from merry olde England?"
That startled laughter out of him. "Never heard it called that before. I mean, not when someone wasn't talking about Robin Hood."
"I know some British types," Faith confided. "It's all about seeing how many times we can get Giles to clean his glasses, or Spike to say bad British words."
"Really?" he looked interested and amused, now.
Faith put on her best Spike impression, which was kind of terrible, but she gave it the old college try. "Bollocks! You bloody bints stop that or I'll tear you new arseholes!"
He started to really laugh, and the sparkle in his eyes added a few more points. He was now definitely very interesting. "I don't know whether I should worry about you doing the same to me, or be appalled at that accent. What's that supposed to be anyhow? The bastard child of south London and the bad part of Cardiff?"
"Hell if I know," Faith said. "I never actually asked Spike where he's from exactly. Faith Lehane, by the way."
"Connor Temple."
It didn't take long at all for her to propose heading back to her place for some fun, and he looked hesitant a moment then seemed to decide with the hell with whatever was worrying him. They'd gone only a half a block, when something down an alleyway caught their attention. It was a portal of some kind. She was about to call Buffy and the rest in, maybe get someone to look into it, when Connor's shout caught her attention. "Faith! Look out!"
It was a fucking velociraptor. Like from Jurassic Park, only with feathers. "Fuck," she said, and dove away from a slash of the claws, then donkey kicked the thing in the face.
When she came to her feet, her cutie-pie wasn't looking cute so much as dangerous and kinda really hot. "Right, then. Come on you bastard," he said, holding a piece of pipe like he knew how to handle it. When it lunged at him, he spun and gave it a beautiful whack with his makeshift weapon. Together they tag-teamed it through the portal.
"Now what?" Faith asked, rhetorically. "These kinds of things never just end when you toss the thing back through. There's gotta be a way to deal with it."
He was at a car, staring in through the window, his eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you know how to break into cars, do you?" he asked a little plaintively.
"You gotta plan?"
He had a plan, and even though Faith didn't understand more than one word in ten that came out of his mouth, he did something with the car's computerised systems, an ipad that had been left in there, the batteries and the jumper cables that made the portal ball up. "That should hold it until it closes on its own," he said.
The hungry and horny principle had never been more at play. Faith looked at this guy who'd managed to be cute, super-smart, a half decent partner to have at her back and super sexy, and told him, "There's a lotta stuff we gotta talk about, but first, we're heading back to my place and seeing if you live up to my expectations. Now."
Half a box of condoms later, Faith decided he definitely lived up to those.
********************************
He'd been alone for so very long.
He was quite startled, then, when his lovely ship dragged him off course, then stopped dead in the middle of space with an expectant whine. He looked about, checked all the instruments, his own memory, everything, but there was nothing there. "There's nothing here," he told her.
She seemed to buck and grumble, and suddenly a ripple appeared in front of him, distorting the space. As he looked longer, examined more closely, he abruptly saw it. There was a distortion here, but it wasn't a distortion. It was another TARDIS. Not like his own, though. Its chameleon circuitry was hiding more than just a device to move through relative time and space. Something had been done to its power source, and his own girl somehow managed to enter the other one.
Inside was a sort of pocket universe. Just a bit. And the walls of this other TARDIS had been made sort of invisible from the inside, creating the illusion that the world within was a part of regular space. In fact, there was a whole solar system in there, one that could actually be transplanted outside this TARDIS. When he got closer, his confusion grew, because it wasn't just any old random planet, it was Earth.
But not his Earth. Not Rose's or Martha's or Sarah's Earth, but it was Earth. The close proximity of the world to the temporal core that made up the TARDIS had done some very odd things to this Earth's composition and temporal cohesiveness. All over, all the time, little portals through time would open and close.
This was too curious not to investigate, so investigate he did. Tripping gaily into the secret government facility, just for the nostalgic feel of it, garnered him rather a lot of guns pointed at him. "Hello, just looking in, you know."
"No, we don't know," said a quite snappily dressed man. "If you wouldn't mind explaining yourself?"
"I actually rather would mind," the Doctor admitted. "You see, until I'm quite certain what's going on here, I'd just as soon not put myself into an uncomfortable spot."
"Perhaps you misunderstand me," said the man sharply. "This is not a request. Someone take this man and put him somewhere contained."
The flash of light on the surface caught his eye. It was one of those mobile telephones so many humans loved to wave about all the time.
It wasn't a phone. It was a device used to hold the consciousness of a Time Lord. Instinct made him do it, the reactions and knowledge of lifetimes had him lunge forward, triggering the device the young man held. Staggering back, a flash of light enveloping him, people all over the room shouted, "Connor!"
This Connor chap looked up, and the Doctor saw it. Could nearly hear it, one heart become two, perception and understanding and infinity all colliding in the gaze before him. They locked eyes, and the Doctor had another shock as the young man, young Time Lord, really, said, "Uncle?"
"You . . ." there wasn't anything he could say as they flew across the space between them.
"I knew you'd come someday," murmured his nephew, the little loomling he'd left behind, thinking he'd never see any of his people, let alone his family again. "You'd said . . . all the things you said before you left to stop the daleks. No one listened, but I was able to talk a TARDIS into helping. I just knew if there was a second Earth you'd come and look."
"What did you do?" he asked, mystified but joyful.
"You were taking us all out of time, out of history," explained the brilliant boy. "So, I had the TARDIS move us all into a pocket of time."
"Us?" he asked.
His nephew nodded. "There's a few of us. We sort of wake up when it's close to the end, then get ourselves reborn and go back into the watches." Looking a little wry, "I think there's a couple of us more conscious or something than others. Cutter's wife, for one."
"Oh?" the Doctor asked, unable to believe this. "And who is she really."
Connor shrugged. "One of my classmates. She always did fancy getting herself a name like, 'The Coming Storm.'"
It all descended into chaos, but the Doctor didn't care. Because even if it was a planet of children, even if some were human, some were half and half and some were pure Gallifreyan, he wasn't alone anymore.
*********************************
They were all pressed against the far wall of the train car as the giant bird tried to kill them. Suddenly, something ran past, another bird, it seemed, distracting the other, who left to give chase apparently. In the chaos, they somehow all found their way to the anomaly, where the two birds seemed to be fighting over some sort of long, whitish, bonelike object.
"Oi! You two turkeys give that back!" shouted a voice. From the anomaly had emerged a man in tattered jeans and checkered shirt. "That's right, come on!"
The two birds lunged at the man, who dove and rolled out of the way with alacrity, somehow getting the thing away from the birds in the process. "Get back in there!" he shouted, swinging it like a quarterstaff and sending first one, then the next, into the ball of light.
Evan stepped forward. "Who are you?" he demanded. Was this another of this A-R-C people? He wasn't wearing the jacket, but that could mean very little.
The ragged man grinned and said, "Daniel Quinn, formerly of the London Police force. You?"
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