Crossover Fic: Band of Buggered, Or; The Team Least Likely To
Title: Band of Buggered, Or; The Team Least Likely To
Fandom: Torchwood. With some very special guests, including some characteres from Spooks (aka MI-5, American peeps), Gavin and Stacey and How I Met Your Mother. Look, I said this was crack!fic, alright. Wait, I didn't? Hang on...
Rating / Genre: PG-13, Gen. Crossover crack!fic. There. Are you happy now?
Words: 1075.
Spoilers: Torchwood season two, pre-Children of Earth. Season one in its level of maturity.
Disclaimer/ Schmoopy Dedication: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and the good people of Cardiff. For my fellow wrisomisfu miserable fucks, whether they want it or not. And also for ignipes, because I missed her birthday yesterday and have no excuse. *irons hands*
Note: I have no clue where this came from. None. It's a gen / crack! fic featuring four fandoms I've never written for before, one show I've stopped watching, all held together with a Torchwood biscuit-y base. You have been warned.
Summary: Five people who never worked for Torchwood Three. And for very good reason.
~~~
Barney:
Barney Stinson is surprisingly upbeat, for a man who keeps running at the solid force field that seems to have not only brought him to the Hub but confined him there. He's told Robin, Marshall and Lilly that he was transferred to the Tunguska office for the foreseeable future and no, he doesn't know when he'll be able to come home from Freezerville. He jokes, almost daily, that living in the strange hollowed cavern in central Cardiff seems to relate to pretty much the same thing.
The definition of insanity, Jack delights in reminding him, "is performing the same action over and over and expecting different results." Barney tells Jack that this is also defines the sex life of a singleton in New York.
When the Doctor next comes knocking on Torchwood's door for a cup of Tardis sugar, he fixes Barney's space-time lockdown and offers him a lift home. After nine months living underground, hearing tales of Saturday nights in Cardiff Bay and the hen nights that stalk them, suddenly Barney seems a lot less keen for an immediate return the Big Apple and respectfully declines. He claims it's going to be legen- wait for it- dary.
~~~
Peter:
Like Barney, Peter Petrelli turned up without notice. Unlike Barney, Peter is absolutely no fun to be around. At all. Furthermore, he claims to be expecting a delivery from the rift. A girl called Caitlin, he tells them all morosely, as often as he can work into the conversation.
"As if," says Ianto.
"Stranger things have happened," reckons Jack.
"He's a twat," states Gwen.
To be honest, the only reason they haven't retconnned him yet is because last month Peter fell through the ceiling, broke his neck and then pulled a Jack, working his bones back into alignment with a sound that actually makes Gwen gag. Since the loss of Owen and Toshiko, immortality is a trait that all three remaining members of Torchwood have come to value more highly and making fun of Peter seems a lot less entertaining then it once would have, even if he is a big old drama queen. After a lot of cajoling, the truth finally comes out over a pint and it starts off a good story, but goes seriously downhill when Peter starts moaning on about his daddy issues and the moral pliability of his frankly megalomaniacal brother.
No one's quite sure what to do with him, but Peter seems determined to stay, so they let him on the condition he mopes less and they put him to work. Although none of them really buy this "delivery" story, given that Peter is indestructible, can fly and stop time (even if round the rift it gives him a migraine), he is a pretty damn useful guy to have around. Besides, up until now getting out the ladders to clean up Myfanwy's nest every month had been a real pain in the arse.
~~~
Fox Mulder:
There are few issues on which any branch of Torchwood has ever reached a consensus, but all team members of Torchwood Three circa 2009 agree it was highly unfortunate that a man who had dedicated his life to proving aliens' existence had it conclusively proved to him on the same day he was killed by small group of abandoned Adipose gone feral.
~~~
Lucas:
Life in Torchwood Three hasn't been nearly as much fun since Barney returned to New York after shagging Charlotte Church, but having Lucas North smoulder about the place on secondment from MI-5 does make up for it a little. Jack thinks he's sexy. Gwen thinks he's only some mascara and three deliberately obscure diminished ninth chords away from starting his own emo band, but she's quite content with that. Ianto is beginning to wonder if his personal, "It's only Jack" mantra is something that might be worth considering expansion. Even Rhys thinks he's a bit of alright.
Lucas is only with Torchwood for a month, to co-ordinate government and Torchwood activities for the same old, "rift due to flare and possibly take out Western civilisation with a temporal EMP," shenanigans that rolls round every fifty years or so. Predictably, the sky doesn't fall and Lucas returns to London, taking his long legs and potent sexual magnetism with him. Torchwood Three lives to fight another day.
Still; they all shagged him, just in case.
~~~
Nessa:
There are few things in life that scare Gwen Cooper these days, but Vanessa Shanessa Jenkins comes pretty high up the list. She's not employed by any government agency. UNIT has no record of her. Her name doesn't mean a thing to Sarah-Jane. This has been thoroughly checked.
She is not a spy. She is not an alien. She is not a past lover of any of them, or a random Torchwood groupie.
What Nessa is, however, is the only person ever to put a Weevil in a headlock.
"I'm not being funny, like," Nessa says, "But I's got better things to do than clean up a caravan park for a secret alien taskforce, alright?"
"Yes," replies Ianto, trying hard to maintain his well-practiced poker face. "Absolutely." The weevil is staring at him. Ianto almost feels sorry for it.
Once Nessa has delivered the Weevil to a nice cosy cell of its very own, she introduces herself to Jack and Gwen. It's bracing.
"You ever need a hand with this alien malarkey, give us a call; I'm handy with a wide range of heavy duty industrial machinery and my rates are reasonable."
"You don't say," says Jack, taking the card she offers and studying it. His eyes widen and he hands it silently to Gwen.
"I do, as it happens," Nessa responds, as she sees herself out. "I makes no claim to be an expert in the field of all forms of extra-terrestrial life, but let's just say there's a few of those Cybermen bastards who wished they hadn't come round the Barry scrapyard and leave it at that."
"Yes, let's." Ianto blinks. Jack and Gwen remain non-verbal.
"I'll say nos da then," she says with a nod, leaving the usually composed team slightly shell-shocked and oddly, a little turned on.
Years later, Nessa's card is still stuck to Jack's small office fridge. On the back, the world's most terrifyingly specific testimonial; a smattering of circular symbols and a single line of type-
"Jack: March 9th, 2014. Call her." The Doctor.
~~~
Fandom: Torchwood. With some very special guests, including some characteres from Spooks (aka MI-5, American peeps), Gavin and Stacey and How I Met Your Mother. Look, I said this was crack!fic, alright. Wait, I didn't? Hang on...
Rating / Genre: PG-13, Gen. Crossover crack!fic. There. Are you happy now?
Words: 1075.
Spoilers: Torchwood season two, pre-Children of Earth. Season one in its level of maturity.
Disclaimer/ Schmoopy Dedication: Torchwood belongs to the BBC and the good people of Cardiff. For my fellow wrisomisfu miserable fucks, whether they want it or not. And also for ignipes, because I missed her birthday yesterday and have no excuse. *irons hands*
Note: I have no clue where this came from. None. It's a gen / crack! fic featuring four fandoms I've never written for before, one show I've stopped watching, all held together with a Torchwood biscuit-y base. You have been warned.
Summary: Five people who never worked for Torchwood Three. And for very good reason.
~~~
Barney:
Barney Stinson is surprisingly upbeat, for a man who keeps running at the solid force field that seems to have not only brought him to the Hub but confined him there. He's told Robin, Marshall and Lilly that he was transferred to the Tunguska office for the foreseeable future and no, he doesn't know when he'll be able to come home from Freezerville. He jokes, almost daily, that living in the strange hollowed cavern in central Cardiff seems to relate to pretty much the same thing.
The definition of insanity, Jack delights in reminding him, "is performing the same action over and over and expecting different results." Barney tells Jack that this is also defines the sex life of a singleton in New York.
When the Doctor next comes knocking on Torchwood's door for a cup of Tardis sugar, he fixes Barney's space-time lockdown and offers him a lift home. After nine months living underground, hearing tales of Saturday nights in Cardiff Bay and the hen nights that stalk them, suddenly Barney seems a lot less keen for an immediate return the Big Apple and respectfully declines. He claims it's going to be legen- wait for it- dary.
~~~
Peter:
Like Barney, Peter Petrelli turned up without notice. Unlike Barney, Peter is absolutely no fun to be around. At all. Furthermore, he claims to be expecting a delivery from the rift. A girl called Caitlin, he tells them all morosely, as often as he can work into the conversation.
"As if," says Ianto.
"Stranger things have happened," reckons Jack.
"He's a twat," states Gwen.
To be honest, the only reason they haven't retconnned him yet is because last month Peter fell through the ceiling, broke his neck and then pulled a Jack, working his bones back into alignment with a sound that actually makes Gwen gag. Since the loss of Owen and Toshiko, immortality is a trait that all three remaining members of Torchwood have come to value more highly and making fun of Peter seems a lot less entertaining then it once would have, even if he is a big old drama queen. After a lot of cajoling, the truth finally comes out over a pint and it starts off a good story, but goes seriously downhill when Peter starts moaning on about his daddy issues and the moral pliability of his frankly megalomaniacal brother.
No one's quite sure what to do with him, but Peter seems determined to stay, so they let him on the condition he mopes less and they put him to work. Although none of them really buy this "delivery" story, given that Peter is indestructible, can fly and stop time (even if round the rift it gives him a migraine), he is a pretty damn useful guy to have around. Besides, up until now getting out the ladders to clean up Myfanwy's nest every month had been a real pain in the arse.
~~~
Fox Mulder:
There are few issues on which any branch of Torchwood has ever reached a consensus, but all team members of Torchwood Three circa 2009 agree it was highly unfortunate that a man who had dedicated his life to proving aliens' existence had it conclusively proved to him on the same day he was killed by small group of abandoned Adipose gone feral.
~~~
Lucas:
Life in Torchwood Three hasn't been nearly as much fun since Barney returned to New York after shagging Charlotte Church, but having Lucas North smoulder about the place on secondment from MI-5 does make up for it a little. Jack thinks he's sexy. Gwen thinks he's only some mascara and three deliberately obscure diminished ninth chords away from starting his own emo band, but she's quite content with that. Ianto is beginning to wonder if his personal, "It's only Jack" mantra is something that might be worth considering expansion. Even Rhys thinks he's a bit of alright.
Lucas is only with Torchwood for a month, to co-ordinate government and Torchwood activities for the same old, "rift due to flare and possibly take out Western civilisation with a temporal EMP," shenanigans that rolls round every fifty years or so. Predictably, the sky doesn't fall and Lucas returns to London, taking his long legs and potent sexual magnetism with him. Torchwood Three lives to fight another day.
Still; they all shagged him, just in case.
~~~
Nessa:
There are few things in life that scare Gwen Cooper these days, but Vanessa Shanessa Jenkins comes pretty high up the list. She's not employed by any government agency. UNIT has no record of her. Her name doesn't mean a thing to Sarah-Jane. This has been thoroughly checked.
She is not a spy. She is not an alien. She is not a past lover of any of them, or a random Torchwood groupie.
What Nessa is, however, is the only person ever to put a Weevil in a headlock.
"I'm not being funny, like," Nessa says, "But I's got better things to do than clean up a caravan park for a secret alien taskforce, alright?"
"Yes," replies Ianto, trying hard to maintain his well-practiced poker face. "Absolutely." The weevil is staring at him. Ianto almost feels sorry for it.
Once Nessa has delivered the Weevil to a nice cosy cell of its very own, she introduces herself to Jack and Gwen. It's bracing.
"You ever need a hand with this alien malarkey, give us a call; I'm handy with a wide range of heavy duty industrial machinery and my rates are reasonable."
"You don't say," says Jack, taking the card she offers and studying it. His eyes widen and he hands it silently to Gwen.
"I do, as it happens," Nessa responds, as she sees herself out. "I makes no claim to be an expert in the field of all forms of extra-terrestrial life, but let's just say there's a few of those Cybermen bastards who wished they hadn't come round the Barry scrapyard and leave it at that."
"Yes, let's." Ianto blinks. Jack and Gwen remain non-verbal.
"I'll say nos da then," she says with a nod, leaving the usually composed team slightly shell-shocked and oddly, a little turned on.
Years later, Nessa's card is still stuck to Jack's small office fridge. On the back, the world's most terrifyingly specific testimonial; a smattering of circular symbols and a single line of type-
"Jack: March 9th, 2014. Call her." The Doctor.
~~~