Crossroads [Part 1]
Title: Crossroads [Part 1]
Summary: Part of the Forget You universe, unspecific sequel to Here Comes A Lion. Sherlock!Irene!Rowena and John!Helga meet Doctor!Salazar and Companion!Godric. Or, I ruin everyone's fandoms. There is a mystery death with puncture wounds involved, and Rowena's sure it's not vampires. Until Salazar and Godric come along to convince her and Helga otherwise. More adventures in Rome.
Fandom: Harry Potter/Doctor Who/BBC Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Godric/Salazar, Helga/Rowena (slight mentions of both)
Genre: AU, crossover, adventure, gen
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; swearing
Word Count: 2562
Author's Notes: I'm so very sorry.
Helga has her nose buried in the newest issue of her favourite medical journal when Rowena suddenly barges into their shared flat. Helga sighs and puts the journal away carefully on the coffee table beside her, waiting for the pacing and too-fast muttering to begin. "What's the matter, Ro?"
Rowena looks harried, which is strange for her, since she usually is either excited or bored. "I met a man. And he confuses me." She starts pacing up and down the sitting room, a frown on her face. Helga maintains eye contact with the fireplace and waits patiently for her friend to continue; Rowena's circular, repetitive walks always make her feel dizzy.
"He looks quite ordinary and boring. Scuffs on his coat show that he's been travelling, but the marks are unlike anything I've ever seen, which is saying something. Oh, don't look at me like that; you know quite well I keep a database on these things. More than what Scotland Yard is doing, for sure. And the credentials he flashed at me were very strange. They were perfect, almost too perfect. Nothing can be that perfect; even the most advanced forger makes mistakes. And Lestrade just believes him, the naive cow, just lets him stroll into the crime scene with his claim of being a government-recommended investigator. I've checked out his firm; it exists, but there's no record of him there, and…"
Normally, Helga doesn't dare interrupt Rowena, but she's noticed that her friend's not being herself. Rowena is anxious, and worried, and not Rowena at all. "Wait, Ro. When did you meet him, and where?"
Rowena stops her pacing abruptly and sits down in her armchair, her hands neatly poised in her lap, catching her breath in a few quick seconds. "I met him ten minutes ago. Central London. Townhouse. Woman was murdered with two puncture holes in her neck - don't you dare mention vampires- and Scotland Yard have no clue what's going on, as usual. Rycroft has a personal interest in the case, and he's the one who saddled that investigator with me, so I have two mouths breathing down my neck to solve this case. Or three, if you count that man's partner."
"Sal, I'm bored." Godric is lying on his back on the floor of the TARDIS console room with his eyes shut. He can hear Salazar mucking about below with the wires, and raps on the glass for his attention. "Sal. Why can't we go somewhere fun?"
Salazar's voice is muffled and slightly impatient. "I've told you already, Godric. There is something going on here, and I'm sure it's alien, and the people don't have a clue what's going on."
Godric smirks and yells back, "Are you sure? Or is this about that woman? The one with the fantastic tits."
"Shouldn't talk about her like that. And no." Salazar appears in Godric's vision, or rather, his long lean legs do. Godric resists the sudden urge to grab his ankles and pull him down to the floor. Salazar's no fun when he's serious. Though Godric does love to watch him get unravelled…
"Godric?"
He notices Sal staring at him with a stern face. "Yes, Captain, oh Captain? Or Doctor, my Doctor, rather." Godric waggles his eyebrows, and pouts when Salazar deepens his frown.
"Go take a shower. Cold. We're going to meet the lady and her partner in half an hour, and I don't want you showing her your…" Sal waves his hands about awkwardly, gesturing towards Godric's crotch. Godric gives him a leer and thrusts his hips lewdly forward to make him blush. Salazar does have a nice blush. "…your bits. Go. Now. Please."
Godric guffaws and practically struts his way to the bathroom. "Oh, Sal, I do love it when you beg." He doesn't need to turn his head to know that Salazar's face is all red.
---
They meet at the morgue, two men and two women. Well, technically, one man, two women, and an alien Time Lord. The coroner tells them nothing of note, so Lestrade steers him off to the office to get an official report, uncomfortable with the icy tension between Rowena and Salazar.
Helga does a quick examination of the body. "No bruising around the puncture wounds. Only conclusion is death by exsanguination, obviously." She shrugs, and nods at Rowena, before leaving with Godric for a meeting with Rycroft.
"Not married. No children. Nothing much… Ah. Came into London by the last train last night, and walked through Charing Cross in the rain." Rowena continues to talk to herself as she rifles through the bag of clothes, occasionally exclaiming a new thought or theory.
Salazar is impressed by her, but doesn't show it. Instead, he bends down to examine the wounds on the victim's neck, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to check for signs of alien damage. He flicks the tool expertly and reads the signals, noticing Rowena's interest out of the corner of his eye. "Sonic screwdriver," he says, pre-empting the question. "Not a real screwdriver. I just call it that because it looks like one."
Rowena looks him up and down, leaning against the table. "What does it do? And while we're at it, who are you? And don't you dare say investigator, because you and I both know that that's complete bollocks."
Salazar hesitates. "I'm a doctor." It isn't a lie, not really. Most people know him as The Doctor, anyhow.
"Liar." Rowena inches forward, her eyes suspicious. Her hand slips under her coat, and Salazar notices a fist being formed around something resembling a firearm.
"Well, all right, no need to get violent." Salazar knows that she won't rest till she gets some truth out of him. "Can you keep a secret?"
"I'm very discreet, I promise." Rowena smiles, her eyes cold.
Their noses are almost touching now, despite the height difference. Salazar swallows, and breathes out. "I'm a Time Lord. I travel through time and space to help people."
"A Time- what sort of quack are you? Do you take me for a fool, Salazar?" she says, pressing against him. "Who are you?"
The meeting with Rycroft ends quickly enough. They don't find out anything useful, other than Rycroft really wants the case solved, and that the dead woman is his personal secretary. It doesn't take much convincing on Godric's part to get Helga into the nearest pub for a drink. Neither of them wants to go back to a potential intellectually-draining match between Rowena and Salazar.
"Really? You're not taking the piss?" Helga takes another sip of her lager. "A Time Lord?"
Godric grins and leans back in his chair. "Yep. He goes around everywhere and every time in the fucking world, saving people's arses from aliens and shit." He gulps down a mouthful of beer, and enjoys the way the cool liquid slips down his throat. Salazar doesn't have a drinks cabinet in his TARDIS, the bastard, and hasn't forgotten about Rome yet. "What's with your bird? She seems… intense."
Helga lets out a low chuckle. "Ro's a handful, but you get used to it. Or you try to. I've saved her life once, from a homicidal taxi driver, and she's saved my life from a maniac genius. No aliens though. Ro doesn't believe in those things."
"What about vampires? Sal thinks that there's an alien vampire on the streets of London, y'know."
"She will strangle him if he mentions that." Helga laughs, downing the rest of her lager and motioning for a beer. Godric decides that he really likes Helga. "She's wicked with her riding crop."
Godric pictures Rowena with a riding crop and smirks unashamedly. "Kinky."
He chokes on the beer when Helga winks back with flushed cheeks and says, "You have no idea."
---
Salazar tries not to look triumphant when Rowena steps into the TARDIS and gasps. It was tough trying to convince Rowena that no, he was not a pervert and that his time machine was indeed a time machine and not his prick, but he'd managed it. With the help of a text message from Helga and Godric.
"Okay." Rowena's face still has that stubborn look, and he ducks as she swings to turn around to face him, her riding crop still clenched in her hand. (Who knew that a riding crop could be scarier than a gun?) "Fine. Time Lord and time travel. Scientifically possible. And probable. Fine. But vampires?"
Salazar motions towards the console, and starts typing up commands. He notices Rowena eyeing the symbols on his keyboard, and says, "It's Gallifreyan. The language of my people."
"And who are your people?" Rowena's curiosity has an undercurrent of cynicism, but Salazar can't fault her for that. "Are they all Time Lords and Ladies?"
He smiles ruefully. "They were. I'm possibly the last one left."
Rowena doesn't say much until Salazar pulls up the images he was looking for.
"Here. These are some examples of vampires. Not all of them are the blood-sucking type, but they're mostly aristocrats, because they have all the time to get to the higher levels of society." Salazar frowns and turns to Rowena, who's busy scrolling through all the species of vampire that Salazar's encountered before. "You said that you found marble. When looking through her things."
Rowena nods absently, taking a while to notice Salazar's gaze. "Oh. Yes. Travertine marble. Limestone, deposited by hot springs. Used often as a building material, mostly in Italy."
"You found something else." Salazar moves closer to the detective, who's still calmly looking at the screen. "You pocketed something that was out of place, something that was mistaken for a button."
Rowena's eyes are positively stone. "How did you know?"
Salazar doesn't blink. He uses what Godric calls his shark smile, and says, "It's from another time."
"Are we interrupting anything?" Godric's smirking when he enters the TARDIS with a speechless Helga. "I hope not, otherwise someone might have to be punished."
Salazar's face flushes crimson, and he glares at Godric's obvious tipsy state. "Remember what we agreed on? No drinking?"
"Fuck you," says Godric, sidling up to Rowena, who immediately whips out her riding crop as a warning. His hands go up in surrender even as he leers at her. "Oooh, Ravenboo, chill. Helga said you were kinky."
Rowena flashes a frown at Helga, who's giggling as she touches the console. "Helga, you know you're not supposed to-"
"Oh hush, Ro. We had a bit of a drink, to relax. Honestly, you two have such sticks up your arses. Well, in Salazar's case, that's probably every night!" Helga nearly falls over laughing at Godric's expression, and the both of them cling on to each other as Rowena and Salazar share identical looks of annoyance.
Soon after they calm down and finish listening to the briefing by Salazar, Helga and Godric settle onto the sofa and doze off. Godric's snores accompany the TARDIS's soft whines as they hurtle through space and time.
Rowena polishes her glasses as Salazar reads a book on Vincent van Gogh. Her vision is rather blurred without her spectacles, but she still keenly observes the way Salazar absorbs the information from the words in his lap. The man is still a mystery to be figured out, and Rowena, for the first time, thinks that she would rather not strip away the layers of this enigma to understand his core.
"You think really loudly, you know." Helga's soft voice breathes into her ear suddenly. "Always waking me up with your endless thoughts and theories and things." She yawns and stretches slowly, careful not to dislodge Godric's head from her shoulder.
Rowena smiles and fits her glasses back onto her ears, blinking as she turns towards Helga. Her left hand twitches uncertainly, and is then covered by the warmth of Helga's right, the cool of Helga's ring on her knuckles. She suddenly feels safe and certain, even though they're in a time machine with an alien and his partner, going to ancient Rome to capture a rogue vampire.
Salazar's standing right in front of him when Godric wakes up. Helga and Rowena are busy researching Rome's history and customs at the console, chattering away as if they're in a coffee shop.
"Hello, love." He reaches out with his arms and grabs the front of Sal's coat, grinning upwards at his serious face. "Relax, won't you? I'm all sober now."
Salazar allows himself to be pulled down next to Godric, who takes advantage of this by throwing a leg across Sal's lap, quirking his eyebrow mischievously. The two of them stay that way for a while, until Godric is bored and shifts until his whole back is leaning on Salazar's right shoulder.
"Will you ever behave?" Sal whispers, surreptitiously planting a kiss onto Godric's unruly head of hair. Godric's eyes catches Sal's and they both smile. Godric loves the way Sal smiles, but keeps his hands to himself.
"I don't know," he sighs dramatically. "It's fun to misbehave. And get under your collar. And clothes. And skin." He much rather prefers this, making Salazar turn red using language alone.
---
It's afternoon when they finally come out of the TARDIS. Rowena and Helga take a few minutes to realise that they are in fact in ancient Rome, and that they aren't dreaming. Godric is sulking, because once again Salazar has refused to let him bring Bacon-Cleaver along.
"Remember the last time we came to Rome and you told me to leave it behind? We were locked in a cell," he keeps saying, hissing into Sal's ear. "I need my sword, Sal, it makes me feel safe."
Salazar just gives Godric one of his patented long-suffering looks, and yanks him along by his elbow. "We're not going to be in trouble this time because you are not going to drink and make googly eyes at men who can kill you in an instant."
This does nothing to pacify Godric, who continues to pout as they walk along the streets of Rome. The other two are oblivious to the tension between Godric and Salazar; Rowena's eyes are taking in the architecture and geography of the place, while Helga is focusing on the people and the food.
Salazar's sonic screwdriver suddenly beeps in his pocket, and he swivels around just before a scream erupts from the nearest alley. The four of them rush towards the sound, along with other Romans in the marketplace, and find a young woman's dead body lying on the ground, two tiny puncture wounds on her neck.
When they untangle themselves from the crowd, Rowena starts down the alley, muttering, "I saw a red cloak going down here."
The other three run to keep up with Rowena's brisk pace, and they soon catch another glimpse of red cloth as it disappears into a familiar villa.
"Cowards."
Salazar knows the voice, and he turns around, tapping Godric on the shoulder as he comes face to face with Leery Roman and friends. The three are backed up by additional Roman soldiers, blocking the way out of the villa's compound.
"Ah, my lovely boys are back," another voice says, this time from the villa itself. It's more cultured and less gruff that Leery Roman's, and comes from a regal-looking man with glittering eyes. "And with a couple of pets as well."
Summary: Part of the Forget You universe, unspecific sequel to Here Comes A Lion. Sherlock!Irene!Rowena and John!Helga meet Doctor!Salazar and Companion!Godric. Or, I ruin everyone's fandoms. There is a mystery death with puncture wounds involved, and Rowena's sure it's not vampires. Until Salazar and Godric come along to convince her and Helga otherwise. More adventures in Rome.
Fandom: Harry Potter/Doctor Who/BBC Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Godric/Salazar, Helga/Rowena (slight mentions of both)
Genre: AU, crossover, adventure, gen
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; swearing
Word Count: 2562
Author's Notes: I'm so very sorry.
Helga has her nose buried in the newest issue of her favourite medical journal when Rowena suddenly barges into their shared flat. Helga sighs and puts the journal away carefully on the coffee table beside her, waiting for the pacing and too-fast muttering to begin. "What's the matter, Ro?"
Rowena looks harried, which is strange for her, since she usually is either excited or bored. "I met a man. And he confuses me." She starts pacing up and down the sitting room, a frown on her face. Helga maintains eye contact with the fireplace and waits patiently for her friend to continue; Rowena's circular, repetitive walks always make her feel dizzy.
"He looks quite ordinary and boring. Scuffs on his coat show that he's been travelling, but the marks are unlike anything I've ever seen, which is saying something. Oh, don't look at me like that; you know quite well I keep a database on these things. More than what Scotland Yard is doing, for sure. And the credentials he flashed at me were very strange. They were perfect, almost too perfect. Nothing can be that perfect; even the most advanced forger makes mistakes. And Lestrade just believes him, the naive cow, just lets him stroll into the crime scene with his claim of being a government-recommended investigator. I've checked out his firm; it exists, but there's no record of him there, and…"
Normally, Helga doesn't dare interrupt Rowena, but she's noticed that her friend's not being herself. Rowena is anxious, and worried, and not Rowena at all. "Wait, Ro. When did you meet him, and where?"
Rowena stops her pacing abruptly and sits down in her armchair, her hands neatly poised in her lap, catching her breath in a few quick seconds. "I met him ten minutes ago. Central London. Townhouse. Woman was murdered with two puncture holes in her neck - don't you dare mention vampires- and Scotland Yard have no clue what's going on, as usual. Rycroft has a personal interest in the case, and he's the one who saddled that investigator with me, so I have two mouths breathing down my neck to solve this case. Or three, if you count that man's partner."
"Sal, I'm bored." Godric is lying on his back on the floor of the TARDIS console room with his eyes shut. He can hear Salazar mucking about below with the wires, and raps on the glass for his attention. "Sal. Why can't we go somewhere fun?"
Salazar's voice is muffled and slightly impatient. "I've told you already, Godric. There is something going on here, and I'm sure it's alien, and the people don't have a clue what's going on."
Godric smirks and yells back, "Are you sure? Or is this about that woman? The one with the fantastic tits."
"Shouldn't talk about her like that. And no." Salazar appears in Godric's vision, or rather, his long lean legs do. Godric resists the sudden urge to grab his ankles and pull him down to the floor. Salazar's no fun when he's serious. Though Godric does love to watch him get unravelled…
"Godric?"
He notices Sal staring at him with a stern face. "Yes, Captain, oh Captain? Or Doctor, my Doctor, rather." Godric waggles his eyebrows, and pouts when Salazar deepens his frown.
"Go take a shower. Cold. We're going to meet the lady and her partner in half an hour, and I don't want you showing her your…" Sal waves his hands about awkwardly, gesturing towards Godric's crotch. Godric gives him a leer and thrusts his hips lewdly forward to make him blush. Salazar does have a nice blush. "…your bits. Go. Now. Please."
Godric guffaws and practically struts his way to the bathroom. "Oh, Sal, I do love it when you beg." He doesn't need to turn his head to know that Salazar's face is all red.
---
They meet at the morgue, two men and two women. Well, technically, one man, two women, and an alien Time Lord. The coroner tells them nothing of note, so Lestrade steers him off to the office to get an official report, uncomfortable with the icy tension between Rowena and Salazar.
Helga does a quick examination of the body. "No bruising around the puncture wounds. Only conclusion is death by exsanguination, obviously." She shrugs, and nods at Rowena, before leaving with Godric for a meeting with Rycroft.
"Not married. No children. Nothing much… Ah. Came into London by the last train last night, and walked through Charing Cross in the rain." Rowena continues to talk to herself as she rifles through the bag of clothes, occasionally exclaiming a new thought or theory.
Salazar is impressed by her, but doesn't show it. Instead, he bends down to examine the wounds on the victim's neck, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to check for signs of alien damage. He flicks the tool expertly and reads the signals, noticing Rowena's interest out of the corner of his eye. "Sonic screwdriver," he says, pre-empting the question. "Not a real screwdriver. I just call it that because it looks like one."
Rowena looks him up and down, leaning against the table. "What does it do? And while we're at it, who are you? And don't you dare say investigator, because you and I both know that that's complete bollocks."
Salazar hesitates. "I'm a doctor." It isn't a lie, not really. Most people know him as The Doctor, anyhow.
"Liar." Rowena inches forward, her eyes suspicious. Her hand slips under her coat, and Salazar notices a fist being formed around something resembling a firearm.
"Well, all right, no need to get violent." Salazar knows that she won't rest till she gets some truth out of him. "Can you keep a secret?"
"I'm very discreet, I promise." Rowena smiles, her eyes cold.
Their noses are almost touching now, despite the height difference. Salazar swallows, and breathes out. "I'm a Time Lord. I travel through time and space to help people."
"A Time- what sort of quack are you? Do you take me for a fool, Salazar?" she says, pressing against him. "Who are you?"
The meeting with Rycroft ends quickly enough. They don't find out anything useful, other than Rycroft really wants the case solved, and that the dead woman is his personal secretary. It doesn't take much convincing on Godric's part to get Helga into the nearest pub for a drink. Neither of them wants to go back to a potential intellectually-draining match between Rowena and Salazar.
"Really? You're not taking the piss?" Helga takes another sip of her lager. "A Time Lord?"
Godric grins and leans back in his chair. "Yep. He goes around everywhere and every time in the fucking world, saving people's arses from aliens and shit." He gulps down a mouthful of beer, and enjoys the way the cool liquid slips down his throat. Salazar doesn't have a drinks cabinet in his TARDIS, the bastard, and hasn't forgotten about Rome yet. "What's with your bird? She seems… intense."
Helga lets out a low chuckle. "Ro's a handful, but you get used to it. Or you try to. I've saved her life once, from a homicidal taxi driver, and she's saved my life from a maniac genius. No aliens though. Ro doesn't believe in those things."
"What about vampires? Sal thinks that there's an alien vampire on the streets of London, y'know."
"She will strangle him if he mentions that." Helga laughs, downing the rest of her lager and motioning for a beer. Godric decides that he really likes Helga. "She's wicked with her riding crop."
Godric pictures Rowena with a riding crop and smirks unashamedly. "Kinky."
He chokes on the beer when Helga winks back with flushed cheeks and says, "You have no idea."
---
Salazar tries not to look triumphant when Rowena steps into the TARDIS and gasps. It was tough trying to convince Rowena that no, he was not a pervert and that his time machine was indeed a time machine and not his prick, but he'd managed it. With the help of a text message from Helga and Godric.
"Okay." Rowena's face still has that stubborn look, and he ducks as she swings to turn around to face him, her riding crop still clenched in her hand. (Who knew that a riding crop could be scarier than a gun?) "Fine. Time Lord and time travel. Scientifically possible. And probable. Fine. But vampires?"
Salazar motions towards the console, and starts typing up commands. He notices Rowena eyeing the symbols on his keyboard, and says, "It's Gallifreyan. The language of my people."
"And who are your people?" Rowena's curiosity has an undercurrent of cynicism, but Salazar can't fault her for that. "Are they all Time Lords and Ladies?"
He smiles ruefully. "They were. I'm possibly the last one left."
Rowena doesn't say much until Salazar pulls up the images he was looking for.
"Here. These are some examples of vampires. Not all of them are the blood-sucking type, but they're mostly aristocrats, because they have all the time to get to the higher levels of society." Salazar frowns and turns to Rowena, who's busy scrolling through all the species of vampire that Salazar's encountered before. "You said that you found marble. When looking through her things."
Rowena nods absently, taking a while to notice Salazar's gaze. "Oh. Yes. Travertine marble. Limestone, deposited by hot springs. Used often as a building material, mostly in Italy."
"You found something else." Salazar moves closer to the detective, who's still calmly looking at the screen. "You pocketed something that was out of place, something that was mistaken for a button."
Rowena's eyes are positively stone. "How did you know?"
Salazar doesn't blink. He uses what Godric calls his shark smile, and says, "It's from another time."
"Are we interrupting anything?" Godric's smirking when he enters the TARDIS with a speechless Helga. "I hope not, otherwise someone might have to be punished."
Salazar's face flushes crimson, and he glares at Godric's obvious tipsy state. "Remember what we agreed on? No drinking?"
"Fuck you," says Godric, sidling up to Rowena, who immediately whips out her riding crop as a warning. His hands go up in surrender even as he leers at her. "Oooh, Ravenboo, chill. Helga said you were kinky."
Rowena flashes a frown at Helga, who's giggling as she touches the console. "Helga, you know you're not supposed to-"
"Oh hush, Ro. We had a bit of a drink, to relax. Honestly, you two have such sticks up your arses. Well, in Salazar's case, that's probably every night!" Helga nearly falls over laughing at Godric's expression, and the both of them cling on to each other as Rowena and Salazar share identical looks of annoyance.
Soon after they calm down and finish listening to the briefing by Salazar, Helga and Godric settle onto the sofa and doze off. Godric's snores accompany the TARDIS's soft whines as they hurtle through space and time.
Rowena polishes her glasses as Salazar reads a book on Vincent van Gogh. Her vision is rather blurred without her spectacles, but she still keenly observes the way Salazar absorbs the information from the words in his lap. The man is still a mystery to be figured out, and Rowena, for the first time, thinks that she would rather not strip away the layers of this enigma to understand his core.
"You think really loudly, you know." Helga's soft voice breathes into her ear suddenly. "Always waking me up with your endless thoughts and theories and things." She yawns and stretches slowly, careful not to dislodge Godric's head from her shoulder.
Rowena smiles and fits her glasses back onto her ears, blinking as she turns towards Helga. Her left hand twitches uncertainly, and is then covered by the warmth of Helga's right, the cool of Helga's ring on her knuckles. She suddenly feels safe and certain, even though they're in a time machine with an alien and his partner, going to ancient Rome to capture a rogue vampire.
Salazar's standing right in front of him when Godric wakes up. Helga and Rowena are busy researching Rome's history and customs at the console, chattering away as if they're in a coffee shop.
"Hello, love." He reaches out with his arms and grabs the front of Sal's coat, grinning upwards at his serious face. "Relax, won't you? I'm all sober now."
Salazar allows himself to be pulled down next to Godric, who takes advantage of this by throwing a leg across Sal's lap, quirking his eyebrow mischievously. The two of them stay that way for a while, until Godric is bored and shifts until his whole back is leaning on Salazar's right shoulder.
"Will you ever behave?" Sal whispers, surreptitiously planting a kiss onto Godric's unruly head of hair. Godric's eyes catches Sal's and they both smile. Godric loves the way Sal smiles, but keeps his hands to himself.
"I don't know," he sighs dramatically. "It's fun to misbehave. And get under your collar. And clothes. And skin." He much rather prefers this, making Salazar turn red using language alone.
---
It's afternoon when they finally come out of the TARDIS. Rowena and Helga take a few minutes to realise that they are in fact in ancient Rome, and that they aren't dreaming. Godric is sulking, because once again Salazar has refused to let him bring Bacon-Cleaver along.
"Remember the last time we came to Rome and you told me to leave it behind? We were locked in a cell," he keeps saying, hissing into Sal's ear. "I need my sword, Sal, it makes me feel safe."
Salazar just gives Godric one of his patented long-suffering looks, and yanks him along by his elbow. "We're not going to be in trouble this time because you are not going to drink and make googly eyes at men who can kill you in an instant."
This does nothing to pacify Godric, who continues to pout as they walk along the streets of Rome. The other two are oblivious to the tension between Godric and Salazar; Rowena's eyes are taking in the architecture and geography of the place, while Helga is focusing on the people and the food.
Salazar's sonic screwdriver suddenly beeps in his pocket, and he swivels around just before a scream erupts from the nearest alley. The four of them rush towards the sound, along with other Romans in the marketplace, and find a young woman's dead body lying on the ground, two tiny puncture wounds on her neck.
When they untangle themselves from the crowd, Rowena starts down the alley, muttering, "I saw a red cloak going down here."
The other three run to keep up with Rowena's brisk pace, and they soon catch another glimpse of red cloth as it disappears into a familiar villa.
"Cowards."
Salazar knows the voice, and he turns around, tapping Godric on the shoulder as he comes face to face with Leery Roman and friends. The three are backed up by additional Roman soldiers, blocking the way out of the villa's compound.
"Ah, my lovely boys are back," another voice says, this time from the villa itself. It's more cultured and less gruff that Leery Roman's, and comes from a regal-looking man with glittering eyes. "And with a couple of pets as well."