5/6: Science and Dead Things and Probies, oh my!
Title: Science and Dead Things and Probies, oh my!
Rating: PG-13 (swearing)
Summary: NCIS/Torchwood crossover, It's too early to expand the team
Length: 1333 words
Disclaimer: Stuff does not belong to me
Abby felt like her space had been invaded. It had been nice to get new state of the art equipment and having stuff that she didn’t even know what it did yet gave her little chills of excitment. But having Suzanne Costello roaming around her lab like she owned the place was all kinds of wrong.
“So, Suzanne, how’s Wales this time of year? How are the aliens?” Abby asked, wondering if it was all right to broach the subject like that and then deciding that she didn’t really care what the etiquette regarding such topics was.
Suzanne fixed her with a rather cold stare. “Suzie will be fine. And aliens are not something to laugh at. Working for Torchwood is about serving more than just a country, it is about serving the world and all of the worlds that we encounter inhabitants from.” She glanced around the room. “Is this your only lab?”
Abby bristled, her tools were her babies and this lab was her cave and like mother bear, she was ready to jump into a fight to protect them. "This is my lab. There's an evidence garage for vehicles and when I get huge amounts of stuff to process."
Suzie shook her head and continued her self-directed tour of the lab. "Too public, this will have to do." She paused for a moment to look at Bert and stopped again in front of the computer, she placed her fingers on the keyboard and then moved finished her tour by coming to stand in front of Abby, as if she owned the place and Abby was the intruder. "I suppose this will do. Once my things arrive, we can begin to work."
Abby crossed her arms and glanced around the lab, it hadn't exactly been spacious to begin with and with all the new Torchwood equipment it was downright cramped, and now Suzie wanted to but her own things in too?
"Are you sure you wouldn't be better off in the new office? Gibbs said that you're a field agent." Abby knew that before she was finished speaking she had made a mistake.
Suzie got really close to her and her voice was almost a snarl, "Listen goth girl, I have been doing this since before you knew what the periodic table was. I was the sole agent with Jack for years. We don't have the luxury of budgets and personnel and a nice pretty organized system like you do. I know your little brain is suffering from the death metal you keep listening too, but try to think, Torchwood is top secret and we don't tell just anyone about the aliens, even for an extra buck or a night off."
She backed off and out of the room, leaving Abby to fume and wonder how on Earth, or some alien world she was going to survive this woman. Then she remembered what Suzie had said, they didn't tell just anyone about aliens, it would have been simple to have her transferred and Suzie to take her place. Torchwood wanted her skills, they wanted her. She grinned to herself, turned the music back on with a click of her remote and set about making a place for Suzie to set up her computer and whatever other equipment she needed, maybe this would work out after all.
--
Owen Harper hated America. He had started hating it seventeen hours ago when Jack had picked him up in the Torchwood van and driven him to the airport along with the rest of the motley crew of Torchwood employees. His hatred towards the country had intensified over the long and cramped flight and now, when he should still be sleeping and getting up in several hours to have Ianto's coffee, he was walking down to the basement of some American government building that had piss poor coffee and rules against wearing jeans, not that the team here seemed to follow them.
The morgue was bigger than his autopsy bay, much bigger. There were drawers and proper tools and more than one table to lay out whatever aliens he had to do an autopsy on that day. He hated this country and now he was jealous of the doctor he was going to have to work with.
"Aw, you must be Doctor Harper, pleasure to meet you." An older man, grey hair and blue scrubs, emerged from behind one of the doors, it led into a boring office behind him. And the man wasn't American, if his voice was telling the truth, he was Scottish. "I'm Doctor Mallard, call me Ducky, and welcome to Washington."
Owen shook his hand but didn't return his smile. "So then, Ducky, what type of containment protocols do you have?"
Slowly, as the morning wore on, the old man's stories and relaxed demeanor began to really grate on his nerves. He wasn't here to have a little tea party, or chat about corpses, he was here to get this man up to speed and then he was going home, and the sooner, the better.
--
"So you are the probie?" Ziva asked the woman leaning on DiNozzo's desk. She looked different from the rest of her team and different from the NCIS team. She lacked the hardened look of a Agent that sadly seemed to be universal for the suffering and death they had seen, regardless of whether their previous trauma had been human or alien related.
"Sorry, what?" The woman said, brushing her hair out of her face. Another sign, a professional would never have such an inconvenient hair style. Ziva smoothed a hand over her hair again, it was still all in place, the braid tight against her scalp.
Ziva offered her a cup of the break room coffee. "At NCIS the most junior member of the team is the probie, like an agent in training."
"Oh, I am that, I guess. I was a police constable before I joined up with Torchwood." She explained, "It was all a bit of shock, finding out that aliens were real you know." She laughed a little.
"Do you like this better?" Ziva asked, "I did other work before coming to NCIS and now I am moving onto Torchwood. Did you prefer being a police constable?"
"Oh no." Gwen shook her head. "I actually feel like I'm making a difference now. Saving people, saving the world, you know. It isn't all parking tickets and domestic disturbances. What did you say you did before this?"
"I didn't." Ziva looked over this Torchwood probie, she wouldn't have lasted in a second in Mossad. "I was a Mossad agent, I think that joining Torchwood will be like going home."
Gwen swallowed nervously and Ziva smiled at her, like a predator staring down a spindly legged fawn.
Rating: PG-13 (swearing)
Summary: NCIS/Torchwood crossover, It's too early to expand the team
Length: 1333 words
Disclaimer: Stuff does not belong to me
Abby felt like her space had been invaded. It had been nice to get new state of the art equipment and having stuff that she didn’t even know what it did yet gave her little chills of excitment. But having Suzanne Costello roaming around her lab like she owned the place was all kinds of wrong.
“So, Suzanne, how’s Wales this time of year? How are the aliens?” Abby asked, wondering if it was all right to broach the subject like that and then deciding that she didn’t really care what the etiquette regarding such topics was.
Suzanne fixed her with a rather cold stare. “Suzie will be fine. And aliens are not something to laugh at. Working for Torchwood is about serving more than just a country, it is about serving the world and all of the worlds that we encounter inhabitants from.” She glanced around the room. “Is this your only lab?”
Abby bristled, her tools were her babies and this lab was her cave and like mother bear, she was ready to jump into a fight to protect them. "This is my lab. There's an evidence garage for vehicles and when I get huge amounts of stuff to process."
Suzie shook her head and continued her self-directed tour of the lab. "Too public, this will have to do." She paused for a moment to look at Bert and stopped again in front of the computer, she placed her fingers on the keyboard and then moved finished her tour by coming to stand in front of Abby, as if she owned the place and Abby was the intruder. "I suppose this will do. Once my things arrive, we can begin to work."
Abby crossed her arms and glanced around the lab, it hadn't exactly been spacious to begin with and with all the new Torchwood equipment it was downright cramped, and now Suzie wanted to but her own things in too?
"Are you sure you wouldn't be better off in the new office? Gibbs said that you're a field agent." Abby knew that before she was finished speaking she had made a mistake.
Suzie got really close to her and her voice was almost a snarl, "Listen goth girl, I have been doing this since before you knew what the periodic table was. I was the sole agent with Jack for years. We don't have the luxury of budgets and personnel and a nice pretty organized system like you do. I know your little brain is suffering from the death metal you keep listening too, but try to think, Torchwood is top secret and we don't tell just anyone about the aliens, even for an extra buck or a night off."
She backed off and out of the room, leaving Abby to fume and wonder how on Earth, or some alien world she was going to survive this woman. Then she remembered what Suzie had said, they didn't tell just anyone about aliens, it would have been simple to have her transferred and Suzie to take her place. Torchwood wanted her skills, they wanted her. She grinned to herself, turned the music back on with a click of her remote and set about making a place for Suzie to set up her computer and whatever other equipment she needed, maybe this would work out after all.
--
Owen Harper hated America. He had started hating it seventeen hours ago when Jack had picked him up in the Torchwood van and driven him to the airport along with the rest of the motley crew of Torchwood employees. His hatred towards the country had intensified over the long and cramped flight and now, when he should still be sleeping and getting up in several hours to have Ianto's coffee, he was walking down to the basement of some American government building that had piss poor coffee and rules against wearing jeans, not that the team here seemed to follow them.
The morgue was bigger than his autopsy bay, much bigger. There were drawers and proper tools and more than one table to lay out whatever aliens he had to do an autopsy on that day. He hated this country and now he was jealous of the doctor he was going to have to work with.
"Aw, you must be Doctor Harper, pleasure to meet you." An older man, grey hair and blue scrubs, emerged from behind one of the doors, it led into a boring office behind him. And the man wasn't American, if his voice was telling the truth, he was Scottish. "I'm Doctor Mallard, call me Ducky, and welcome to Washington."
Owen shook his hand but didn't return his smile. "So then, Ducky, what type of containment protocols do you have?"
Slowly, as the morning wore on, the old man's stories and relaxed demeanor began to really grate on his nerves. He wasn't here to have a little tea party, or chat about corpses, he was here to get this man up to speed and then he was going home, and the sooner, the better.
--
"So you are the probie?" Ziva asked the woman leaning on DiNozzo's desk. She looked different from the rest of her team and different from the NCIS team. She lacked the hardened look of a Agent that sadly seemed to be universal for the suffering and death they had seen, regardless of whether their previous trauma had been human or alien related.
"Sorry, what?" The woman said, brushing her hair out of her face. Another sign, a professional would never have such an inconvenient hair style. Ziva smoothed a hand over her hair again, it was still all in place, the braid tight against her scalp.
Ziva offered her a cup of the break room coffee. "At NCIS the most junior member of the team is the probie, like an agent in training."
"Oh, I am that, I guess. I was a police constable before I joined up with Torchwood." She explained, "It was all a bit of shock, finding out that aliens were real you know." She laughed a little.
"Do you like this better?" Ziva asked, "I did other work before coming to NCIS and now I am moving onto Torchwood. Did you prefer being a police constable?"
"Oh no." Gwen shook her head. "I actually feel like I'm making a difference now. Saving people, saving the world, you know. It isn't all parking tickets and domestic disturbances. What did you say you did before this?"
"I didn't." Ziva looked over this Torchwood probie, she wouldn't have lasted in a second in Mossad. "I was a Mossad agent, I think that joining Torchwood will be like going home."
Gwen swallowed nervously and Ziva smiled at her, like a predator staring down a spindly legged fawn.