Crack Crossover fic Torchwood/Star Trek TOS
Title: Hot Child In The City
Fandoms: Torchwood/Star Trek TOS (Assignment: Earth)
Characters: John Hart/Gary Seven/Roberta Lincoln/Isis
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 1215
Notes: Suggestion from louiseroho that John Hart should run into Gary Seven from Assignment: Earth. I'm not sure this is what she had in mind, but here it is. Pretty much pure crack.
He was used to riots, but they usually occurred after he’d been around a few days. This one was already in progress and he’d only just arrived. Lucky break, actually. No one notices a garishly dressed man appearing out of nowhere when they’re busy throwing rocks and trying not to get clobbered by angry law enforcement.
Now that he’d gotten to New York and figured out that it definitely was 1968, he could set about the mission itself. There were co-ordinates pre-programmed to his wrist-strap and an emissary from Aegis who had information that the Agency wanted. He was authorised to negotiate, and if that didn’t work he could take matters into his own hands. Typically, the Agency didn’t care how he got it, and would prefer not to know the details. Success was all that mattered.
The mob was heading one way, so he proceeded in the other, letting the GPS guide him as he enjoyed the view. Chaos and mini-skirts. His kind of year.
The sign said East 86th street and the wrist-strap had that tingle to tell him he was there. He stood in front of the building wondering if he should be polite and ring the bell or start the process with an unannounced entrance. The data-base had been woefully inadequate when it came to Aegean social mores.
Before he could make that decision, he saw a cat, which seemed to have come from nowhere in particular and was now rubbing up against his left leg, purring, as was to be expected.
“Hello pretty kitty. “ he crooned starting to kneel down, only to hear the whizzing sound just behind his ear, followed by the dull thunk as his head hit the ground.
He was always getting distracted by pussy.
*****
And that must be some pussy, he thought, waking up an indeterminate amount of time later, staring at a brunette in a gown that could barely said to be there at all, and a smile that said the rest of it could be removed very easily, if he gave her what she wanted. He was ready to ask what and how much, when she was gone and the cat was back. The briefing had mentioned the prevalence of drugs, but nothing that would cause this kind of hallucination. Whatever it was, he had to get hold of some. He could make a killing peddling that stuff.
First he had to get out of this…situation. He didn’t appear to be bound, which was good, if slightly disappointing, but he didn’t feel like his muscles would react if he tried to make a move to leave.
“Isis seems to like you.”
Male voice. Male man? No, not a mailman, you moron. OK, whatever this stuff was, he wanted it out of his system, now.
The man now stood directly in front of him, the black cat in his arms, purring exactly the way she had when she was at his feet. Slut.
“Gary, who is this guy? Why is he dressed like that?”
As if her geometric, psychedelic mini-dress would pass muster in his time. Well, actually it would, because her legs were tremendous, and her face wasn’t bad either. Cute, was the word they used here. The man appeared to a typical human. Handsome, enough. Reminded him of a movie star from this time period. Stephen King, or something like that.
“He’s going to explain that in just about five more seconds,” Gary replied, looking at his wristwatch.
Maybe it was five seconds, maybe less.
“I’m John Marcus Finchley. I’m a third echelon commander with the Time Agency, and I’m here to obtain the information regarding the destruction of this planet in the next century. I’m authorised to negotiate.”
He stopped, not because he wanted to but because Gary was raising a pen in his face. No sense there either, but none of this made much.
“What are you prepared to offer?”
The pen was lowered and he realised he could speak, but at the moment wasn’t particularly inclined. Instead he looked at Gary, and his assistant, and the cat, in whose eyes he could still see the woman, and if he could have her, it didn’t matter much which form she took. There were particulars to work out, but he’d dealt with all sorts of not particularly human life forms.
Despite his current position, this was still a negotiation. He lowered his eyes to indicate submission and raised them with an extra arch of his eyebrow.
Gary shook his head disapprovingly, but his face showed amusement.Meanwhile the blonde had clearly gone from mild confusion to utter bewilderment.
“How can there be a time agency? Do they fix clocks or something?”
“Roberta,” Gary began. Obviously he had to explain this kind of thing a lot.
“Oh, he told you about space travel, but not Time Travel? That’s the best way to see the universe.”
Roberta got adorably huffy.
“I met a guy with pointed ears once.”
“Yeah, well I’ve screwed a guy with a pointed…”
“All right, that’s enough.”
New note for the briefing chip. Aegeans were stuffy bastards.
“Come on, it’s a good deal for all of you. I get the information to someone who can do some good with it and you get…me.”
It looked like Gary was about to raise the pen again, which John had decided was a bad idea in this situation, although who knew what it could do in a more intimate one, when Roberta blurted out, “For how long?”
“What?” he said, at nearly the same time Gary did. Even Isis looked surprised, if it were possible for a cat to do that.
“Well,” she continued, “if this information is really important, we shouldn’t give it up for just a few minutes with you."
Clearly, this girl had been badly neglected in all the important ways.
“Sweetheart! That’s the great thing about Time Agents. I can give you hours, days, months, all the time you need.”
Roberta gave Gary a look normally associated with small children in candy stores.
“Well, it’s not like I can leave you alone with him,” he said, and John suspected the admission wasn’t as grudging as he was trying to make it sound.
“Absolutely not. Scurrilous character like me. You know what Time Agents are capable of.”
If he didn’t, Isis certainly did. After some kind of feline communication, she made a leap onto John’s lap and by the time she’d gotten there, she had taken her human form again, only to have Roberta come over and push her out of the way, quite forcefully from the looks of it. Maybe there was more than one cat in the room.
“We have a deal then?” he said, to Gary, who nodded approval, just as Isis came back into his embrace, this time maintaining her human form. Perhaps this Aegean wasn’t quite so stuffy after all.
John pulled Roberta closer, deciding her part of the payment would start here and now, in this chair with Gary and Isis watching. Look and learn, Miss Kitty, he thought as he kissed her, and found out just how famished for this kind of attention she was.
This mission could definitely take awhile, and he was going to enjoy every minute, hour, day and month of it.
Fandoms: Torchwood/Star Trek TOS (Assignment: Earth)
Characters: John Hart/Gary Seven/Roberta Lincoln/Isis
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 1215
Notes: Suggestion from louiseroho that John Hart should run into Gary Seven from Assignment: Earth. I'm not sure this is what she had in mind, but here it is. Pretty much pure crack.
He was used to riots, but they usually occurred after he’d been around a few days. This one was already in progress and he’d only just arrived. Lucky break, actually. No one notices a garishly dressed man appearing out of nowhere when they’re busy throwing rocks and trying not to get clobbered by angry law enforcement.
Now that he’d gotten to New York and figured out that it definitely was 1968, he could set about the mission itself. There were co-ordinates pre-programmed to his wrist-strap and an emissary from Aegis who had information that the Agency wanted. He was authorised to negotiate, and if that didn’t work he could take matters into his own hands. Typically, the Agency didn’t care how he got it, and would prefer not to know the details. Success was all that mattered.
The mob was heading one way, so he proceeded in the other, letting the GPS guide him as he enjoyed the view. Chaos and mini-skirts. His kind of year.
The sign said East 86th street and the wrist-strap had that tingle to tell him he was there. He stood in front of the building wondering if he should be polite and ring the bell or start the process with an unannounced entrance. The data-base had been woefully inadequate when it came to Aegean social mores.
Before he could make that decision, he saw a cat, which seemed to have come from nowhere in particular and was now rubbing up against his left leg, purring, as was to be expected.
“Hello pretty kitty. “ he crooned starting to kneel down, only to hear the whizzing sound just behind his ear, followed by the dull thunk as his head hit the ground.
He was always getting distracted by pussy.
*****
And that must be some pussy, he thought, waking up an indeterminate amount of time later, staring at a brunette in a gown that could barely said to be there at all, and a smile that said the rest of it could be removed very easily, if he gave her what she wanted. He was ready to ask what and how much, when she was gone and the cat was back. The briefing had mentioned the prevalence of drugs, but nothing that would cause this kind of hallucination. Whatever it was, he had to get hold of some. He could make a killing peddling that stuff.
First he had to get out of this…situation. He didn’t appear to be bound, which was good, if slightly disappointing, but he didn’t feel like his muscles would react if he tried to make a move to leave.
“Isis seems to like you.”
Male voice. Male man? No, not a mailman, you moron. OK, whatever this stuff was, he wanted it out of his system, now.
The man now stood directly in front of him, the black cat in his arms, purring exactly the way she had when she was at his feet. Slut.
“Gary, who is this guy? Why is he dressed like that?”
As if her geometric, psychedelic mini-dress would pass muster in his time. Well, actually it would, because her legs were tremendous, and her face wasn’t bad either. Cute, was the word they used here. The man appeared to a typical human. Handsome, enough. Reminded him of a movie star from this time period. Stephen King, or something like that.
“He’s going to explain that in just about five more seconds,” Gary replied, looking at his wristwatch.
Maybe it was five seconds, maybe less.
“I’m John Marcus Finchley. I’m a third echelon commander with the Time Agency, and I’m here to obtain the information regarding the destruction of this planet in the next century. I’m authorised to negotiate.”
He stopped, not because he wanted to but because Gary was raising a pen in his face. No sense there either, but none of this made much.
“What are you prepared to offer?”
The pen was lowered and he realised he could speak, but at the moment wasn’t particularly inclined. Instead he looked at Gary, and his assistant, and the cat, in whose eyes he could still see the woman, and if he could have her, it didn’t matter much which form she took. There were particulars to work out, but he’d dealt with all sorts of not particularly human life forms.
Despite his current position, this was still a negotiation. He lowered his eyes to indicate submission and raised them with an extra arch of his eyebrow.
Gary shook his head disapprovingly, but his face showed amusement.Meanwhile the blonde had clearly gone from mild confusion to utter bewilderment.
“How can there be a time agency? Do they fix clocks or something?”
“Roberta,” Gary began. Obviously he had to explain this kind of thing a lot.
“Oh, he told you about space travel, but not Time Travel? That’s the best way to see the universe.”
Roberta got adorably huffy.
“I met a guy with pointed ears once.”
“Yeah, well I’ve screwed a guy with a pointed…”
“All right, that’s enough.”
New note for the briefing chip. Aegeans were stuffy bastards.
“Come on, it’s a good deal for all of you. I get the information to someone who can do some good with it and you get…me.”
It looked like Gary was about to raise the pen again, which John had decided was a bad idea in this situation, although who knew what it could do in a more intimate one, when Roberta blurted out, “For how long?”
“What?” he said, at nearly the same time Gary did. Even Isis looked surprised, if it were possible for a cat to do that.
“Well,” she continued, “if this information is really important, we shouldn’t give it up for just a few minutes with you."
Clearly, this girl had been badly neglected in all the important ways.
“Sweetheart! That’s the great thing about Time Agents. I can give you hours, days, months, all the time you need.”
Roberta gave Gary a look normally associated with small children in candy stores.
“Well, it’s not like I can leave you alone with him,” he said, and John suspected the admission wasn’t as grudging as he was trying to make it sound.
“Absolutely not. Scurrilous character like me. You know what Time Agents are capable of.”
If he didn’t, Isis certainly did. After some kind of feline communication, she made a leap onto John’s lap and by the time she’d gotten there, she had taken her human form again, only to have Roberta come over and push her out of the way, quite forcefully from the looks of it. Maybe there was more than one cat in the room.
“We have a deal then?” he said, to Gary, who nodded approval, just as Isis came back into his embrace, this time maintaining her human form. Perhaps this Aegean wasn’t quite so stuffy after all.
John pulled Roberta closer, deciding her part of the payment would start here and now, in this chair with Gary and Isis watching. Look and learn, Miss Kitty, he thought as he kissed her, and found out just how famished for this kind of attention she was.
This mission could definitely take awhile, and he was going to enjoy every minute, hour, day and month of it.