itle: Legends (21/?)
Author: Merucha
Characters: Tim McGee, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, plus the usual Torchwood and NCIS suspects
Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: After the events of Bloodbath, Tim McGee accepts a offer from a total stranger
Author's Note: A few weeks ago I was watching some NCIS episodes and came across Bloodbath. I hated both Abby and Gibbs in it. I hated the humiliation of making Tim kneel all day for something that was someone else's fault. I fumed for days (I am a bit obsessive about things from time to time). Then, a few days ago, this popped up. As usual, AU like nobody's business.
Author's Note: I don't even know how to apologize for the delay. I am at the exit end of a pain-control experiment that wasn't really working. I am slowly regaining some control over my days. Blessed be.
Part one here; Part two here; Part three here; Part four is here; Part five is here; Part six is here; Part seven is here; Part eight is here; Part nine is here; Part ten is here; Part eleven is here; Part twelve is here; Part thirteen is here:Part fourteen is here;Part fifteen is here; Part sixteen is here; Part seventeen is here; Part eighteen is here; Part nineteen is here; Part twenty is here; Part twenty-first is here
The three-story colonial sat in the middle of what looked like several acres of lawn in one of D.C.'s ritziest neighborhoods. The drive from the wrought iron gates to its front steps meandered among flower beds meticulously designed to give the impression of a wild meadow. Two mature oaks sheltered seating arrangements created from mismatched antique wire-work furniture. The place was too dignified to boast of its ancestry, but it was obvious to the people in the car.
“I didn't realize SecNav paid so well,” Tony commented to nobody in particular. “Maybe I should consider a career change.”
Vance snorted. “It's not his money. He married into New England aristocracy. ”
“I knew there was a catch. Oh look. A courtyard. With a fountain. How upper crusty.”
As Tony slid the SUV into an unoccupied parking space, one of the massive oak doors opened and Jarvis stepped out. Tony could see that under the usual don't fuck with me swagger the SecNav was tighter than a snare drum. Jarvis's left hand twitched at odd intervals, and he could barely stop himself from grabbing at it. Tony gave a low whistle.
Tish tapped his knee. “That's one panicked man.”
“He’ll try to bluff,” he kept his voice as low as she did. “He's that type.”
They watched as Jarvis pounced on Vance almost before the Director had both feet on the gravel.
“Vance! What the hell is going on? I get a phone call...”
Jack interrupted him. “Let's go inside.”
Jarvis whipped around. “And who the hell are you to give me orders?”
The easy smile was suddenly gone. “I'm the guy who could keep you from a very public smash, mister Secretary.”
Tony winced at the sheer amount of contempt the Captain had managed to pack into the last two words. It was obvious Jarvis had caught it too. He lurched towards Jack, hands clenched, then suddenly pivoted and went back into the house. They trooped in behind him, through a narrow, high-ceilinged foyer all marble and oak, and into a large office. Tony was a little surprised to see that it actually looked like a working office, with files and books piled up on the antique desk.
Jarvis made a beeline for the big chair behind the desk and sat down, waving Jack and Vance to the leather armchairs facing it. Tish took a position to one side of the door; Tony automatically took the other, keeping his mouth shut but his eyes and ears open. “Let’s see if we can get this ridiculous situation straightened out.” Jarvis rested both hands on the blotter. “All I know is that the President called me this morning and asked me to stay home...”
“Ordered you,” Vance cut him off. “The only reason you don't have Marines posted at your door is that we didn't want to tip off your buddy Liam.”
The left hand twitched again. “I don't know anyone called Liam.”
“The raid on Gibbs' home was a complete failure.” Vance told him. “Two in the morgue and three in the holding cells. The survivors aren't happy. It was supposed to be an easy job.”
“If there was an attack on a member of NCIS, I should have been informed!”
Jack chuckled. “Have you noticed that you haven't had a single caller except for the president? Not even your secretary?” He settled more comfortably in the armchair, and it occurred to Tony that even though they were in Jarvis's office, it was the Captain who owned the space. “You were very unwise to let Liam join the delegation to the Stout. Michael Sexton's partner recognized him. Once we got our hands on that information, you were done. Let's get to the important part, Jarvis. Why?”
“I don't understand.”
“You're a bureaucratic pain in the arse and as power hungry as all the other so-called players in this town. But you had limits, things you wouldn't do. What changed?”
Jarvis started to say something then suddenly seemed to collapse. “Shit.” He leaned back and pressed his hands over his eyes. “It's my son, Ashton. He's been diagnosed with Friedreich's ataxia. He's only twelve, dammit.”
“How severe is it?” asked Jack.
“He'll be in a wheelchair in a few months.”
“Liam told you he could help. And you believed him.”
“He didn't tell me anything. He showed me the research! The Brits were working on correcting spinal column damage, and it was working. Liam said they stopped because the PM after Saxon pulled the funding. Stupid bastards.”
Jack stared at him for what seemed a very long time, then he pushed back his sleeve to show his wrist strap. “Liam was very selective with his facts. Let me show you what the spinal cord research was about.”
He pressed a few buttons. An incredibly sharp holographic image floated above the desk. From his spot by the door Tony could see every detail. It looked to be a lab. In the foreground was a... man? No, the top half of a man fitted into what looked like some sort of shell on wheels. Another shell, this one open, sat next to him. Behind them tall, blond men and women in white uniforms and wearing thick collars were lifting something out of a vat. As they brought it to the open shell, Tony caught a good look at it and had to fight his breakfast back down to his stomach. He heard Tish's low moan and Vance's quickly-suppressed curse, but he couldn't take his eyes off the thing.
It was a Z horror movie's idea of a mad scientist's creation. A large brain sat on top of a spinal cord that was four times its natural size and enough rib structure to allow organs to be attached. Tony could see heart and kidneys but no lungs or stomach. There was no brain case but there were eye and ear structures. As it was slid into the shell, Tony could see its eyes blinking.
“That,” Jack said, “is the earliest known recording of the creation of a Dalek. They strengthened the spinal column because it served as protection and support for the nerve roots which are enlarged and reprogrammed to assist in the operation of the shell. Watch. Nerves are attached into the sensor pads, ear structures integrated into the audio circuits, optic nerves into the visual. Now the main stimuli connections.” Tony winced as several tubes were pressed into the brain matter. “Final touches. Heart and kidneys attached.”
They watched as the shell was closed, then Jack pressed another button and the image disappeared. “Is that what you want for your son, Mr. Secretary?”
“But the research could be adapted!”
“Daleks are humanoid, but not human. Every piece of that equipment, every surgical technique, even the vat nutrients would kill your son. To retrofit that research for human use you would have to start by creating three new branches of medicine and two of engineering from scratch.”
Jarvis shook his head as if to deny what he was hearing but Tony could see the doubt in his eyes. Vance leaned forward. “Where is he, Clayton?”
Jarvis hesitated for a moment. “The abandoned warehouses on Tingey.”
“Goddammit, Jarvis!” Vance jumped out of his chair as if propelled by rocket fuel. “They’re right next to the Yard!”
He pulled out his cell phone, pressed one button, and started firing off orders to whoever was at the other end. Tony knew the Yard cops, as good as they were, had no chance against the Toclafane sphere. He took out his own cell phone, pressed the outgoing call button.
“Mimi? I know you're listening. I need to talk to Tim.”
Author: Merucha
Characters: Tim McGee, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, plus the usual Torchwood and NCIS suspects
Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: After the events of Bloodbath, Tim McGee accepts a offer from a total stranger
Author's Note: A few weeks ago I was watching some NCIS episodes and came across Bloodbath. I hated both Abby and Gibbs in it. I hated the humiliation of making Tim kneel all day for something that was someone else's fault. I fumed for days (I am a bit obsessive about things from time to time). Then, a few days ago, this popped up. As usual, AU like nobody's business.
Author's Note: I don't even know how to apologize for the delay. I am at the exit end of a pain-control experiment that wasn't really working. I am slowly regaining some control over my days. Blessed be.
Part one here; Part two here; Part three here; Part four is here; Part five is here; Part six is here; Part seven is here; Part eight is here; Part nine is here; Part ten is here; Part eleven is here; Part twelve is here; Part thirteen is here:Part fourteen is here;Part fifteen is here; Part sixteen is here; Part seventeen is here; Part eighteen is here; Part nineteen is here; Part twenty is here; Part twenty-first is here
The three-story colonial sat in the middle of what looked like several acres of lawn in one of D.C.'s ritziest neighborhoods. The drive from the wrought iron gates to its front steps meandered among flower beds meticulously designed to give the impression of a wild meadow. Two mature oaks sheltered seating arrangements created from mismatched antique wire-work furniture. The place was too dignified to boast of its ancestry, but it was obvious to the people in the car.
“I didn't realize SecNav paid so well,” Tony commented to nobody in particular. “Maybe I should consider a career change.”
Vance snorted. “It's not his money. He married into New England aristocracy. ”
“I knew there was a catch. Oh look. A courtyard. With a fountain. How upper crusty.”
As Tony slid the SUV into an unoccupied parking space, one of the massive oak doors opened and Jarvis stepped out. Tony could see that under the usual don't fuck with me swagger the SecNav was tighter than a snare drum. Jarvis's left hand twitched at odd intervals, and he could barely stop himself from grabbing at it. Tony gave a low whistle.
Tish tapped his knee. “That's one panicked man.”
“He’ll try to bluff,” he kept his voice as low as she did. “He's that type.”
They watched as Jarvis pounced on Vance almost before the Director had both feet on the gravel.
“Vance! What the hell is going on? I get a phone call...”
Jack interrupted him. “Let's go inside.”
Jarvis whipped around. “And who the hell are you to give me orders?”
The easy smile was suddenly gone. “I'm the guy who could keep you from a very public smash, mister Secretary.”
Tony winced at the sheer amount of contempt the Captain had managed to pack into the last two words. It was obvious Jarvis had caught it too. He lurched towards Jack, hands clenched, then suddenly pivoted and went back into the house. They trooped in behind him, through a narrow, high-ceilinged foyer all marble and oak, and into a large office. Tony was a little surprised to see that it actually looked like a working office, with files and books piled up on the antique desk.
Jarvis made a beeline for the big chair behind the desk and sat down, waving Jack and Vance to the leather armchairs facing it. Tish took a position to one side of the door; Tony automatically took the other, keeping his mouth shut but his eyes and ears open. “Let’s see if we can get this ridiculous situation straightened out.” Jarvis rested both hands on the blotter. “All I know is that the President called me this morning and asked me to stay home...”
“Ordered you,” Vance cut him off. “The only reason you don't have Marines posted at your door is that we didn't want to tip off your buddy Liam.”
The left hand twitched again. “I don't know anyone called Liam.”
“The raid on Gibbs' home was a complete failure.” Vance told him. “Two in the morgue and three in the holding cells. The survivors aren't happy. It was supposed to be an easy job.”
“If there was an attack on a member of NCIS, I should have been informed!”
Jack chuckled. “Have you noticed that you haven't had a single caller except for the president? Not even your secretary?” He settled more comfortably in the armchair, and it occurred to Tony that even though they were in Jarvis's office, it was the Captain who owned the space. “You were very unwise to let Liam join the delegation to the Stout. Michael Sexton's partner recognized him. Once we got our hands on that information, you were done. Let's get to the important part, Jarvis. Why?”
“I don't understand.”
“You're a bureaucratic pain in the arse and as power hungry as all the other so-called players in this town. But you had limits, things you wouldn't do. What changed?”
Jarvis started to say something then suddenly seemed to collapse. “Shit.” He leaned back and pressed his hands over his eyes. “It's my son, Ashton. He's been diagnosed with Friedreich's ataxia. He's only twelve, dammit.”
“How severe is it?” asked Jack.
“He'll be in a wheelchair in a few months.”
“Liam told you he could help. And you believed him.”
“He didn't tell me anything. He showed me the research! The Brits were working on correcting spinal column damage, and it was working. Liam said they stopped because the PM after Saxon pulled the funding. Stupid bastards.”
Jack stared at him for what seemed a very long time, then he pushed back his sleeve to show his wrist strap. “Liam was very selective with his facts. Let me show you what the spinal cord research was about.”
He pressed a few buttons. An incredibly sharp holographic image floated above the desk. From his spot by the door Tony could see every detail. It looked to be a lab. In the foreground was a... man? No, the top half of a man fitted into what looked like some sort of shell on wheels. Another shell, this one open, sat next to him. Behind them tall, blond men and women in white uniforms and wearing thick collars were lifting something out of a vat. As they brought it to the open shell, Tony caught a good look at it and had to fight his breakfast back down to his stomach. He heard Tish's low moan and Vance's quickly-suppressed curse, but he couldn't take his eyes off the thing.
It was a Z horror movie's idea of a mad scientist's creation. A large brain sat on top of a spinal cord that was four times its natural size and enough rib structure to allow organs to be attached. Tony could see heart and kidneys but no lungs or stomach. There was no brain case but there were eye and ear structures. As it was slid into the shell, Tony could see its eyes blinking.
“That,” Jack said, “is the earliest known recording of the creation of a Dalek. They strengthened the spinal column because it served as protection and support for the nerve roots which are enlarged and reprogrammed to assist in the operation of the shell. Watch. Nerves are attached into the sensor pads, ear structures integrated into the audio circuits, optic nerves into the visual. Now the main stimuli connections.” Tony winced as several tubes were pressed into the brain matter. “Final touches. Heart and kidneys attached.”
They watched as the shell was closed, then Jack pressed another button and the image disappeared. “Is that what you want for your son, Mr. Secretary?”
“But the research could be adapted!”
“Daleks are humanoid, but not human. Every piece of that equipment, every surgical technique, even the vat nutrients would kill your son. To retrofit that research for human use you would have to start by creating three new branches of medicine and two of engineering from scratch.”
Jarvis shook his head as if to deny what he was hearing but Tony could see the doubt in his eyes. Vance leaned forward. “Where is he, Clayton?”
Jarvis hesitated for a moment. “The abandoned warehouses on Tingey.”
“Goddammit, Jarvis!” Vance jumped out of his chair as if propelled by rocket fuel. “They’re right next to the Yard!”
He pulled out his cell phone, pressed one button, and started firing off orders to whoever was at the other end. Tony knew the Yard cops, as good as they were, had no chance against the Toclafane sphere. He took out his own cell phone, pressed the outgoing call button.
“Mimi? I know you're listening. I need to talk to Tim.”
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