Title: Adaptation, a Torchwood/NCIS Crossover (1/?)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Tim McGee, LJ Gibbs, Ducky Mallard, others

Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack and Ianto in it (not to mention Tim & Jethro!)

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: Tim McGee’s worlds collide as Torchwood is drawn into an NCIS case

Author's Note: This is part of an AU where Gwen and Owen were killed by Gray. So if you want to know why Martha is married to Rhys, why Jack and Ianto have a CP, two sons and two adopted daughters, and why Andy and Ianto are Kings of an alien race that settled on Earth millennia ago, you may want to read Evolution and Bred in the Bone first. Master List is here: http://merucha.livejournal.com/57349.html

Author’s Note: Yes, I’ve taken some liberties with NCIS characters. What can I tell you? 

“You did not have the authority to call in strangers!”

“I think you’ll find, Jethro, that in this case I have all the authority I need.”

I skidded to a halt in front of the door leading to the Director’s office. I had never heard Ducky use that tone of voice, especially not with Gibbs. Those two had been friends for so long they had developed their own very personal way of fighting. I had been a fascinated spectator at a number of battles, and it was always Gibbs who turned cool and distant. It had taken me years to figure out that Gibbs hated fighting with Ducky and preferred to bury the disagreement, while Ducky insisted on battling it out until they had come to some sort of understanding. Now, it sounded as if Ducky had taken a page from the Gibbs manual. Except that what kind of authority could Doctor Donald Mallard, retired Chief Medical Examiner, have over Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Interim NCIS Director?

Lily, Gibbs’s secretary, gave me a tiny smirk as she nodded towards the door. “Go ahead, Agent McGee. He said you should go right in.”

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. “Good morning, boss. Ducky.”

Gibbs damn near snarled, but Ducky smiled in welcome. “Hello, Timothy. It’s been a long time.”

“It certainly has. You look good, Ducky.”

I wasn’t being polite. Retirement had done wonders for Ducky. He looked ten years younger and there were no worry lines around his eyes anymore.

“Thank you, Timothy. You look well yourself.”

“”If you two have finished with the compliments, maybe McGee can get around to telling me what he found.”

I gave Ducky a sympathetic grin and then turned to Gibbs. “Nothing much. We went over the office and the apartment with the proverbial fine tooth comb and didn’t find anything. Commander Zigler says neither Ziva nor Tony spent too much time at the office. Ziva did say in passing that what they were working on was the sort of thing that would appeal to me.”

“What did she mean?”

I shrugged. “She didn’t explain. As far as Zigler knows, they had gotten a lead on the smuggling ring…” I looked at Ducky. “Ah… boss…”

“Don’t worry, Tim.” Ducky said. “I’m consulting on this one.”

“Giving orders is more like it,” Gibbs snarled under his breath.

“I’ve already explained, Jethro. I’m not being difficult or trying to circumvent your authority. You need help on this one and Torchwood has a great deal of experience in these matters.”

I think that there’s a moment in everyone’s life when they realize that their orderly world is going to be hit by a runaway asteroid and there’s nothing they can do about it. I had mine at the exact moment Ducky mentioned Torchwood. Naming the thing gives it power, my mamó used to say. Torchwood was heading my way, and there was a good chance Timothy McGee would not survive the impact. Somewhere in the back of my head something small gibbered in panic.

“It seems our Doctor Mallard has been keeping secrets,” Gibbs snarled. “Our unassuming forensic pathologist packs enough punch in Washington to override not only the head of NCIS but the Chief of Naval Operations. So, Ducky, do we get to know when this Torchwood is arriving?”

“Torchwood is a what, not a who, and that can wait until we're all in the same place.” Ducky answered as if Gibbs had been the epitome of politeness. “As to who is coming, Jack Harkness, head of Torchwood Cardiff, and his partner Ianto Jones. They should be here in about thirty minutes, traffic permitting.”

The asteroid crashed dead center and left a crater several hundred miles wide. Ianto Jones had come out of nowhere four years earlier to take the Crown of Winter, the first mortal ever to do so, a position cemented a year later by the birth of his twin sons on the Winter Solstice, right on the altar at Bryn Cader Faner. He would take one look at me and know me for what I was.

My family had turned its back on the old ways and crossed the ocean in the seventeen hundreds, tired of waiting for the King my grandparents believed would never arrive. We had adapted to living in the mortal world, perfecting a shell game of interlocking family names and personas. We had been McGees in the seventeen sixties, Vaughans in the eighteen thirties, Bealths in the eighteen eighties, Griffiths in the early twentieth century and now we were McGees again. But we had never cast off our allegiances. My family was Winter, had always been and would always be, even after centuries of not visiting the Court; no political hijinks for the McGees, thank-you-very-much. I was the Winter King's subject, bound to his Blood and his Name.

Gibbs made another face and stomped away, mug in hand, to the sideboard where the Keurig coffeemaker Abby and I had given him for Christmas was always at the ready. While his back was turned, Ducky came to stand next to me.

“Don't worry so much, Timothy. It'll be all right.”

“Ducky...”

“I've known Jack for a very long time.” He gave me one of those sweet, reassuring Ducky smiles. “And I stand godfather to the Hawk.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. To judge by his amusement, I must have been giving a good impersonation of a hooked fish. Ducky knew about me. Ducky knew about the Tylwyth Teg. Ducky was godfather to one of the sons of the Winter King. Ducky was friends with the Consort... My eyes narrowed. I had heard stories about Jack Harkness.

“How well do you know him, Ducky?”

The smile turned a little wicked. “My dear boy, a gentleman does not kiss and tell.” He looked over at Gibbs, stirring a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee. “You should trust Jethro, Timothy.”

“It's not exactly the sort of thing one blurts out, Ducky.”

“What isn't?”

I winced. We had forgotten Jethro's damned bat hearing. “Ah... personal, boss. Maybe...”

The intercom on Jethro's desk saved my ass for the moment. “Director, Captain Jack Harkness and Mr. Ianto Jones to see you.”