Title: Adaptation, a Torchwood/NCIS Crossover (2/?)

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?

First part is here

The man who swept in redefined larger than life. Tall, broad-shouldered, projecting charm like a beauty queen at a ribbon-cutting except his was completely natural, and a hardness lurking in his blue eyes that I would be reluctant to face head on. I recognized him from the mirror-images my grandmother's sister had sent at the time of the King's coronation. This was Captain Jack Harkness, Winter's Consort, and birth parent to the King's two sons. There were so many outlandish rumors floating about him that nobody knew exactly what to believe, but the Small Ones had confirmed that he was only partly human and that he was in some way bound to the energy of the Great River.

His eyes swept over all of us. I felt myself measured and weighed. I must have passed because he gave me the sort of smile that went straight to the hormones. Then he threw his arms around Ducky and kissed him soundly. The gesture seemed totally comfortable for both men, but I heard Gibbs growl. Discretion being the better part of valor, I managed to keep my face straight.

“Jack. Behave.”

The admonition was made in a weary sort of voice that told me it had probably been spoken a thousand times before. I looked towards the speaker. Ianto Jones was also tall, but slighter than his Consort, and much more self-contained. He seemed much too young for his achievements, but when I Looked at him with all my senses, the blast of Power rocked me back on my heels. The Lady Achren had spent those millennia breeding the Jones family very well indeed.

He looked at me first. I bowed my head and brought my hand to tap my chest and then out and low to the side, holding an imaginary sword: My head, my heart, and my sword arm at your service. I knew Gibbs was watching but I could not not do it. It was required of someone of my station on first meeting the King, a sign of allegiance to his sovereignty, and some things are too deeply imbedded to be refused or ignored. He dipped his head in acceptance, and I found I could breathe properly again. He hugged Ducky in a much more restrained fashion, then turned to Gibbs.

“Director Gibbs, I’m Ianto Jones and this is Jack Harkness.”

Gibbs tried the intimidating stare bit, but neither man seemed unduly impressed. Finally, he addressed Harkness.

“Are you entitled to wear that coat?”

Harkness grinned. “Twice over.”

“Yeah.” Gibbs was not even trying for politeness. He didn't like the answer, and didn't make a secret of it. “Ducky says you can help us. How?”

Harkness dropped the charm. “By identifying what you have in your morgue and perhaps even telling you how to fight it. Unless you plan on continuing to lose agents, Director.”

I had never heard Gibbs’s title used as an insult before – except by Gibbs. He didn’t like the reversal much. “What I have in the morgue is a dead marine.”

“I doubt very much that Ducky would have pressed that particular button he did for a dead marine. If what you have in your morgue is what he thinks it is, you have trouble.”

Gibbs transferred the glare to Ducky. “Why couldn't you just tell me?”

“Because I'm not sure, Jethro!” Ducky threw up his hands. “I've only seen it in medical report photos. Besides, you would not have believed me.”

“When was the last time I doubted your word?”

“Give the Director a test run, Ducky,” Harkness said. “Tell him about it.”

Ducky squared his shoulders and looked directly at Gibbs. “What you have in the slab downstairs is possibly a male of a non-human sentient race called Silurians.”

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, then exploded. “What the hell kind of joke is this, Ducky?” He slammed his mug on the desk, spilling coffee all over the blotter. “Are you really trying to make me believe you brought the search for Tony and Ziva to a standstill because you think we found some sort of... alien?”

“Not some sort. A very specific sort.” Harkness interjected. “A Silurian.”

Gibbs rounded on him. “And you helped him. Who the hell are you, anyway? Did you hack into the computers or something?” He turned to me. “McGee, start looking for evidence of interference in the medical...”

“Is that what you think of me, Jethro? After all our years working together, you really believe that of me?”

The sadness in Ducky's voice brought Gibbs to a halt. He ran his fingers through his hair. “No, of course not! But Jesus, Ducky... it's either I never knew you at all or you're... sick, and I'd rather believe you're joking.”

“Jethro...”

“Ducky. There is no such thing as aliens.”

“Technically speaking,” Harkness said thoughtfully, “they are not aliens. They are from Earth, just not human.”

Gibbs ignored him and spoke to Ducky. “Do you hear him, Ducky? Do you really hear what he's saying?”

“Yes, I do.” Suddenly Ducky's voice turned hard and sharp. “And I have trusted him for longer than I've trusted you. For once, he has never suggested I am senile.”

“Ducky. There. Are. No. Such. Things. As. Aliens.”

The sinking feeling in my stomach turned into a bottomless pit. Gibbs would never believe what Ducky and Harkness were trying to tell him without proof, the kind of proof that it would take time to provide. I didn't know if Tony and Ziva had that kind of time left. I stepped forward before I had time to think about it.

“Yes, there are, boss.”

“McGee, don't you start with your...”

I raised a hand. “Be quiet, Jethro.”

At any other time I would have laughed at his astonishment. While I still had his attention, I dropped my glamours and waited for his reaction.