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madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Torchwood/BtVS 'Casting' AU
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,221
Cast of Characters:
Destiny = Buffy
Brynwon = Angel
Nigel Ward (fellow police officer) = Oz
Buffy/Angel is a thing
Summary: People have been disappearing in Cardiff. Police Officer Destiny Sumner has been assigned to the investigation, only to find that she is not the only one looking at the evidence-something called Torchwood has ordered all police officers off the investigation and is conducting their own. She isn’t willing to let this go, however, and in her desire to know the truth, she might find a little too much...
She’d overslept the next morning, and had to hurry. Didn’t catch the bus, so she ended up running the whole way. Sometime, she’d actually have to earn her license back. This was just ridiculous.
She grinned at her superior, Mabyn, as she rushed in to work.
She got a roll of the eyes. “You’re okay if you’re late, but I will not stand that wind-blown hair in my department. Go to the bathroom and fix it, you silly lady.”
She stopped stock still and saluted. “Yes, ma’am!” she barked out, smiling.
“Must’ve had a good night,” Mabyn grinned. “Once you’re presentable I want to hear all about it, and that’s an order.”
“Got it,” Destiny stated, and then stopped. “Oh, if you’re not too busy, would you do me a favor? Look up something called ‘Torchwood’ for me.”
Mabyn rolled her eyes. “I was planning on very little to do today. I wanted to paint my fingernails again, but can’t decide what color.”
“There’s a hot bloke who works there,” Destiny stated, winking.
“Anything for you, dear.” They both chuckled at that.
After a little bit of paperwork from the incident at the pub last week, she looked up to see Mabyn. “That was quick.”
Her superior laughed. “Didn’t find anything as of yet, though there were some really pretty photos. Apparently a requirement for their hiring is good looks. Anyway, that witness at the hospital’s getting restless again, and Cadwgan wants to get coffee. Would you be willing to go down there and fill in-for a bit? Won’t be long.”
She sighed and stood up. “Well, it’s not the best, but it beats paperwork. I’ll go.”
When she got to the right floor, she wondered whether someone was playing a practical joke on her again. There was no one there, no sign of any living soul except for her.
She was just about to push her way into the room, when she noticed something at the end of the hallway. She turned toward it instead, calling out. “Hey, where is everybody?”
The person turned toward her, hissing, with some of those fake fangs in place. Grey jumpsuit thing with frills at the edges. A few bony ridges on the cheeks that had to be glued on-looked half like a cat, really. She rolled her eyes. Escapee from the mental ward here.
“Hey! I just got on my shift, and there’s something really weird going on...” someone called from the other end of the hallway. She turned to look, and there was something else at the other end, something in a silly mask. Similar look, only more hairless, and its jaw and fangs ‘stuck out’. Wearing leather, no less. What was this, a geek’s convention?
At least the guy that wandered out was a normal, somewhat handsome male in scrubs.
“These things are really weird,” he stated, poking at it.
She screamed as it leaned over and sunk its fangs into his neck, not remembering that this must be...a stunt, right? Masks and special effects, right? Not sure why but...maybe students? They didn’t need a reason, did they?
She screamed again as the more normal one, was charging at her. She heard the “oof” as the thing threw the person beside her against the wall, but reacted on instinct. She ran to the stairwell, breaking the wooden railing that she’d remembered being there. Another second and the door flew open, the thing practically throwing itself at her. There was a weird, creepy loud howl as the thing looked down incredulously at the railing poking out of its chest before bursting into flames-not real flames, they couldn’t be, because they weren’t hot-and quickly turning into a pile of ash.
In another second, the door burst open again, and she broke off another section of railing, turning to face the intruder with it in hand.
She turned back, and...it was Prettyboy. In all his glory.
He stared, uncomprehendingly, and then down at the pile of dust at her feet. Then he hit the communicator thing in his ear. “Okay, guys, we’re down one vamp. Some pretty girl got lucky. That or she’s secretly Wonder Woman. Still got weevil tearing at us down the hall though, so some backup sometime soon might be nice.”
With that, he grabbed her arm and hustled her down the flights of stairs, eventually breaking off to run down one of the hallways at top speed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, not that she minded being woman-handled by this bloke-wait, no, she did! They were still being insane and not explaining anything!
He finally stopped, not breathing even a little harder. “You’ll be safe here. Don’t follow us. Got lucky once, but a vampire’s a whole different story than a weevil. Good job, by the way. If we ever end up giving medals for civilians keeping calm in the line of fire, you’ll win by default. Always goes to the prettiest.”
With a wink, he turned on one heel and ran back the way that he came.
As if she was going to stay there with no answers! And what had he meant by ‘civilian’ anyway? She was a cop!
She was too shocked, for a minute, to follow, but after a minute she started running back. After two floors, she realized something-he was faster than her, and she was a bit out of breath.
She caught just the briefest glimpses of that beautiful coat swishing ahead of her and tried to put on a burst of speed, panting as she went. His direction of running changed after another crackle of what sounded like radio, but she couldn’t hear what he said.
Great. He seemed to be heading for the other stairwell. She could try the elevator-might be faster. Of course, he might lose her, if he was faster than her, or hide out on one floor or something. But then, he’d lose her anyway at this rate. He must be really fit.
Her gamble paid off-she spotted Prettyboy in his characteristic coat, hurrying off with a red-haired woman in a pretty ruffled brown top that she assumed was Psychic Girl, a bloke in a hoodie (probably Less Handsome), and what looked to be the leather-clad form of the mask-wearing stuntsman from earlier.
They were heading toward the front. She was close, but her legs were beginning to seize up.
“Stop! Police!” she yelled. They were going to give her answers. Since they cooperated with the law on occasion, they had to have respect for the law, right?
They barely glanced back. Prettyboy looked back and smirked at her, winking, but didn’t stop, the infuriating man.
They unceremoniously bundled the Stuntsman into a cage in the back that looked like it glowed, just briefly, when the door closed, then jumped in. She caught up as the SUV squealed off and huffed in frustration. She fumbled with her keys-the keys the untrusting Nigel had finally let her have back-knowing that by the time she turned it on, it would be too late. Prettyboy and his pack would already be gone, leaving her frustrated and answer-less.
Well, she supposed, it was finally time to listen to the words of her grandfather: research, research, research. She’d get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing she ever did.
“Well, you were right, Destiny, he is gorgeous. Found an old file that hasn’t been put in its proper place-just one case Torchwood’s been involved in. This the bloke?” Mabyn handed Destiny an old black and white photograph-well, it looked old. Must be a trick of the camera, or something.
Hint of the same roguish smile to the lips, same deep, penetrating eyes, longer hairstyle, but exact same coat.
“It’s him. What case was this?” she asked nonchalantly, handing the photo back.
“Well, that’s the thing. You must be seeing ghosts, because this guy fought in World War I. Was investigating a case for Torchwood in the 1920s. Captain Alexander Blade.” Mabyn whistled, staring at him. “I wish he was around now, though. Love to have that man on my arm.”
Destiny blinked, at first wondering whether she had been going mad, but then a simple solution presented himself. “Maybe Torchwood’s a family business?”
“Doubt it. It was shut down in the 80’s. Think the next time you see that ghost, you could direct him to haunt me, hmm?” she asked.
A little more research on Torchwood found...very little. It was apparently an organization that was started by one of the royal family somewhere in the 1800s. They were very hush-hush and secretive. The last public note about them said that an Alexander Blade was knighted in return for some unnamed service to the realm shortly after World War II.
Well, that was utterly useless.
Wait.
She’d got a glimpse of the license plate number. What was it? She squeezed up her eyes, trying to remember...
It was one of three license plates, one that ended up registered to an old couple near the coast and the other two drawing a blank.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m just trying to find one car! Why can’t you...?” She paused in the middle of yelling at her computer. It was, after all, only a computer. “I’m going to get a breath of fresh air,” she muttered at the screen, leaving it blinking. “And then if you still refuse to cooperate, I’m going to arrest you.”
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