Out of the Ordinary
Sep. 17th, 2017 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/NCIS crossover (also DMC because the Redgrave thing => different halloween. not much impact yet on the main story.)
Summary: Abby has a report on the ISWC and Xander.
Word Count: 1069
Rating: Gen
The one-eyed man glances up and smiles knowingly before continuing with his briefing. At least, that’s what he assumes it is, though it’s nothing like what he’s used to, given that all the ‘agents’ are eighteen or maybe twenty at the most and girls, and there seems to be an excessive amount of squealing involved. It would take a braver man than he to be their CO, though he’s never going to say that.
Instead, he goes and joins Abby and they go into the elevator.
“So, big news.”
“Yes, pages and pages of juicy information, Gibbs.” The stack she’s holding does seem thick. “Okay, so there’s a lot of conflicting information out there. No one knows much about them, but nobody likes working with them. The only ones who work with them on a regular basis, and by ‘regular’ I mean maybe once or twice a year, is a very specialized branch of the army. They’re covert ops and there’s absolutely no mission statement or indication of what they do. Anything else is classified. Most of what I found is people complaining about them swooping in and taking over crime scenes, but they can’t actually complain about it much because what they work on is classified. They sprang into existence three years ago, but they had some sort of predecessors because they took over some previous accounts. The last ones seemed to be a little shady—worked in England, and I’m pretty sure they answered to nobody if their complete lack of records are any indication. Now it seems like there’s some type of paperwork being filed. It’s just not anywhere I can find. One of the leaders, Rupert Giles, seems to have a thing against computers, which of course is a perfectly justified way of life.” That earns a smile. “Anyway, so I don’t think any of their records are filed where I can get to them. Most of what I can get to is about the people involved. They don’t cover all the records. So, Rupert Giles. Relevant stuff in there. Apparently, he was their school librarian.”
“The librarian,” Gibbs repeats.
“Yep, librarian. I had to read that a couple of times too. Apparently, that’s what his degree was, from Oxford. A doctorate. And yet he served as their high school librarian.”
“Definitely hinky,” Gibbs agrees.
“Um, there is a good thing. There’s nothing about them being ineffective. They’re good at what they do. They just step on a lot of toes when they do it. Supposedly.” Not an attitude Gibbs would dislike if they just happened to be at someone else’s crime scene. “They’ve made enemies of Wolfram & Hart.”
That gets him to snort. “Good.” Although perhaps making enemies of a huge law firm isn’t the best idea, from his own, thankfully brief dealings he wouldn’t mind punching one in the face, either.
“There’s a few things about your new worst enemy,” she continues, shuffling through. “His birth name, which actually took me forever to find, is actually Alexander Lavelle Harris, but he had it changed to Redgrave three years ago, reasons unknown. Though that might have something to do with the police reports and the fact that he filed for emancipation.” She looks unhappy now. “Gibbs, this kid was seriously abused. In and out of the hospital all the time. Unfortunately, he lived in Sunnydale, California—you know, that town the earth gobbled a few years ago—so a lot of records are just missing, but a few enterprising nurses managed to get a few records out, and he was apparently a pretty sympathetic patient. Any time it was too serious, though, he had a habit of checking himself out, probably because he didn’t have the money to pay for any operations. The longest stay he had in the hospital was for the loss of his eye, and there’s no record of payment although that might have had something to do with the town falling into a sinkhole and a lot of records being lost shortly after.”
“And now he’s an officer at some extremely secretive alphabet agency.” Something doesn’t track.
“Yep. Oh—I had to hack a little to get this, which you didn’t hear from me—”
“My lips are sealed,” he promises with a smile.
“—But there was also some sort of secret Army operation in the town codenamed The Initiative, and there’s something about a 314 Project? They requisitioned some uranium but beyond that there’s no indication of what it was all about. There aren’t any more acquisitions requests or anything. It looks like they took all of their own hardware from the base in the town. There might be a connection between it and the covert ops army group, but I didn’t manage to find much.” She’s frustrated, but then, it’s more than he had fifteen minutes ago.
“Good work, Abbs. Anything else?” he asks.
“A little. I thought I’d also go through the records of his team, you know, just to be sure they’re the kind of people we want around. Most of them have only been in this line of work since one to four years ago. The ISWC has records going back to seriously long ago, but the name was only used for the first time three and a half years ago, again, only months after Sunnydale went down. Gibbs, there’s no sign of any reason why these girls would be a part of an international agency taking over crime scenes. Until they joined this ISWC, their records read like those of your average high school-slash-college students.” They don’t make sense. Not that that’s anything Gibbs didn’t know.
“Something’s wrong, but that’s why we’ll keep an eye on them,” he tries to reassure her, and she smiles.
“Aye aye, cap’n!” She salutes and giggles as he kisses the top of her head and hits the elevator button again.
They walk out, and one of the girls seems to be twisting DiNozzo’s arm behind his back.
Mr. Redgrave addresses them from across the room without looking up. “What did I talk about, girls? No breaking of the NCIS agents; we need them intact. Fail this mission directive and you do not earn that fun night of delicious-filled ice cream.” There’s instant whining, but they all look sufficiently chastised, and the one lets go of Tony.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/NCIS crossover (also DMC because the Redgrave thing => different halloween. not much impact yet on the main story.)
Summary: Abby has a report on the ISWC and Xander.
Word Count: 1069
Rating: Gen
“Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs! I have news! Big news!” Abby’s excited.
The one-eyed man glances up and smiles knowingly before continuing with his briefing. At least, that’s what he assumes it is, though it’s nothing like what he’s used to, given that all the ‘agents’ are eighteen or maybe twenty at the most and girls, and there seems to be an excessive amount of squealing involved. It would take a braver man than he to be their CO, though he’s never going to say that.
Instead, he goes and joins Abby and they go into the elevator.
“So, big news.”
“Yes, pages and pages of juicy information, Gibbs.” The stack she’s holding does seem thick. “Okay, so there’s a lot of conflicting information out there. No one knows much about them, but nobody likes working with them. The only ones who work with them on a regular basis, and by ‘regular’ I mean maybe once or twice a year, is a very specialized branch of the army. They’re covert ops and there’s absolutely no mission statement or indication of what they do. Anything else is classified. Most of what I found is people complaining about them swooping in and taking over crime scenes, but they can’t actually complain about it much because what they work on is classified. They sprang into existence three years ago, but they had some sort of predecessors because they took over some previous accounts. The last ones seemed to be a little shady—worked in England, and I’m pretty sure they answered to nobody if their complete lack of records are any indication. Now it seems like there’s some type of paperwork being filed. It’s just not anywhere I can find. One of the leaders, Rupert Giles, seems to have a thing against computers, which of course is a perfectly justified way of life.” That earns a smile. “Anyway, so I don’t think any of their records are filed where I can get to them. Most of what I can get to is about the people involved. They don’t cover all the records. So, Rupert Giles. Relevant stuff in there. Apparently, he was their school librarian.”
“The librarian,” Gibbs repeats.
“Yep, librarian. I had to read that a couple of times too. Apparently, that’s what his degree was, from Oxford. A doctorate. And yet he served as their high school librarian.”
“Definitely hinky,” Gibbs agrees.
“Um, there is a good thing. There’s nothing about them being ineffective. They’re good at what they do. They just step on a lot of toes when they do it. Supposedly.” Not an attitude Gibbs would dislike if they just happened to be at someone else’s crime scene. “They’ve made enemies of Wolfram & Hart.”
That gets him to snort. “Good.” Although perhaps making enemies of a huge law firm isn’t the best idea, from his own, thankfully brief dealings he wouldn’t mind punching one in the face, either.
“There’s a few things about your new worst enemy,” she continues, shuffling through. “His birth name, which actually took me forever to find, is actually Alexander Lavelle Harris, but he had it changed to Redgrave three years ago, reasons unknown. Though that might have something to do with the police reports and the fact that he filed for emancipation.” She looks unhappy now. “Gibbs, this kid was seriously abused. In and out of the hospital all the time. Unfortunately, he lived in Sunnydale, California—you know, that town the earth gobbled a few years ago—so a lot of records are just missing, but a few enterprising nurses managed to get a few records out, and he was apparently a pretty sympathetic patient. Any time it was too serious, though, he had a habit of checking himself out, probably because he didn’t have the money to pay for any operations. The longest stay he had in the hospital was for the loss of his eye, and there’s no record of payment although that might have had something to do with the town falling into a sinkhole and a lot of records being lost shortly after.”
“And now he’s an officer at some extremely secretive alphabet agency.” Something doesn’t track.
“Yep. Oh—I had to hack a little to get this, which you didn’t hear from me—”
“My lips are sealed,” he promises with a smile.
“—But there was also some sort of secret Army operation in the town codenamed The Initiative, and there’s something about a 314 Project? They requisitioned some uranium but beyond that there’s no indication of what it was all about. There aren’t any more acquisitions requests or anything. It looks like they took all of their own hardware from the base in the town. There might be a connection between it and the covert ops army group, but I didn’t manage to find much.” She’s frustrated, but then, it’s more than he had fifteen minutes ago.
“Good work, Abbs. Anything else?” he asks.
“A little. I thought I’d also go through the records of his team, you know, just to be sure they’re the kind of people we want around. Most of them have only been in this line of work since one to four years ago. The ISWC has records going back to seriously long ago, but the name was only used for the first time three and a half years ago, again, only months after Sunnydale went down. Gibbs, there’s no sign of any reason why these girls would be a part of an international agency taking over crime scenes. Until they joined this ISWC, their records read like those of your average high school-slash-college students.” They don’t make sense. Not that that’s anything Gibbs didn’t know.
“Something’s wrong, but that’s why we’ll keep an eye on them,” he tries to reassure her, and she smiles.
“Aye aye, cap’n!” She salutes and giggles as he kisses the top of her head and hits the elevator button again.
They walk out, and one of the girls seems to be twisting DiNozzo’s arm behind his back.
Mr. Redgrave addresses them from across the room without looking up. “What did I talk about, girls? No breaking of the NCIS agents; we need them intact. Fail this mission directive and you do not earn that fun night of delicious-filled ice cream.” There’s instant whining, but they all look sufficiently chastised, and the one lets go of Tony.
