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Story [Multi fandom drabbles and NADs] Small Time Latino Arms Dealers, beware...

Discussion in 'Non Star Wars Fan Fiction' started by Sith-I-5, Oct 31, 2015.

  1. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Jul 31, 2014
    That was a downer, but I can totally get how it happens. :(
  2. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002

    NSWFF Prompt

    “Hey Buff’.”

    The simple greeting had the three people staring at each other across the portrait studio.

    “Kevin,” The green-bespectacled Penelope Garcia, queried immediately, suspicion a heavy element of her tone, “how do you know this woman?”

    Kevin?” The slim woman with straight golden hair down past her shoulders, in the black synthetic leather mini-dress and boots, had paused in the act of setting up her easel opposite where her new clients were seated, placed there by the now departed receptionist.

    Kevin Lynch looked from the older version of the girl he had supported through high school, and college; to the woman he was paired with now.
    “Uh, Buffy and I knew each other at school. We were just friends.”

    “Oh right, just friends.” Penny was looking up into her boyfriend’s face, from inches away. “You forget that I know how to read your face; as well as training to be a profiler. You two were more than just friends.”

    For her part, “Buffy” knew better than to note aloud that “Kevin” used to be "Xander", when she knew him; but could not help mentioning something else. “Your eye has grown back?”

    Penny visibly relaxed, turning to stare at Buffy. “Okay, now I know you are confusing him with someone else. Eyes don’t just grow back.”

    The BAU's gawkish Dr Spencer Reid kept a close eye on scientific and medical developments, and would have excitedly dropped it into conversation by now, if such a thing were possible.

    The painter smiled and tittered unconvincingly. “You are right, I must be mistaken.” She eyed Garcia particularly. “I’m…I’m going to fetch an extra palette. Rocking a lot of colours there, Missy.” She spun and hurried out through the door that she had come in through.

    Kevin took a step after her, then hesitated, perhaps remembering that he was going to need a very plausible reason for following her. “I’m uh, going to powder my nose.” He took off right there, and was halfway across the room when Garcia plaintively pointed out that guys did not powder their noses.

    He hesitated at the door, looking back while beyond his right shoulder, the other woman’s silhouette was visible through the frosted glass pane in the door’s upper half. “You trust me right?”

    “You know I do. Though if you are not back in five minutes,” She was holding her large green handbag with one hand, while the other was rifling inside it, and emerged with a compact cellphone gripped in her lace-gloved fist. “-I am dialling Derek to come pick me up.”

    She referred to Derek Morgan, the FBI profiler that was colleague to both of them, but her team-mate and close platonic friend.

    "Okay, Sugarplum. And thanks."

    Penelope fretted silently the second the door closed, observing their two silhouette's through the glass, Kevin's towering over the slim woman. She nervously teased the pink tresses that were to the left of her eye-line, wrapping them round her finger.

    She was pleased to see that despite looking like they wanted to, their profiles in fact did not hug.

    "The FBI!" The strange woman's voice shrilled. "How the hell did you get into the FBI? You were a construction worker, last time I saw you!"

    "Quantico, that what we call our headquarters, was expanding, and I was involved in some of the drywall work. But then I took some computer classes, applied to join the Bureau, and got accepted as an analyst." Kevin's silhouette shrugged. "Besides, you help to save the world a couple times, and sometimes you get good references."

    Help to save the world? Penelope mouthed in silent astonishment. It did not escape her notice that the Buffy character totally did not question that statement.
    She wanted to tiptoe closer to the door, but she could hear well enough from here.

    "You should come and meet Penelope. She is a wonderful person." Kevin was saying, a compliment that had her putting a hand to her heart. "And what about your Significant Other, The Magnificent, is he looking after you?"

    The Magnificent, She mouthed.

    "How do you know about him?" Buffy queried, voice full of suspicion.

    "Hey, I'm a Fed'."

    Penelope shook her head at her geeky boyfriend trying to sound like a super spy.

    "You've been spying on me?"

    "Sorry, Buff'; it's my job. Keeping track of individuals who can avert the next apocalypse is considered in the interests of national security, though to be fair, you guys don't leave that much of a digital footprint. Leaves me plenty of time to help out Penelope and the BAU team, when they need it."


    "Behavourial Analysis Unit. Penelope's team catches serial killers." The door opened to show Kevin standing side on to the door, with his arm disappearing behind the slim woman's shoulders. "You two should meet."

    Penelope gave Buffy a small, shy wave, and clattered across the floor in her heels to meet Kevin's "friend from school".

  3. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    What a fun update this was! You really do have a knack for mixing together characters and timelines while still presenting a plausible, interesting story to read. Here, I particularly liked:

    For her part, “Buffy” knew better than to note aloud that “Kevin” used to be "Xander", when she knew him; but could not help mentioning something else. “Your eye has grown back?”

    [face_laugh] I actually chortled out loud reading that line. Oh, Buffy and the BAU team working together . . . now that is a fascinating mix.

  4. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Thank you for the feedback, Mira_Jade.

    I was already halfway through the story when I remembered, Hang on, Xander lost an eye, didn't he?

    I almost had Buffy ask after Anya too, only finding out later that that would have been an error.

    Do you think the characterisations were okay?
  5. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Supergirl: OVERFLOW

    NSWFF Prompt

    Blonde hair glistening in the afternoon sunlight, Supergirl swept up from the river to catch the ferry as it flowed over the lip of the hydro-electric dam along with tonnes of white over-spilled water from the other side that thundered past her to pound the river below.

    She had to hold the vessel’s underside carefully as the wind whipping along the dam’s curved near-vertical surface threatened to slide the slick, obviously still wet hull, from her hand-holds, and having successfully despatched her cousin, Kal El, to the Riu Montego Bay hotel with his current Smallville fangirl, the last thing she needed was to drop this passenger-laden ship over the rocks below.

    He had warned her against green crystals, and cravat-wearing bald men with dubious stories of having accidentally locked a cute Labrador puppy into their lead-lined safes.

    Cool. Cool.” She had responded, nodding to show her attention. “What’s a cravat?

    That’s what you got out of that? Look, I will leave you Batman’s number in case something comes up. He can answer any sartorial questions you come up with, and you can call him for any major incidents less than extinction-level; obviously you can call me for those, but if you are doing your job, you should be able to nip things in the bud before they get that bad.

    Kara hovered a hundred feet from the dam, holding the ferry clear of the waterfall crescendo-ing down the concaved near face, deciding whether to settle it down below her on the land at the base of the dam, or a little bit up there ahead of her, level with where the vessel had been.

    She settled on the second option, crossing to the treed area to the left of the raging waters, scything back and forth at the rock and earth with her searing scarlet heat vision to create a trench to settle the ship into, so that it did not simply topple onto its side and spill everyone on the deck over the ground.

    Hovering above the trench to give a three metre gap between the green-stained bottom, and the ground, she called up to anyone above her, "I'm going to put you down now! Hold on to something! In three. THREE. TWO. ONE."

    Kara zipped the few short metres out from under the boat before it could sandwich her, and turned back to watch if it was going to topple over, smiling with satisfaction when it did not, her cape and skirt fluttering in the cool, moisture-laden wind. She wiped some wet tresses from her face as tourists used the white-painted safety railings to pull themselves up off the decks.

    Job done.

    Note. Not quite the piece I wanted; I was looking to mix Kara and Spiderman, and have them both move onto what I had written for prompt 12 Magnet, Steel; but this, ending here still makes a coherent story.
  6. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 21, 2006
    Love your mixing of characters and fandoms
  7. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    He had warned her against green crystals, and cravat-wearing bald men with dubious stories of having accidentally locked a cute Labrador puppy into their lead-lined safes.

    Cool. Cool.” She had responded, nodding to show her attention. “What’s a cravat?


    Oh, Kara . . . I loved that little bit of interaction, and would love to see more of them from you! Though this was a very nice ficlet in of itself - another day saved and tragedy averted. I liked the technical thoughts behind how she would save the ferry, and the details you provided made the entire scene quite tangible.

    As always, thanks for sharing! =D=
  8. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    earlybird-obi-wan - Thank you for commenting.

    Mira_Jade - Thank you for the continued feedback, and for pointing out something that you liked. Having a challenge thread like yours, where you do check in on the fics created from your prompt, is a very welcome facility on the forum. :)

    Farewell - SHIELD's equivalent of sending newbies for left-handed screwdrivers

    NSWFF Prompt

    Open only if you have seen, or don't mind being spoiled about, Captain America: Winter Soldier.

    "I'm sorry, you want us to do what?" Mary Formal enquired of her combat-suited SHIELD instructor, furrowing her plucked eyebrows at the unusual request.

    She, her E-Branch colleague and friend, Liz Merrick, and their guide and instructor within the Strategic Homeland something-

    "-Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." Liz finished automatically, for her.

    "Thanks." Formal was a bit miffed that her telephathic friend had read her mind, especially since there was an un-written rule that the espers of British E-Branch did not listen in to each other's thoughts, but un-Talented agents like herself were fair game. Hang on! She rounded on her countrywoman. "You are not supposed to be able to read my mind!"

    Liz eyebrows, brown like her straight, dark hair, shot up in surprise. "Oh, am I not?"

    "Shut up, you two." Sam Hazerd yelped, setting his jaw as he crossed his beefy arms over the black short-sleeved tee that was taut with the underlying muscles. "Like I was saying, you're to join Lift Three when it reaches this floor, and assist the Strike Team in arresting Captain America."

    The grey metal doors for the identified lift, were a hundred metres down the otherwise empty corridor, to her right. Once inside, three of the four walls were toughened glass that gave a panoramic view over the grounds and moat of the Triskellion Building

    "But he's Captain America." She pointed out, reasonably she thought.

    "A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent should be prepared to deal with any infiltration by-" Sam's speech was interrupted by a voice squawking from the walkie-talkie at his belt. "The target is in the lift now. Three members of the Strike Team joining him."

    Sam unhooked the comm-device, lifted it to his lips and depressed a red button on the side with his thumb. "Copy that. Arranging backup for when it reaches the fifteenth floor." He lifted his other hand and made a shooing movement towards the lift. "Go on then."

    Mary took a reluctant step towards the lift. "We've only been here two weeks. Are you sure this is not a bit early."

    Sam turned to Liz, who had not budged from her spot beside him. "Go on, you too."


    "Her?" Mary wagged a finger at the man. "Not her. She's a lover, not a fighter."

    "She does as she's told."

    "Drokk you, does she." Formal rounded on Hazard, ignoring an update from the radio that the lift was descending. "Liz goes nowhere near that lift. What she can do, is tap into Cap's head, and tell us if he suspects anything."

    To Formal's trained eye, Hazard's face seemed to have gotten a fair bit paler in the past few seconds. "Y-you..." He hesitated, licking his lips, "'re a telepath?"

    Liz nodded, all prim in her dark blue, body-hugging uniform jumpsuit and kneeboots.

    "I'll...I'll be going then." Stepping back from them as if he had come upon them petting a skunk, the instructor seemed to have lost interest in the earlier demand.

    Mary gestured to the lift at the end of the hallway. "What about that?"

    "Oh, as you were." He turned, pushed his way through the door to the stairwell, and they caught a last shot oh his head bobbing as he descended out of sight.

    "He was another one." Liz observed quietly, looking at the slowly closing door.

    "Another what?"

    "Another one of those thinking 'hail hydra' all the time."

    Mary bit at her inner cheek in contemplation. "Maybe they are saying 'hydrant'. Could be concern about the building's fire suppression system."

    The lift pinged.

    "Farewell, then." Mary leaned in and gave her friend a quick hug, then stepped back, teeth bared nervously. "I have to see if Captain America is up for a wrestle!"

    Turning, she headed for the rendezvous.


  9. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 21, 2006
    Great story showing the characters and the use of the prompt
    Sith-I-5 likes this.
  10. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    Oh, it's my pleasure to read what these prompts have turned out - we have some great writers here, which makes my job a joy. I'm only sorry when I don't get to everything I want to - but that's DRL for you. ;)

    And this was a fun crossover, again! Your Mary is a really interesting character, as usual, and I particularly liked Liz here. The psychically finishing her thought about SHIELD was a fun line, and:

    Mary bit at her inner cheek in contemplation. "Maybe they are saying 'hydrant'. Could be concern about the building's fire suppression system."

    [face_laugh]:oops: Oooh, busted. I loved that.

    Once again, a wonderful response to the prompt! =D=
  11. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
  12. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Forgive and Forget

    NSWFF Prompt

    The two Osgoods sat on their living room, one perusing the television guide.

    The curvy young women, pleasant-faced English Roses to their friends, colleagues, and peers; were really secretive Human-Zygon duplicates of a possibly deceased member of U.N.I.T., the Unified Intelligence Taskforce.

    Neither revealed if they were the original human Miss Osgood, or a friendly alien shapeshifter who had taken on the role.

    One of them idly flipped the page to look at that evening's offerings, a smile touching her lips as her eyebrows raised. "Ooh, NCIS is on tonight. And that reminds me-"


    The second woman ducked forward from the unexpected slap upside the back of her head, and turned hurt eyes to the figure next to her, now a grey-haired man with a lined, aggrieved expression, and wearing a grey sports jacket over a light blue shirt.

    "What was that for, and who are you meant to be?" She protested.

    "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS Special Agent." The older man self-identified, tapping a finger onto the page. "And that was for shooting down my plane."

    "We were at war!" She had, a month before, disguised as the Clara Oswald girl, fired shoulder-launched missiles at the World President' airliner, during a Zygon uprising that she had led.

    The Time Lord known as the Doctor, along with her new flat-mate - now this old man - had been passengers aboard.

    "You were at war; I was just sitting down to watch The Lego Movie."

    "You were just approaching the English Coast; you wouldn't have gotten that much of the movie in anyway."

    "That doesn't justify blowing me out of the sky!" Special Agent Gibbs retorted, shape-shifting back to her earlier form.

  13. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004

    As always, you have a flare for crossovers! This was terrifically creative, and this line, in particular:

    "You were at war; I was just sitting down to watch The Lego Movie."

    - had me chuckling. As did the slap. It seems as if she had it coming. [face_mischief]:p
    Sith-I-5 likes this.
  14. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Current - Kate and the Doctor

    Note. This is actually an intro to a larger crossover project that I cannot post here.

    Kate Todd looked up, brightening at the squeal of the rough wooden door opening, seeing the Time Lord scamper across the flagstones, his expression brightening as his gaze alighted upon her.

    "Ahh, Caitlin. Still here?"

    She breathed a sigh of relief at the recognition. "Doctor."

    He paused halfway to the table, catching sight of the fare. Bushy grey eyebrows went up. "You're supervisor is treating us today, isn't he? Are you leaving us, or more specifically, me?"

    She frowned at him. "Doctor?"

    "Oh come now, Caitlin." The Time Lord waved to illustrate his point. "Normally he provides simple stuff, pizzas, fish and chips, sometimes something he picked up at a fast food emporium. But this looks like someone actually took time to prepare it." He touched his crumpled white shirt with a bony finger. "Now, I am nowhere close to making an impression on the barrier, so it is nothing to do with me! And I doubt our hooded friend has a special date red circled on a calendar. So that leaves you."

    He approached the table, roving over the patterned porcelain bowls and rectangular plates with an interested eye. A hand plucked a greasy piece of green-brown meat from a bowl, and the Doctor made ah and oh sounds that drew a small smile from her as the burning morsel made its way to his mouth.

    "I'd blow on that, if I were you." She warned, a dubious expression on her face as he popped it into his mouth, initially blowing out of his mouth to remove heat, then chewing rapidly on the meat.

    "Gae King. Stir Fried Lamb with Ginger."

    Kate bounced in her seat as I-5's voice burst up from her lap: "Kate?"

    She brought up the hands that had been sitting in her lap, and laid one forearm on the table edge while the other slid the flowing sleeve back to reveal her leather-strapped vortex manipulator, the device by which she and her DANL colleagues travelled and communicated with each other, and how they received instructions.

    The Doctor scampered over like a Strider from the Labyrinth fantasy, and bent down so low over the device, that the former NCIS agent had to lean back to avoid a concussion.
    "Is this the Big Man then?" He yelled cordially down into the device' microphone.

    "Kate? Your voice has gone husky all of a sudden-"

    "This is not Kate. As I am sure you very well knoor."

    "Doctor." The disembodied voice acknowledged. "Pleased to finally hear from you. I wish you the best of luck with your endeavours."

    "Thank you. And thank you for all the imported food by the way. Better than what I could scrape up by myself, even given your young lady's assertions that my own mind made all this up. Now," The 12th Doctor continued without pause, "Why are you taking ma Caitlin away?"

    "It's only for a short while Doctor." I-5 assured.

    "Why, only for a short while?" Kate queried, "I don't want to come back here." She glanced up into the Time Lord's ear. "No offense, Doctor."

    He straightened and stepped back a pace, gesticulating as he towered over her once again. "Well, of course you don't want to, Caitlin. It is hardly the Crowne Plaza Changi, is it?"

    "You have enough skulls to be getting on with, Doctor. You won't need Kate here collecting more from the waters for a while. Now Kate, another operation has come up, one that should last a few days, and for which I am bringing your whole team together, along with two other individuals, and some droids."



    "So, you can finish your meal together, before that stuff gets cold. Then collect together your things, both what you brought with you, that I supplied, and that the Doctor's mind put into your wardrobe. Then signal me, and I will beam you to the next location."

    "I'm ready to leave now!"

    "Now do as you are told. And another thing. One of the additions to the new team, will be the one that joined you and Tosh at Umbrella."

    Todd frowned, recalling the childlike redhead who had materialised with them inside a locked armoury within the Umbrella Corporation's Japanese facility. "Baille?"

    "She'll be there with her father, who doesn't know that I am secretly sending her on missions with you."

    "That would explain why she was so excited to be around guns. I was tempted to hand her a Kleenex."

    "I'll be needing you to keep schtum that you recognise her."


    "He wants you to pretend not to know her." The Doctor stepped to the table and slid the two clean dinner plates apart. "I'll be Mother then, shall I?"
    pronker likes this.
  15. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    This is a very interesting crossover, as always. [face_thinking] I liked the feeling of the pieces slipping into place here, it fit the prompt very well. And I particularly enjoyed your 12th Doctor voice - very well done, there! =D=
    Sith-I-5 likes this.
  16. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Prompt 35 - YOU SET MY HEART ON FIRE

    Sergeants Nicole Gravely and John Almond observed the interrogation room from outside, where their hostile superior, the unshaven Lieutenant Backstrom, faced the morose brunette they had picked up.

    8x10 glossies of crime scene photos, bodies with charred craters in their chests, spread on the table between them.

    Backstrom looked down, musing to himself. "I'm you, an insanely beautiful but antisocial man-hater who gets off on burning people's hearts during...." He frowned up at her. "No way; you're a Fire Demon?"

    "Yeah, right," Gravely smirked, shaking her head and crossing her arms. Orange flickering attracted her attention. "Oh ****! Fire extinguisher, now!"
  17. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    [face_laugh]:oops: I like this interpretation of the prompt! The last line made this one. :p
  18. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 21, 2006
    that was a real fiery interpretation
    Sith-I-5 likes this.
  19. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Rushing Headfirst

    Police Lieutenant Everett Backstrom gazed without understanding at the wall of random photographs and scraps of notepaper that his team's French civilian analyst, Nadia Paquet had prepared, and listened as her pleasant tones washed over him.

    "Oh my."

    The pause in petite blonde's stream of consciousness briefing caught everyone's attention, and the team, seated or standing, focused their attention on the back of her small miniskirted form as she stood frozen, staring up at the flotsam-covered board.

    "What is it, Nadia?" Detective Sergeant Nicole Gravely enquired from the side, the redhead's pale knuckles planted onto the edge of the grey metal table that was central to their bullpen.

    "I-I-" Nadia blinked up at the photo of a surly-faced man with an unkempt scrag of black hair resting on his shoulders, somehow curing her stammer. "I think we have found the Winter Soldier."

    Backstrom's eyebrows shot up at this. "What, the one who blew up the Sokovia Accords? Here in Portland?"

    Gravely stared at her scruffy boss in disbelief, knowing from experience what he would want to do next. "Lieutenant, shouldn't we notify Chief Cervantes and SWAT? Especially SWAT!" By rights, that unit ought to be called SERT, as it was the Special Emergency Response Team, here in Portland; but the other popular term had permeated into everyone's vocabulary.


    "No." He growled back, pointing a finger back at her. "Special Crimes found him; we get to make the bust. Saddle up, people."

    "We'll need a warrant." Detective Sergeant Almond pointed out, the be-suited veteran detective standing to the side of Paquet's evidence board. He was about the only one on the small team that their dysfunctional superior readily accepted advice from.

    "The moment we do that, the rest of the Department will know." Backstrom pointed out. "Plus the judge might deny the warrant to us." His eyes brightened. "Actually, we could tell her that we will have SWAT along."

    "Lie to a judge." Almond echoed.

    "Oh yeah, God doesn't like that sort of thing, does he?" Backstrom referenced his trusted colleague's weekend activities as a Pastor.

    "Not particularly, no." Almond engaged. "But lying to a judge would have all sorts of implications for any future cases."

    "Well, not if we're dead." Gravely interjected.

    "Oh don't be so pessimistic." Backstrom waved towards their patrolman, who provided muscle for the team, and acted as his personal driver sometimes. "Moto here could take the Winter Soldier. What was it that you told those firefighters? That you have the sort of muscles that cripple people?"

    The former MMA fighter half-grinned at the unusual praise. "Well-" He paused, then continued. "I'm always up for a challenge."

    The team's neatly dressed Forensic Liaison brushed his palm down the front of his dark blue suit jacket, and flashed the lieutenant a concerned look. "Actually sir, I don't think even Moto could take this Barnes' fellow. He does sound quite formidable."

    "Moto and I will take a car and stake out the place." The lieutenant decided, then swept his gaze over the others. "One of you ******* decide who gets the warrant, and then meet us out there with it. Paquet, call us in the car with the address. Come on, Moto." He stalked out of the bullpen, heading along the frosted-glass lined hallway that led to the stairs and lifts, the patrolman having to scramble to keep up.

    Behind them, and once the pair were out of sight, Gravely shot a glance at her civilian colleague. "Nadia, get the number for SHIELD."

    "You got it, Hobbit." The petite Frenchwoman headed for her PC.

    Almond scowled at the diminutive redhead. "You sure? We should clear that with Chief Cervantez."

    "Backstrom is going to get us killed. SHIELD are easily better qualified to pick this guy up." Gravely defended, "Besides, can you imagine the **** storm the Chief will face if we try to take him alone, and he gets away from us?"

    "Can you imagine the **** storm she'll face if the Avengers come along and wreck half the city?"

    Nadia's voice floated over from her desk. "All we need to do is get a judge to sign-off on it. The moment the warrant request enters the system, SHIELD will flag it."

    Finally a triumphant smile creased Gravely's features as she punched a fist into her palm. She hated acting alone. Especially with so many people gunning for her team. "That's right. The Lieutenant's already given us permission to get a warrant. He can't blame us if the Avengers happen to drop in."

    Almond waved the polystyrene coffee cup he had been holding throughout the briefing. "It'll be like the Shadowman Case, all over again." He reminded, referring to the child abduction case a few months before, that their leader had taken a personal interest in. The receipt of a ransom demand had turned the case into a kidnapping, which made it federal; and they had "officially" been shut out once the FBI got involved.
    Convinced the ransom demand was bogus, Backstrom had had evidence smuggled out of the Bureau, and down to his home at the docks, to do a parallel investigation. "Once it goes federal, we'll be cut out of the loop."

    * * * *

    Elsewhere in the City

    The plain dark-grey Crown Victoria P71, darling of almost every police bureau in the United States and Canada, was parked on the corner of the road perpendicular to the one with Bucky Barnes' identified house, a white wooden-panelled two-storey detached house.

    Backstrom had abandoned his usual Driving Miss Daisy position in back, and joined Moto up front, with a pair of binoculars.

    The patrolman had a zippered brown jacket on to conceal his uniform, though they had parked far enough away for that not to matter, unless the suspect had a pair of glasses (binoculars) or a telescope of his own.

    "The last time the cops caught up with this Winter Soldier," he was saying, "it was the Polizie in Germany. He's the most wanted man on the planet, so how'd he get set up over here."

    Squinting through the glasses focussed on the house, Backstrom returned, "How does any wanted criminal cross borders, Moto. He's getting help. Besides, he's probably got caches of passports and cash in multiple currencies from his HYDRA days."

    Amused, Moto bobbed his head at the idea. "Yeah, very Jason Bourne."

    "Only difference is, Barnes is real. Though you would have thought that big metal arm would have set off more than a few alarms at Portland International." Backstrom referred to the joint civil-military airport within the city limits.
    He lowered the binoculars from his face, and his voice changed to the neutral tone he adopted when he wanted to put himself into the mind of a suspect. "I'm the Winter Soldier. Would I choose an apartment in the same city or locale that I entered the United States? No. He came through two or three airports away from here."

    "Or he could have come in at the docks."

    "That would explain why no-one's seen hide or hair of him for a couple months. Sailors probably don't watch the news, apart from maritime weather reports. He could easily have passed for a random deckhand working or paying his way across the Atlantic. If Paquet hadn't found him, we probably would have caught him during the highlights of the Deadliest Catch."

    Moto turned to his superior. "You watch that?"

    "God no," Backstrom growled softly, literally shuddering at the thought, "most pointless programme on television. Plus, I live on a boat, Moto; why on Earth would I want to watch shows about them."

    The car was bouncing with Gravely and Almond sitting heavily in the back seats, to a muffled crunch sound, before either registered the rear doors being popped open. Both were wearing their dark blue Police windcheaters, bulked out by their bulletproof vests.

    "What the hell am I sitting on?" The young woman complained, then, "Never mind."
    She thrust a sheaf of typed paper between the front seats to the left of Backstrom's shoulder. "Judge signed the warrant, and patrol cars are sealing the streets around the area, in case Barnes makes a run for it."

    "Dammit. Which means SWAT is enroute too."

    "We do have permission to go in first." She added.

    "Really?" Backstrom's eyebrows raised at this unusual news. He was getting his wish, but then he glanced towards the older Detective Sergeant. "Almond, what does that suggest to you?"

    "That the Department is happy for you to die in the line of duty." He managed a small smile at the hypocrisy of their management.

    "Pleeaasse don't make me go up to the front door." Nicole pleaded, leaning between the seats.

    Backstrom grinned the mean smile of a tomcat. "I thought you'd ask that, Gravely. That stuff in the back is for you."

    "We stopped off at a Girl Scout store." Moto added, looking in the rear-view mirror as his colleagues discovered the green beret, sash, and cellophane-wrapped white box slightly flattened by Gravely's arrival.

    "Air One to Lieutenant Backstrom." Came from the microphone hooked onto the dashboard.

    Backstrom picked it up and thumbed 'Transmit' on the side of the dark-green moulded plastic device. "Backstrom, copy." He peered up at the overcast grey sky for some sign of the police helicopter that he was speaking to.

    "Sir, you have a Stark Industries' chopper inbound your location."

    "Ah ****, Iron Man." The senior officer grimaced, and not acknowledging the helicopter pilot, he turned to the two in the back, Almond looking relaxed and calm, Gravely simmering and regarding him balefully. "Which of you degenerates called SHIELD?"

    Almond did not take offense. "As soon as the warrant entered the system with Bucky Barnes written all over it, it would have tripped alarms down at the Triskellion. You know that."

    "Well, the house is still in one piece, so Stark is not here yet." Backstrom turned back round in his seat to check the skies again. He called Air One back. "Advise Starkey and Hutch that there are friendlies at the scene, and to let us do our job."

    "The Winter Soldier is on an International Warrant," Almond advised from the back seat, "so this cedes to SHIELD as soon as one of their people arrives on-site."

    "A robot-armed HYDRA assassin is laughing at us." The lieutenant growled, opening his door and stepping out of the car, Moto following suit a second later. "At me. We are going to get our revenge. And that is called Justice." He glanced into the back seat where Nicole was still fuming. "Gravely, if you put the sash and beret on, I will let you coordinate from the SWAT van."

    "As tempting an offer as that might be, Lieutenant, I will be coming in with you."

    Almond rose from the car behind Moto. "Gravely got tagged in the vest when we moved on Visser, remember?" He reminded, referring to a now deceased heroin dealer they had raided in their first case as a unit. "She should stay here with the binoculars so she can coordinate with you; I expect you will be going in round the back-"

    Backstrom scowled, "Oh, don't make it sound so ***!"

    This drew an amused expression and raised eyebrows from the tall detective.

    "Yeah, I'll be going round the rear of the house with Moto. You take SWAT up to the front door. Graveley, stay with the car." He looked across the roof of the car at his driver. "You ready?"

    "As soon as you are, Lieutenant."

    "Let's go." Backstrom led the way across the street, following the road they were already on, rather than heading to the target house. "Keep your sidearm holstered. We don't want to spook him if he happens to spot us out of his window. At least until we have him boxed in."

    Behind them inside the Crown Vic, Graveley rocked the vehicle on its springs as she squeezed between the front seats and plopped down in the passenger' seat.
    She took one of those small plastic packs that held about eight balsam-soaked tissues out from her jacket pocket and used one to wipe down the binoculars where she expected he had handled it.

    Almond, standing at the car's open right rear door, turned and signalled to the blocky black shape of the Police Bureau's SWAT van, and a moment later, heavily armed officers in dark helmets and jumpsuits disembarked either onto the pavement or into the road, long-barrelled automatic weapons aimed at their feet.

    * * * *


    Backstrom and Moto had reached the mouth of an alleyway that ran along the backs of the houses on the street, with the Winter Soldier's abode, the third place along.

    In sharp contrast to how nice and well-kept the houses and their front yards looked, the alleyway was a rough earth path with smooth pebbles and stones showing through, and overgrown with grasses and shrubs at the side. A dirt-stained pink tricycle was visible some way along it too.

    Both cops drew their automatics and held them in double-handed grips, pointed to the floor as they stepped along the alley, the lieutenant peeking over the initial hedge for sight of the house they wanted.

    * * * *

    Sergeant Almond proceeded from the street corner, diagonally across the street at a slow run, followed by three SWAT officers, his brown duster flapping around his legs as he aimed his M1911A1 automatic at the floor, a heavier ex-military pistol than the Glocks carried by his team-mates.

    The quartet headed directly for the white picket fence that fronted the property identified by Nadia back at the squad room.

    On reaching the beginning of the pathway, where a gate should be, the front door ahead of them squeaked open, all four police dropping to a knee behind the dubious safety of the painted wooden planks, their Heckler and Koch UMP submachine guns aimed at the stocky, shaggy-haired man in dark trousers, white sleeveless vest, and distinctive metal arm.

    "Mister Barnes?" Almond barked authoratively, gun steady as he rose from behind the fence, standing over the more cautious Special Weapons' officers. "Portland Police Bureau."

    "Can I help you officers?" The suspect enquired politely, around the six-inch Subway sandwich that he held up to his mouth, crumbs falling onto his barrel chest.

    * * * *

    In the car, Gravely had her Glock 19 on the seat next to her in case she needed it, and had both hands cupped around the glasses as she re-focussed them to give a sharper image of the figure in the doorway across the street.

    His demeanour did not track with what the news said about this character. Something did not feel right.

    * * * *

    Still in the alleyway, but crouching next to the eight foot high wooden fence and gate that backed onto the property, Backstrom stared at the long Remington 870 that had appeared in Moto's hands.
    "Where the hell were you hiding that?" He enquired incredulously. "What're you, a TARDIS?"

    Moto grinned. "Yeah, my boy watches that-"

    "No-one cares." The lieutenant cut him off, and raised the radio to his lips. "Talk to me, Gravely."

    "Something's not right. Over." She returned. "He's come to the front door, and seems to be engaging with Almond."

    "Barnes never come to the front door."

    "Right?!" She emphasised in agreement.

    "Normally he jumps out a window or smashes through a wall in as dramatic a fashion as he can, and does that poofy French roof-running thing." Backstrom continued.

    "Parkour." Moto supplied, squatting so he could peer through a knot in the fence into the back yard.

    "Right, that." Backstrom shuttered his eyelids, thinking aloud. "This idiot is not acting like he's even aware there is an international warrant out for him. So he's not Barnes. And its too early in the year for cos-play."

    "Could he be one of the X-Men?"

    "Even those degenerates don't want to be associated with known criminals." The lieutenant exhaled through his nose, and looked down at the wild grasses subtley hooking seeds onto his slacks, and tried again to put himself in the shoes of the suspect, given his behaviour and actions. "Mm...I'm you, a shape-shifting ass-hat that doesn't realise that the Winter Soldier is on everyone's crap list..., obviously that would only be possible if I haven't been on Earth recen-" He looked up, eyes wide with realisation. "Dammit, it's Loki!"

    "Loki?" Gravely blurted through the handset.

    * * * *

    "Loki?" Almond echoed aloud on hearing the radio.

    "What?" The suspect queried, certainly sounding taken aback. "I'm not-" He scowled back. "My own brother cannot tell, even when I'm sat on the Throne of Asgard just metres from him. How could you primitive savages work it out?"

    The figure in the doorway, right hand on the jamb, left hand holding his sub', morphed into a slighter figure with a leather green robe and a stupid-looking helm with twin curved horns.
    Loki gestured towards them with his sandwich, to the sound of ominous clicks from the SWAT weapons trained on him.

    "I'd watch those sort of hand movements, Sir." Almond warned.

    Loki took no notice. "Well, if the cat's out of the bag, bow down before me, all of you."

    "This is the United States, Sir; we do not do that here."

    "Almond, stop engaging with that idiot and get out of there." came from the Sergeant's radio, attracting Loki's ire. "We're already on the way out."

    "Idiot? Idiot?" Loki took a step towards them, immediately attracting deafening volleys of automatic weapon fire which seemed to do more damage puncturing the white-painted wood around him, than him or his clothing. "Who dares to call me that."

    Wincing against the racket, Almond waited for his kneeling compatriots to pause to reload, before continuing, "That was my-"


    The ominous sound of a sonic bang reverberated up in the sky somewhere behind the houses on the opposite side of the street.

    "Sir, thank you for your time." He tapped the SERT officers on their helmets, "Guys, we gotta go. Run away!"

    "I did not say you could leave!" Stepping down the garden path after the sprinting police, intending to stop them from fleeing, Loki was distracted by a shape swooping into view above him like a red-and-gold crucifix against the clouds. His eyes widened in recognition. "Whoops!"


    A blazing white packet of plasma energy rocketed down onto the house, instantly turning it into an expanding ball of white and brown shrapnel blowing out to the side more than up, that easily engulfed the Asgard and clattered against neighbouring properties, and rained down across the roadway, setting off car alarms and shattering windows up and down the street.

    In the middle of the road, Almond pushed himself up onto all fours, bits of wood sliding off his back. "That's the kind of thing that makes you think twice about calling SHIELD." He knelt up and looked around at the SWAT members, "Everyone else okay?"

    * * * *

    Backstrom knelt up from the side of the car that he had dropped behind, peering up through the dissipating cloud of drifting debris at Iron Man, still floating above the destroyed house, serenaded by whooping car alarms.
    "You ass-hat." He muttered acerbically, knowing Tony Stark could not hear him. "What if it had been the wrong address?"

    The End
    Last edited: Apr 21, 2019
  20. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    Oh boy, because of course it was Loki. :p That was a really interesting crossover, I particularly liked the red tape and necessary evils involved in so many agencies working alongside each other, and, as always your dialogue was a lot of fun. But, your banter normally is. I particularly liked:

    "Almond, what does that suggest to you?"

    "That the Department is happy for you to die in the line of duty." He managed a small smile at the hypocrisy of their management.

    [face_laugh] Oh, that's terrible. The last few lines here were quite the mental picture as well; I quite enjoyed them. =D=
  21. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    Thank you for reviewing, Mira_Jade.

    The last lines with Almond and Backstrom were tacked on hours after posting, cos I didn't know how to end, after the house exploded, but felt some kind of reaction was warranted from the locals.
  22. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002

    "Mama's gonna knock you out!" blared across the sun-drenched landing strip as Greg, Saskia and the team stalked slowly and with intent towards the heavyset Sea King helicopter prepped for them, its side floatation pontoons filled with concentrated knockout gas. "Mama's gonna knock you out!"

    That had been the agreed price of their involvement, a million dollars each, and this played while they were filmed by what Press they had been able to pull away from the monster tearing through the city.

    Rotors sliced the air as they lifted the chopper off the apron.

    Operation Lullaby was in effect, y'all.
  23. Mira_Jade

    Mira_Jade The Fanfic Manager With The Cape star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Jun 29, 2004
    [face_laugh] That is definitely a twist on lullaby. :p I really love how you took the inspiration and ran with it. =D=
  24. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha 2 Truths 1 Lie Host star 8 VIP - Game Host

    Aug 31, 2004
    Wonderful inventiveness =D= You have a strong grasp of character and a true gift for humor!!! [face_laugh] The crossovers mingle together very nicely. @};-

    On a side note, I will be eagerly looking out for your Nova-Trek fic. :cool: :D
  25. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    The Ghostbusters 2016 duology - In Bloom
    NSWFF Challenge

    A figure in a scarlet tracksuit drew back the drapes at the window of the Tunt Mansion in the Hamptons area of upstate New York, and watched the white cadillac crunching clockwise over the gravel of the wide circular drive, its yellow roof beacon and ancillary flashers throwing light around even as it drew up in front of the front door.

    He watched as the four women climbed out and headed for the rear of the vehicle, as a horizontal slide bearing metallic looking backpacks piled on one-another like dominoes, extruded from the back.

    All the females, the Ghostbusters team that had been all over the news, were in tan one-piece overalls, with horizontal flourescent lines across their chests.
    They slung on their packs, adjusting wide orange shoulder straps, and stomped up the white marble steps, between the crenellated columns and thumped on the thick wooden door.

    Fortunately, the lady of the house, the multi-millionairess Cheryl Tunt, had gone off to work, so it was up to the blond man who had been leering from the window, to head to the front door, to see the visitors in.

    "Oh thank you for getting here so promptly!" He gushed, knowing that quoting two grand (two thousand dollars) while on the phone to their secretary, would have helped.

    The chubby member, big-boned, whatever, seemed to be the spokesperson. "You reported paranormal activity, Sir?" Her voice was a bit nasally.

    He found himself looking at the taller member of the group, only dragging his attention back to the speaker with some effort. "Yes, come in please." He pulled the door open, and allowed them to enter and stare around in awe at the high ceiling and chandelier that were over the black-and-white chequered floor, and the two wide stairecases up to the left and right of the lobby area, red carpeting, chipped gold bannisters. "I'm Barry Tunt."

    "Abby." The spokeswoman laid a palm on her own ample chest, then pointed out her cohorts as they crowded inside, "Erin, Holtzman, and Patty." The first two gave shy waves and blew a pink bubblegum respectively, while the third, who turned out to be the dark giantess, nodded gravely down at him.


    "What the hell was that?" Abby exclaimed, all four of them turning their backs on him to look towards the direction of the noise.

    He could see on the backs of each backpack, a barred circular window, behind which, scarlet energy streams seemed to be spinning around.

    A slimmer woman, long brown hair draped over the top of her pack, and the only one of the three looking vaguely professional, held up a small device that looked like a black tuning fork, with dark LEDs on the moveable arms that were even now opening out like the horizontal parts on a crucifix. "No readings on the PKE meter," she reported.

    Patty looked round and down at him. "We don't do Jurassic Park-style interventions, you know. Ghosts only. I'm not doing another dragon."

    He stared unblinkingly back up at her. "I-I have no response to that."

    "Doesn't merit one." Abby put in. "We will still look around."

    "This way please." Tunt led the way along the hallway between the staircases, towards the back of the house, where a wall of frosted glass, several metres high and wide, stood before them, with a set of glass and bronzed doors at the centre. Indistinct, but large immobile silhouettes were barely visible through the glass. "Most of the activity has been in the hothouse."

    "Hothouse?" Patty echoed.

    There was a pop of bubblegum from the group behind him as he grasped a door handle in both hands and pushed the double barriers open before him, a thick bank of hot grey steam rolling out over him and the women, instantly bringing beads of perspiration to their faces.

    "Whoo-wee!" Abby exclaimed, desperately fanning herself with a hand as the mist cleared before them, showing several huge plants towering over them, with thick green leaves, some of the flora in bloom, whether it was their season outside or not. "Holy heck, look at...hang on." She removed her spectacles, which had quickly steamed up, and pulled a handkerchief from a pocket to clean the lenses.

    The tall one was the first to step in, moving around the stalled Abby. She reached over her own shoulder to pull a pipe-like projector from her pack, and held it close to her chest. "Well, at least its not mannequins."

    Abby put her glasses on, blinked, and followed her colleague, eventually followed by the rest of the quartet.

    Barry, whose rental car was parked nearby, had bought some WD-40 as a precaution on the drive up, and oiled the door hinges before the team arrived, and was already closing them behind the quartet when they froze, startled, looking around.

    "Did you guys see those things move?"


    "What the- My leg?" One of the girls was up-ended, and dragged screaming into the undergrowth, her shrieks stopping suddenly!

    "Let's rock!" That sounded like the bubblegum woman, Holtzman. A flare of orange and red lit up beyond the firmly closed doors, which reverberated as Abby flattened against it, her face distorted through the glass.

    "Hey, open up!" Something whipped her out of sight.

    "Is that how you get them dip-shipping Ghostbusters devoured by carnivorous plants, Barry?" The imposter, Barry Dillon, drawled to himself. "Yes it is, Other Barry. Yes it is."

    The End

    Note: Barry Dillon and the absent Cheryl Tunt, are characters in Archer.