galadriel1010 | Entries tagged with csi

Greg’s eyes flickered before he opened them fully, the usual early morning worries of ‘where am I and how did I get here’ flying away like ephemera when his gaze lighted on the still peacefully sleeping face of Nicholas Stokes. His breath caught in delight and he smiled against the Texan’s chest as the fog in his mind cleared to reveal his surroundings fully, but nothing mattered really apart from the strong arms holding him close, the fingers tangled with his own and the steady heartbeat that seemed to pulse through both of them. They’d just collapsed into bed together the night before, too tired to do anything more. They’d always been too tired to do anything more, or too scared; Greg thought that it might spoil what they had by now. Whenever they went away to conferences or there was a party at someone’s house or one of them broke down and had to get a lift home, any excuse they could find really, they took the opportunity to crawl into bed together and just hold each other. It wasn’t much really, not what anyone else would call a proper relationship, but it was what they shared and that was enough.

“Greggo, tickles.” Nick groaned and squeezed Greg’s hand where it lay on his chest, stopping the fingers that had been idly tracing patterns on his skin.

“Sorry.” Greg muttered with a smile, scooting up to kiss him gently. The older man groaned against his lips and wrapped his arms around Greg’s neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss to a level of fiery passion. Eventually they broke apart and the Californian smiled down at him, leaning closer briefly for another gentle kiss before pulling back further and straddling his hips with his hand flat on his chest, “That a better way to wake up?”

“Much better.” Nick chuckled, now fully awake and tugged Greg back against him, nipping lightly at his collarbone before flipping him over and tickling him mercilessly.

Tears were rolling down the young man’s cheeks by the time someone knocked at the door and Jasmine’s voice called out, “Are you two decent in there?”

Nick stopped for long enough to reply, “Yup, door’s open.” But didn’t move from his position over his young lover

Jazz poked her head around the door and laughed at the sight of Greg’s flushed, tearstained and still laughing face, “You two having fun there?”

Greg squirmed and laughed, “Help Jay, save me from this monster.”

She appeared to consider it for a moment but grinned evilly, “You hold him down Nick, I’ll tickle his feet. Erm… I’m just about to do breakfast, for want of a better word. You two OK with pancakes?”

“Sounds good to me.” Greg gasped, taking advantage of Nick’s distraction to squirm out from underneath him and hide in the wardrobe. “Now keep him away!”

Nick’s breath caught as Greg shut the wardrobe door on himself, closing it completely and ‘protecting’ him from the older man’s good-natured attack. The closed door, Greg shut in there… He closed his eyes as memories swept over him and clenched his fists tight, starting when a warm hand touched his arm gently, “Nick, are you OK?”

Greg poked his head out of the wardrobe at the question and hurried over, pulling Nick down onto the bed and wrapping his arms around him in horror, “Oh God Nick, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

“It’s OK.” He put his hand over the younger man’s and met his eyes, hearing Jazz retreat from the room once she was sure he was OK, “I’m OK, you’re OK. I’ll…”

“Hey.” Greg kissed him softly, “I’m so sorry, I should have thought.”

“Not your fault, we all get caught up in the moment occasionally.” He sighed and kissed Greg again, this time slow and lingering, drawing comfort from it and pouring reassurance back, “I love you Greg Sanders, don’t ever doubt that.”

“Never have, never will, never could.” He pulled Nick down so that the older man’s head rested against his chest and sighed, “I have to admit, it feels good to be out of the closet.”

Nick groaned, “I knew it, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Sorry.” Greg chuckled and the sound vibrated around the two of them as they held on to each other. Eventually the older man squeezed his boyfriend gently and stood up, flexing his shoulders gently and smiling at the look on Greg’s face.

“See something you like?”

“Something I like a lot.” Greg agreed, swinging over the bed and looking through the drawers, “I hope there’s something suitable to wear around here, otherwise everyone will know something’s up.”

Nick chuckled and opened the wardrobe fully, “It’s a safe house, which mean’s there’ll probably be lots of black… And a Hawaiian shirt if you’re interested?”

The younger man turned and caught it as it was thrown at him, “Oooh, just my colour. What’s that doing in there?”

“It’s not, you’ve got it, but they look to have a bit of everything really. Lots of black.” He pulled out a dark red T-shirt with a white guitar stamped across it and a black one with the same motif and held them up, “What do you think?”

“Yeah, I like the black.” Greg looked down at himself, he was now wearing the Hawaiian shirt over a white T-shirt and looked much like he had in his lab rat days, “Somehow this feels weird.”

“Looks good though. Would look even better with trousers.” Nick pointed out and he pulled a pair of jeans on, followed by the black T-shirt

“Fair point.” Greg hunted around and found his jeans from the night before, “Jazz didn’t even bat an eyelid.”

“Apart from checking us out you mean?”

“Checking you out you mean, which is only natural.” He came up behind his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling gently at the back of his neck, “Found anything interesting?”

“Mm-hm. Lots of corsets.” He pulled one out, a red and black number with lots of lace, “I wonder what Jazz looks like in one of these?”

“I suspect she’d show us if we asked.” Greg chuckled, “Come on, I smell breakfast.”

Downstairs they could hear Jazz chattering and laughing happily before they got down to the kitchen and actually saw her, dressed in black pyjama bottoms and a white vest top, with a black top to match the bottoms slung over the back of a chair. A computer screen set into the front of a cupboard showed another kitchen with a blonde man moving around and also preparing breakfast. “… Jack and Ianto make it downstairs last night?”

“Yeh, they did.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, actually lay awake for quite a while down in our room, it’s a bit empty without you.”

“I miss you too.” She leaned on a chair as she poked at a pancake, oblivious to the two men watching her, “Didn’t sleep a wink today, but that’s mainly because I got dragged out by Liberty Towers on a drug run.”

“Fun. You’ve got company by the way.”

She turned slightly and flipped the pancake smoothly, “Heya guys, sleep well?”

“Yes thanks.” Greg grinned at her and waved at the screen, “Evening, John?”

“Good morning Greg, oh, hey sleeping beauty.”

“Heya John.” Ianto’s voice joined the conversation and the man himself soon wandered across the picture, waving lazily at the camera on his way to the coffee machine, “Anyone for coffee?”

“Thanks Ianto, you two?” Jazz grinned at Nick and Greg, enjoying their confusion

“Erm… He’s in Cardiff, right?” Greg asked, sliding into a chair

“Yeah.”

“And we’re in Vegas.”

“Your usual Jay?” Ianto asked, the smirk audible in his voice

“You’re a star Yan.”

“I’ll send three over, see what you two make of it.” Moments later the oven pinged and Jazz opened the door, pulling out a tray with three mugs of coffee and handing them out, putting hers on the work surface whilst she flipped the last pancake and put the plate on the table.

“Erm…” Greg’s expression of complete bemusement, followed closely by astonished delight when he finally took a sip of the coffee, was too much for those watching who knew what was going on. Jazz collapsed into a chair with laughter and grabbed the bag of marshmallows, “What did we say?”

“It’s a portable teleportation device. Turns any metal box into a teleport station. It’s top secret, just in the testing stages and made using alien tech, but I’ve got one so that I can send stuff from wherever I am in the world, and they’ve got one so that I can send them the stuff.” Jazz explained, popping a marshmallow into her mouth and folding her pancake over on top of the pile of marshmallows, chocolate and more chocolate.

“How does it work?”

“No idea, you just attach it to the front of the box, set the destination device and whoop. Off it goes.” She laughed, “And if the device you send it to isn’t attached at the time it gets queued up, like an email.”

“That’s brilliant.”

“It’s extremely useful.” An American accent was added to the mix and they saw Jack wander across and tilt Ianto’s head back as he sat at the table in Cardiff to plant a kiss gently on his lips. “Morning gorgeous, morning all.”

“Heya Jack, put some clothes on dearest.” Jazz laughed, “Whatcha having for breakfast over there?”

“Full English.”

“Welsh.” Ianto corrected with a laugh, “You?”

“Pancakes.” Jazz sighed, “We’ve got to be at work in about two hours.”

“You say it like you don’t want to.”

“I’m shattered.” She chuckled, “Got a run this afternoon on a drug case, took us about six hours to get it cleared up, so I got about an hour’s sleep.”

“The life of Torchwood.”

“Hell yeah, wouldn’t want it any other way.” She laughed, “Oh Gods, I’m buzzed now. I actually can’t wait to go to work. No, that's a lie, I can't wait to get home.”

“Oh shit, she’s mood swinging!” Jack backed away from the camera in mock horror and made the sign of the cross with his fingers, “Get her away.”

“At least she’s not as bad as Gwen with her mood swings. Just mothers us to death.”

“I would really hate to see you pregnant.” Jack laughed, “You’re a proper nester, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am, and even snugglier than I am normally.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Remind me not to get you pregnant.” John chuckled, “Wow, that was redundant.”

“Just a little.” She chuckled, “And I think it’s the coffee more than the hormones. Possibly.”

A claxon blared suddenly and the men in the kitchen in Cardiff moved rapidly, “Zee, we’ve got a spike, can you co ordinate from over there?”

“Sure thing.” She grabbed her mug and ate the last mouthful of her pancake, then practically ran down the corridor to her study. Greg and Nick exchanged bemused glances but followed her, “North end of Bute Terrace, of course. Hey guys, have a seat, watch and learn. No biological readings, big energy signatures though.”

“Great. Radiation?”

“Uh, yes. What sort though I couldn’t tell you. I’d need Tosh’s computer and it’s still too secure for me to get in from over here.”

“Shit. Is it dangerous?”

“Jaaaack, I haven’t a clue, but it’s not normal.”

“OK, I’m going in first then. You two can follow if and only if it’s safe.” Silence greeted this announcement, so Jack assumed that they agreed, even if they didn’t want to, “OK Jay, can you get the place evacuated.”

“One gas leak already sent. Andy’s on tonight, so I’ve tipped him the wink… Or something.”

“Cheers doll.”

“Just another day in Cardiff.” Ianto’s voice was brittle and silence fell on the team for a long time

Nick caught Greg’s hand and held it tightly, wondering for the first time what sort of life they’d got caught up in.

Jasmine parked the car outside a smart, detached three-storey house about ten minutes from the crime lab and the five of them got out, trailing up the stairs to the front door. Archie and Hodges led the way down the hall, gossiping lightly about a case whilst Jasmine ducked into the kitchen with a bright laugh. Nick and Greg followed Archie and Hodges into the living room and looked around in interest and slight surprise at the way the two lab rats flopped down automatically into two armchairs across from each other. The CSIs settled onto the sofa and Nick hesitated barely a moment before pulling Greg in to rest close against his side. His lab rat turned CSI boyfriend looked surprised but pleased and snuggled against him, resting a hand on his chest lightly, “We out now then?”

“Mmhm.” He hummed against the bleached blond hair with a smile, “You won’t say anything at work, will you guys?”

Archie shook his head, “Anything that gets said in here stays in here, it’s called a safe house for a reason.”

Hodges waved a hand around with a smile much warmer and friendlier than he’d ever shown in the crime lab, “Welcome to UNIT safe house 376. UNIT have another six in the city, Liberty Towers have six, that right Jay?”

“Other way around.” Her voice drifted through from the kitchen, closely followed by her person carrying bowls of chocolate mousse, “UNIT have six Vegas safe houses, LT have seven. I work for both, kinda, it’s complicated. I’m using this one because it’s closest to the crime lab and it was already set up as an operations hub rather than a safe house.”

“We use it quite a lot for cover-ups.” Archie explained, “And for somewhere close to crash when we’ve pulled a double or triple shift. It’s classified as operational. There are four classes, like volcanoes: Retired houses are out of use either temporarily or permanently, sleeper houses are ready for use but not actually in active use, active houses are being used as accommodation for agents or as safe houses or witnesses and the like, and operational houses are being used by agents instead of a permanent base in the city.”

“There’s so much we don’t know.” Greg commented, “How did you two get into all this?”

Hodges smiled, “I left my ex-girlfriend. That was the point when I found out that the fact her hours were so strange, even compared to mine, was because she was secretly running a top secret alien hunting organisation and could pull one on me and get me installed as a groundwork agent.” He chuckled, “If I’d known when I was going out with her, who knows where we’d be now? I wouldn’t be here I suspect.”

“Regret it?” Jazz asked

“Not really. You said she was your granddaughter?”

“Great granddaughter.” She corrected him, “Yeah, my youngest daughter’s granddaughter. I’m older than I look.”

“No kidding.” Nick gaped at her, “How old were you?”

“No idea, but early thirties I suspect. I’m immortal, completely immortal, if I die I bounce back, so when I ended up in the 1920s and lived through… Well it wasn’t much of a challenge. The hard part was having seven children, only two of whom survived the Second World War.”

“That’s terrible.”

She nodded sadly, “But it’s a long time ago now, they’d all be dead by now anyway. Doesn’t stop it hurting, but it makes it more bearable. I’ve lived a long time, lost a lot of people I love. I’ll lose a lot more in the years to come.” She shrugged, “It doesn’t get easier exactly, but you learn to cope. Anyway, how about you Archie, how did you get into it?”

“Hacking.” He answered with a shrug, “I looked at some files I shouldn’t have. Half an hour later there’s these goons on my doorstep telling me that I can find out more about what I saw and help them or forget everything. I’ve never once looked back.”

Jazz laughed at that, “I hear you. Torchwood’s been in operation for over 140 years, and in all that time only one person has retired or left voluntarily. And she was pregnant at the time. It’s… Phew, it’s not a life you could ever turn your back on.”

“You sound like you really love it.” Nick commented

“Yeah, even after so long. But my introduction was better than most I suppose. I was wounded by an alien attack, would have died without medical attention, and I was rescued by an angel, the most gorgeous guy the universe has ever seen.” Her smile grew positively dreamy, “We were together for nearly two years, until we died and got brought back from the dead separately. Neither knew that the other had returned, so we went on alone. That was the moment we became immortal too.”

“Did you find him again?”

“Eventually, but it wasn’t the same.” She levered herself up as the doorbell rang and returned with a short, wiry man in full military dress, “Colonel Mayflower, this is David Hodges, Archie Johnson, Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes. Gentlemen, Colonel Mayflower of Liberty Towers. Glad you could join us Colonel.”

He saluted her and shook her hand, “Commander, it’s an honour to meet you at last, thank you so much for coming to help us.”

“It’s a pleasure, I’m sure you know how much I love to get out and meet people. Even if it does involve Weevils.” She shrugged and gestured down the hall, “Shall we decant to the dining room? I’ve got us set up for the conference in there, and I hope Captain Harkness will be waiting.”

The Colonel groaned whilst the others looked somewhere between interested and curious, which was a clear indication that he was the only one apart from Jazz who had had any dealing with the garrulous and flirtatious captain. “Will he be dressed?”

“Oh, you’ve met him.” She grinned broadly.

Captain Jack Harkness smiled and accepted the cup of coffee gratefully, brushing his fingers gently across the back of his fiancé’s hand as he did so. He arched an eyebrow in happy surprise when Ianto pushed his leg down from where it had been crossed over his knee and curled into his now level lap, wrapping strong arms loosely around his shoulders and tucking his head in against the crook of his neck, “We’re off duty, are we?”

“Yep. I don’t think ‘Commander Donovan’ will complain, do you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jack turned his head and kissed Ianto’s temple gently, putting his arms around the younger man and pulling him closer, lacing his fingers together and resting them on Ianto’s hip, “She’ll have sent us, and Gwen, the screen captures by the time we wake up.”

“Hmm, I look forwards to photos of us canoodling being pasted around the Hub for all to see yet again… “ He chuckled, “Which will inevitably happen, especially if I fall asleep here. And I find that I actually do look forwards to it.”

“If you’re tired you can head down and get some sleep, I can handle Jazzy.” Jack stroked his hip, not wanting the younger man to move, but knowing that he really should

“Why would I want to move? I’m warm, comfy and happy; and going nowhere without you.”

“Torchwood 3 are officially off duty I take it?” The screen activated and they were greeted by the sight of a grinning Jasmine holding a remote and adjusting her camera, “Tell me when you’ve got the best view.”

“I can see you babe.” Jack laughed, “That’s good enough for me.”

“Yes, Captain, but there’s another five people in the room with me, and we can all see both of you.”

Ianto stiffened for a minute but relaxed and snuggled further into Jack’s warm embrace, “Yeah, well you can all be jealous then, can’t you?”

“Well at least he’s dressed this time.” The Colonel’s mutter could be heard quite clearly, as could Jack’s answering bellow of laughter as the whole of the team in Vegas came into view.

“Don’t give him ideas.” Ianto muttered into Jack’s chest with a smile, playing gently with his hair, “Commander, good to see you again.”

“Likewise Ianto. How did the rift storm containment go?”

He smiled and nodded, looking more towards the camera so that he could also see the feed from Vegas properly, “Smooth as you like, nothing dangerous. Fairly boring really, but it’s kept us up for a while.”

“God, I’m sorry.” She clearly was, “I won’t keep you long if you’ve had a long one, let’s get on with it then.”

“Not to worry Jay, but you owe us one, OK?” He chuckled, “So what have you got over there?”

She smiled and nodded, “You got it sweetie. What we’ve got is a weevil, first indications were correct.”

Jack whistled and sat up slightly, pulling Ianto up to rest more comfortably against him and giving the younger man chance to slip his arms down further, “That’s… not what you expect to find in Vegas. How long’s it been there?”

“No way of knowing really.” She pointed out, “But it’s killed two people in the last couple of days and none before, so I’m assuming not long.”

Nick glanced at her, “How do you know?”

“We’d have known about it sooner if it had been here longer, trust me.” She turned back to the camera, “Problem is, there’s no way for it to have got here that recently.”

"No rift activity in Vegas then?” Jack asked thoughtfully.

“Nothing since the big kerplooey.”

“I’m sorry, kerplooey?” Ianto chuckled

“Yeah, you know, when you opened the rift and the whole world sort of collopsed.”

“You know Zee, sometimes I haven’t a clue what you’re smoking, but whatever it is I want some.”

“John!” She bolted upwards and grinned in clear delight, “Heya baby, what are you doing in Cardiff?”

“Came across to help out with the storm, and I was getting lonely without you in London.”

“Aww, I miss you too.” She blew him a kiss, “I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“I look forwards to it. Come on.” He prodded Ianto and Jack in turn and gestured vaguely at them, “Bed you two, I’ll deal with this. Ianto’s shattered and won’t go anywhere without you Jack.”

“I’m OK.” The Welshman insisted, “And I’m sure Jay will let me off if I nod off.”

“I might, then again I might get your superior officer to discipline you for your… something. I’m sure neither of you will complain. Can we concentrate on aliens for once?”

“I’m concentrating on an alien.” Ianto’s chuckle was muffled but easy to hear, “But anyway, what’s a Weevil doing in Vegas?”

“Apart from killing people you mean?” Jazz leaned back, “I’ve sent you the files, it would appear that we have a Weevil trapped above the surface. We’ve had two murders in the same area of town, the first one shortly after the sewers were opened for maintenance work. When I looked there were signs that something clawed had tried to get through the grate.”

“Might it have found its way back down there?” Jack asked

“Possibly, but we’ve no way of knowing really.” She sighed, “We’ve just got to wait for more evidence.”

“More murders?” Greg asked and groaned when she nodded heavily, “I hate it when that happens.”

“Me too.” She shrugged, “I’ll have a poke around down there when I come off shift tomorrow, but I doubt I’ll find anything.”

“We’ll be ready to come over if you need us.” Jack offered, “And we’ll have a look to see if any of our Weevils has gone missing.”

“Thanks Jack, and I’ll pull some strings for you. Mind you, I suspect I’m probably the only string that needs pulling anyway.”

“Thanks doll, keep us posted?”

“Always, thank you Jack.”

“Anytime, but preferably not this late at night again.”

She laughed and terminated the connection, turning to the team gathered around her again, “So anyone got any questions?”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on, I’m missing something here?”

“And what’s wrong with Captain Harkness, he didn’t flirt with any of us, not once!”

Jazz laughed brightly, “The second one’s easy, he’s totally loved up and adorably cute about Ianto. And very tired, I don’t think they’ve slept in about 36, maybe 48 hours or even more.” She puffed out her cheeks, “And as for the first one… Weevils are native to we’re not sure where, but relatively native to Cardiff by now. We get them all the time over there, that’s why it’s Jack’s team standing by to respond, not one of yours Colonel. You don’t have the same experience that they do. As for what it’s doing in Vegas; that remains a mystery. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing much we can do until we locate it and I can contain it and return it to Cardiff, where it should hopefully become less violent.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Archie asked

“Monitor, the usual. Keep your eyes peeled for all the usual suspects, plus reports of youths in Halloween masks, things like that. They get a lot of them in Cardiff, despite the number of times Weevils have been seen, people are always prepared to believe it’s teenagers.”

“I’ll pass the report down the chain, you’ve got my number right?” The Colonel stood up and offered her his hand, “Anything you need, we’ll provide. It’s truly an honour to have you back in the country Commander.”

“Like I said, it’s a pleasure to be back, pass on my love to Lou.” She grinned, “Sorry, General Colton.”

“I will do so. Gentlemen.” He saluted casually and left them to it.

Archie and Hodges stood too, “Want a lift Arch?”

“Thanks mate, see you two tomorrow.” They waved and also disappeared, leaving the two CSIs alone with Jasmine.

She looked them over fondly and smiled, “If you two want to crash here you’re welcome to. It’s a safe house, there’s plenty of room and clean clothes and stuff, and you look bushed.”

Nick considered it, he could either go back alone to his empty flat and bed and know that Greg was doing the same, or stay here and have a perfectly valid excuse for doing so. And yes, there were enough rooms for them both, but why make work when they could just share? “I think I’ll take you up on the offer Jay.”

“Me too.” Greg agreed, “I wouldn’t like to try driving like this. Besides, my car’s at the crime lab.”

“And when you go in you can say that you crashed at mine.” She grinned, “I’ll make you a room up.”

As she breezed out of the room their eyes met and they smiled, “Takes some of the fun out of sneaking in together when she’s trying to persuade us into it.”

Greg chuckled and leaned across hesitantly, smiling when the Texan met him halfway, “Still looking forwards to it. I quite like alien hunting so far.”

“It certainly has its perks.” Nick kissed him again and pulled back, lacing their fingers together evidently deep in thought, “So does living in the UK apparently.”

“Ah, you were thinking the same as me. They looked happy.”

Jasmine cleared her throat from the doorway and smiled at them, her arms wrapped around a cushion, “They are happy, really happy. It’s adorable.”

“Are you always this mushy?” Nick asked, highly amused

She shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m a woman so I mood swing all over the place, but probably.” The cushion was hugged tighter and she grimaced, “And yeah, I’m particularly bad at the moment. Give me half an hour and I’ll be right as rain.”

“You flash on and off like that?” She nodded sadly at Nick’s question but said nothing, “My youngest sister was like that, my eldest sister was a constant moody cow, but that didn’t change when she was off, so we didn’t really notice.”

She laughed at that and beckoned them through to the living room, “Want a drink?”

“One maybe.” Nick smiled across at her, “Then we should turn in.”

She passed them their drinks and settled into an armchair, dropping the cushion on the floor as she did so, “Welcome to the family then guys. Here’s to friendship, aliens and saving the world.”

Jazz tapped her comms as she strode into the building, looking around her and grinning over her shoulder at the two CSIs, “Archie, how are we set?”

She stopped and span round to blow a kiss at the security camera, then laughed, “OK, so do you want me to use the signal catcher or can you deal with it?”

A flick and her hair bounced over her shoulder lightly; with the crops and crop top she was wearing all she needed was a pout and gum to be a complete valley girl, albeit a valley girl with a gun. “My best friend used to be a boy scout, he makes sure that I always carry protection.” She laughed loudly again and waved at the camera before setting off again with Nick and Greg trailing behind her in mild confusion, “Oh you have no idea how naughty I can be, and you’ve never met Jack. Yeah, I like my men dirty.” She glanced at a sign and turned left, “You set then? OK, we’ll be there shortly.”

Doc Robbins and David Hodges met them outside autopsy fully clad in biohazard suits. Hodges saluted Jasmine smartly and positively glowed when she returned it, “Commander, I’ve alerted Doctor Robbins to the potential biohazard.”

“We should evacuate the building.” The doctor insisted, “Hey, you can’t go in there! Not without the proper protection and clearance.”

She shrugged with a chuckle and pushed the door open, “Clearances don’t come much clearer than mine. Besides, the biohazard is merely a convenient lie, easier than flashing security clearances around and generally getting up people’s noses. Well done David.”

He smirked but quailed in Doc Robbins’s glare, “You were covering something up?” He demanded angrily as he saw Grissom approaching, “What right do you have? It’s our job to find the truth, not hide it.”

The lab rat cast a despairing glance in Jasmine’s direction and ploughed on, “This is my other job, the one I don’t get a say in or paid for.”

The commander shook her head, “The warm fuzzies of helping to save the world should be payment enough, and it serves you right for pissing off the head of such a powerful organisation. I’m sorry Doctor Robbins, Doctor Grissom, you can’t even see this body. Not until I’ve cleared it at least.”

“We usually say victim.” Doc Robbins bristled, “That man could have wife, children.”

“Husband even, parents, friends.” She closed the door and leaned on it, “Doctor, I’ve seen more dead bodies than you have, I’ve buried both my parents and my sister, lovers, friends and enemies. The only way I can deal with it is by believing that that body is merely that, a body.”

“Who are you?”

Gil, who had watched a large part of the exchange raised a claming hand, “Doctor, Commander Donovan raises a lot of questions that legally she cannot answer. Her credentials are excellent and she comes highly recommended. We owe her a great debt of gratitude I understand, but for the moment we’re just going to have to trust her.”

She inclined her head gratefully, “Thank you Doctor Grissom, but you’ve been checking up on me?”

“Naturally.”

She laughed, “Jolly good. Now I’m afraid I have to perform an autopsy, a closed one. David, do you want to assist?”

“Me?” He looked astonished

“You are David, aren’t you? Greg, Nick, you want to watch?”

“How come they can but we can’t?” Grissom asked

“They have the right sort of security clearances, and high enough. I’m sorry, I can’t discuss it.” She turned to Hodges to signal the end of discussion, “David, this will smell, just so you know.”

She pushed the door open and slid through it, leaving the others to go around to the observation bay, leave or follow her. Hodges walked in with a smirk, which disappeared as soon as the rancid, acidic smell hit him, “Shit.”

“Correct.” The commander was already studying the corpse with a penlight as she pulled the signal catcher from her bag again and placed it on the table, “Just let me get this set up.” She played with the setting for a moment or two and straightened up, passing an earpiece to David before slipping out to give two more to Greg and Nick. When she returned she activated it and checked that they were all working properly, then seemed to address thin air, “And finally, Archie, do you read me?”

The techie’s voice came over the comms system, “Loud and clear boss.”

“Good, are we secure?”

“Completely, I’ve diverted the feed to your home office like you said.”

“Nice one. H’okay.” She breathed out and gestured to the body on the slab, “Weevil victim, and this is the normal smell for one. Weevils are copraphagic, they live in the sewers and eat… well I guess you can imagine. I’d rather be out there where you two are.” She grinned at the wall that concealed Greg and Nick, alone in the monitoring room

Nick’s voice reached her over the comms, “You do realise that this is all highly illegal?”

She shrugged, “It’ll never go to court, we’re not that complicated, so illegality doesn’t really matter.”

“But what do you tell their parents, lovers?”

“What do you think we tell them? That an alien that doesn’t belong here ripped his throat out because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?” She shook her head, “We lie because we can’t tell the truth, so it’ll be covered up by Liberty Towers. I’m here on their turf, I’ll play it their way.”

“I used to go out with the head of Liberty Towers.” Hodges commented

“I’m aware of this, she’s my great granddaughter. Never underestimate a Curbishley David, it’s not a wise career move.”

“Your great granddaughter?” Greg asked in shock, “You can’t have grandchildren, you’re not even old enough to have children.”

She laughed as she studied the neck wounds closely, “I’m considerably older than I look, I’ll explain it all at my place later. We’re having a briefing there with Colonel Mayflower of Liberty Towers, keep him up to date, and conference calling with Cardiff, which will be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Well the last time I did a conference call with Captain Harkness he was naked and I don’t think Ianto had many more clothes on, judging by the way he refused to stand in front of the camera. Silly boy, not like I’ve not seen it all before. Anyway… This guy was definitely killed by a Weevil. I would say, judging by the size of the injuries, that it’s probably the same one, but no way of knowing until I check the DNA, which I’ll have to do at home.” She quickly set up a projected keyboard on a desk and rattled away at the non-existent keys, “You getting that through there Archie?”

“Yup, you want it in the same place?”

“Yeah, there’s a report started on my main computer at home, just bung it in there.” There was silence for a moment before Archie’s voice returned, informing her that they were set. She sighed, “OK, let’s get started.”

Jasmine placed her hands on top of a couple of photos and moved them around to try and make them make more sense, hoping that a new arrangement would show something. Greg and Nick watched her in silence as she muttered to herself and flicked back and forth from her computer, accessing files and sending messages pinging backwards and forwards across the world, “There was evidence of sexual activity, any DNA?”

The Californian blinked as he realised that her amused, glittering blue gaze was levelled at him and probably had been for some time. He shook his head, “No, they must have used protection. Some foreign DNA, but nothing that she couldn’t have picked up just form being in that alley.”

She laughed mirthlessly and touched the only photo of Ellen Carillo they had that was taken before her violent death. She was young and beautiful, so alive as she laughed in bright Miami sunshine whilst on holiday. “Practice safe sex, then get ripped to shreds by a Weevil. Just goes to show, live for today in case you don’t have tomorrow.”

“You keep saying that, ‘weevil’, but what is it? What killed her?” Nick asked, his gut churning as his mind filled with her words.

Jazz pulled yet another computer screen towards herself, her eyes dancing between the various readouts from the other monitors whilst she keyed in a few commands, “Weevils are aliens, a species that’s really common in Cardiff. We don’t know where they come from, apart from an approximate galactic co-ordinate we managed to pull once, all we really know is that they come through the Rift now and again, and have been breeding in Cardiff since the Rift first became active back in 1869. There are hundreds of them over there, Cardiff’s best kept secret, thanks entirely to Torchwood of course.”

“Who are Torchwood?” Greg asked

“We’re alien hunters, a UK only operation.” She chuckled, “Well mostly, but I have some specialised skills so I spread myself around a bit more, lot more… We’re based around the UK in London, Cardiff, Glasgow and… Yeah, and somewhere else, we’ll find it eventually.”

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t look up, but a slow grin spread across her face, “Torchwood 4 went missing during the 1960s, haven’t been seen since what appears to have been a spectacular drug high during a music festival in Yorkshire at which there was quite a lot of weirdness going on. They were the mobile branch, zipping around the UK to anywhere they were needed, but when they were still looking for them UNIT was founded, so we left them to it really.”

“You don’t sound very worried.”

“Before my time.” She waved a hand in the air, “Long before my time, and they’re professionals. Nothing I can do about it really.”

“So,” Nick folded his arms, his incredulity evident in his tone and posture, “You’re like the Men in Black?”

She glared at him, “Almost, except we have a clue and give a damn.”

“You mean,” Greg sent a meaning-loaded glance in Nick’s direction, telling him to calm down, “the Men in Black are real?”

Jazz now leaned back against a desk and hopped up onto it, sitting and swinging her legs as she watched the scans running with a scowl, “Sadly, that is the case. Run by the government, so completely useless.”

“And you’re better are you?”

“Nicky.” Greg muttered in a warning tone, shifting closer to him under the pretence of studying a scan that was running behind the Texan.

Jasmine didn’t appear to have noticed, “Hell yeah, like I said, we have a clue and will employ anyone who has the right credentials. Male, female, gay straight, alien or human. And we don’t have a no dating in the office rule, which makes life considerably more entertaining for those of us who work there. My boyfriend works for me in London, my best friends are having a civil ceremony in two months, Jack is Ianto’s boss.”

“Ianto’s a man’s name…” Greg almost asked

“That is correct. So is Jack.”

“They’re gay…”

“You’re sharp, aren’t you? Yes, or no. Jack wouldn’t limit himself to simple labels like that, Ianto… Oh God I don’t pretend to know what’s running through that boy’s mind sometimes.” She laughed, “I don’t think he does. But seriously, sometimes the stationary cupboard gets more action than the desks… I mean, they spend more time in the…” She glared at them, “You know what I mean.”

“Yes.” Nick’s jaw and fists had clenched, and he glanced over his shoulder nervously to check that the door was closed, “How did you know?”

“Know what?” She raised her eyebrows, “Oh, that. I don’t know anything for certain really, just a guess. But I’ve had my suspicions since I saw you in the alley together.”

“There’s a no dating in the office rule here, if anyone knew, we’d be split up and put on different shifts. We see little enough of each other as it is.” Greg explained quietly

She nodded in understanding, “Hence why we’re better, I’ll keep my lip buttoned. Plus, we really do have a clue. Over here you have two agencies, the mib, who are truly hopeless and we like to bitch about, and Liberty Towers, who are better in every way. They answer only to the head of the military.” She pulled a face, “And then only when they feel like it.”

“How many agencies are there?” Greg asked in wonder

“Dozens. UNIT are worldwide, you’ve got two official ones here, we’ve got one… Plus most countries have unofficial ones and a lot have official ones. You should see the Christmas party, it’s wild.”

“So, how often do aliens come to Earth, you’re talking like it’s almost an everyday thing for you.” Nick asked, thinking back to the day the Earth had almost been destroyed by Daleks. Terror attack it was not.

She met his eyes steadily and seriously, “Yes I am.”

“For how long?”

Jazz sighed, “First alien contact was in prehistoric times, quite a lot of it but not by today’s standards. Both Queen Elizabeths have met them, Charles Dickens, Queen Victoria founded Torchwood after meeting the same alien, lovely guy, called the Doctor. Absolute hero, saved the world on so many occasions.” She chuckled, “Actually, every monarch since Vicky has met an alien, although very few of them knew he was one.”

“The same one?”

“Yeah.”

“How could they not know?” Greg asked, glancing at the autopsy photos and thinking of every sci-fi movie he’d ever seen.

“Not all aliens look alien, and he’s actually human, but born on another planet so technically an alien.” She swung a screen around to show them and minimised a couple of scans so that they could see her desktop background. “That’s him, second from the right, his fiancé’s on his right, my boyfriend’s on his left, also an alien, and I’m sure you can recognise me.” She chuckled, “Two aliens, a Welshman and a girl of negotiable nationality and about as mentally screwed up as they get.” Her grin was thrilling, “Do I fill you with confidence?”

“No.” Nick stated, “Are they dangerous?”

“Yes.” She raised an annoyed eyebrow, “We’re all professional, trained killers, of course we’re dangerous.”

“Are any aliens safe?” Greg asked, glancing back at the photos

She glared at him and folded her arms, “Are all humans dangerous?” He looked down to his feet; “You can’t tar them all with the same brush. Jack has spent most of his life fighting to protect this planet, he would do anything to protect Ianto, and actually they’re rather adorable. I went out with him for a year or so, and he was the most charming, wonderful man I’d ever had the fortune to meet. But get him in to work, he’s all professional and shoots first, asks questions later. Yes he’s dangerous, he trained in a warfare situation. But so am I, probably more dangerous because I’m a slight, blonde teenager with a black belt in most martial arts and three knives and a gun concealed around my person.”

Nick folded his arms, “So how dangerous are you?”

“Very if you annoy me, or threaten the things I love. Do you realise how protective you are of him?”

“Stop it.” He growled

“And there you go again. Now,” she whirled the screen around and pulled a file up on the projector, “Weevils! That’s a Weevil.”

“That’s ugly.” Greg commented, slightly nervous

“Yeah. And vicious. All teeth and claws and killing instinct. And possibly a high level of psychic connection, and a strong community, and we haven’t really got a clue if I’m honest. The chief researcher into Weevil behaviour, by which I mean the guy who spent hours watching the only permanently captive one in an attempt to escape the irate archivist and his paperwork, died in… in the terrorist attacks in Cardiff. And he really wasn’t good at paperwork, we only have what he told us and what he wrote down whilst hung over.” There was a sad smile in her eyes as she thought about him

“You knew him?”

“Yeah, he was one of Jack’s team. I spent a lot of time with them in Cardiff.” She sighed, “They lost two that day, out of a team of five.”

“That’s gotta hurt.”

“Yeah, it did.” Her hair bounced as she shook her head, “But anyway, yeah, he never really wrote any of his findings down as such, not legibly. But you know what we’re looking for.”

”And how do we find it?”

She sighed and leaned on her knuckles against the work surface, “Wait for another death, there’s nothing else we can do. We need to find out if it’s stayed in the same area, if it’s gone to ground. If there’s more than one.” She uncurled her hands and tapped her fingers rhythmically, “So many variables to worry about.”

“What’s it doing here?”

“No idea.” She admitted with a wry smile, “There’s this rift in time and space that runs through the middle of Cardiff, and the Weevils come through it, they’re sort of picked up and dropped. The problem is that the operative word is Cardiff. Speaking of which…” She was a sudden whirlwind of activity, shifting active screens around flicking from one screen to another, swivelling monitors and keyboards for better access, “Rift storm across the pond, so I can’t get their help, let’s just see.” For a moment there was an image of a brick and chrome room filled with computers and tables, “Nope, Hub’s empty, damn. But…” She flicked to another monitor and shook her head, “No, no rift activity in Vegas since the rift was fully open, when you got a squad of small purple hedgehogs… Amongst other things. A bit of residual energy in places, but not the rift places and not enough to bring a Weevil through. Not enough to bring a small purple hedgehog through in fact. Unless it’s been there all along…”

“What’s a rift storm?”

“A burst of rift activity, several positive spikes happening in a short space of time. Really stretches their resources if it’s a big one. They’ve only been happening really since the Daleks…”

“Pardon?” They both turned to follow her progress as she bounced around the room to another computer.

“It’s complicated, and I don’t really understand it. Just accept that it does it.”

“Does what?”

“Positive spikes pick things up from somewhere else and leave them here, negative ones pick them up form here and leave them somewhere else.”

“Like tides.” Greg commented

“Possibly.”

“You fill us with confidence.” Nick growled

“Hey, we do our jobs, even if we don’t know how we’re doing it. We’ve stopped cybermen, small purple hedgehogs, the daleks…”

“You stopped the Daleks?”

She seemed to deflate slightly and gained a soft smile, “My friends did, I was stuck on Earth. I always seem to be the one left behind.”

“I’m sure you played your part.”

She smiled at Greg sadly, “I hope so, but I’ve got a damned good team.”

The door opened and a head poked around it, with Catherine waving a folder at them, “Doc Robbins has another body for you, Hodges says there’s something up your street about it, you must be the new girl?”

She nodded and smiled, “Jasmine Donovan, nice to meet you.”

“Willows, Catherine Willows. What’s your speciality?”

“We’re got a European link, you may have noticed I’m not a local.” She smiled and shook the woman’s extended hand, “We’ve had cases like this over the pond, surprised it’s got over here if I’m honest.”

“Cases?” Catherine looked confused, “I thought it was an animal

“Yeah, but it’s… I can’t say much, my boss would eat me alive.”

“Tough boss?” Catherine raised an eyebrow

“Nightmare, my ex.”

“And hence the no dating in the workplace rule.” She waved, “You’d better get over there.”

Jazz picked up some files and flicked on scans and turned off the screens, locking them against intrusion, then realised that the two men were staring at her, “You lied, you said you were the leader.” Greg stated

“I am, but I only have security clearances for you two, Archie and Hodges, they’ve been in on it for years. Look.” She held her hand up, “I can’t explain now, not here, we have to go. And this room is the only safe one because I’ve got a CCTV broadcast catcher. I’ve got another in my house, we’ll all meet up there this evening and I’ll explain it fully, I’m sorry but it has to be completely secure.”

“Commander.” Nick acknowledged her words grimly

“It’s Jay, you two have earned it.” She smiled and headed out of the door

Author's Note: Welcome to a CSI/Torchwood crossover, where madness will happen in Vegas, Cardiff and London. I'm just not sure what yet...

I do not own Torchwood or CSI. I do, however, own Jasmine, who rocks a fantastic 137 on the Mary Sue litmus test, for which I apologise and I hope she's not too bad

There will be gay men. I just don't know how many (How come as a bi woman I tend to write about gay men, not lesbians or hetero couples?)

For Candybree, Rainbow Stripes and hotflower901, who were so lovely all the way through Late Night Loss

Gilbert Grisson looked through the report on his desk, the photos from the crime scene and the autopsy painting a gruesome and disturbing picture of an attack without any apparent perpetrator. The DNA wasn’t human, or any animal that they could identify, and the wounds, the bite marks… It was like a tiger, or some other vicious carnivore.

His computer ‘pinged’ and he looked up at the screen where a message was flashing at him. No, it was on Microsoft Word, and someone was sending a message in italics.

Dr Grissom?
Dr Grissom?
Dr Grissom?

He stared at it for a few minutes as the message repeated itself a couple of times until the cursor moved again, drifting down to the control panel and changing to an open hand, which waved at him enthusiastically. It was a completely random pattern, but with a definite rotary motion; he grabbed the mouse and found that he could control the cursor as another message appeared below the first.

Finally! I thought you might have gone to sleep there. Or into a trance. Is your screen magic?

He flexed his fingers over the keyboard and, finally, typed:

How are you doing that?

The hand highlighted what he’d just written and de-italicised it, then set italics back on so that the other person could write:

I r the 1337 haxor. I is in ur PC, writin in ur wrd
Sorry… I hacked your computer. And your CCTV system, so I can sees yoooo.

He shook his head and glared up at the CCTV camera in the corner of his room, feeling slightly scared now, not reassured when the message came:

Don’t worry, if I wanted to hurt you you’d know about it.

But how are you doing it?

My ace hacking skills, it’s part of the job

And what job would that be?

I have the case breaker for you

You didn’t answer my question

No. I didn’t

Do you want to know who killed her?

He looked down at the photo of a teenage girl, ripped to shreds and partly eaten by a vicious, animalistic killer. If this strange person, who could hack into government computer systems and CCTV networks, could help him, he would trust him.

Yes

So do I.

I’m requesting your permission to join your team for the duration of the investigation. You need someone on your team with the collection of security clearances, field experience and a PhD in forensic science that only I possess.

Trust me, if I could send someone else, I would.

And if I decline your request?

I’ll request your co-operation whilst my team investigate, which I really don’t want to do because two of them are planning a wedding at the moment.

If you decline that then I might tell you our findings once our investigation closes.

He looked back at the photo, considered the clearances the guy must have and made a decision

Do you want a lab preparing?

Yes please. I’ve got the equipment I’ll need though. It’s probably more… specialised than yours. More obscure.

Can some of your people meet me at the crime scene to go over the case so far?

I’ll send them out. What time?

I’ll be there in an hour.

OK. I’ll send CSI’s Sanders and Stokes.

And don’t hack my computer again, it’s not polite

;)

Grissom glared at the screen, waiting for a further reply but not expecting one. Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and he looked up into the dark, confused, chocolate-brown eyes of Greg Sanders, “Can I help you Greg?”

The bottle-blond looked down at the file in his hand but didn’t move from the doorway, “I wish someone could. This DNA doesn’t match any known species from Earth. And…” The CSI level 1 and DNA expert shuffled in annoyance and slight embarrassment, “And someone keeps hacking my computer. I’ve got Archie in it trying to track it, but he says it’s probably the Bad Wolf Virus.”

“The what?”

Greg shrugged and shook his head, “It was Archie, I thought it best not to ask.” The young man glanced over his shoulder as Nick stood very close behind him in the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “But basically, this creature is an undiscovered species, which is so impossible that you just wouldn’t believe it.”

“And the wounds don’t look like they’re from any known species either.” Nick supplied over his shoulder, “We’ve hit a total dead end Griss.”

“We have, but someone hasn’t.” He pointed at them, “Go back to the scene. I got a message from someone who believes he can help us, he’ll meet you there.”

“Who? Why didn’t you ask us first?” Nick demanded angrily

Grissom shrugged, “I don’t know, but he didn’t give me a say in the matter. You’d better get going, you don’t want him to be there first.”

The two men glanced at each other and moved away, knowing there was nothing they could say about the matter and heading for the locker room to grab their stuff.

Greg shut the door and checked they were alone, “If you keep standing so close behind me like that…”

“People will think you have to stop standing in doorways.” Nick finished for him, brushing his shoulder and just touching his neck reassuringly, squeezing it in a friendly manner when Catherine pushed the door open, “It’ll be fine, let’s get going.”

“What, where are you two off to?” The woman asked as she pulled things from her locker

“Griss thinks he’s got a lead on the Ellen Carrillo case. He’s meeting us at the scene, the lead that is.” Nick pulled his gun out and clipped it on, seeing Greg do the same

“What, your lead’s a guy?”

“As far as we know. Could be anyone really. Griss got a message through his computer, probably the same person hacked my computer and…” Greg blushed

“What?”

“Well I was playing solitaire whilst I waited for the DNA results and he seemed to object to some of the moves I made.”

“OK, so we’ve got someone who knows about unsolvable crimes and plays solitaire on other people’s computers. Suddenly I feel reassured.” Nick griped, “Ah well, let’s see what he has to say for himself.”

Greg leaned against the wall by the crime scene tape which still kept the public out of the alleyway and looked up. You could never see the stars in Vegas, but it didn’t stop him trying. Out in the desert though, you couldn’t see anything but stars. He sighed and glanced across to where Nick stood, gazing across the street; the older man met his gaze and smiled tightly, they’d been here five minutes already and no one had shown up, but they still had ten minutes before their informant was due.

The officer on duty for the night was leaning outside the crime scene tape, eyes glazed over except when anyone came near; it was a quiet part of town, so there weren’t many people around, but the few who came by tended to move on after a cursory, curious glance. It was far too dark to see anything. A girl approached, however, and peered into the darkness, flashing a warm smile at Greg and Nick and nodding a greeting to the officer; she made to duck under the tape but he stopped her, “Where do you think you’re going missy?”

She grinned, “I’m with the crime lab.” He checked her ID and let her through with an apology, “Not to worry, I’m new.”

“Not from around here either.” Nick noted out loud, not that it was hard to tell from her definitely English accent, “I didn’t know anyone was joining the lab. We’re just waiting for an informant.”

“I know, I’m her.” Jazz grinned at him, eyeing his muscular frame appreciatively, “I’m also joining the crime lab, did he not mention that?”

“No, he didn’t.” He shared a glance with Greg over her head and she turned round to give the Californian an equally appraising once-over

“I hate it when information isn’t shared. My name’s Jasmine Donovan, Jazz or Jay to my friends, Zee only to my boyfriend. Commander to my employees.” She extended a hand, first to Greg, who shook it with a smile, and then to Nick, who reciprocated considerably less enthusiastically, “You’re Sanders and Stokes?”

Greg took in her slim but clearly athletic form, blonde hair tied back, eyes dancing with mischief even in the dark, clothes functional but showing off her curves, and clapped Nick on the shoulder, “I’m Greg Sanders, and this is Nicholas Stokes.” When the older man remained silent he rolled his eyes, “He does talk, eventually.”

“So I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes in reply, “Not that I’m complaining, most of my friends the problem is getting them to shut up. Again, not complaining, but they don’t half talk crap.”

Nick smiled reluctantly, “OK, scene to show you round, case to acquaint you with.” He gestured to the end of the alley, “The vic was found down there, badly mauled, like by an animal but clearly by something with human build. DNA doesn’t match a species, let alone anyone in CODIS. No one saw or heard anything, and there’s no CCTV coverage, even if it had been light enough to see.”

“Why did she come down here?” Jazz asked, bending to study a blood stain on the wall, “What would draw a girl like that into an alley like this.”

“There was signs of a struggle, and of the body bein’ dragged.” Nick pointed out

“That might explain it. Still…” She put one hand on her hip and flashed her torch around, scanning the piles of rubbish and the crates dispassionately, “When you got to the scene, what did it smell like?”

“Like shit. Worse than it does now. The sewers were open for repairs.”

She nodded sagely, “I thought they might have been. That’ll be where it came from. Where’s the sewer entrance?”

He nodded towards the street and she headed towards it, “That’ll be where what came from?”

“The thing that killed her, they’re copraphagic. It’s called a weevil.” She studied the sewer cover and her torch highlighted slight marks on the edge of the cover, “And it’s trapped outside somewhere. But what the hell is it doing in Vegas?”