Return to crossover verse with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, taking place in an alternate Season 8. This prompt is set just after Season 8, Episode 1. Don't read if you are avoiding spoilers

Not one for small talk, are you? )


Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 828
Crossover verse with Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Quiet times in the Grid. They did happen on occasion. Lucas was sitting at his desk, reading through a couple of reports that he’d acquired, actually having time to carefully take in the full implications of them. Normally they were so busy he never got more than a glance. Miss Summers was heading back for the train station, that much was obvious, so Lucas pulled the operation, told everyone to go home. They simply didn’t have the resources for more.

He’d stood up, determined to find himself a coffee, then work through some more reports, though he didn’t hurry. They would be there when he got back, and it was nice to take things at a leisurely pace for once. He poured a coffee, and stood there for a moment, breathing in the bitter scent, imagining just what it would taste like.

His reverie was interrupted by Malcolm’s head suddenly appearing around the door frame. “Lucas? You are going to want to see this.” Lucas frowned, sensing suppressed excitement from the analyst – which was unusual in itself - but followed him back to the main area of the Grid, perching on the edge of Malcolm’s desk.

“Right. After Jo left Buffy Summers to her own devices, we thought nothing of it. However, we recorded a phone call from her to one of her known associates. Take a listen...” Malcolm pressed a button, and Buffy’s voice came over the system. “Will! Twilight. Need some witchfu. I need teleported out of here now. I'm at---. I'll go back to the bank. Meet me there and be really careful. They don't care who they hurt to get to us.

Lucas glanced at Malcolm, an eyebrow raised. “Did she just say what I think she said?” he asked, his tone incredulous.

“Yes. There’s more though. We managed to find out where she was via CCTV footage. This is interesting.” Again, he pressed a button on his keyboard, bringing up footage of a group of people converging on Buffy, all wearing suits.

“Who are they?” Lucas demanded, as Malcolm zoomed in on the way they were gathering round her. “Tell me they aren’t ours.”

“I’m getting as many faces as I can, and no I don’t think they are ours. However, whoever they are, they’re good.” The pair of them watched as Buffy took on the six of them... and was holding her own.

“Okay, how the hell is she doing that?” Lucas said, wheeling a chair over and sitting down. “That’s not possible. Unless it’s a set up to show off.”

“With that phone call? Possible, but unlikely. Keep watching.” A gun went off, the bullet grazing Buffy’s arm, but she seemed unaffected. Lucas turned to look at Malcolm.

“Okay, speaking from recent experience, that had to hurt,” he commented, then watched as she made her phone call, then ran. “That’s it?” he asked. “She managed to escape them?”

“So it seems. We caught up with her at the bank, as expected. Her friend met her then they... well, disappeared.”

“Disappeared? How?”

Malcolm brought up the footage outside the bank. Buffy’s friend appeared... then disappeared with the pair of them. Just vanished. “Some kind of technology?” Lucas surmised. “It could be why the CIA are all over us with this.”

“If it is, it’s like nothing I’ve heard of,” Malcolm said. And Malcolm would know.

Lucas sat there, staring at the screen for a moment. “She mentioned Twilight in her conversation with her friend. She also mentioned them with me. Have you found anything?”

“No,” Malcolm said, turning to look at Lucas. “But then, I’ve been treading lightly.”

“Keep digging. Something will turn up.”

“And you?”

“Me? Burn me a copy of that. I need to talk to Laurie Werner, then I think it’s time to pay Miss Summers another visit.”


Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 638
Set in crossover universe with Buffy the Vampire Slayer
[ooc: This is Lucas' beginning of an AU verse where Spooks-world runs into Buffy the Vampire Slayer-world. Purely for fun.]

“Malcolm, red-flash Lucas and Ros,” Harry said, watching the news report unfolding before them. “I want them in here ten minutes ago.”

“I'm here,” Lucas said, as soon as the door had deposited him on the Grid. “Heard the news report as I was going to bed. Figured I'd save you a phone call.”

Ros had entered the Grid right behind Lucas. “Do we have any idea of who did it?” Ros asked, striding over to the group.

“No,” Harry said, sighing. “We got the first reports about ten minutes before the media arrived. It appears someone fired a missile at, of all things, a remote castle in the deepest Highlands. Reports are that there were some people there, but thankfully no deaths.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” Lucas said, frowning. “A castle in a remote part of Scotland? Hardly an obvious terrorist target. What could they hope to gain? Any idea who was responsible?”

“Well, as far as we can tell, other than the Glasgow Airport debacle, Al-Qaeda don't know Scotland exists,” Harry said. “The Russians are more likely to take over an oil rig, claiming energy resources, and it's not exactly anything relating to Israel or Palastine. At the moment, we are going with unknown terrorists.”

“Wonderful. What do we have on the castle, Malcolm?” Ros asked.

“I've been doing some digging. Someone has been clever at hiding information. It appears to be owned outright by a group of Americans. Why do American's feel the need to buy up pieces of Scottish history just because they might have some two hundred year old affiliation with the country?” Malcolm tutted, snobbery showing.

“Malcolm, please...” Harry sighed, well used to Malcolm's diatribes.

“Sorry, yes. Owned by an American company, called 'The Chosen Industries'. I've been doing some digging, and well, finding nothing much. Any real information is buried deep, and our friends across the water aren't exactly being forthcoming.”

“Are they ever?” Ros asked, smiling slightly. “Okay, who was the target?”

“All that was there appeared to be a group of young women on some kind of retreat,” Malcolm replied. He flipped through some papers. “Around sixty to a hundred of them. Most of what has turned up at the hospital has been women.”

“No leaders, camp counsellors, that kind of thing?” Lucas asked.

Malcolm shook his head. “According to what's coming out of the local hospital, no.”

Lucas frowned. “Something's not sitting right here,” he said. “American paranoia can put us to shame, but a lack of adults at a retreat? Dig, Malcolm. Need to find out anything about the company.”

“And we need to have presence up there,” Harry said. “The media will be all over us. Some things they can take, but ruined castles in Scotland? Heaven help the tourist industry. Ros I need you on the Grid in case there is anything else happens. If there has been one attack, there may be more. Lucas, I want you to drive up there, find out what you can on the ground. Interview some of the girls, talk to the natives.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow as he looked at Harry. “Why do I get the short straw?” he asked.

“What, apart from the fact that you aren't from London? Given we are talking young women here who would you rather send, you or Malcolm?” Harry said, smiling slightly. “No offence, Malcolm.”

“None taken.”

“How long will it take you to drive up there?”

“Where is it?” Lucas asked, peering over Malcolm's shoulder. “Not far from Fort William? Ten, twelve hours?” He glanced at his watch. “I'd be better sleeping and getting the first shuttle from Gatwick in the morning, getting a car up there. Malcolm?”

Malcolm was already moving towards his desk. “I'll text through the information when I get it.”

Harry looked at Lucas. “Be careful up there. We don't know what we are up against. Two hourly reports.”

Lucas nodded. “I'll be fine. Malcolm, when you have anything.”

“The second I do.”


Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 668
Fly by the seat of your pants.

Psychological evaluation: Senior Case Officer Lucas North. )

Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 414
"I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter." - Sir Winston Churchill

Dead or alive )

Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 213

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