Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

Extreme Circumstances

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: A very long-shot crossover with Dark Angel in which I play merry hell with timelines and generally play around with canon.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Dark Angel > Other BtVS/AtS CharactersfeekhFR151324,70723810,0954 Jun 0721 Oct 07Yes

Chapter One

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine, everything you don't is. Crossover with Dark Angel.
A/N: I know, I know that I should be working on the next chapter of Furyans, or the next chapter of Xander Saotome, or maybe all my other unfinished stuff. But this thing just kept niggling at me to the point where I can not write anything else, which is beyong annoying. And I thought since I was stuck writing the damn thing, I might as well post it. Then you kind readers can tell me what you think and if my characters are ...well in character.

Long crossover, point of view is from the Dark Angel crew, and doesn't switch for some time. The main Buffy character is beloved by many, but only peripherally part of the Scoobie team. It is AU for the Dark Angel verse. I hope the changes are recognisable without me having to put up signposts. Nothing irritates me more than people who have a list of changes in the author’s note. Puts me right out of the story. If it is not obvious what I have changed then I am not doing my job properly. Just go with it and hopefully I will answer all questions, except of course those I mean to leave open.

Oh and there is a reference in here of a third show that is for my beta. She is a rabid fan, so I thought I would make her day in a big way.

Last word of warning, the crossover itself does not happen until the second chapter and then it is brief. Sort of slowly becomes more.





Extreme Circumstances



The soldier marched into the debriefing room, eyes carefully trained into the middle distance. A casual observer would be hard pressed to read his blank expression. Coming to a halt he snapped off a picture perfect salute to the man sitting behind the desk.

His superior officer cast a proud, almost paternal, glance over him, subtly checking for any visible injuries, while marvelling once more how well this experiment was working. Far surpassing all expectations the brains behind the scheme might have had, maybe it was time to lay the word ’experiment’ to rest once and for all.

Not for the first time he thanked anybody who might be listening that compassionate common sense had prevailed over the hard-headed military minds clamouring for complete control. Treating these transgenic soldiers, the end result of decades of military R&D, as dumb genetic abnormalities would have been a waste of the intelligence and talents they had so painstakingly spliced into their DNA. Early on, psychiatrists, consulted at the time, had advised for providing familial patterns instead of the clinical, dispassionate environment first envisioned. Granted the training these kids had absolved would have made the hardest navy seal cry for mercy, but they had one and all passed with flying colours.

And now he had under his command several battalions of fiercely loyal soldiers. Committed to each other and the country they called home, far above mere genius in the intelligence stakes and with an almost uncanny knack for pulling off even the most harebrained schemes.

He gazed at the young man in front of him whose above average looks and quirky charm hid the mind of a military strategist on par with the Duke of Wellington and the will to do anything necessary to protect his country and those he considered his family.

“X5-494 reporting for debriefing, sir!”

The soldier’s voice snapped him back to the present and the officer allowed a small proud smile to grace his lips.

“At ease, soldier.”

494 relaxed his stance, hands loosely clasped behind his back.

“Report soldier.”

Still staring at some random point above and behind his superior officer’s head, the soldier answered.

“Minimal resistance, sir. Extraction was quick and uneventful. 511 and myself accomplished the mission within the defined parameters.” A slight smirk played on the soldier’s lips.

“So why is it that I have been getting reports about a bunch of metalheads running around Seattle like a bunch of maddened hornets looking for the and I quote ‘fifty big ass monsters’ who beat them up and had ‘we heart mum’ tattooed on their foreheads?”

“Couldn’t say, sir.” The soldier kept his face carefully blank.

“And are they likely to find these fifty big ass monsters?”

The smirk was back in full force. “I wouldn’t think so, sir.”

“Well, then. Mission successfully accomplished I see. Congratulations. The senator is most pleased to have his daughter back unharmed. 511 and you will receive commendations I should think. You could add them to your other hundred.” The last was said with only the faintest irony.

“Thank you, General Lydecker, sir.”

The General waived this off, marvelling once more at 494’s wicked sense of humour. Lydecker signed off on the report and closed the file, signalling that the official part of the meeting was over. He waved towards the more comfortable chairs set up in the corner.

“Have a seat, Alec.” Lydecker walked over to the mini-bar. “Drink?”

Alec’s eyebrow rose in surprise. Drink was a serious no-no in the army, but he made no comment.

“Scotch if you have it, sir. Thank you.”

Lydecker poured them both a generous dram, then walked over to where 494, known to friends and superiors alike as Alec, sat relaxed in an armchair.

“Sir. If I may be so bold. What’s up?”

Lydecker raised a quizzical eyebrow, waiting for the young man to continue.

“You only offer me a drink, sir, when you are trying to butter me up, sir.”

Lydecker smirked. “What gives you the idea I’m trying to butter you up?”

“Well, sir. Last time you offered me a drink I slogged through the Sahara for three days looking for a black box. Time before that was that clusterfuck down in East Timor. Then there was the time the SAS fubarred their extraction of a wanted criminal. Was shot in the ass on that one, sir. And then..”

“Enough, enough. You’ve made your point. We’ve made you way too intelligent I see.” There was no censure in his tone. Lydecker knew full well he sent Alec on the more interesting missions. He decided that maybe it would be best to lay all his cards on the table. Well most of his cards. Wouldn‘t do to play his joker this early in the game, just in case Alec played hardball.

“You’re right of course. I am trying to butter you up. After four missions back to back nobody deserves some downtime more than you. I could send somebody else. There would be a good chance of success, but you are our best and surest bet.

Alec merely nodded for him to continue. He knew this already. In an environment that made the marine training camp look like a bunch of boy scouts on a field trip, he was counted among the best of the best.

Lydecker continued: “One of our deep infiltrations went south. We lost contact with our agent. Last we heard she had some new information needing checking out. We believe she has been captured and have to extract our agent before she’s lynched or worse.”

Alec still didn’t understand why he had to go, there were countless others who could be sent in his place.

“The FBI asked for our help a couple of months ago. Young girls have been disappearing in that area for decades. They think it goes back as far as the 1870s. They never managed to pin anybody in all those years, mainly because nobody connected the dots. The kidnappings were only a couple, a decade and the physiognomies are rarely a match. A young agent made the connection and managed to convince his boss. Not an easy task I am assured. I believe you know him.”

Alec grinned. “Fox did that? Knew he had it in him.”

“Granted his theories are a little more out of this world, but the theory is sound. And that is what convinced Skinner. Anyway they were still coming up blank. Not surprising, considering these perps have had years to perfect their methods. So they kindly requested our aid. And now here we are. Intel is patchy and we lost communication yesterday. Atmospheric storm or something. The implant you all have is of course still working, so we know she is still alive, but we can’t wait. Who knows what trouble she is in. Somebody has to go there and get her out.

Alec was still confused: “Why me, sir? This is the kind of stuff we could do in kindergarden. Any one of us could do this.”

‘Time to bring out the big guns’ Lydecker thought. “I want to send you, Alec, because you’re 452’s best chance.”



~*~



Alec’s mind was on the fritz. “Come again, sir?”

“You are 452’s, Max’s, best chance of getting out of there in one piece. The only reason she is still alive is that we believe they will want to get information from her.”

Alec’s face was blank as his mind flashed through thousands of memories of soft, haughty, angry, spitting mad and laughing brown eyes. All his memories at Manticore were tied to the pintsize female who had challenged him in every discipline Manticore threw at them. Sometimes he came out on top through sheer superior strength and sometimes she did. The two of them were the pinnacle of Manticore training, nobody was better.

“I’ll do it, sir.”

Lydecker nodded, knowing that as soon as he had mentioned Max the conclusion had been foregone.

“Dismissed, soldier. Report for briefing in one hour.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

As soon as Lydecker was once again alone he mused on the fact that this latest little disaster provided the perfect scenario to finally get those two boneheads to mesh into a team. Alone they were a force to be reckoned with but if they ever became true partners nothing would stand in their way.

Added to that was the fact that the UST was putting a strain on the whole regiment.



~*~



Alec absently wandered the halls of Manticore, mind racing a mile a minute. Max had been made. X5-452 the queen of the undercover mission, who excelled at blending into any given situation, had been made.

Something was very wrong there. There was no question about it.

Max was his to save.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking