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Pip and Connor's Most Excellent Adventure

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This story is No. 3 in the series "The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Squad3". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: The rift dumps Pip and Connor into the past of the Scooby and AI gangs. How will their knowledge affect the future? Who will save them? *On hiatus until I finish Cardiff Nightlife*

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Other BtVS/Ats CharactersGwirryFR1321,0430376121 Jun 1125 Jun 11No

Prologue - New Kids on the Block

Disclaimer: I own niether Torchwood or Buffy.

Illustration

A/N: This is set in the same universe as The Phoenix Academy. The "saviour" turns up next chapter.

The pretty blond girl had appeared in the middle of the cemetery while they were on patrol.

There had been swirly lights in pretty colours, and then she had been lying on one of the long tombs. She had long blond hair and big blue eyes, and there were multi-coloured streaks in her hair. There was a scar like a bite mark on her neck, and she was wearing all black. Black leather jacket – three quarter length, black levis, black knee-high Doc Martens, black tee with some kind of blue logo made up of hexagons on the centre. She was very definitely unconscious. Xander and Spike had carried her back to the Summers house, and the two of them had settled her into one of the spare rooms. Xander stayed by her as she slept, and yelp excitedly when she stirred.

“Guys! She’s waking up!”

The others stood in the doorway as she opened her eyes and looked up at Xander. She smiled, and reached up, tracing the lines around his left eye. As Buffy walked in, however, she dragged herself as far away from the blond as she could, and she shied away from Willow and Giles too. When Spike walked in, she visibly flinched, and then stared at him in wonder. Something seemed to click in her head.

“Sodding hell!” she snapped, in an accent made up of Brooklyn and Newport and London’s East End.


The boy had appeared in the lobby as they took out a group of demons with Angel’s name on their hit-list.

Gunn had protected him, and laid him out carefully on the couch after the fight was over. He was tall, with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, and dressed in black – black jacket, cut like a letter jacket, black jeans, black converses, black tee with a blue design made pout of hexagons dominating the front. As his eyelids began to flicker, Gunn called the others over. The boy had gazed in wonder at the smooth skin of Gunn’s neck, and grinned when Fred walked in. As Angel appeared, he flinched away, half-hiding behind Gunn and Fred. But when he saw Cordelia, his eyes widened and he let out a stream of Gaelic expletives that would have curled the paint off the walls (if paint could understand Gaelic, of course!).


Two teens looked into the faces of two incredibly confused gangs of white hats, and thought ‘I’ve travelled through time’.


Out loud, they said: “Brilliant.”
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