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halfamoondisclaimer: not mine
fandoms: St. Trinian's, Torchwood
spoilers: 2007 St. Trinian's movie, Children of Earth
length: 2600
genre: AU, humor, crossover, crack.
rating: PG13? language, the nature of CoE's dark plot.
notes: I have both Children of Earth and St. Trinian's as mp3s for listening to while at work. This, um, does rather horrendous things to my brain. There are some logistical problems (driving time) that I'm hand-waving, but, in the end, I don't think my plot holes are any worse. Any misspelled names are my own fault.
set: takes place during Day Five.
The Trouble With St. Trinian's
by ALC Punk!
In all of the bustle, Denise wasn't expecting the general to question the change she'd made to his list. Unfortunately, with mere hours to go before the deadline, he did.
"Why has St. Trinian's been crossed off this list?" General Pierce looked annoyed, as though they'd been incompetent again. Torchwood had a lot to answer for, destroying their standing with America like that.
Denise pasted a pleasantly bland look on her face. "It's St. Trinian's, sir."
As though that explained everything. If she'd been dealing with Oduya, it probably would have.
The general's frown deepened. "It's one of the targeted schools, and it goes back on."
Not quite the reaction she'd expected. Still, "I don't think you'll want to do that. Sir," she tacked the honorific on, hoping he'd get the point and drop the idea.
"You are the one who came up with this criteria, Ms. Riley." The general pointed at the crossed-off school. "I don't understand why this school would be a problem."
"St. Trinian's." Really, was she going to have to track down that report and the ruling from the Crown regarding the infamous school? She had no idea how Frobisher had even allowed it to appear on the list. The man must have been thoroughly distracted. Of course, he was a little too dead to inquire of.
"Am I to understand there's something different about this school?"
"You could say that, sir."
"Then it should have scored better. I'll have my assistant send out a detail to bus the girls there." He turned away from Denise, a clear dismissal.
He was an idiot, Denise decided. Let him learn about St. Trinian's on his own.
-=-
Sergeant Joseph Donovan had accepted his orders with a sense of unease. The idea that they were busing children for some unknown reason, when the kids had been doing weird shit bothered him more than a little. But he wasn't an officer, and questioning things had never been in his nature. Besides, if he did object, his two children would be handed over--that was more rumor than fact, but Joe had learned long ago that officers would do just about anything to ensure obedience.
As an American, he found the run-down state of St. Trinian's main building rather sad. He wondered if the place would even pass a code inspection, and made a note not to breathe too deeply inside: asbestos poisoning would cut his career short.
"May I help you?" Beverly asked, her hands were braced on the desk while she balanced on one foot. She gave Joe and the two men he'd chosen as escort a once-over, then slowly straightened, leaving both feet on the floor. "You're not here about...?"
The open-ended question didn't bother Joe. "I'm sure you've heard about the vaccinations. We're here to bus those children under eleven to the nearby facility," he told her the cover story smoothly.
"Oh. Is that about the voice thing? 'Cause, like, some of the older girls figured out the right frequencies to block yesterday, so we don't need no cure." She gave a laugh and sat back down in her chair, beaming at the men.
Joe noted the slightly dull look in her eyes, and decided she wasn't very bright. "I'm afraid it doesn't matter. We still must remove them."
"Do you now?" An older, rather frumpy woman had appeared, and Joe vaguely remembered a door to the right opening. She scowled at him, "I wonder how we were added to that little list, hrm? My girls are healthy and fit, and there's no need for this ridiculous vaccination story of yours. Why not just tell us the truth?"
"That is the truth, ma'am."
"That's Miss Fritton to you. And I'm surprised at the Ministry for allowing St. Trinian's to be cured--after our last kerfuffle, they would rather have us docile and controlled by aliens."
Aliens? The old woman was batty, obviously. "Miss Fritton--"
"You UNIT chaps are all the same. Really, please leave, we've no time for this nonsense."
"I'm afraid we can't do that. We have the authority--"
"I'm sure you think you do. Girls! Stop pointing that at this nice Corporal this instant!"
Joe opened his mouth to correct his title when something hard poked him in the back. "Don't try anything. Hands on your head, NOW, and don't move," a high-pitched female voice ordered. The audible cocking of the pistol in his back decided him. He wasn't supposed to get shot while taking children from a school.
With his hands on his head, he was turned and stripped of all weapons as well as his wallet and phone. Facing the door, he could see the two escorts were similarly held. Girls barely shoulder-height were pointing rather large shotguns.
"Out the door," the one at his back instructed, while Miss Fritton made tutting noises and told Beverly to make sure no one was killed, this time.
-=-
Annabelle was very proud of her little plan to take the soldiers that had turned up. Getting the drop on both escorts had been ridiculously simple, with both of them focused on Miss Fritton's confrontation with their CO. Shoving a shotgun into the sergeant's back had a margin for error--if he tried to fight, she wasn't sure she could actually shoot him. Punch him, sure. But shoot a man? Annabelle wasn't entirely sure she had that in her. Luckily, the men had folded like wet cards. And once outside, with their sergeant in custody, it was an easy matter to get them to toss their weapons down and back away.
"Now stand very still," she instructed, as a troop of first-years came out, clanking and staggering a bit. "They've always wanted to try these, you know."
The younger girls giggled as they went in and out of the rows of men, wrapping metal and chains around their legs until the entire platoon was chain together. It was always good to see them using their ingenuity in a way that benefited everyone.
"Do you believe there's a cure?" Annabelle asked Miss Fritton conversationally.
"Not in the least. Our government is up to something, and I suspect it's up to us to find out what. That's enough, girls, don't taunt them. It's not their fault they followed orders!"
Miss Fritton always knew things. Annabelle had gotten used to that, "So we find out what."
"Knowledge is power, my dear," Miss Fritton replied cheerfully.
-=-
"Kel, you know how I was sayin' some of the old Torchwood frequencies was active?" Tracy was one of the youngest computer geeks in the world, having been taken under Polly's wing when she washed-up at St. Trinian's. She had a penchant for hacking and a preference for tracking 'secret' government agencies. Her parents had shipped her there, hoping the boarding-school experience would shape her up.
So far, it hadn't worked.
Frowning, Kelly followed Tracy to her laptop. Downstairs, Miss Fritton and Annabelle were dealing with the army, and Kelly was proud of the way Annabelle was stepping up. Soon, she would graduate and Annabelle would take her place as head girl. If she survived the battle for the spot.
"Once I realized what it was," Tracy explained as she opened her video player and started it, "I started recording it. Sound's choppy, and the image got pixillated by interference, but..."
"...so we're agreed, then..."
Kelly sat down in the chair Tracy had vacated. "Jackpot," she murmured, wondering if she would once have been surprised at the perfidies of government.
"The plan's already started," Tracy pointed out.
"I know. We might be able to use that, later." Eyes clearing, Kelly turned to look at Polly, "You know the interference field you designed?"
"That won't help, it's not strong enough for the whole planet--the power requirements--"
"It doesn't have to be. Can you upload it to a satellite and point it at a specific target?"
Polly frowned for a moment, then shrugged, "It might work--if we had a target."
"Thames House." Kelly replied, pointing at the image of their ministers of state deciding to sacrifice millions of children.
"--and a delivery system."
"What about a satellite?" suggested Tracy.
Polly stared at her, then at Kelly, "You can't just re-task a satellite and point it at Thames House."
"Sure you can. I have faith in you." With a slight smile, Kelly stood. "Tracy, make sure we have as much of that footage as possible. I think I should go organize a school trip."
With a sigh, Polly took her vacated seat. "Daisy, d'you still have that back-door into the NASA systems?"
"Yup."
Kelly smiled even wider as she headed to the stairs. She'd known she could have faith in her geeks.
-=-
The problem with tasking a satellite was two-fold: finding one that would be in the correct orbit at the right time, and finding one with the capacity to broadcast at that range. Polly narrowed her eyes as she scanned the NASA list, comparing it to the one she'd had Tracy pull from a few other sources.
"I think we've got two, maybe three possibles," she said aloud.
Daisy shrugged, "Maybe only one shot. If we try it, they'll know."
They being the aliens, obviously. Polly wasn't sure she believed in aliens, but she did believe that they'd controlled the younger girls several times over the last four days. At least until Polly and Daisy had cobbled together their interference broadcast. Translating that from analog to digital was going to compound things, but she figured it had to work.
"So we get it right the first time." Polly narrowed her eyes and put her finger on the screen, "This one. It's American, so the Russians won't get annoyed."
"Good idea. Besides, my languages are rusty."
With shared grins, the three settled down to hack into the satellite and redirect its signal, pin-pointing the triangulation on Thames House.
-=-
"Why are we doing this again?"
Kelly looked up from checking the girls off the list. The trip to London was going to take them too long, if people kept asking her questions. "Bragging rights," she suggested to Annabelle.
"Braggin' rights ain't enough," Taylor objected. She was glaring at the bus the girls were filing into.
"No one else has managed to stop them," replied Kelly smoothly. "Our governments are giving them what they want. So it's up to us to stop it. Besides, the kids they're handing over could have been us at one time or another."
Later, as Matron drove the bus like it was a sports car, breaking several speed records, Kelly sat with Miss Fritton (she'd insisted on going along as chaperone). "Has St. Trinian's ever taken on aliens before?" Kelly asked her, tone idle. She didn't think they had, and the idea seemed fantastic--then again, she was waiting on a call from Polly about taking down aliens, so perhaps it wasn't so fantastic.
"Oh, once or twice. I seem to recall a Dalek invasion back in the 80's--my predecessor dealt with them, of course." Miss Fritton chuckled, "Oh, and the Vogons. Silurians. I think we even had a Sea Devil get lost on its way to Loch Ness." She made a tsking noise, as though scolding the creature even now.
"Really?" Doubt colored Kelly's tone.
"Really."
And that was that. Kelly settled her shoulders into the seat and hung on as they took another corner at a ridiculous speed. She was simply going to have to get used to the idea that aliens existed for St. Trinian's to trounce.
-=-
Standing to the side, Johnson kept an eye. Watching Harkness work, attaching his grandson to the machine, knowing it would kill him. As much as she disliked the idea, one child over millions was expedient. She couldn't simply do nothing, either. Alice Carter had pushed her too much, made her question too often. But she wondered how much of her own humanity was left as Harkness finished, resting his hands on the laptop, head bent.
"Uncle Jack?" Steven asked.
-=-
Polly stared down at the schematics. "I've got it. Daisy?"
"Check."
"Tracy?"
"Recording."
It was a simple set of commands, and Polly hit return with a sense of making history before she tapped her earpiece. "Kelly, I've just sent torpedoes down the exhaust port."
"Roger."
-=-
Kelly smiled at the security guard as the girls poured through the doors, "I'm sorry, were you not informed? School trip!" She let Annabelle grab her, pulling her along through the security gates while Miss Fritton began excitedly telling the guards all about setting up for the trip, fabricating it all out of whole-cloth.
"Top floor," Chelsea said, and they all ran for the stairs.
Behind them, the milling of the other girls would keep their movements blocked.
-=-
An ear-splitting whine tore through the speakers and Harkness jumped, jerking his hands off the keyboard. "What the hell?"
Johnson tensed, hand dropping to her pistol. That wasn't expected. Steven still looked confused--in the distance, Alice was still crying out, begging them not to do this. "Captain?"
"That wasn't me," Harkness replied, turning off the speakers. He gestured, "Someone else is running a distortion wave. Right frequency, too."
"Uncle Jack?" Steven asked, "What's happening?"
"I don't know."
Johnson reached for her phone. "Patch me through to Green," she ordered.
-=-
All those hours in various activities were paying off. The three young women reached the top floor as the sound of shrieking aliens began. Clapping their hands over their ears, they walked past the startled guards and into what was very obviously some sort of audience chamber. Kelly recognized it from the footage Tracy had paged through earlier.
In the tank, the disgusting things writhed and screamed, the sound going on and on until they abruptly imploded, leaving behind an empty chamber.
Kelly took her hands away, "Polly. It worked. You can kill it now."
"Roger, the satellite was beginning to drift again, anyway."
A man in uniform turned towards them, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?"
"Colonel?"
The colonel paused, "The 4-5-6 are gone, sir. But--"
"Gone? How?"
Kelly blew the colonel a kiss before ushering the other two out of the room ahead of her. "Sorry," she said to the guards, "School tour. Got a bit lost."
-=-
"Good to know." Johnson clicked her mobile off and nodded at Steven, "He's safe. Someone else did what we were trying to do. Let her in," she ordered to the men at the door.
Harkness slumped and began disconnecting his grandson from the equipment. Alice punched him before doing it herself.
-=-
It was a bit of a mess, getting the girls back on the bus at the end of the day. The people in Thames House hadn't known quite what to do with them, and wouldn't notice the missing laptops, jewelry, equipment and money until the next day. Kelly waved one last time to the security guard who was never going to be the same again and then claimed her seat next to Miss Fritton.
"Well, that was very successful," Miss Fritton trilled, "I'm terribly proud of you girls."
"Thank you, Miss Fritton!" They all chorused.
-=-
"General." Denise handed him the report from Sergeant Donovan. "I believe you should give these men some leave time. To recover."
"Recover?"
"From St. Trinian's."
He looked at her, baffled. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
Denise Riley pursed her lips for a moment, then smiled slightly, "General, St. Trinian's is a very special place. I suggest you also make certain the men are given counseling for battlefield stress. After all, you never know what was done to them in the interests of boredom and science."
If Joe Donovan had been there, he would have agreed. But only after he'd stopped seeing little bugs crawling on his hands.
-f-
fandoms: St. Trinian's, Torchwood
spoilers: 2007 St. Trinian's movie, Children of Earth
length: 2600
genre: AU, humor, crossover, crack.
rating: PG13? language, the nature of CoE's dark plot.
notes: I have both Children of Earth and St. Trinian's as mp3s for listening to while at work. This, um, does rather horrendous things to my brain. There are some logistical problems (driving time) that I'm hand-waving, but, in the end, I don't think my plot holes are any worse. Any misspelled names are my own fault.
set: takes place during Day Five.
The Trouble With St. Trinian's
by ALC Punk!
In all of the bustle, Denise wasn't expecting the general to question the change she'd made to his list. Unfortunately, with mere hours to go before the deadline, he did.
"Why has St. Trinian's been crossed off this list?" General Pierce looked annoyed, as though they'd been incompetent again. Torchwood had a lot to answer for, destroying their standing with America like that.
Denise pasted a pleasantly bland look on her face. "It's St. Trinian's, sir."
As though that explained everything. If she'd been dealing with Oduya, it probably would have.
The general's frown deepened. "It's one of the targeted schools, and it goes back on."
Not quite the reaction she'd expected. Still, "I don't think you'll want to do that. Sir," she tacked the honorific on, hoping he'd get the point and drop the idea.
"You are the one who came up with this criteria, Ms. Riley." The general pointed at the crossed-off school. "I don't understand why this school would be a problem."
"St. Trinian's." Really, was she going to have to track down that report and the ruling from the Crown regarding the infamous school? She had no idea how Frobisher had even allowed it to appear on the list. The man must have been thoroughly distracted. Of course, he was a little too dead to inquire of.
"Am I to understand there's something different about this school?"
"You could say that, sir."
"Then it should have scored better. I'll have my assistant send out a detail to bus the girls there." He turned away from Denise, a clear dismissal.
He was an idiot, Denise decided. Let him learn about St. Trinian's on his own.
-=-
Sergeant Joseph Donovan had accepted his orders with a sense of unease. The idea that they were busing children for some unknown reason, when the kids had been doing weird shit bothered him more than a little. But he wasn't an officer, and questioning things had never been in his nature. Besides, if he did object, his two children would be handed over--that was more rumor than fact, but Joe had learned long ago that officers would do just about anything to ensure obedience.
As an American, he found the run-down state of St. Trinian's main building rather sad. He wondered if the place would even pass a code inspection, and made a note not to breathe too deeply inside: asbestos poisoning would cut his career short.
"May I help you?" Beverly asked, her hands were braced on the desk while she balanced on one foot. She gave Joe and the two men he'd chosen as escort a once-over, then slowly straightened, leaving both feet on the floor. "You're not here about...?"
The open-ended question didn't bother Joe. "I'm sure you've heard about the vaccinations. We're here to bus those children under eleven to the nearby facility," he told her the cover story smoothly.
"Oh. Is that about the voice thing? 'Cause, like, some of the older girls figured out the right frequencies to block yesterday, so we don't need no cure." She gave a laugh and sat back down in her chair, beaming at the men.
Joe noted the slightly dull look in her eyes, and decided she wasn't very bright. "I'm afraid it doesn't matter. We still must remove them."
"Do you now?" An older, rather frumpy woman had appeared, and Joe vaguely remembered a door to the right opening. She scowled at him, "I wonder how we were added to that little list, hrm? My girls are healthy and fit, and there's no need for this ridiculous vaccination story of yours. Why not just tell us the truth?"
"That is the truth, ma'am."
"That's Miss Fritton to you. And I'm surprised at the Ministry for allowing St. Trinian's to be cured--after our last kerfuffle, they would rather have us docile and controlled by aliens."
Aliens? The old woman was batty, obviously. "Miss Fritton--"
"You UNIT chaps are all the same. Really, please leave, we've no time for this nonsense."
"I'm afraid we can't do that. We have the authority--"
"I'm sure you think you do. Girls! Stop pointing that at this nice Corporal this instant!"
Joe opened his mouth to correct his title when something hard poked him in the back. "Don't try anything. Hands on your head, NOW, and don't move," a high-pitched female voice ordered. The audible cocking of the pistol in his back decided him. He wasn't supposed to get shot while taking children from a school.
With his hands on his head, he was turned and stripped of all weapons as well as his wallet and phone. Facing the door, he could see the two escorts were similarly held. Girls barely shoulder-height were pointing rather large shotguns.
"Out the door," the one at his back instructed, while Miss Fritton made tutting noises and told Beverly to make sure no one was killed, this time.
-=-
Annabelle was very proud of her little plan to take the soldiers that had turned up. Getting the drop on both escorts had been ridiculously simple, with both of them focused on Miss Fritton's confrontation with their CO. Shoving a shotgun into the sergeant's back had a margin for error--if he tried to fight, she wasn't sure she could actually shoot him. Punch him, sure. But shoot a man? Annabelle wasn't entirely sure she had that in her. Luckily, the men had folded like wet cards. And once outside, with their sergeant in custody, it was an easy matter to get them to toss their weapons down and back away.
"Now stand very still," she instructed, as a troop of first-years came out, clanking and staggering a bit. "They've always wanted to try these, you know."
The younger girls giggled as they went in and out of the rows of men, wrapping metal and chains around their legs until the entire platoon was chain together. It was always good to see them using their ingenuity in a way that benefited everyone.
"Do you believe there's a cure?" Annabelle asked Miss Fritton conversationally.
"Not in the least. Our government is up to something, and I suspect it's up to us to find out what. That's enough, girls, don't taunt them. It's not their fault they followed orders!"
Miss Fritton always knew things. Annabelle had gotten used to that, "So we find out what."
"Knowledge is power, my dear," Miss Fritton replied cheerfully.
-=-
"Kel, you know how I was sayin' some of the old Torchwood frequencies was active?" Tracy was one of the youngest computer geeks in the world, having been taken under Polly's wing when she washed-up at St. Trinian's. She had a penchant for hacking and a preference for tracking 'secret' government agencies. Her parents had shipped her there, hoping the boarding-school experience would shape her up.
So far, it hadn't worked.
Frowning, Kelly followed Tracy to her laptop. Downstairs, Miss Fritton and Annabelle were dealing with the army, and Kelly was proud of the way Annabelle was stepping up. Soon, she would graduate and Annabelle would take her place as head girl. If she survived the battle for the spot.
"Once I realized what it was," Tracy explained as she opened her video player and started it, "I started recording it. Sound's choppy, and the image got pixillated by interference, but..."
"...so we're agreed, then..."
Kelly sat down in the chair Tracy had vacated. "Jackpot," she murmured, wondering if she would once have been surprised at the perfidies of government.
"The plan's already started," Tracy pointed out.
"I know. We might be able to use that, later." Eyes clearing, Kelly turned to look at Polly, "You know the interference field you designed?"
"That won't help, it's not strong enough for the whole planet--the power requirements--"
"It doesn't have to be. Can you upload it to a satellite and point it at a specific target?"
Polly frowned for a moment, then shrugged, "It might work--if we had a target."
"Thames House." Kelly replied, pointing at the image of their ministers of state deciding to sacrifice millions of children.
"--and a delivery system."
"What about a satellite?" suggested Tracy.
Polly stared at her, then at Kelly, "You can't just re-task a satellite and point it at Thames House."
"Sure you can. I have faith in you." With a slight smile, Kelly stood. "Tracy, make sure we have as much of that footage as possible. I think I should go organize a school trip."
With a sigh, Polly took her vacated seat. "Daisy, d'you still have that back-door into the NASA systems?"
"Yup."
Kelly smiled even wider as she headed to the stairs. She'd known she could have faith in her geeks.
-=-
The problem with tasking a satellite was two-fold: finding one that would be in the correct orbit at the right time, and finding one with the capacity to broadcast at that range. Polly narrowed her eyes as she scanned the NASA list, comparing it to the one she'd had Tracy pull from a few other sources.
"I think we've got two, maybe three possibles," she said aloud.
Daisy shrugged, "Maybe only one shot. If we try it, they'll know."
They being the aliens, obviously. Polly wasn't sure she believed in aliens, but she did believe that they'd controlled the younger girls several times over the last four days. At least until Polly and Daisy had cobbled together their interference broadcast. Translating that from analog to digital was going to compound things, but she figured it had to work.
"So we get it right the first time." Polly narrowed her eyes and put her finger on the screen, "This one. It's American, so the Russians won't get annoyed."
"Good idea. Besides, my languages are rusty."
With shared grins, the three settled down to hack into the satellite and redirect its signal, pin-pointing the triangulation on Thames House.
-=-
"Why are we doing this again?"
Kelly looked up from checking the girls off the list. The trip to London was going to take them too long, if people kept asking her questions. "Bragging rights," she suggested to Annabelle.
"Braggin' rights ain't enough," Taylor objected. She was glaring at the bus the girls were filing into.
"No one else has managed to stop them," replied Kelly smoothly. "Our governments are giving them what they want. So it's up to us to stop it. Besides, the kids they're handing over could have been us at one time or another."
Later, as Matron drove the bus like it was a sports car, breaking several speed records, Kelly sat with Miss Fritton (she'd insisted on going along as chaperone). "Has St. Trinian's ever taken on aliens before?" Kelly asked her, tone idle. She didn't think they had, and the idea seemed fantastic--then again, she was waiting on a call from Polly about taking down aliens, so perhaps it wasn't so fantastic.
"Oh, once or twice. I seem to recall a Dalek invasion back in the 80's--my predecessor dealt with them, of course." Miss Fritton chuckled, "Oh, and the Vogons. Silurians. I think we even had a Sea Devil get lost on its way to Loch Ness." She made a tsking noise, as though scolding the creature even now.
"Really?" Doubt colored Kelly's tone.
"Really."
And that was that. Kelly settled her shoulders into the seat and hung on as they took another corner at a ridiculous speed. She was simply going to have to get used to the idea that aliens existed for St. Trinian's to trounce.
-=-
Standing to the side, Johnson kept an eye. Watching Harkness work, attaching his grandson to the machine, knowing it would kill him. As much as she disliked the idea, one child over millions was expedient. She couldn't simply do nothing, either. Alice Carter had pushed her too much, made her question too often. But she wondered how much of her own humanity was left as Harkness finished, resting his hands on the laptop, head bent.
"Uncle Jack?" Steven asked.
-=-
Polly stared down at the schematics. "I've got it. Daisy?"
"Check."
"Tracy?"
"Recording."
It was a simple set of commands, and Polly hit return with a sense of making history before she tapped her earpiece. "Kelly, I've just sent torpedoes down the exhaust port."
"Roger."
-=-
Kelly smiled at the security guard as the girls poured through the doors, "I'm sorry, were you not informed? School trip!" She let Annabelle grab her, pulling her along through the security gates while Miss Fritton began excitedly telling the guards all about setting up for the trip, fabricating it all out of whole-cloth.
"Top floor," Chelsea said, and they all ran for the stairs.
Behind them, the milling of the other girls would keep their movements blocked.
-=-
An ear-splitting whine tore through the speakers and Harkness jumped, jerking his hands off the keyboard. "What the hell?"
Johnson tensed, hand dropping to her pistol. That wasn't expected. Steven still looked confused--in the distance, Alice was still crying out, begging them not to do this. "Captain?"
"That wasn't me," Harkness replied, turning off the speakers. He gestured, "Someone else is running a distortion wave. Right frequency, too."
"Uncle Jack?" Steven asked, "What's happening?"
"I don't know."
Johnson reached for her phone. "Patch me through to Green," she ordered.
-=-
All those hours in various activities were paying off. The three young women reached the top floor as the sound of shrieking aliens began. Clapping their hands over their ears, they walked past the startled guards and into what was very obviously some sort of audience chamber. Kelly recognized it from the footage Tracy had paged through earlier.
In the tank, the disgusting things writhed and screamed, the sound going on and on until they abruptly imploded, leaving behind an empty chamber.
Kelly took her hands away, "Polly. It worked. You can kill it now."
"Roger, the satellite was beginning to drift again, anyway."
A man in uniform turned towards them, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?"
"Colonel?"
The colonel paused, "The 4-5-6 are gone, sir. But--"
"Gone? How?"
Kelly blew the colonel a kiss before ushering the other two out of the room ahead of her. "Sorry," she said to the guards, "School tour. Got a bit lost."
-=-
"Good to know." Johnson clicked her mobile off and nodded at Steven, "He's safe. Someone else did what we were trying to do. Let her in," she ordered to the men at the door.
Harkness slumped and began disconnecting his grandson from the equipment. Alice punched him before doing it herself.
-=-
It was a bit of a mess, getting the girls back on the bus at the end of the day. The people in Thames House hadn't known quite what to do with them, and wouldn't notice the missing laptops, jewelry, equipment and money until the next day. Kelly waved one last time to the security guard who was never going to be the same again and then claimed her seat next to Miss Fritton.
"Well, that was very successful," Miss Fritton trilled, "I'm terribly proud of you girls."
"Thank you, Miss Fritton!" They all chorused.
-=-
"General." Denise handed him the report from Sergeant Donovan. "I believe you should give these men some leave time. To recover."
"Recover?"
"From St. Trinian's."
He looked at her, baffled. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
Denise Riley pursed her lips for a moment, then smiled slightly, "General, St. Trinian's is a very special place. I suggest you also make certain the men are given counseling for battlefield stress. After all, you never know what was done to them in the interests of boredom and science."
If Joe Donovan had been there, he would have agreed. But only after he'd stopped seeing little bugs crawling on his hands.
-f-
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Date: 2010-02-05 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-05 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-15 12:33 am (UTC)thank you! I'm still inordinately fond of it. =D
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Date: 2010-06-14 09:16 pm (UTC)*slaps Captain Jack upside the head for his crappy idea*
I was looking around on LJ trying to find a .gif icon of the Posh Totties doing the Oh Em Gee and found this brilliant crack!fic of yours instead.
*\o/*
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Date: 2010-06-15 12:33 am (UTC)But St. Trinian's trumping Torchwood is one of my favoritest ideas EVER. =D
Thank you!
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Date: 2010-06-15 06:36 am (UTC)I &hearts Gemma Arterton. And of course the twins would find a way and send the aliens packing!!
I wish I could find that OMG icon cos that would just be the best.