The Pittsburgh Incident - Part One
Nov. 13th, 2010 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
open_flameCharacters: Liz Sherman, Hellboy, a troop of black suits, mentions of Jack Harkness.
Fandom: Hellboy/ Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse.
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Word Count: 1200
Prompt: AFI – Miss Murder
“The stars that pierce the sky;
He left them all behind.
We’re left to wonder why
He left us all behind.
AN: Pittsburgh Incident Part One: Bump!Verse Style
“You comin' or what?” Her sleepy eyes snapped open when Hellboy's massive stone hand shook her shoulder. Liz Sherman blinked as though her mind was having trouble making out what was reality and what was a dream. Liz wasn't dreaming as she slept,though. Not really. You couldn't call nightmares dreams, could you?
“Is he here? Did he make it?” Her head jerked up, wide brown eyes looking out the window of the supersized helicopter for any sign of Jack Harkness. Hellboy dropped his head and frowned, hating the fact the Captain had let her down. He wasn't surprised though. It was happening more and more frequently. If Red didn't know better, he'd say Jack was avoiding the BPRD on purpose. The soft bit of Red's heart wanted to tell Liz that Jack wouldn't let them down. Not again. He'd be here, just like he told Broom he would be. That part of him that knew this abandonment on Jack's part was going to happen, however, had a quick retort ready and waiting. “Probably eatin' fish and chips and drinkin' pints and watchin' them Fat Ladies or some shit.” The demon chuckled to himself.
Hellboy fully expected to be slapped across the mouth for that. He knew shit talking Jack in front of Liz of all people would earn at least that, if not a fireball right on his big red ass. Imagine his surprise when she calmly rose from her chair and walked to the weapons hold without a single word. He looked around the cabin at the black suits, most of which he'd worked with many times before, as though one of them could offer a reason for Liz's opposite than normal reaction. “She did hear me say that, didn't she?” Red whispered to a suit with a blond buzz cut. The man shrugged, not knowing what would be a normal reaction for Liz and what wouldn't be. It was his first mission, his first day out with the freaks.
“You comin' or what?” Liz mocked Red's tone from moments ago as she loaded her utility belt with all manner of tech and weapons. A communicator, a locater device and three types of handguns, including the one that used a miniature version of Red's signature whoppers. She studied the selection before her again, pulling a few small knives from the wall before stepping aside. “Kinda overkill, ain't it kid?” Red grinned as he snapped open the steel case that housed the Samaritan. He grinned down at him most prized possession before loading the full sizes whoppers. It was all he needed. That gun was all he ever needed. Anything that couldn't handle, that big stone hand of his could.
“We don't know what we're walking into, HB. Better safe than...sorry.” Liz looked out the window again, as if somehow a second helicopter would have arrived without her noticing while she suited up. She pulled a leather jacket from a hanger, zipping it up roughly, as though the garment had done something awful to deserve such treatment. She shook her head, a mixture of anger and sadness twitching over her features before she decided anger was easier to deal with. It usually was. “Damn it, Jack. You promised...” She hissed as she jumped down to the ground.
No one made any attempt to stop her. She looked normal enough, save all the weaponry circling her waist. She didn't have to wait for an all clear before she stepped into the patchy fog. You couldn't see the stars tonight, or the moon, and somehow it made Liz feel even more alone. She kept her head raised as she held her hand out to a passing agent she'd worked with dozens of times. It was a universal signal they all understood. Within ten seconds, a cigarette rested in her tiny palm. She dropped her eyes down to look at it a moment, considering crushing it and burning it into ashes in lieu of smoking it.
It was Jack's favorite kind of cigarette. Not many of the agents knew about that secret indulgence, the bad little habit the Captain had picked up along with Liz, Hellboy and Hellboy's 'babysitter', Agent Clay. Obviously, Liz wasn't the only one who had held out hope that Jack would be leading the mission tonight instead of Liz. “Thanks.” Liz croaked as she stuffed the smoke in her lips, sparking the tip of her index finger like it was the most normal thing in the world. The smell and flavor assaulted her senses the same way they always did, but she liked it. She really liked it. It made her feel alive. It made her feel normal, and damn it all did she love feeling normal.
Half a dozen agent in sunglasses and smart black suits had surrounded the foundry in Braddrock Town. It was long abandoned, but they knew kids liked to play there. Teenagers liked to throw parties. Young lovers liked to sneak away for alone time away from prying eyes. The building sweep took longer than expected, allowing Liz to finish several cigarettes and a cup of tepid coffee while they waited. Finally, Agent Smith, who was a ordinary looking as his name would suggest, stepped out of the building, nodding to a woman agent who nodded back before pressing her comm. “Big Red's got the green light.” She said as her eyes fell on the helicopter.
The chopper rocked from side to side a bit as the eight foot tall demon leapt from it. His tail twitched nervously as he followed Liz's gaze to the ominous looking building. “Fifty bucks says it's the ghost of Jimmy Hoffa.” Red elbowed the firestarter hard enough to make her nearly lose her balance. “Fuck off, Red. Hoffa's under the turnpike and you know it.” She snarked at him without missing a beat. Under any other circumstance, a smile would have graced her thin lips. Instead, that frown that made her look so much older than she really was stayed fixed. Liz sighed, craning her head back one last time. Third times a charm, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, Jack would make a miraculous last minute appearance. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.
After a long and eerie silence, Agent Smith cleared his throat, nodding to the building as if it was going to grow legs and walk away if they didn't get on with it soon. Somehow, every single person who was watching that building couldn't work up the guts to step inside. It was as though it was forcing them all back. Had Jack been there, orders would have been barked and everyone would have fallen into line without question, descending on the building with accuracy, speed and an unexplainable amount of bravery and confidence. He had that effect on people.
But, Jack wasn't here. And it was becoming clear he wasn't going to be. Liz blinked back the burn in her eyes and swallowed the cotton she was sure someone had stuffed down her throat before she took several confident steps towards the foundry. She spoke what might pass as orders into the open comm, her voice wavering just enough for everyone to pick up. “Let's... get moving.”
Fandom: Hellboy/ Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse.
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Word Count: 1200
Prompt: AFI – Miss Murder
“The stars that pierce the sky;
He left them all behind.
We’re left to wonder why
He left us all behind.
AN: Pittsburgh Incident Part One: Bump!Verse Style
“You comin' or what?” Her sleepy eyes snapped open when Hellboy's massive stone hand shook her shoulder. Liz Sherman blinked as though her mind was having trouble making out what was reality and what was a dream. Liz wasn't dreaming as she slept,though. Not really. You couldn't call nightmares dreams, could you?
“Is he here? Did he make it?” Her head jerked up, wide brown eyes looking out the window of the supersized helicopter for any sign of Jack Harkness. Hellboy dropped his head and frowned, hating the fact the Captain had let her down. He wasn't surprised though. It was happening more and more frequently. If Red didn't know better, he'd say Jack was avoiding the BPRD on purpose. The soft bit of Red's heart wanted to tell Liz that Jack wouldn't let them down. Not again. He'd be here, just like he told Broom he would be. That part of him that knew this abandonment on Jack's part was going to happen, however, had a quick retort ready and waiting. “Probably eatin' fish and chips and drinkin' pints and watchin' them Fat Ladies or some shit.” The demon chuckled to himself.
Hellboy fully expected to be slapped across the mouth for that. He knew shit talking Jack in front of Liz of all people would earn at least that, if not a fireball right on his big red ass. Imagine his surprise when she calmly rose from her chair and walked to the weapons hold without a single word. He looked around the cabin at the black suits, most of which he'd worked with many times before, as though one of them could offer a reason for Liz's opposite than normal reaction. “She did hear me say that, didn't she?” Red whispered to a suit with a blond buzz cut. The man shrugged, not knowing what would be a normal reaction for Liz and what wouldn't be. It was his first mission, his first day out with the freaks.
“You comin' or what?” Liz mocked Red's tone from moments ago as she loaded her utility belt with all manner of tech and weapons. A communicator, a locater device and three types of handguns, including the one that used a miniature version of Red's signature whoppers. She studied the selection before her again, pulling a few small knives from the wall before stepping aside. “Kinda overkill, ain't it kid?” Red grinned as he snapped open the steel case that housed the Samaritan. He grinned down at him most prized possession before loading the full sizes whoppers. It was all he needed. That gun was all he ever needed. Anything that couldn't handle, that big stone hand of his could.
“We don't know what we're walking into, HB. Better safe than...sorry.” Liz looked out the window again, as if somehow a second helicopter would have arrived without her noticing while she suited up. She pulled a leather jacket from a hanger, zipping it up roughly, as though the garment had done something awful to deserve such treatment. She shook her head, a mixture of anger and sadness twitching over her features before she decided anger was easier to deal with. It usually was. “Damn it, Jack. You promised...” She hissed as she jumped down to the ground.
No one made any attempt to stop her. She looked normal enough, save all the weaponry circling her waist. She didn't have to wait for an all clear before she stepped into the patchy fog. You couldn't see the stars tonight, or the moon, and somehow it made Liz feel even more alone. She kept her head raised as she held her hand out to a passing agent she'd worked with dozens of times. It was a universal signal they all understood. Within ten seconds, a cigarette rested in her tiny palm. She dropped her eyes down to look at it a moment, considering crushing it and burning it into ashes in lieu of smoking it.
It was Jack's favorite kind of cigarette. Not many of the agents knew about that secret indulgence, the bad little habit the Captain had picked up along with Liz, Hellboy and Hellboy's 'babysitter', Agent Clay. Obviously, Liz wasn't the only one who had held out hope that Jack would be leading the mission tonight instead of Liz. “Thanks.” Liz croaked as she stuffed the smoke in her lips, sparking the tip of her index finger like it was the most normal thing in the world. The smell and flavor assaulted her senses the same way they always did, but she liked it. She really liked it. It made her feel alive. It made her feel normal, and damn it all did she love feeling normal.
Half a dozen agent in sunglasses and smart black suits had surrounded the foundry in Braddrock Town. It was long abandoned, but they knew kids liked to play there. Teenagers liked to throw parties. Young lovers liked to sneak away for alone time away from prying eyes. The building sweep took longer than expected, allowing Liz to finish several cigarettes and a cup of tepid coffee while they waited. Finally, Agent Smith, who was a ordinary looking as his name would suggest, stepped out of the building, nodding to a woman agent who nodded back before pressing her comm. “Big Red's got the green light.” She said as her eyes fell on the helicopter.
The chopper rocked from side to side a bit as the eight foot tall demon leapt from it. His tail twitched nervously as he followed Liz's gaze to the ominous looking building. “Fifty bucks says it's the ghost of Jimmy Hoffa.” Red elbowed the firestarter hard enough to make her nearly lose her balance. “Fuck off, Red. Hoffa's under the turnpike and you know it.” She snarked at him without missing a beat. Under any other circumstance, a smile would have graced her thin lips. Instead, that frown that made her look so much older than she really was stayed fixed. Liz sighed, craning her head back one last time. Third times a charm, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, Jack would make a miraculous last minute appearance. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.
After a long and eerie silence, Agent Smith cleared his throat, nodding to the building as if it was going to grow legs and walk away if they didn't get on with it soon. Somehow, every single person who was watching that building couldn't work up the guts to step inside. It was as though it was forcing them all back. Had Jack been there, orders would have been barked and everyone would have fallen into line without question, descending on the building with accuracy, speed and an unexplainable amount of bravery and confidence. He had that effect on people.
But, Jack wasn't here. And it was becoming clear he wasn't going to be. Liz blinked back the burn in her eyes and swallowed the cotton she was sure someone had stuffed down her throat before she took several confident steps towards the foundry. She spoke what might pass as orders into the open comm, her voice wavering just enough for everyone to pick up. “Let's... get moving.”
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