Disclaimer: Buffy and Torchwood belong to Joss Whedon and Russel T. Davies, respectively. I do not own.

Spontaneous fanfiction publishing! This is just a little Torchwood/Buffy crossover, which I've pulled up from the pages of history (i.e. I wrote this a while back and have only just rediscovered it.) Please do enjoy, read, review etc etc. :P

On another note - my apologies to any Stephanie Meyer/Twilight fans. The following does contain gratuitous dislike for the series. You have been warned.

To my regular subscribers (you know who you are) - look out for some more Merlin, Sherlock and NCIS fics in the future. :)

Of Rifts and Vampires

"Well, isn't this neat," Spike commented dryly, looking his double up and down.

"Neat? Who says neat?" Captain John Hart replied, grimacing at the other's bleach blond hair. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Spike," was the blunt reply. "And you?"

There was a pause. "Captain John Hart."


"At least it's a title, mate. What kind of a name is Spike anyway?"

Spike let it pass and turned to the subject of their similar appearance. "So how come you look like me?"

"How come you look like me, more like it," John replied. "You from some parallel universe or alternate reality or something?"

"No," Spike answered, once again looking John up and down. "Might be a couple of centuries old, but I'm still from here," he paused and a quizzical look crossed his face briefly. "Where exactly is here?"


"Cardiff? Well isn't that just bloody brilliant."

"Know what you mean," John muttered in accord. "But really, you're how old?" he questioned. When Spike didn't reply straight away John groaned with the prospect of a sudden realisation. "Oh, don't tell me you know Jack Harkness? That sounds like something he'd say; couple of centuries old."

"Nope, can't say I know any Jack Harkness'."

John nodded. "Probably for the best," he muttered. "But really, you're that old?"

"And aging pretty well," was the drawling reply.

The captain frowned, "you sure you don't know Jack?"


There was a pregnant pause before either spoke again. It gave them both a good chance to study each other further.

"I still don't get how you look like me," Spike began again.

"Believe me, neither do I."

~ *XX* ~

"Jack! We've got rift activity," Gwen yelled as her computer beeped.

"Coming!" Jack replied as both he and Ianto ran out from the former's office. Gwen watched them and rolled her eyes slightly.

"What is it?"

"Something big."

"Bigger than weevils?" Ianto asked.

"Yes," Gwen nodded, turning to him.

"We'd better get out there then," Jack said and in minutes the three had left.

~ *XX* ~

"You're lucky I've already eaten today," Spike told John, as he mindlessly picked at his nails.

"And why would that be?" John narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you're a cannibal."

"Now that you mention..." Spike began to say, but stopped himself as he obviously spotted something over the Captain's shoulder.

"John Hart?" a familiar voice sounded from behind John and he groaned, turning around to face Captain Jack Harkness, Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones.

"Harkness! Long time no see."

"Not long enough, some might say," Jack replied, lowering his weapon and flashing a grin.

"I second that," Ianto muttered dryly.

"Eye Candy!"

Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Who's you're friend, Vera." Gwen spoke up, spotting the man half hidden in the shadows behind him.

"I wouldn't say friend," Spike replied, stepping out from behind John, trusting his hands into his leather jack pockets.

"There's two of you!" Gwen's eyes widened.

"Great," Ianto signed.


"It's Spike," both John and Spike spoke in unison.

"And we don't have any explanation for it either, Jack," Captain Hart signed.

"I have no pleasure in having a doppelganger, trust me," Spike said.

"The feeling's mutual," John replied sincerely.

"So what are we going to do?" Gwen asked.

"You ain't doing anything," Spike replied. "I'm getting outta here. Really don't want to be seen with poncy Welshmen; could hurt my image." Ianto and Gwen glanced at each other with raised eyebrows. He sounded just like John – talk about peas in a pod.

"Well, I'm blaming the Rift," Jack commented. "Our monitors sensed you."

"I should have guessed," John muttered.

"Wait? You've got monitors?" Spike questioned. "For...?"

"People like you," Gwen replied, meaning people who had come through the rift.

"Like me?" Spike asked. "Well, I congratulate you on that. Sunnydale could really use that," and he grinned widely before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in a well practised motion.


"That's home," was the smoky reply.

"And the Rift brought you here?" Jack asked with a slight frown. "Hold on... you mean there is another Rift in Sunnydale?

"Rift? What the bloody hell are you talk about? I flew here couple of days ago, been meaning to take a break, I heard there was less sun over here. Anyway, didn't think I'd end up in Cardiff with you lot. Bloody public transport," he muttered. "Now, tell me about these monitors of yours."

"Why do you care so much about our technology?" Gwen asked.

"Who are you?" Jack asked again.

"I told you. Spike," was the somewhat terse reply. "Didn't realise you people had the technology to monitor vamps. You have my admiration for that, but I really should be going."

"Vamps?" Gwen asked.


"Well, yeah. Didn't you say you've got monitors?" And Spike took another long drag of the cigarette.

"For people coming through the Rift," Jack said.

"That'd be me," John raised a hand.

"So you can't monitor people like me?" Spike confirmed, with sudden realisation.

"No," Ianto answered.

"Right. Well, just forget everything I said," Spike told them with a flash of a smile.

"I'm not sure about that," Jack said, raising his gun again.

"You know that can't kill me," Spike said with a shrug.

"It'll hurt though," Jack countered.

"Ok, yeah, I'll give you that one."

"But you're a vampire? Really?" Gwen asked. "Do they even exist?" she aimed her last question at Jack, who shrugged slightly.

"Yeah love, we exist," Spike answered. "The fangs, the drinking blood, not going in sunlight, you know the drill. And you can lower that gun, I've already fed." Jack's hand didn't waver and Spike sighed.

"So you weren't kidding when I mentioned cannibal?" John asked.

"Not really, no."

"What are we going to do with him, Jack?" Gwen asked.

"I told you, you guys aren't doing anything. I'm leaving remember," Spike repeated, blowing cigarette smoke out his nose.

"And let you get back to draining people dry?" Ianto raised an eyebrow.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I kicked that bucket years ago. Slayer can do that to ya," and his eyes glazed over slightly.

"Slayer?" John asked.

"Vampire Slayer. Long story," Spike told them. "All you need to know is that I go farm fresh these days. Quite literally. Cow's blood is rather good."

"Well, that's a relief," Ianto said sardonically. "He's a vampire, but he doesn't feast on humans."

"Is that reminding anyone else of those Twilight novels?" Gwen suddenly asked.

"Oh God please, do not get me started on them," Spike groaned.

"I cannot stand those stupid novels," John agreed and no one questioned how the Time Agent from a different part in space knew of the series.

"Me too," Jack and Ianto said in unison, before sharing a small smile.

"Finally something we all agree on," Gwen sighed.

"It is so embarrassing being a vampire after those novels, trust me," Spike muttered. "The number of time I've considered going after Stephanie bloody Meyer..."

"Thought you kicked that bucket?" John pointed out.

"It's Stephanie Meyer," Spike replied.

"Good point," the four others said together and Jack lowered his weapon, as though someone who hated the Twilight novels was worth trusting.

"I really feel for you, mate," John told the vampire, patting his on the shoulder.

"The reputation of us has just gone down the drain," Spike mourned. "It's so shameful. And I really just want to make it clear; we do no sparkle. I mean, how bloody gay is that?" Ianto raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I know what you mean," Gwen told them. "She has ruined the whole idea of vampires."

"At least you're not a vampire yourself. Meyer has really fucking ruined us," Spike shook his head and dropped the used cigarette butt on the pavement, before grinding it with the heel of his boot.

"Sounds like you need a drink," John muttered.

'Of alcohol," Ianto clarified.

"I'll shout," Jack said, holstering his gun properly. "All this talk of Twilight has made me feel ill."

"Me too," Spike said. "Thanks."

And without any further conversing the five of them left the alleyway and headed to the nearest bar with the hope of pushing any further thoughts of Twilight and Stephanie Meyer to the back of their minds.