Is it time for a crossover? I think so. :3 So here's my baby - I've been working on the past ten chapters nonstop so I have something to entertain anyone who's vaguely interested in this in the looming exam period while I get busy with revision. Lemme' know what you think, I've LOVED writing this. Thank you (as always) to the sexy Kiarra-Chan for her beta'ing help, and to SchmEthan, who will always be my grammar hero :3
On with the show, my friends! :D

Kings and queens and presidents, ministers of governments - welcome to the future of your world.
Take That - Kidz

6th of April, 2012. Scotland.

The head of TORCHWOOD 6.2, located in the remote parts of Scotland, sipped his coffee. It was nasty – bitter and cheap- but the caffeine was all the same.

Do you know what isn't all the same?


Everything- and everyone- is different. Black, white, tall, short, fat, slim, loving, caring, warm, cold, dark, murderous. Humanity has one heart, but many, many different veins.

And TORCHWOOD 6.2 was one of the smallest capillaries of the TORCHWOOD organisation, and the least supplied. Think about it. London was TORCHWOOD's beating heart. Supplies– the blood- comes from it. By the time it gets to Scotland, it's used. Worn. Communication between the heart and Scotland was buggered, and the equipment only worked once in a blue moon. 6.2 was on its own.

And that made it bitter. Like its coffee.

Sighing, the head of the TORCHWOOD 6.2 set the polystyrene cup onto his desk and, laying his hands on the surface, stood up. His chair rattled behind him as he moved out from behind his desk and went to the nearest glass wall, and looked out at the rows upon rows of computer screens, worked by men and women in crisp blue uniforms. His eyes moved to the screen in front, which tracked any and all movements in Scotland's outer space. His lips twitched ever so slightly.

The call had been a strange one. It had come from an American man, whose voice sounded like rough, worn out gold.

It hadn't been a very beneficial conversation.

"Am I speaking to Darren McDonald?"


"Head of TORCHWOOD 6.2 – located in Aberdeen, Scotland?"

"How do you know who I am? And how the fuck did you get my work number?"

"I think you'll find I'm a very resourceful man, Mr McDonald."

McDonald's lips twitched again. He was a resourceful man. And a persistent bugger too – after McDonald had ripped the SIM card out of his phone, smashed it and then thrown the whole thing into a river followed by a brick to make sure – the stranger called him again at his office.

"Darren McDonald."

"Ah, good afternoon Mr McDonald!"

"Leave me the fuck alone."

"Don't be so hasty! You and I have a lot to discuss."

"I don't want to hear it. I can get forces outside of the government to track you down and rip the shit out of you."

"Now, you and I both know that that isn't going to happen. When was the last time London contacted you?

"I'm going to take that silence as an 'I don't know.' Don't suppose you're very fond of them, either?"

"Those stuck up pricks don't know what real work is."

"Ah, a man after my own heart!"

"Look, what do you want from me?"

"Just some help. I want you and your small team to help me find a man."

"A bit of man on man action, is that what you're looking for? You just want the high street on Saturday night."

"Very funny, Mr McDonald. No, I'm searching for a specific man. A man of great resource and power."

"I know a few."

"I bet you do. I don't suppose you would know of one called 'The Doctor'?"

"His file is the most read one in TORCHWOOD history. Knowing about him gets you in, actually meeting the bastard gets you a senior position."

"I think we're going to get along very well, Mr McDonald."

Darren McDonald's eyes slowly came to rest on the place where all the wires from the computer met. The thing was coffin shaped, with an elegant curved strip of glass at its very top. Images flickered on the inside of it, reflecting off the eyes of the man inside the thing.

He was the beating heart to all those computers. The centre of it – the grand piece. The key.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Warren. Warren Vidic. And I'm your new best friend, Mr McDonald."

So how's it looking so far? :D Do leave me a review - I promise there'll be lots more to come :3 Much love all! *Heart with hands*