Title: Not the Best of DaysAuthor: hhertzofBeta: attempt_unique Prompt: Vislor Turlough walks into a bar and meets... Abby SciutoFandoms: Doctor Who/NCISWord count: 1863Rating/Warnings: PG for a murder investigation, no warnings apply.Turlough was not having a good day. He didn't like being locked up in interrogation cells. He'd had enough of that during his travels with the Doctor - and even before that, during the war.The problem with speaking English was that people were always pointing out that he spoke English and then expecting him to go to Earth and speak English. To be honest, it wasn't that he objected to speaking English, he just disliked Earth. And this particular trip had been worse than usual.It had started when the tiny Trion embassy tucked up on the third floor of a row house with no lift in a less than desirable part of Washington D.C. didn't have his paperwork ready. He still hadn't sorted out the legalities of extraterrestrial embassies - this was a Class 5 planet, after all- but there were at least a dozen tiny ones on this street. The United States government seemed to recognise them in some fashion, even if they didn't openly acknowledge dealings with other planets and he knew of similar set-ups in other countries, so it should have been a common task and relatively easy for them to arrange. And yet, the embassy hadn't been able to come up with appropriate documentation and when he'd asked for an advance on his expense money, they'd managed $20, in notes and coins clearly scrounged from around the Embassy (and possibly from the pockets of employees). At that point, he'd thrown up his hands and asked for a phone.Sarah Jane was more than happy to help. It took Turlough less than ten minutes to arrange for her to get papers, money and a mobile phone to him, and confirm once again his less than stellar opinion of WorldGov. At least when his own country asked his assistance on assignments like this, he could trust that everything would be in order.He left the embassy with directions to the bar where Sarah Jane had said he'd meet his contact and $10 in his pocket, having left the other $10 behind to pay for the phone call. This was all going in his report, but he wasn't about to penalise the embassy because WorldGov couldn't be bothered to fund them properly. Just because it was a tiny embassy on a backwater planet didn't mean that they shouldn't have enough money to do their jobs."Vislor Turlough." The man closed the door with a bang, startling Turlough out of his reverie, and dropped the envelope Turlough had been carrying when he'd been taken into custody on the table. Turlough had heard the other agents call him Gibbs, and he was clearly the one in charge. If the United States had been a dictatorship, he might have worried about the lack of uniforms. He had yet to figure out what NCIS stood for, but he was almost certain it wasn't the secret police. Especially since they'd shown up in the bar in windbreakers with NCIS in bold letters blazoned across the back."Yes?" he tilted his head and looked at the other man inquisitively. He'd been in this sort of situation too often to be intimidated, and after the first few instances, he'd learnt to control his natural bent towards sarcasm until he'd sized up the situation.The other man idly leafed through the contents of the manila envelope. "British passport which matches the ID in your wallet and $500 in cash. Odd way to carry your cash."The man was fishing, but Turlough couldn't argue with that. "I went there to meet a friend of a friend. I'd run short of cash, so I asked her to wire me some money. Sarah arranged for her friend to give me a loan so I wouldn't have to wait around for the transfer to go through. She brought the cash over in the envelope, so it wouldn't raise eyebrows. I showed her my passport to verify my identity and when your people burst in, I must have stuck it in the envelope in my distraction." He'd taken the time to put the ID and debit card in his wallet and the mobile in his pocket, why hadn't he thought to put the passport away too?"Reasonable," Gibbs replied, in a way that implied that it wasn't."Then I can go?" Turlough did not expect the answer to be yes, but it was always worth asking."You're currently a suspect in a murder investigation." Gibbs gave him a look that Turlough suspected would have unsettled another man.Turlough hid his relief; he'd expected to be accused of dealing drugs. "Who am I supposed to have murdered?" It seemed like the most reasonable question. "And if I were going to murder someone, why would I have stayed in a bar where I couldn't blend into the woodwork if I tried?" He absently straightened his tie as he said that to emphasise just how out of place he'd been in a bar where almost everyone else was dressed in leather and black lace."His name was Jase McKenzie. He's a US Naval Officer and his body was found in the back alley shortly before 2pm." This was accompanied with another all-too-knowing look that made Turlough glad he wasn't responsible for the other man's death. "Perhaps you should tell me exactly what happened.""I walked into the bar at about 12:45pm, judging by the clock on the back of the bar. When I walked in, there was a nasty argument going on at the bar. One of the guys was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt and the other one looked just as out of place as I did in blue jeans and a stained blue button down shirt. The man in the blue shirt left almost immediately, pushing past me and nearly knocking me into the waitress. The bartender might not remember me, but she'd remember that. I was supposed to meet my friend's friend at 1pm, so I took a seat at one of the tables and ordered chips. I hadn't had lunch and I only had about $10 at the time. Sarah said said that her friend would find me, and she did, maybe ten minutes later." Turlough paused, trying to think of how to describe the woman. "The woman I met was about my height, but she might have been wearing heels, I couldn't see. Puffy black skirt, white Oxford shirt with black lace trim, black on black tie - I couldn't tell what the design was in the dim light, black pigtails, black makeup. The only name I got was Abby." To his astonishment, Gibbs stopped him there. "And you were with her the entire time?""It was her lunch hour, so she bought me lunch." The food had been surprisingly good, given the atmosphere. "She left in a rush, saying she had to get back to work.""Thank you." Gibbs left the room without another word.Turlough stared at the door, feeling a bit bewildered. He hoped he hadn't got Abby in any trouble. She didn't seem like the sort of person who'd murder anyone.
O.OThat was awesome.
So is your icon. :DThank you