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firewhiskeyficTitle: Gilderoy Spreads Alarm (But Not Despondency)
Author:amedia
I am of legal drinking age in my region: Yes
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Pairings: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Jack Harkness/Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Fraser/Kowalski, Boerne/Thiel, Troy/Moffitt/Hitch/Tully. Other characters: Gilderoy Lockhart, the Doctor, plus special guest appearances by Silke Haller and Frannie Vecchio. Fandoms: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Guardian (Zhen Hun), due South, Tatort Münster, Rat Patrol.
Challenge/Prompts used: “Gilderoy Lockhart”
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart wanders through several slashy fandsom universes.
Rating/Warnings: Mature. No warnings.
Word count: 2911
Author's Notes (if any): The title comes from Rat Patrol , in the episode "The Kingdom Come Raid. At some point Mofiftt says especially charmingly “Shall we spread a little alarm and despondency?”
St. Mungo’s Hospital staff were well aware that Gilderoy Lockhart, despite his lack of mental acuity (which to be hoenst had been an ongoing problem even before he obliviated himself), still possessed a certain cunning when it came to escape attempts. Fortunately, he was sufficiently distinctive-looking that he was always spotted and returned before he managed to exit the groudns.
That is, until one day when a very different sort of Doctor who didn’t ordinarily work at St. Mungo’s came to visit and accidentally dropped a gizmo that generated a portable perception filter. Gilderoy Lockhart, never averse to petty thievery of shiny objects (one had to diversify and not just steal other people’s accomplishments), quickly picked oit up and stuffed it in his pocket. The Doctor who had lost it was puzzled for a while but then he just went back to his police box and built himself another one.
It took another month or so for Lockhart to realize that the shiny thing had alittle light on it, and several more weeks before he realized that when the light was on, no one noticed him. At first he was very put out, because being noticed was, after all, what he lived for. At least, he was pretty sure that was what he lived for. As sure as he was of anything about himself.
It ook a few more weeks for him to get over his reluctance not to be noticed because he had finally realized that he could use the device TO ESCAPE! Wheeee! He simply strolled out the front door and walked away, marveling at his own cleverness.
“I really don’t have time for this,” sighed the Doctor when the report came in that an unauthorized use of a portable perception filter had just been detected in an unmappable area of London. He flicked on a special communication device that hotlinked him to the planet Seastar. “Shen Wei, are you there?”
There was a certain amount of noise that sounded remarkably like someone extracting himself from the extremely close embrace of someone else who was reluctant to let him go. The words, “No, Zhao Yunlan, I really have to answer this,” were mumbled in the background, and then, more clearly, “Shen Wei here. Please tell me that this is an emergency, Doctor.”
“I’m afraid it is, Professor,” said the Doctor, and outlined the problem.
“Really?” Zhao Yunlan expostulated, having obviously grabbed the microphone at his end. “You can’t keep your damn gadget in your pocket?”
“I might say the same to you, Chief Zhao,” said th e Doctor, looking at his watch. “It’s about three o’clock on a Thursday faterrnoon there. Are you actdually doing this in yhour office?”
“Doing precisely what?” Zhao Yunlan answered snippily. “What are you intimating?”
“Doing Shen Wei, to be precise,” said the Doctor. “I’m intimating intimacy.”
Shen Wei sighed loudly and apparently grabbed the microphone back. “You’re not wrong. But this is still your fault for losing the filter and you owe me, big time.”
“Right, right, right,” said the Doctgor. “How about I send Captain Jack your way for a threesome?”
“Well, um …” Shen Wei began. Zhao Yunlan cut him off. “You’ve got a deal. Go on, Xiao Wei. The sooner you go, the sooner we can get back to—”
Thje Doctor hung up.
Shen Wei closed his eyes and concentrated, gathering dark energy in both hands. He looked altogether powerful and dignified except for the fact that he had thrown on Zhao Yunlan’s torn denim jacket (deliberately torn, it was made that way) over his own torn boxers (Zhao Yunlan had ripped them off a few minutes earlier).
Once he had located Gilderoy Lockhart, he transformed into the Black Cloaked Envoy (the hood, maske, and cloak fortunately covering up the jacket, the boxers, multiple hickeys, and an interesting bruise on his hip shaped exactly like the corner of Chief Zhao’s office desk), opened a portal, and stepped through it.
“Hey!” protested Gilderoy Lockhart as Shen Wei made his usual, very extra, entrance. The air grew cold, the light dimmed, and the Black Cloaked Envoy stepped o ut of a swirl of black, purple, and blue energy,
“You have something there that doesn’t belong to you,” said the Envoy, his voice low and menacing.
Gilderoy Lockhart pouted. “You noticed me,” he said in a wounded voice. “And you’re prettier than I am.”
Shen Wei sighed. It was hard to stay mad at this forlorn and gormless individual. “There, there,” he said. “I’m from another planet. You’re still the pretties one on this planet.”
Lockhart immediately smiled and turned his head slightly so that the sun would glint off his teeth.
“Now give me the device,” Shen Wei said.
“Do I hafta?” Lockhart whined.
Shen Wei decided he’d better revert back to the Black Cloaked Envoy voice, which was only one step shy of the full menace of his Teacher Voice. “You must,” he intoned.
Lockhart sighed, pulled out the shiny gizmo, and handed it over. “Oh, hey,” he said, noticing what else was in his inner jacket pocket. “I have a wand! Want to see a magic trick?”
“No, I really don’t,” sighed Shen Wei, speaking normally again. “Goodbye.”
Lockhart waved the wand experimentally at the portal as it closed behing Shen Wei. To his delight, itopened up again, although Shen Wei did not reappear. J”Hey, maybe I can use this!” Lockhart exclaimed, and walked into the swirling energies.
Ray Kowalski grunted softly as Benton Fraser pushed hard against him, then jerked back, slammed even harder one last time, then suddenly held still.
“Thanks, Frase,” said Ray. “Just what I needed.”
“Any time, Ray,” said Fraser, pulling out the drawer that had been rusted shut. “These filing cabinets should have been replaced a long time ago.
There was an odd sound from outside. “Is it just me, or is it suddenly cold in here?” asked Ray.
“It is definitely not just you, Ray,” said Fraser. “This particular chill reminds me of a a time when I helped a group of native youngsters track down a missing elk calf. It was a spring day, but there was a persistent breeze bearing the distinct scent of snow, and—”
A blond man in an elaborate, old-fashioned suit with a dramatic veltvet cape walked into the room. Ray held up a hand to stop Fraser, as indeed he had been wanting to, and said, “May we help you?”
“Perhaps?” said the man, looking around. “I’m not sure where I am. And oh, my, look at the fashions. This is most certainly not the twenty-first century. Some people say it’s impossible to distinguish Muggle fashions of the nineties from the oughty-oughts, but to those of us with a keen eye, they’re like night and day!” He looked Ray in particular up and down with a critical eye. “Hmm, perhaps 1996?”
Frannie walked in carrying a stack of files and noticed Lockhart. “Well, hello there!” she said warmly.
“1998!” he said, eyeing her outfit.
“$19.98???” she scoffed. “Look, buster, this dress was $45 HALF PRICE. I’m not some floozy who shops at Ross Dress-for-Less.” She tossed her hair and walked out, her heels clicking firmly on the floor.
Ray chuckled. “You’re right about the year. But wow, for such a good-lookin’ guy, you’re not so good with the ladies, are ya?”
“I do seem to have made a faux pas,” mused Lockhart.
“Quite a solecism,” agreed Fraser. “But perhaps it is more important to observe that there appears to be a swirling vortex forming in the air immediately behind you.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lockhart cheerfully. “It’s some sort of alien portal thingy. It’ll grab me at any moment. I’m afriad this means goodbye!” He waved as the portal moved closer and saved him from further embarrassment by swallowing him right up.
“What are you doing here?” snapped Boerne. “You’re not dead. Get out of my morgue.” He was standing in front of a table on which lay a very fresh corpse indeed. His assistant, Haller, was cutting the corpse’s bloody clothing off, murmuring “blunt force trauma,” as she worked.
“Wait a moment,” said Thiel. “Maybe he’s here to help with the investigation.” He turned toward the blond man wh o had abruptly walked in a few moments earlier. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” he asked.
Lockhart smiled broadly. “I’m glad to be back in the21st century!” he announced. “Oh, and I saw one of those auto-thingies slam into this poor man when I arrived a few minutes ago. In that alley back there.” He pointed toward the direction in which the corpse had been found.
Thiel took out his notebook. “Could you identify the vehicle for us?”
“Oh, I know virtually nothing about Muggle vehicles,” Lockhart said airily. “I can’t tell a station wagon from a Conestoga.”
“Anything you can tell us would be helpful,” said Thile. “You may be the only witness.”
Lockhart tried to concentrate. “There was a pathetic attempt at a magical formula on a metal plate fixed to the vehicle,” he said.
Boerne and Thiel stared at each other. “Magic formula?” Boerne mouthed silently. Thiel shrugged.
Lockhart snapped his fingers. “Yes! Let me see … MS … then two circles with pretty little designs on them … then HP … then 98.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m afraid that won’t be much use to you, but it’s all I can remember.”
Thiel pulled his phone out. “Nadezhda, I need you to look up a license plate for me,” he said.
“Thank you,” Boerne said to Lockhart. “What’s that swirly stuff immediately behind you?” The gleam of scientific discovery appeared in his eyes. “Do you actually fart those colors? How does that work? Do the colors change depending on you diet?”
“It’s an alien portal thingy,” Lockhart said. “It’s very rude and grabby!” he added before the portal snatched him away.
“if only we had a way to block the offensive that Dietrichi’s leading tomorrow,” mused Moffitt. “But despite our many brilliant and unowthodox tactics, the four of us, in our two jeeps, really cannot go up against an entire battalion.”
“If only we had some kind of help,” said Hitch, stabbing his pocketknife angrily into the ground.
A whooshing noise startled them all as the hot desert air abruptly cooled. A swirling vortex of black, blue, and purple appeared a few yards away and a man stepped out of it. “Did someone say they needed help?” he asked in a plummy British voice.
The Rats all looked around at each other and then back at the man. “Do you guys see him too?” asked Troy, ever practical. Because if this was a dream, he had some ideas what he might want to do with a gorgeous blond who appeared willing to provide … assistance. Or just ass.
Unfortunately, there was a chorus of “yeah”’s from the other Rats, so this was for real.
“Excuse me,” said Moffitt, “but what kind of assistance are you prepared to offer?”
Lockhart looked around. “This must be one of those Muggle world wars we were supposed to learn about in school,” he said. “Tiresome things,” he muttered. “Fortunately I was able to make the teacher forget I flunked that unit.”
“What?” asked Hitch.
“What?” asked Lockhart.
He walked around, scrutinizing the jeeps and the men inside, utterly unaware or uncaring that they were scrutinizing him right back. Finally, he said, “I judge that you are qualified to learn that I am a very famous and accomplished wizard, and that my considerable skills are entirely at your command.” The impressive dignity with which he delivered this speech was only slightly marred when he giggled and said, “At your command. A little military humor there, eh what?”
The Rats stared at him, more baffled than ever.
“I mean, what kind of help do you fellows need?”
Troy decided that the man was a lunatic, hopefully a harmless one. “That was a neat trick you did appearing out of that … black cloud. Would it be possible to teach us how you did it?”
Moffitt nodded. “A few dozen tanks appearing out of mid-air might be just what we need to stop that offensive,” he said.
“Oh, I’ve got no control over it whatsoever,” Lockahrt said cheerfully.l “I think it originates from a different planet altogether, to tell the truth. It could carry me away at any second! You’d better ask your favor quickly.”
Tully, who, not unusually, had been hitherto silent, spoke up. “Can you do weather magic?” he asked.
“Weather magic! Dear boy, I learnt it in my cradle!” enthused Lockhart. “I may have passe doff some other lesser types of magic as my own, but meteorology is entirely within my hweelhouse.”
Troy thought fleetingly that if this had been a dream, he would already have gotten into Lockhart’s wheelhouse, but the man was quickly becoming so annoying ht was pretty sure he’d have had to gag him first in order to enjoy the encounter. Hm, that wasn’t a bad idea, actually.
“Well …” Tully said. “I don’t know, it’s a big ask.”
“Ask away, my boy, ask away. Nothing’s too big for the talented Gilderoy Lockhart.” Troy found himself wondering it that were really true, although his wondering had nothing to do with magical requests.
“We have some important … um, soldier-y things to do tomorrow,” Tully drawled. “And a clear sky and a bright sun would make ‘em a lot easier. Any kinda storm would sink our plans fer sure.” He peered up from beneath his helmet, looking as plain and humble as he could. “Do you think you could do us that favor, sir? Magic up some good weather for us?”
The other Rats stared at Tully in disbelief, but he turned to them and winked broadly. “Trust me,” he stage-whispered.
The whole exchange went right over Lockhart’s head. “say no more, young man, say no more!” he exclaimed, pulling a wand from an inner pocket of his jacket!”
The Rats watched as he struck an even more imrpessive pose, angling his face just so, so that the rays of setting sun struck his profile perfectly as he raised his wand, waggled it this way and that, and sonorously spoke the words, “Solem evoe!”
“Shouldnl’t that be evoco?” asked Moffitt sotto voce.
“What’s the diff?” asked Troy.
“Evoco means ‘I call out,’” said Hitch. “I don’t recognize evoe.”
The spell cast by Lockhart was beignning to take effect. jA light wind had sprung up, carrying dust into the air.
“It’s an attested corruption of euhoe,” said Moffitt, which, not unusually, enlightened precisely nobody. “A traditional frenzied cry celebrating mayhem at the festivals of Bacchus.” Bits of sand joined the dust in the air as the wind began to strengthen.
“Ohhhhhh,” said Troy and Hitch simultaneously. Tully grinned.
“Get out the sandstorm equipment, guys, we’re gonna have to dig in,” said Troy.
Moffitt nodded. “HE’s whipped up a localized khamsein for us,” he said. “Just what we needed to stop Dietrich.” He looked at Tully, who was unpacking supplies from the back of one of the jeeps. “Hjow did you know wath to ask for, Tully?”
Tully shifted his matchstick from one side of his mouth fo the other. “I just … figgered. I’ve known idjits like him back home.” He shrugged. “Sometimes you can just tell.”
Lockhart began to look dismayed as he realized how badly his efforts had gone wrong. The swirling vortex opened up behind him. “Sorry, chaps!” he said with an attempt at jauntiness that soujnded rather pjitiful. “Must dash. Alien grabby thing, you know. Farewell!” The vortex, thankfully, swallowed him up.
Shen Wei returned the Doctor’s perception filter to the TARDIS and then got back to Zhao Yunlan’s office only a few seconds after he had left and they resumed performing unspeakable but highly enjoyable acts on Zhao Yunlan’s desk. A few weeks later Captain Jack visited; on the way to Zhao Yunlan’s office he greeted the staff present with a simple “Hello there” that made Lin Jing, Zhu Hong, and Da Qing all question their sexuality (het, lesbian, and ace respectively). Finally he got around to his intended partners Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, who were more than satisfied with his company.
Ray and Fraser went home together and found more interesting ways to press, slam, and jerk together that did not involved filing cabinets. Afterward, Fraser even treated Ray to the whole story about the missing elk calf, and Ray had the best sleep he’d had in years.
Although Prosecutor Klemm was initially disappointed that Thiel had somehow lost the witness who identified the car used in the hit-and-run, the driver, once found, confessed. The team went out drinking to celebrate the successful closing of the case, and Thiel and Boerne wound up making out in a booth in Krusenstern’s family’s restaurant, which everyone was used to so nobody minded.
The Rat Patrol rejoiced because Dietrich’s offensive had to be canceled because of the accidentaly sandstorm conjured by their visiting Lockhart, and Troy rejoiced because all four of them snuggled very close together while sheltering from said storm, and found that they consensually enjoyed snuggling (and extra-snuggling activities) much more than expected.
The alien grabby portal thingy finally dropped Lockhart back in his room at St. Mungo’s, where he told everyone about his adventures and they all nodded and smiled and winked behind their hands at one another. Little did they know!
Author:
amediaI am of legal drinking age in my region: Yes
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Pairings: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Jack Harkness/Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Fraser/Kowalski, Boerne/Thiel, Troy/Moffitt/Hitch/Tully. Other characters: Gilderoy Lockhart, the Doctor, plus special guest appearances by Silke Haller and Frannie Vecchio. Fandoms: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Guardian (Zhen Hun), due South, Tatort Münster, Rat Patrol.
Challenge/Prompts used: “Gilderoy Lockhart”
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart wanders through several slashy fandsom universes.
Rating/Warnings: Mature. No warnings.
Word count: 2911
Author's Notes (if any): The title comes from Rat Patrol , in the episode "The Kingdom Come Raid. At some point Mofiftt says especially charmingly “Shall we spread a little alarm and despondency?”
St. Mungo’s Hospital staff were well aware that Gilderoy Lockhart, despite his lack of mental acuity (which to be hoenst had been an ongoing problem even before he obliviated himself), still possessed a certain cunning when it came to escape attempts. Fortunately, he was sufficiently distinctive-looking that he was always spotted and returned before he managed to exit the groudns.
That is, until one day when a very different sort of Doctor who didn’t ordinarily work at St. Mungo’s came to visit and accidentally dropped a gizmo that generated a portable perception filter. Gilderoy Lockhart, never averse to petty thievery of shiny objects (one had to diversify and not just steal other people’s accomplishments), quickly picked oit up and stuffed it in his pocket. The Doctor who had lost it was puzzled for a while but then he just went back to his police box and built himself another one.
It took another month or so for Lockhart to realize that the shiny thing had alittle light on it, and several more weeks before he realized that when the light was on, no one noticed him. At first he was very put out, because being noticed was, after all, what he lived for. At least, he was pretty sure that was what he lived for. As sure as he was of anything about himself.
It ook a few more weeks for him to get over his reluctance not to be noticed because he had finally realized that he could use the device TO ESCAPE! Wheeee! He simply strolled out the front door and walked away, marveling at his own cleverness.
“I really don’t have time for this,” sighed the Doctor when the report came in that an unauthorized use of a portable perception filter had just been detected in an unmappable area of London. He flicked on a special communication device that hotlinked him to the planet Seastar. “Shen Wei, are you there?”
There was a certain amount of noise that sounded remarkably like someone extracting himself from the extremely close embrace of someone else who was reluctant to let him go. The words, “No, Zhao Yunlan, I really have to answer this,” were mumbled in the background, and then, more clearly, “Shen Wei here. Please tell me that this is an emergency, Doctor.”
“I’m afraid it is, Professor,” said the Doctor, and outlined the problem.
“Really?” Zhao Yunlan expostulated, having obviously grabbed the microphone at his end. “You can’t keep your damn gadget in your pocket?”
“I might say the same to you, Chief Zhao,” said th e Doctor, looking at his watch. “It’s about three o’clock on a Thursday faterrnoon there. Are you actdually doing this in yhour office?”
“Doing precisely what?” Zhao Yunlan answered snippily. “What are you intimating?”
“Doing Shen Wei, to be precise,” said the Doctor. “I’m intimating intimacy.”
Shen Wei sighed loudly and apparently grabbed the microphone back. “You’re not wrong. But this is still your fault for losing the filter and you owe me, big time.”
“Right, right, right,” said the Doctgor. “How about I send Captain Jack your way for a threesome?”
“Well, um …” Shen Wei began. Zhao Yunlan cut him off. “You’ve got a deal. Go on, Xiao Wei. The sooner you go, the sooner we can get back to—”
Thje Doctor hung up.
Shen Wei closed his eyes and concentrated, gathering dark energy in both hands. He looked altogether powerful and dignified except for the fact that he had thrown on Zhao Yunlan’s torn denim jacket (deliberately torn, it was made that way) over his own torn boxers (Zhao Yunlan had ripped them off a few minutes earlier).
Once he had located Gilderoy Lockhart, he transformed into the Black Cloaked Envoy (the hood, maske, and cloak fortunately covering up the jacket, the boxers, multiple hickeys, and an interesting bruise on his hip shaped exactly like the corner of Chief Zhao’s office desk), opened a portal, and stepped through it.
“Hey!” protested Gilderoy Lockhart as Shen Wei made his usual, very extra, entrance. The air grew cold, the light dimmed, and the Black Cloaked Envoy stepped o ut of a swirl of black, purple, and blue energy,
“You have something there that doesn’t belong to you,” said the Envoy, his voice low and menacing.
Gilderoy Lockhart pouted. “You noticed me,” he said in a wounded voice. “And you’re prettier than I am.”
Shen Wei sighed. It was hard to stay mad at this forlorn and gormless individual. “There, there,” he said. “I’m from another planet. You’re still the pretties one on this planet.”
Lockhart immediately smiled and turned his head slightly so that the sun would glint off his teeth.
“Now give me the device,” Shen Wei said.
“Do I hafta?” Lockhart whined.
Shen Wei decided he’d better revert back to the Black Cloaked Envoy voice, which was only one step shy of the full menace of his Teacher Voice. “You must,” he intoned.
Lockhart sighed, pulled out the shiny gizmo, and handed it over. “Oh, hey,” he said, noticing what else was in his inner jacket pocket. “I have a wand! Want to see a magic trick?”
“No, I really don’t,” sighed Shen Wei, speaking normally again. “Goodbye.”
Lockhart waved the wand experimentally at the portal as it closed behing Shen Wei. To his delight, itopened up again, although Shen Wei did not reappear. J”Hey, maybe I can use this!” Lockhart exclaimed, and walked into the swirling energies.
Ray Kowalski grunted softly as Benton Fraser pushed hard against him, then jerked back, slammed even harder one last time, then suddenly held still.
“Thanks, Frase,” said Ray. “Just what I needed.”
“Any time, Ray,” said Fraser, pulling out the drawer that had been rusted shut. “These filing cabinets should have been replaced a long time ago.
There was an odd sound from outside. “Is it just me, or is it suddenly cold in here?” asked Ray.
“It is definitely not just you, Ray,” said Fraser. “This particular chill reminds me of a a time when I helped a group of native youngsters track down a missing elk calf. It was a spring day, but there was a persistent breeze bearing the distinct scent of snow, and—”
A blond man in an elaborate, old-fashioned suit with a dramatic veltvet cape walked into the room. Ray held up a hand to stop Fraser, as indeed he had been wanting to, and said, “May we help you?”
“Perhaps?” said the man, looking around. “I’m not sure where I am. And oh, my, look at the fashions. This is most certainly not the twenty-first century. Some people say it’s impossible to distinguish Muggle fashions of the nineties from the oughty-oughts, but to those of us with a keen eye, they’re like night and day!” He looked Ray in particular up and down with a critical eye. “Hmm, perhaps 1996?”
Frannie walked in carrying a stack of files and noticed Lockhart. “Well, hello there!” she said warmly.
“1998!” he said, eyeing her outfit.
“$19.98???” she scoffed. “Look, buster, this dress was $45 HALF PRICE. I’m not some floozy who shops at Ross Dress-for-Less.” She tossed her hair and walked out, her heels clicking firmly on the floor.
Ray chuckled. “You’re right about the year. But wow, for such a good-lookin’ guy, you’re not so good with the ladies, are ya?”
“I do seem to have made a faux pas,” mused Lockhart.
“Quite a solecism,” agreed Fraser. “But perhaps it is more important to observe that there appears to be a swirling vortex forming in the air immediately behind you.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lockhart cheerfully. “It’s some sort of alien portal thingy. It’ll grab me at any moment. I’m afriad this means goodbye!” He waved as the portal moved closer and saved him from further embarrassment by swallowing him right up.
“What are you doing here?” snapped Boerne. “You’re not dead. Get out of my morgue.” He was standing in front of a table on which lay a very fresh corpse indeed. His assistant, Haller, was cutting the corpse’s bloody clothing off, murmuring “blunt force trauma,” as she worked.
“Wait a moment,” said Thiel. “Maybe he’s here to help with the investigation.” He turned toward the blond man wh o had abruptly walked in a few moments earlier. “Is there anything you want to tell us?” he asked.
Lockhart smiled broadly. “I’m glad to be back in the21st century!” he announced. “Oh, and I saw one of those auto-thingies slam into this poor man when I arrived a few minutes ago. In that alley back there.” He pointed toward the direction in which the corpse had been found.
Thiel took out his notebook. “Could you identify the vehicle for us?”
“Oh, I know virtually nothing about Muggle vehicles,” Lockhart said airily. “I can’t tell a station wagon from a Conestoga.”
“Anything you can tell us would be helpful,” said Thile. “You may be the only witness.”
Lockhart tried to concentrate. “There was a pathetic attempt at a magical formula on a metal plate fixed to the vehicle,” he said.
Boerne and Thiel stared at each other. “Magic formula?” Boerne mouthed silently. Thiel shrugged.
Lockhart snapped his fingers. “Yes! Let me see … MS … then two circles with pretty little designs on them … then HP … then 98.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m afraid that won’t be much use to you, but it’s all I can remember.”
Thiel pulled his phone out. “Nadezhda, I need you to look up a license plate for me,” he said.
“Thank you,” Boerne said to Lockhart. “What’s that swirly stuff immediately behind you?” The gleam of scientific discovery appeared in his eyes. “Do you actually fart those colors? How does that work? Do the colors change depending on you diet?”
“It’s an alien portal thingy,” Lockhart said. “It’s very rude and grabby!” he added before the portal snatched him away.
“if only we had a way to block the offensive that Dietrichi’s leading tomorrow,” mused Moffitt. “But despite our many brilliant and unowthodox tactics, the four of us, in our two jeeps, really cannot go up against an entire battalion.”
“If only we had some kind of help,” said Hitch, stabbing his pocketknife angrily into the ground.
A whooshing noise startled them all as the hot desert air abruptly cooled. A swirling vortex of black, blue, and purple appeared a few yards away and a man stepped out of it. “Did someone say they needed help?” he asked in a plummy British voice.
The Rats all looked around at each other and then back at the man. “Do you guys see him too?” asked Troy, ever practical. Because if this was a dream, he had some ideas what he might want to do with a gorgeous blond who appeared willing to provide … assistance. Or just ass.
Unfortunately, there was a chorus of “yeah”’s from the other Rats, so this was for real.
“Excuse me,” said Moffitt, “but what kind of assistance are you prepared to offer?”
Lockhart looked around. “This must be one of those Muggle world wars we were supposed to learn about in school,” he said. “Tiresome things,” he muttered. “Fortunately I was able to make the teacher forget I flunked that unit.”
“What?” asked Hitch.
“What?” asked Lockhart.
He walked around, scrutinizing the jeeps and the men inside, utterly unaware or uncaring that they were scrutinizing him right back. Finally, he said, “I judge that you are qualified to learn that I am a very famous and accomplished wizard, and that my considerable skills are entirely at your command.” The impressive dignity with which he delivered this speech was only slightly marred when he giggled and said, “At your command. A little military humor there, eh what?”
The Rats stared at him, more baffled than ever.
“I mean, what kind of help do you fellows need?”
Troy decided that the man was a lunatic, hopefully a harmless one. “That was a neat trick you did appearing out of that … black cloud. Would it be possible to teach us how you did it?”
Moffitt nodded. “A few dozen tanks appearing out of mid-air might be just what we need to stop that offensive,” he said.
“Oh, I’ve got no control over it whatsoever,” Lockahrt said cheerfully.l “I think it originates from a different planet altogether, to tell the truth. It could carry me away at any second! You’d better ask your favor quickly.”
Tully, who, not unusually, had been hitherto silent, spoke up. “Can you do weather magic?” he asked.
“Weather magic! Dear boy, I learnt it in my cradle!” enthused Lockhart. “I may have passe doff some other lesser types of magic as my own, but meteorology is entirely within my hweelhouse.”
Troy thought fleetingly that if this had been a dream, he would already have gotten into Lockhart’s wheelhouse, but the man was quickly becoming so annoying ht was pretty sure he’d have had to gag him first in order to enjoy the encounter. Hm, that wasn’t a bad idea, actually.
“Well …” Tully said. “I don’t know, it’s a big ask.”
“Ask away, my boy, ask away. Nothing’s too big for the talented Gilderoy Lockhart.” Troy found himself wondering it that were really true, although his wondering had nothing to do with magical requests.
“We have some important … um, soldier-y things to do tomorrow,” Tully drawled. “And a clear sky and a bright sun would make ‘em a lot easier. Any kinda storm would sink our plans fer sure.” He peered up from beneath his helmet, looking as plain and humble as he could. “Do you think you could do us that favor, sir? Magic up some good weather for us?”
The other Rats stared at Tully in disbelief, but he turned to them and winked broadly. “Trust me,” he stage-whispered.
The whole exchange went right over Lockhart’s head. “say no more, young man, say no more!” he exclaimed, pulling a wand from an inner pocket of his jacket!”
The Rats watched as he struck an even more imrpessive pose, angling his face just so, so that the rays of setting sun struck his profile perfectly as he raised his wand, waggled it this way and that, and sonorously spoke the words, “Solem evoe!”
“Shouldnl’t that be evoco?” asked Moffitt sotto voce.
“What’s the diff?” asked Troy.
“Evoco means ‘I call out,’” said Hitch. “I don’t recognize evoe.”
The spell cast by Lockhart was beignning to take effect. jA light wind had sprung up, carrying dust into the air.
“It’s an attested corruption of euhoe,” said Moffitt, which, not unusually, enlightened precisely nobody. “A traditional frenzied cry celebrating mayhem at the festivals of Bacchus.” Bits of sand joined the dust in the air as the wind began to strengthen.
“Ohhhhhh,” said Troy and Hitch simultaneously. Tully grinned.
“Get out the sandstorm equipment, guys, we’re gonna have to dig in,” said Troy.
Moffitt nodded. “HE’s whipped up a localized khamsein for us,” he said. “Just what we needed to stop Dietrich.” He looked at Tully, who was unpacking supplies from the back of one of the jeeps. “Hjow did you know wath to ask for, Tully?”
Tully shifted his matchstick from one side of his mouth fo the other. “I just … figgered. I’ve known idjits like him back home.” He shrugged. “Sometimes you can just tell.”
Lockhart began to look dismayed as he realized how badly his efforts had gone wrong. The swirling vortex opened up behind him. “Sorry, chaps!” he said with an attempt at jauntiness that soujnded rather pjitiful. “Must dash. Alien grabby thing, you know. Farewell!” The vortex, thankfully, swallowed him up.
Shen Wei returned the Doctor’s perception filter to the TARDIS and then got back to Zhao Yunlan’s office only a few seconds after he had left and they resumed performing unspeakable but highly enjoyable acts on Zhao Yunlan’s desk. A few weeks later Captain Jack visited; on the way to Zhao Yunlan’s office he greeted the staff present with a simple “Hello there” that made Lin Jing, Zhu Hong, and Da Qing all question their sexuality (het, lesbian, and ace respectively). Finally he got around to his intended partners Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, who were more than satisfied with his company.
Ray and Fraser went home together and found more interesting ways to press, slam, and jerk together that did not involved filing cabinets. Afterward, Fraser even treated Ray to the whole story about the missing elk calf, and Ray had the best sleep he’d had in years.
Although Prosecutor Klemm was initially disappointed that Thiel had somehow lost the witness who identified the car used in the hit-and-run, the driver, once found, confessed. The team went out drinking to celebrate the successful closing of the case, and Thiel and Boerne wound up making out in a booth in Krusenstern’s family’s restaurant, which everyone was used to so nobody minded.
The Rat Patrol rejoiced because Dietrich’s offensive had to be canceled because of the accidentaly sandstorm conjured by their visiting Lockhart, and Troy rejoiced because all four of them snuggled very close together while sheltering from said storm, and found that they consensually enjoyed snuggling (and extra-snuggling activities) much more than expected.
The alien grabby portal thingy finally dropped Lockhart back in his room at St. Mungo’s, where he told everyone about his adventures and they all nodded and smiled and winked behind their hands at one another. Little did they know!