This first one is a Modesty Blaise crossover I started but never finished. Can't now remember what the title was about, since Bringers didn't have eyes! Spot the Good Omens reference.
This is a crossover between Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Modesty Blaise comic strips and stories (not the god-awful film!). The story is set early in BtVS season seven, and there are spoilers for the season. Modesty and Willie are as described in most of the novels and stories, in their twenties or early thirties. The events of the novels up to Dragon's Claw have already occurred.
By Marcus L. Rowland
Willie Garvin was waiting in the underground car park under Modesty's apartment block when he noticed the girl. Sitting behind the wheel of Modesty's Jensen, idling the engine, he was looking for a CD and idly wondering where three copies of "Best of Queen" had come from when the lift doors opened and she ran out. She was in her teens, much too young for him, and looked terrified. As soon as the doors opened she was running, away from the lift and towards the Jensen. A second later the staircase doors banged open four stocky brown-robed figures ran out, curved knives in their hands, and started to chase her. He couldn't see faces under their hoods.
"In here", he shouted, swinging the door open, but the girl ignored him and vaulted the car, her boot-heels thumping on the bonnet as she used it as a platform to jump onto the roof of a van. Willie blinked; that second leap would be difficult for any athlete. The hooded figures were close now, and he could see their faces; crossed slits replacing eyes, mutilated or wearing prosthetic makeup. One of them ran towards him, swinging its knife for a savage blow, as the others pursued the girl. Willie knew they were heading for a dead end.
Willie didn't have time for games; as the figure attacked he flick-threw one of his knives, aiming it for the heart. He didn't bother to watch the result, just slammed the car into gear and took off after the other three. One was lagging a little behind the others, and Willie steered to hit him with the open door. There was a satisfying thud as it went down and the door swung closed with a quiet click.The other two were ahead, advancing on the cornered girl, who seemed to have finally run out of breath. Willy muttered "Sorry, Princess", aimed the car for one of the brown-robes, and accelerated.
Willie was wearing his seat-belt, and didn't expect to be hurt by the impact, but for a second he'd forgotten that air-bags had been fitted the last time the car was overhauled. They inflated, pinning Willie against the seat as the engine stalled. A little dazed, he struggled to draw his knife and cut through the bag as the last brown-robe moved in on the girl.
Something twanged, and the last brown-robe went down, the shaft of a crossbow bolt protruding from its back. As Willie finally got free a tweed-clad figure holding a crossbow kneeled near the girl and said "Are you all right?"
"Who the 'ell are you?" asked Willie, "And what the 'ell are those things?"
"Giles. Rupert Giles. I'm sorry, this must all seem rather odd, but I can assure you that there's a good explanation." He turned back to the girl, saying "I'm sorry to rush you, Miss Saunders, but you are in considerable danger if you remain here." She looked up at him warily. "Rupert Giles, Watchers' Council."
Behind him Willie heard stealthy footsteps, and turned to find one of the brown-robes about to lunge at him with its knife. Willie dodged the blade, kicked its knee, and followed up with a blow to the kidneys that would disable any normal man. It felt like hitting wood, and the... creature, whatever it was... barely staggered before twisting round to attack again.
"Go for the upper torso, they're vulnerable there," shouted Giles, scrabbling to reload his crossbow.
"Thanks." As it came back Willie dodged again and slammed his knife into the back of its neck. It convulsed, fell, and lay still.
"That works too," said Giles calmly, helping the girl to her feet. "Mister...?"
"Garvin. Willie Garvin." He waited to see if there was a reaction.
"I know that name from somewhere... are you a friend of Stephen Collier?"
"Pleasure to meet you."
There was an odd noise, like water draining from a plug, and the body seemed to dissolve into nauseating slime, which slowly evaporated as dull brown smoke, leaving a ragged brown robe and an elaborate curved dagger behind it.
"All right, what the hell's going on here?" asked Willie.
"And what on earth's happened to my car?" asked Modesty. She had Willie's knife and two of the curved daggers in one hand, and her MAB automatic in the other.
"Err... it's rather a long story," said Giles.
"Why don't you come up to the penthouse and tell us all about it," said Modesty. Somehow Giles knew that she wasn't planning to take "no" for an answer.
Not sure where that one was going, but I eventually decided not to bother going there.
The second one was the first idea I had for a Sopranos crossover, eventually decided too many other people had done variants on this idea:
By Marcus L. Rowland
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Sopranos crossover.
This story contains spoilers for BtVS season 7, and is set roughly at the time of Conversations With Dead People; it's well outside the continuity of The Sopranos, but roughly speaking takes place some time in season 2.
All characters are, as usual, the copyright of their respective creators. This story may not be distributed for profit-making purposes.
One girl in all the world, a Chosen One...
- Rupert Giles, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
You woke up this morning
Got yourself a gun,
Mama always said you'd be
The Chosen One...
- The Sopranos opening credits
Meadow Soprano was working on an essay in her room at Georgetown University when she felt something odd, a jolt like electricity that made her whole body tingle. She looked around suspiciously, decided that she wasn't touching anything that could have given her a shock, and concluded that it must have been static, or her imagination. About two minutes later her computer began to beep for incoming mail. She ignored it, preferring to concentrate on the stack of text-books on her desk. It beeped again, louder, then began to play the William Tell overture.
"What the hell?" She looked at the screen. Instead of the usual flashing icon, the entire screen was flashing red then white, with the words 'Urgent Message' replacing the desktop. "Oh great, another friggin virus."
It wasn't going to shut up, so she went over to try to shut it down. As her fingers brushed against the mouse the desktop reappeared, then a video-conferencing window opened in mid-screen, showing a red-headed girl who looked anxious. "Finally! Listen, you're in great danger."
"What the hell?"
"Shut up and listen, I'm trying to save your life. This is difficult to explain, and there isn't much time. About two minutes ago you felt an electric shock. That was how I located you. There are others who can do that, and some of them want to kill you."
"What? Why me?" Somehow Meadow knew she was telling the truth.
"There are reasons, no time to explain them. For now you need to get to safety. Anywhere that can be defended, or where people will protect you. Don't try to hide in crowds, they don't care if they kill innocent bystanders. The guys who are after you dress in brown robes, look like mad monks. They're killers. I'm sending you an e-mail address, copy it down." It appeared on screen - Meadow copied it, email@example.com. "When you've got to safety send me mail, let me know where you are. I'll get someone out to you who can explain things."
"What is this? Has it got something to do with my father?"
"Listen, I have no idea who you are, or who your father is. That isn't the point. Now get moving, and if you reach safety contact me. If all else fails, you're a lot stronger and faster than you think you are. Move it!" The screen went black.
Meadow thought for a second, then picked up the phone and dialled her father.
That one was going to be a high body count gangster movie, but it just didn't seem to work.
This last one is something that I started then shelved a few days ago. It would have been the prequel to my Drabble Green but I really don't want to reread all the comics that would have been needed to make it work. Maybe one day I'll do something with it, but not in this form. I think that the context is the Justice League Europe comic (back when it was funny).
Justice League Europe Embassy, Paris - Monitor Room
"Gate here," said the bored security guard, "I have a visitor for Wonder Woman, is she around?"
"I'll have to check," said Wally West, "I think so, but I haven't seen her around. Who's the visitor?"
"Some girl. Says Zatanna sent her."
"Got a name?"
"Okay. Let's see if she has an appointment." Wally switched to a camera showing the gate and the girl standing at the security booth. Brunette, late teens, attractive. Very attractive. Nobody he recognised, but that's what the computer was for. He typed in the name and waited for the result. Eventually, it seemed geological ages to the Flash but was actually a second or so, a report appeared on the screen.
SUMMERS, DAWN (96% probability match)
Residence: Rome, Italy (Formerly Sunnydale, California)
Occupation: Student (Attained GED grades in the top ten percentile, now studying art, ancient languages, archaeology)
Affiliations: 85% probability member of non-registered vigilante group led by sister SUMMERS, BUFFY (AKA The Slayer), formerly based Sunnydale, CA., now believed international in scope. Group allegedly supernatural warriors against vampires, demons, etc.
Known associate of ROSENBERG, WILLOW, grade VI (estimated) mage. Believed to be responsible for Sunnydale, CA spatio-temporal distortion (2003), see Sunnydale Disaster, Hellmouth Closure.
Powers: None known - gives positive result on metahuman detector scans, but bloodwork tests negative for the metahuman gene. Possible dormant mystical / non-metahuman powers.
Criminal record: None
Medical record: Lost in destruction of Sunnydale, nothing subsequent.
Notes: DS seems to be the most normal member of her group of associates. "Normal" in this case means normal compared to the most powerful Wicca in the Western hemisphere (W Rosenberg), a supernatural warrior who has allegedly killed in excess of a thousand vampires and demons and at least one god and returned from the grave on two occasions (B Summers), two vampires with souls, and an estimated hundred-plus female warriors associated with them.
That's all, folks.
If anyone wants to do something with any of this stuff let me know - I really doubt I'm ever going to go back to them.