Marcus L. Rowland (ffutures) wrote,
Marcus L. Rowland

Fanfic - DC / NCIS / West Wing - The Return XIII

Multiple crossover, so far the crosses are NCIS / West Wing / DC comics (movieverse), possibly more to come.

Previous parts are archived here

Multiple crossover; DC Movieverse / NCIS / West Wing / possibly more to come. See the first chapter for disclaimers etc.

The Return

by Marcus L. Rowland


Daily Planet, Metropolis, Wednesday, Noon EST

“Clark? This is Linda.”

Although Kara was calling his secure cell-phone, Clark was surprised that she was using her new name. He automatically looked around to check that nobody was listening in before saying “Linda? Hi, what can I do for you?”

“I just had an idea. I know you want to hold off on the cousin thing a while longer in Metropolis, but I’m throwing a pool party for a few friends on Sunday as Linda; it might be nice if my cousin from Metropolis just happened to be in the neighbourhood and dropped in for a couple of hours, help to establish my background here.”

“Organising that could be tricky. And I thought you were house-sitting; does the owner know you’re throwing parties?”

“The owner gave me permission provided there’s no damage, nothing goes missing, and nobody tampers with his guitars. He’s a rock star, remember, he expects there to be parties! Anyway, you won’t need a complicated cover, just say you’re in town on a story. Nobody will check. You’re, ‘like old and married.’” She flawlessly imitated a Californian accent. “If any of them do dig older men the wedding ring ought to put them off. Come along in civilian clothes, take a swim, do your best ninety pound weakling impersonation, it’ll help me a lot. Hey, isn’t it Jason’s weekend with Richard? Why not bring Lois too? Maybe come down on Saturday, stay overnight in one of the guest suites and take it easy for a change.”

“I don’t know… what if one of the guests happens to mention me in a blog or something?”

“Then say that Superman gave you a lift – or if you want to do things the hard way, use some frequent flyer miles. There’s beautiful weather, an Olympic-sized swimming pool and a Jacuzzi, a barbecue, tennis court, fifty inch plasma TVs and cable... C’mon, Clark, what’s not to like? I’d really like to see you guys when we’re not both rushing around rescuing someone!”

Despite himself, Clark found himself grinning. “I’ll find out what Lois has planned, and if it’s possible I’ll get back to you.”

Long Beach, California, Saturday, 9.30 AM PST

Kara was in the kitchen unpacking the last bag of shopping when the gate bell rang; she looked through a couple of walls and saw a taxi with Lois and Clark in the back seat, with a surprisingly large amount of luggage in the trunk, considering that Clark had probably flown them in to LA. She pressed the button to open the gates then went to the car-port to meet them.

“Cousin Clark! Lois! It’s been months! Come in!” She ran to Clark at the slow crawl of normal human speed, hugged him, then turned to Lois and kissed her, while Clark paid the driver and helped unload the luggage.

“Linda,” said Lois, “it’s so good to see you. I just can’t believe this house. How on earth did you get it?”

Kara nodded her approval of the use of her new name, and said “Nigel – that’s the guy who owns the place – well, his dog ran away and I brought her back. He wanted to give me a reward, when I turned him down he asked me if I wanted to sleep with a rock star but he wasn’t really serious, after I said no to that he offered me lunch instead. Anyway, we got to talking and it turned out that he’s actually quite a nice guy, apart from being about three times my age.”

Kara went back out and brought in the last of the luggage. “So he mentioned that they were getting ready for their latest comeback tour, but their drummer had some sort of weird accident at the Hollywood Bowl.”

“I was there,” said Clark, “poor guy had to be flown to hospital by Superman.”

“That meant that Nigel had to go back to Britain two weeks early, so that they could audition for a replacement and have some practice sessions. He was looking for a house sitter when we met; once I’d shown him some references to keep his insurers happy he gave me the job.”

“You certainly had some luck there,” said Lois.

“Let me show you up to your suite, then why not get changed and come on down to the pool? Have you had breakfast?”

“We ate before we left Metropolis,” said Clark, “but I think we could both go for coffee.”

“Okay,” said Kara, leading the way upstairs and carrying four suitcases, “you’re along here on the left. You’ve got your own balcony and bathroom, the bed has motorised adjustment for posture, massages and vibrates, and there’s an entertainment system behind the picture there.” She pressed a button, and the picture rose to reveal a plasma screen, DVD player, and a complicated-looking stereo.

“It’s huge,” said Lois. “You could fit most of our apartment in here.”

“I’ll leave you to settle in, but remember, you’re going to chill out for once. Swimsuits, not work clothes, and leave your phones and your laptops upstairs. If you’re worried about missing an emergency leave the radio on.” As she spoke she traced the letters ‘U R BUGGED’ in the air. Once she was sure that they’d got the message she left them, and went down to make the coffee.


“I think that if I stay in here much longer I’m going to shrivel like a prune,” Lois said an hour later, reaching out of the Jacuzzi to refill her drink.

“You’re fine,” said Kara, “and it’s so nice to relax for a change.” Lowering her voice, to be sure that the noise of the tub and the radio in Lois and Clark’s suite would cover it, she added “Okay, that’s what I think is going on.”

“I’m still not convinced,” said Clark. “There has to be another explanation.”

“I think Kara’s made a good case,” said Lois, “and she’s right to say that it needs to be investigated. It does explain one hell of a lot; not just Luthor, but things that happened much earlier.”

“Nobody’s saying that we should act without proof,” said Kara, “we just need to come up with a plan to get the proof, something that will draw him out into the open and won’t cause a disaster.”

“Well,” said Clark. “If… and I stress if… you’re right, I think that you’re going to have to make most of the running. He must know everything about Lois and me by now, if we do anything too far out of the ordinary he’ll notice. You’re much less of a known quantity.”

“It won’t be easy, however we do it. If I’m right he’s certain to fight back, and he’s had years to prepare. I’m going to need help.”

“So where were you thinking of starting?” asked Lois.

“I thought maybe the White House.”

“I’ll give you one thing,” said Clark, “you don’t think small.”

Kara pulled herself out of the pool and in a louder voice said “Damn it, I knew I’d forgotten something. You guys stay here and relax; I’m going to have to hit the shops again. I can’t believe I forgot fresh fruit.”

Santa Monica, California, 10.50 AM PST

C.J. Cregg was having a late breakfast with her husband, Danny Concannon, when there was a knock at the door. These days she didn’t rate a Secret Service guard, but the house was inside a gated community; any visitor from outside would be announced by security, so it was probably a neighbour. “You get it.”

“Mmmmph?” said Danny, immersed in the Washington Post.

“Get the door.”

“You’re nearer.”

“You’ve finished eating.”

“No I haven’t, I’m taking a moment to digest.”

“Get the door, Danny.”

Danny folded the paper with the air of a martyr and went out. C.J. stole some of his hash browns and filled in four clues on her own paper’s crossword, a corner of her brain noticing the murmur of voices, then Danny came back into the kitchen. “We have a visitor.”

C.J. looked up, saw a young woman wearing a summer dress, wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, and said “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Kara, taking off the hat and sunglasses and shaking out her hair. C.J. recognised her instantly. “I was hoping that you could help me with something.”

“And that’s what you get for not answering the door yourself,” said Danny. “I want the exclusive.”

Santa Monica, California, Wednesday, 12.30 PM PST

“Hello, Donna.”

“C.J.? I thought you were in California.”

“I am, but I’ll be in Washington on Monday. I was hoping that husband of yours might be able to give me a few minutes, but his secretary says he’s tied up all day.”

“Josh is pretty busy right now, with the summit coming up.”

“It’ll be worth his while to see me.”

Suddenly Donna sounded more alert: “Can you be more specific?”

“I’ve had an interesting foreign contact, someone who wants to stay off the record and under the radar, and asked me to set up a meeting.”


“I can neither confirm nor deny. Not over the phone.”

“I’ll get him to clear a slot and call you back.”

“Thanks - talk to you soon.”

Once she was off the phone, Danny said “Cuba?”

“Castro can’t last much longer, the guy’s eighty-one and a heavy smoker. I don’t think that their government’s necessarily going to fold once he quits or dies, but they’ve contacted us under the table at least once, some sort of covert deal has to be a possibility.”

“Do you think Josh will be disappointed when he finds out what you really want?”

“I hope not. But when I was Chief of Staff, if I got a call from… oh, let’s say President Lassiter’s old Chief of Staff… saying what I just said, I would have been interested in whatever he wanted to say, whether or not it was what I expected.”

Long Beach, California, Sunday, 2.30 PM PST

“…check out the pizza, Lester. There’s like seven different kinds of cheese!”
“…and you are so an insensitive jerk, Logan, coming to a party in a ‘Kneel Before Zod’ t-shirt when there are people from Metropolis here…”
“…so Dawn turns to Celeste and says ‘yes, we look alike, but on me it looks good!’”
“…sold his Cyberdyne shares and invested in Zeiratech, he’s doubled his money…”
“…and Playboy raised their offer to a quarter million but Supergirl doesn’t want to know…”
“…P3 is so over-rated…”
“…do that in Texas, they’ll lynch you.”
“…no, he used to be Sheriff but he was fired after the murder, now he’s a…”
“…working at the Buy-More until something better comes along...”
“…great nachos, Linda!”
“…statistical analysis based on flocking algorithms to find…”
“…really fond of animals...”

“So what do you think, Clark?”

It took Clark a moment to tune out the music and the other voices at the party and mentally replay the question. “Sorry, think of what, Lois?”

“Linda’s friends?”

“Let’s see; twenty-somethings… mostly intelligent, well-educated, attractive women. Not much of a surprise. Most of them seem to like dogs and children but aren’t married; their boyfriends mostly seem to be idiots, a couple of very bright exceptions.”

“Linda doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in any of the boys.”

“She’s young; Mister Right will come along sooner or later. I’m pretty sure she isn’t gay. Not that it would be any of our business,” he added hastily, “she’s old enough to make up her own mind about that sort of thing... and she’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?”

“You guessed,” said Linda, proffering a tray of beers, soft drinks and snacks. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I’m not answering, because it really isn’t your business, but I’m not offended. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“It’s different,” said Lois. “Most of the parties we go to these days, you can’t hear the music for the screaming kids. And the ones that aren’t like that tend to be a lot more formal.”

“I think I like pool parties better... one of the advantages of living on the West Coast.”

“You’re thinking of staying out here?”

“I don’t have any good reason to go back to Chicago with my parents gone...” Clark noticed that a couple of the guests were close enough to overhear “...and while I can’t really hope to get into CalTech, UCLA or maybe UC Irvine would be a good fit for college, if I can get my act together and get admitted next year. It’s a shame I won’t be closer to you and Jason, but that’s what frequent flier miles are for.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Clark, remembering to play along with the revised version of Linda’s origin, “things were pretty rough in Chicago with that Vance thing, I can’t blame you for wanting to move on. I just hope you can afford it.”

“There’s a gadget I want to patent, should bring in a few thousand if I’m lucky, and I’ve got ideas for a couple of money-making schemes… don’t worry, they’re legal.”

“I should hope so,” said Lois. “Your aunt Martha will have words to say if they’re not.”

“I won’t be too happy either,” said Clark, tongue in cheek.

“Relax. Only maybe not too much, you don’t want to miss your flight.”

“We’ve got a couple of hours to go, and we’re mostly packed. But we’d better not leave it too late; tomorrow’s going to be a pretty busy day.”

The White House, Monday 2.30 PM EST

“CJ,” said Josh, “Donna seems to think that you might have some interesting news from our Caribbean neighbours.”

“I didn’t actually say that,” said CJ Cregg. “As I told her, I had a caller on Saturday. She needs to talk to the President, but she can’t be seen to initiate the contact, it has to come from the White House. Preferably, it needs to look like something innocuous, say lunch with the First Lady.”



“Supergirl? Supergirl wants to talk to the President but wants to keep it secret? What the hell’s going on?”

“She thinks she knows who kidnapped Lex Luthor. And it’s apparently very bad news.”

“How bad?”

“She didn’t tell me much, but she did mention one thing she might need to handle the situation.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“A nuke.”

To Be Continued

Gratuitous crossover references in this chapter:

Nigel, the rock star with the accident prone drummer
- This is Spinal Tap

“…check out the pizza, Lester. There’s like seven different kinds of cheese!”
“…working at the Buy-More until something better comes along...”
- Chuck.

“…and you are so an insensitive jerk, Logan, coming to a party in a ‘Kneel Before Zod’ t-shirt when there are people from Metropolis here…”
“…do that in Texas, they’ll lynch you.”
“…no, he used to be Sheriff but he was fired after the murder, now he’s a…”
- Veronica Mars

“…so Dawn turns to Celeste and says ‘yes, we look alike, but on me it looks good!’”
- Buffy and Six Feet Under (Michelle Trachtenberg played Dawn in Buffy and Celeste in 6FU)

“…sold his Cyberdyne shares and invested in Zeiratech, he’s doubled his money…”
- Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

“…P3 is so over-rated…”
- Charmed

“…statistical analysis based on flocking algorithms to find…”
- Numb3rs

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Tags: dc, fanfic, ncis, west wing

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