A and Lucas North
By Leah Day
Summary
An AU Atman and Spooks cross over.
A's book is causing trouble in the United Kingdom. B, concerned for his patient, calls Mi5 for help.
Can Lucas North stop her from writing or will A continue on her path of destruction?
Disclaimer
I do not own a thing. Rated PG for angst.
Written using British and New Zealand English. I'm half kiwi so I figured it was time to have a crack at the kiwi side of English.
A's flat, the lounge room
A was a pretty woman in her mid twenties. Her face consisted of Doe like eyes and a soft pillow like mouth that curved into a welcoming smile when she greeted him after opening her door.
"Come in," she said without any trepidation what so ever.
Lucas felt a chill go down his spine.
Surely she didn't know why he was here.
"Did you write this?" he asked A as they headed into her small, neat kitchen.
The auburn, with blonde streaks, haired woman arched an eyebrow.
"Pardon?"
"Did you want me to come to you?" he prompted carefully.
Her brow farrowed deeply, she paused in consideration then shook her head.
"No. But perhaps I should have. You are pretty crash hot. I have to wonder if you're related to that bloke on the telly. The one Geraldine Grianger married."
He shook his head.
"No relation of mine," he replied quietly.
"You came to my library looking for William Blake once," A continued, opening the fridge door, looking for milk.
"You're an odd person," he said watching her sniff the bottle and decide the milk was still fresh.
A yawned into her hand then shrugged her shoulders which were covered by a baby pink cardi and cyan skivvy.
Passing him a steaming mug, she leant against her kitchen counter.
"Why?" she then asked, blue eyes wide like a child's.
"Why?"
"Why am I an odd person?"
"You have more money then your average UK Liberian gets and yet you live in a rented flat in cheap side," he replied.
"It's comfy," she answered nonchalantly. "Speaking of comfy, let's go into the lounge. I'm being rude. I'll chuck the heater on."
OoO
"B sent you, didn't he?"
"Technically the head of Mi5 sent me," Lucas corrected. "But your …. Therapist did put in the call to him."
She chuckled, nursing her mug of coffee in her slender pale hands.
"That's because the people he sent in to section me decided to go home after tea and biscuits."
Lucas leaned forward.
"Where is the book?" he asked her.
A's eyes darkened. Her sensuous lips curled backward.
"Clearly it's here," Lucas continued casually. "You'd need to keep it close by in case you needed to write something down."
A blinked.
"You don't look like a terrorist," he said.
The young woman burst out laughing.
"That's like saying someone doesn't look gay or Jewish!"
She grinned at him, her blue eyes dancing merrily.
"What does a terrorist look like?" she asked. "Tell me."
Lucas was at a loss for words. He could say not as innocent as she was, but that would be a falsehood.
"They don't look like you," he said simply, directly.
A bowed her head.
"I don't want to be a terrorist," she admitted quietly.
"Then give me the book."
A's placid ness turned to a seething rage.
"The book is mine!" she snarled at him, dulcet pale eyes becoming a hardened sapphire.
Lucas, although knowing the danger, refused to back down.
"Give me the book," he persisted. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want the book."
"Why can't you see?" A cried. "Why can't any one see that before I found the book my life was abysmal? The book changed everything! I don't want to give it up! I'll die if I do!"
Lucas frowned at her, confused.
'I'll die if I do,'
"Are you saying that if you don't keep writing you'll die?" he asked carefully.
A nodded vigorously.
"When I first found the book … I noticed that it was all about me," she told him breathlessly, eager for him to understand. "Everything in it was one hundred percent accurate! And when I got the last few pages I realised that it seemed to stop in present day … B suggested that I take control and change it. Fill in the blanks!"
She laughed again. The sound was a mixture of joy and cynicism.
"I was so alone … All I ever wanted was to be someone who was loved and noticed. I didn't want to be a boring, lonely Liberian anymore …."
A paused then laughed a third time, tears swiftly fell down her reddened cheeks.
"Take control of your life and your bloody shrink sends the Spooks after you!" she leered, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand.
Lucas sat back in his chair, oddly more observant of his tea then the woman sitting opposite him.
Harry had told him to shoot the woman if she refused to give up the book.
But surely … Surely there had to be another way.
"What if I wrote in the book?" he asked finally.
A's blue eyes widened in shock.
"You want to write in the book?" she asked disbelievingly. "In my book?"
Now she really was feeling threatened.
How on earth could she determine her fate if she allowed this stranger, a Spook nonetheless, access to her oh so valuable lifeline?
"I'll write something for you. You'll never have to worry about the book again," Lucas promised.
"You'll kill me!" she spat furiously.
"I will not kill you."
"You're lying!" A snarled vehemently. "I know you are! You're just as bad as B!"
She started to rise from the chair.
Setting his mug aside, the Section chief leaned forward in his seat.
"I want you to watch what I write," he said.
She bit her lip, eying him warily.
"You're joking."
"It's either this or a bullet in the head from Zero nineteen. Take it or leave it."
"I thought you said you wouldn't kill me."
Lucas raked a hand through his black hair.
"I really don't want to," he confessed wearily. "But I'm under orders to give them a signal if you don't give up the book. You're flat's surrounded, A."
A put her mug on the table beside her. Notably shivering under her clothes.
"What are you going to write?" she asked.
"Amina William's Scott, often known as "A" is going to live a long, happy life in the south of France."
An amused smile graced her mouth.
"How did you know I loved France?" she asked.
"All the girls love France. She'll live near a winery and work in a patisserie. She'll meet a lovely bloke and have six kids, three boys and three girls. She'll never be bothered by the book again."
He reached out a hand.
"Please give the book to me."
A's alluring countenance was white as snow.
She was afraid.
She was trembling.
"You're killing people, A. You have to stop this."
"What if something happens?" she whimpered.
"Trust me."
Cripes, he was going to fall off the bleeding couch.
She'd never take him seriously if he did that.
"Can I sit beside you?" he asked.
She nodded, biting her lower lip and hugging herself.
Loping over, Lucas slid into the seat beside her.
"Sit back," he instructed gently.
Breathing deeply, A leaned backwards into the couch.
"Close your eyes."
He slid a hand over her own, hoping it would give her courage.
"Alright …. Tell me where the book is."
Shaking and looking like she was about to chunder, A placed a hand on her cotton clad stomach.
North's lips twitched as he noticed the hard bulge.
Of course.
Gently, he reached out, sliding his hand under her skivvy, taking hold of the tome.
A gasped and stiffened.
"It's ok … I've got it."
She swallowed nervously and closed her eyes.
"Just get rid of it," she begged. "I don't want it anymore."
The tome was leaving her. She felt as if a weight were being lifted off her entire body.
Opening her eyes, she turned to the spy.
He was writing, he had not lied.
She smiled.
"I'm going to call B," she said.
Lucas nodded, not looking up from his writing.
The Grid
"So, Simon Rose did his job?" Sir Harry Pierce asked the Section Chief.
Lucas folded his arms neatly across his chest, bowing his head.
"He did."
"And where is the book?"
Lucas smiled almost teasingly at the head spook.
"Oh, where no one will ever find it," he replied candidly. "Especially Ms William's Scott."
Lucas's' flat
He watched in silence as the flames consumed the pages.
'I hope this worked,' he thought.
He looked down at the page he had kept and stroked his finger along the black print.
"Amina Williams-Scott died in hospital after being run over by a cab whilst crossing the street from the library where she worked.
She was twenty-four years old.
Ms Williams-Scott. Known as A by library co-workers and the library's patrons, was not succeeded by any other family, yet according to her therapist, Brendan Gaines, she will be greatly missed by him and remembered as a woman heading toward a bright future."
The end
Authors note
I found A's story quite the intriguing one, I wish Atman had been recorded onto a DVD, sadly was not to be. I would have loved to have seen Lucy Griffiths play such an exciting character.
A, I feel, was committing an unknowing act of terrorism by continuing to write in the book. In the play the character ends up destroying the world.
John Bateman, the man who stole Lucas North's identity, was knowingly committing acts of terrorism. And although this story pretends that Bateman never existed, I wanted to let you know that he inspired me.
The reason Bateman does not appear is this story is mainly because I opted against adding him. Quite stupid but I daresay I often prefer to pretend, in my stories, that John Bateman did not appear in Spooks and Lucas actually died a hero.
I hope to be writing more Lucas North and Lucy Griffiths character cross overs in the future. Stay tuned if this is what takes your fancy.
If you liked this, grouse as! If not, can't please everyone.