AN: Thanks to ya'll who reviewed, I'm glad you enjoyed. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, it may be brief, but it was a right pain. Hopefully chapter three won't be quite so impossible, though I imagine it will be.

Still looking for a beta, you can still reach me at GoblinQueenie on AIM and YIM and goblinqueenie at gmail com.

Chapter Two

The station house was busy with the every day messes that seemed to be an essential part of the city when Torres arrived. She dropped down at her shared glass topped desk, hooking up her tablet and queuing up her notes and schedule for the day.

Before David could arrive and they could settle into their grim business, a short, dark skinned woman approached. "Morning, Torres"

"Morning, Cap'n," she responded, looking up from her desk.

"I want you and Angel in my office the minute he gets here," the captain said briskly.

"I'm here, I'm here," Angel said, hurrying up to them and throwing his things carelessly onto his chair. "What's up?"

"Office. Now."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," Torres agreed and she and Angel followed the older woman, a few steps behind.

"Did you get us in trouble already?" Angel hissed, trying and failing to hide his nervousness.

Torres, however, was more confused than agitated. "I don't think so," she whispered back, "But it must be something serious for her not to get all worked up over the 'cap'n' thing."

They entered an office marked, 'Samantha Laurie', the captain closing the door firmly behind them. "Sit," she commanded.

Angel and Torres did as they were told, waiting in fidgety silence as Laurie took her customary place behind her large dark desk.

"Well, David. Good news," she began, mildly enough. "Bad news for you though, Ravenna."

The two detectives shared a quick glance and the captain laughed. "Stop looking as though you've been called into the principal's office."

"Well, Cap'n, haven't we?" Torres asked, Angel quickly following with, "Is this about Mephistopheles?"

"Enough of your nautical nonsense. And no, this isn't about your case. Directly." She leaned back in her chair. "I need you to go to Chrono-Gen and pick up your, ah, consultants."

Angel practically leapt out of his chair with glee, "Really?"

"What do they have to do with these murders?" Torres asked with a frown.

"Come on, Torres," he said impatiently. "Don't you read the paper? They're the ones that…" he trailed off as Laurie laughed again at the look of horror on Torres' face.

"I told you it was bad news. Apparently Angel's political leanings and the media coverage of these murders have you first in line for the receipt of two crime solving Victorians."

"This is so not cool," Torres said. "This is… idiocy. Captain, isn't there anything you can do? This case is enough of a quagmire without two time travelers or clones or whatever mucking it up with their less than modern ideas of forensics," she finished with a visible shudder. "Besides, how many cheap pastiches have that particular plot contrivance?"

"No, there's nothing I can do. If you'd been reading the paper, as Angel pointed out, you'd know the Commissioner thinks this is a brilliant idea. There remains, that you will be dealing with Victorians. And despite all that can be said for their investigative abilities, it remains that they will be a bit," she paused searching for the right word, "confused.

"I want you to be the liaison between NYPD, these consultants and the personnel at Chrono-Gen. It's your business to hand hold the Great Detective and his Boswell," she reiterated, as though concerned that the message wasn't clear enough.

Angel was now actually out of his chair, "Thanks, Captain. This is fantastic!"

"Not you, Angel. Torres. She will be their handler."

He sat down again heavily. "No… Captain, you heard what she said! She thinks this is a crackpot scheme and will probably do everything in her power to keep them as far away from the case as possible, regardless of the harm."

"I, er, actually have to agree," Torres said, "As flattering as that was, Angel. Call me chronologically prejudiced but I'd rather stick my hand in a garbage disposal. If you want some cranky Victorians, by all means, leave me in charge of them, but if you actually expect them to live up to their end of this cockamamie plan, then, well, pick somebody else. Anybody else."

"Decision's been made. Angel's too busy dealing with the media and since you two are nominally in charge of investigating these murders, that leaves you. Now then, I believe I told you two to go to Chrono-Gen and pick up Holmes and Watson."

"Fine," Angel said, barely controlling his frustration. "We're going."

Torres followed him mutely out of the door.

AN: Hope you enjoyed, please leave me a note telling me what you thought. Constructive criticism is always welcome