An: It is with sadness that I dedicate this chapter to Spinning Jenny who passed away today. This fic is her namesake and is not dead yet.
Guess who's back...
Title is from Crossing the Bar by Lord Alfred Tennyson (a bourne is a stream ICONK)
The first thing Jenny did upon arrival back at 13 Paternoster Row was send off the letter to Harriet Fields, whom she realised they had not corresponded with once and would undoubtedly be anxious. She felt relieved to be back in London, particularly as April was a mere two weeks away.
19th March 1888
The Irregulars were over-joyed at her return and had much to tell her of the local intrigues and gossip that made up their world when they were not engaged to investigate a case. There was little of any note or cause for alarm and she let the chatter wash over her, increasing the sense of ease and relief she felt as sat in her own kitchen once more.
Vastra had gone to Scotland Yard, presumably to fulfil the same task, only with policemen instead of urchins. Jenny did not envy her for it and her irritation at the fact she was seen only as a maid had decreased substantially, what with the increase in the amount of people knowing she wasn't.
She was in such a state of contentment that even the belligerent knock at the back door didn't annoy her and she went to answer it with only a mild pang of curiosity as to who would call at the back door, thinking perhaps it was her sister.
She opened it to find two people, dressed in the most outrageous costumes complete with masks, stood there, one of whom promptly shoved a pistol into her face.
Jenny glanced at it then looked back to the bearer, raising an eyebrow. "Can I 'elp you?"
The two masked figures glanced at each other in consternation that their threat was being treated so dismissively.
"You can't hide it you know." One of them said petulantly.
The Irregulars crowded round her, intrigued as to who was at the door themselves.
"Hide what?"
"Is it a case?"
"Should we go get Madame Vastra?"
"What are they wearin'…" (this was from Jack).
The chatter was silenced when another pistol was produced and waved about threateningly.
"We've come for what is ours." said the second figure.
Jenny rolled her eyes. "P'raps you might get a bit further in gettin' it if you explained yerselves." She turned to go indoors, herding the Irregulars before her. "Cris, nip down to Scotland Yard and tell Madame we got a case."
Cris threw a mock salute and dashed off.
"You'd best come in an' all." Jenny beckoned for them to follow her indoors. For one thing, the clothes the two of them were wearing would cause comment if left out in the open too long.
Keeping their pistols high and aimed at her, the pair walked through the doorway. Jenny directed them to the Plant Room and Boggin brought in a second chair from the kitchen. The pair sat down warily, as if suspecting the chairs would collapse. Jenny sent Soljer and Ada to make some tea and then sat down in Vastra's chair, slumping and crossing her arms and legs are she observed them.
She couldn't see much beneath their masks and strange dark goggles obscured their eyes. The hats they wore were identical tricorns, right down to the jagged cut in the front most side. The one seated nearest her had long dark hair, secured in a ponytail at the base of her neck. The other had roughly cut dirty blonde straggles peeking out from around the brim of their hat. She frowned as she noticed that beneath their long leather coats, the dark haired one wore two straps bristling with an array of knives and the other a ridiculously patterned knitted woollen pullover vest. It needed darning, Jenny noticed. There was a hole two thirds of the way down. They had mirrored her and folded their legs, which were encased in hardy looking cloth trousers with pockets everywhere. One of them was nervously twitching a boot, making the leather creak.
Jack came through carrying the tea tray and Jenny stood, busying herself pouring it out. She tried not to let the beginnings of nervousness make her hand shake as she set the cups down. The pair might've looked ridiculous but pistols were still something to take into consideration. She noted, with wry amusement, that they were flintlock pistols.
After an awkward quarter of an hour, in which neither of the two visitors touched their tea, Jenny finally heard the rumble of their cab and the sound of Vastra coming in through the kitchen.
The pair got up hurriedly, standing back to back, keeping one pistol on Jenny and the other at the entrance.
Of course, Jenny realised belatedly, she'd sent Cris to fetch Vastra from Scotland Yard. And of course, Cris would have reliably and accurately informed the Silurian that a couple of pistol bearing clients were busy threatening Jenny. So of course, Vastra was going to come storming through the door, both swords drawn, ready for battle. The accompanying cohort of armed policemen with their own pistols loaded and ready, which included, she noticed, Inspector Gregson, were a surprise however.
"Madame." She bowed her head briefly, conscious that she should show the correct deference but waggled her eyebrows and stared with widened eyes to question the presence of the police.
"They wished to accompany me." Vastra shrugged, sheathing her swords. "Are you harmed?"
"No ma'am. We was all pleasantly not drinking tea together when you came in." She smiled at the pair, who had paled at the entrance of quite so much weaponry. "Might I suggest, Madame, good sirs," she turned her sardonic smile on the policemen and continued curtly, "that we put the guns away? Lest anyone gets hurt unnecessarily." She finished, her tone suggesting that people could still get hurt necessarily if they insisted on being foolish.
The policemen shuffled but didn't lower their guns.
"And you two!" Jenny snapped.
The pair had staunchly kept their weapons up at the entrance of Vastra and the police, but the order of unilateral disarmament seemed the course of action with the lowest mortality rate and they obediently if slowly returned their guns to their holsters. There was a brief flurry among the policemen to also stow their weapons and then they milled around, somewhat aimlessly, like additional chickens.
"Thank you, gentleman. It appears we won't be needing you after." Vastra dismissed them smoothly with a wave of her hand.
Gregson looked embarrassed. "If you're sure, Madame Vastra."
"Perfectly, I assure you."
He harrumphed to regain dignity, having just seen all his men take orders from a maid, and in a gruff commanding voice to indicate he was still in charge, told his officers to return to the station.
When it seemed as if he was about to linger, Vastra paused in the action of taking off her cloak and looked over her shoulder at him. "No doubt you have more pressing crimes to be investigating? Hm?"
"Oh! Yes. Yes! All sorts of…well…I'll be going then. If these two cause any more problems…"
"Oh, I doubt they will be." Vastra turned to the pair and, making sure Gregson couldn't see, lifted her veil to grin at them.
"Right! Right. I'll uh…be off then." Gregson awkwardly started walking backwards.
Vastra waited patiently for him to leave and close the door behind him, then removed her veil fully, flinging it over the back of the chair.
Jenny had been surprised at her lifting the veil and threw a questioning glance at Vastra.
"First things first. More tea, I think. Jenny?" Vastra settled herself in the old wicker chair and serenely gazed at the pair.
"Yes ma'am." Jenny rolled her eyes. It didn't take her long to get the kettle boiled and set the tray again. Despite being as quiet as it is possible to be whilst handling china, she didn't hear a word spoken and when she returned to the Plant Room with four steaming cups, Vastra was still gazing. Their two clients were beginning to shift slightly under the force of it.
"Now then. Shall we start again? It's been rather a long time now. Pearce. Darrow." Vastra nodded to them both.
Jenny nearly dropped the tray.
"We've no time for pleasantries, Vastra. We know you've got it!" the dark haired one spoke up.
"We traced the energy signature here." The other nodded emphatically, folding their arms.
"An' might I enquire as to who "we" is?" Jenny put the tray down with a little more force than necessary and glowered first at them and then at Vastra.
"Ah. This is Pearce and Darrow. They were performers in the circus. Darrow was a knife thrower," Vastra gestured towards the dark haired one. "renowned for being able to chop an onion in mid-air. Pearce was a sharp shooter. Could shoot someone in the liver from across the ring. "Liver and Onions" their act was called."
"They shot people?" Jenny regarded their pistols with more respect.
"Only with paint pellets." Pearce sounded mildly disgusted at their ammunition. Darrow elbowed them.
"That was in the circus." Darrow stood up, removing her mask to reveal piercing blue eyes in a round face that was crosshatched with scars. "Beforehand, we were the infamous space pirates. All Dread Her and…"
"Silly Vest Wearer." Pearce cut in curtly.
"It's a literal translation." All Dread Her said, sounding mildly apologetic. She elbowed her companion again and Silly Vest Wearer also removed their mask. Her face was more angular than her lover's and she glowered with grey eyes, as if daring either of them to comment on her name.
Jenny saw that Vastra was equally stunned at this revelation.
"I s'pose it's your lockets you've come for then." Jenny found that she was glad they were still alive after all, although confused as to how aliens looked so human.
"That is correct." Silly Vest Wearer's hand strayed towards her gun again.
"Unfortunately, we are no longer in possession of them. We returned both lockets to Torchwood, where they no doubt are locked securely in a vault." Vastra steepled her fingers and rested her finger tips against her chin.
All Dread Her delved into a pocket and brought out a compact device that was glowing orange. "This vault must be shielded against our technology."
"Another dead end." Silly Vest Wearer sighed.
Or else your technology is a bit useless, Jenny thought privately to herself. The vault hadn't seemed very shielded to her.
"If you don't mind me enquiring, how did you come to lose them in the first place?" Vastra asked. "I don't recall you having any such lockets at the circus."
"Hm?" All Dread Her looked up distractedly from her device. "Oh." She flushed. "Ha. That would've been interesting wouldn't it. Imagine the tricks we could've done." She snapped the device shut and stowed it in her jacket.
"Well?"
All Dread Her shuffled her feet. "Well, they were stolen by accident."
"How c'n yer steal somethin' by accident?" Jenny, who had never in her life stolen anything by accident, snorted.
Silly Vest Wearer's hand twitched towards her gun again.
"Interesting story." All Dread Her laughed. "But as you don't have our lockets, we'll just be on our way. If you could point us in the direction of this Torchwood Vault?"
"I don't think Torchwood would be best pleased with us if we did that." Vastra smiled.
"An' they investigate alien technology an' the like. Fink they might be a bit interested in you. As in they might try an' add you to their collection." Jenny added.
"Oh but we're not aliens!" All Dread Her protested. "We're human. From Earth!"
"But you said you were space pirates!" Jenny pointed out, her ire rising.
"Infamous ones." All Dread Her nodded.
"Time travelling ones too I take it." Vastra raised her eye ridges.
"Not by choice." Silly Vest Wearer muttered darkly.
"How c'n you time travel without choice?" Jenny was now completely exasperated at what was looking to be another ridiculous case.
All Dread Her smiled at her sympathetically. "I take it you've never heard of the beings known as the Weeping Angels."
An: In the Brilliant Book 2012 from which much inspiration comes, on the poster from Vastra's circus there is Pearce and Darrow "Liver and onions", which duly became an in disguise All Dread Her and Silly Vest Wearer because it seemed fun that Vastra would know them.
