Triple Threat in Whitechapel
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any related characters and/or concepts belong to JK Rowling and/or Bloomsbury and Scholastic Publishing companies and/or Warner Brothers Studios. Likewise I do not own Doctor Who, any related characters and/or concepts belong to the BBC. Ripper Street and all related characters and/or concepts also belong to the BBC. I am a mere Fanfiction writer with far too much time on her hands.
Spoilers: Post Stolen Earth, no Journey's End, and AU where Rose and the Meta
stayed. Set after "Forming Family", "Tiny Traveler", "Procuring a Professor For Potter" and "Quite the Day". Post "What Use our Work" in the Ripper Street timeline.
Author's Notes: Nobody knows who Jack the Ripper was and we'll probably never know. So, don't firebomb my reviews with whining about who you think did it and that I need to edit to reflect your opinion on the culprit. I don't care. I am an amateur Ripperologist too. I have my pet theories and my pet culprits but I will not be using them. Rational reasons and human culprits go out the door as soon as you introduce Doctor Who to any crime. Got that? Good. Enjoy.
Prologue:
When asked later on about that Monday, Edmund Reid would admit that it had taken him by surprise and Bennet Drake would say that although it was a shock that he had never been more grateful.
Only Captain Homer Jackson would admit that he had been scared from his wits at first, that he had sensed something coming long before they arrived.
It had been a normal day, the smog of London blocking most sunlight and people rushing to and fro on errands. The prostitutes of the nighttime streets had slunk away minutes after dawn. The sound of hoof beats thundered as carts and carriages raced over the cobblestones of the street ways as merchants hawked their wares and haggled with customers.
The officers of H Division were already hard at work, dealing with the daily crimes that they always did when the doors burst open and a madman in a pinstripe suit and wild hair came striding in followed by a young woman. She was dressed properly at least.
"Hello," the Madman spoke cheerily, "I'm the Doctor, she's Rose, and we're here to talk to Inspector Edmund Reid."
"Whatever for?" the desk clerk asked, eyeing them.
"We're here to help with the Ripper Case!" the Doctor announced.
That got things moving.
Chapter One:
An Hour or So Earlier
"Outside these doors lies Victorian London," the Doctor spoke seriously to his small task force. Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Mickey Smith, Martha Jones-Smith, Donna Noble, Barbara and Ian Chesterton, Sarah Jane Smith, K9, Ianto Jones, Harry Potter, John Dawlish, Evelina, Adrianna Luckworth, and The Brigadier all stood in the console room, properly costumed for the period. K9 wore a specialized gadget that projected the appearance of a normal dog. Each stood ready, waiting for their assignments.
"A dark and dank and rather dreary place," he continued, "You are not to draw attention to yourselves, we're running a huge risk just being here and if you see the Queen run in the other direction, no hugging or kissing people without permission. You've all been inoculated for the diseases of the era but other than that we're all very vulnerable here. Alistair, you, Ianto, and Mickey will be working exclusively in the TARDIS, our ground control. Jack, please behave here, you'll be working the pubs. Rose and I will collect Inspector Reid and after that we'll decide what we'll do…" he frowned, "Martha, I'm sorry but you'll have to act as our coroner."
Martha paled but nodded.
"Donna, back up Time Lord." The Doctor continued, "If something happens I need you to get me and Rose out. If that isn't possible get the TARDIS to safety and look after Harry, Jenny and Brion."
Donna scowled but nodded.
The Doctor then looked at the women in his group collectively, "We also might have to bait the Ripper," a soft murmur spread through them as they each nodded their consent, "We'll do all we can that it won't come to that and if it does we'll do all we can to ensure safety but there is no promise. Someone may get hurt," he let out a sigh, "but we'll do all we can and you're all capable, tough birds." He smiled wistfully, "I am proud of each and every one here. Human, Time Lord, Fact, Wizard, Robot. I take only the best with me you know." He grinned maniacally, "and you, my friends, are the best of the best. The all-stars of my companion roster."
Some blushed, some laughed, most cheered and he found himself in the midst of a very tight large group hug.
Once the tide receded, freeing him, he gave a very large grin, grabbed Rose's hand in his and said, "Wish us luck."
They rushed out the door, only to meet with…
"Doctor, so good to see you again." The woman spoke with a slight hiss but her voice was pleasant. She was tall and dressed as a noblewoman, wearing a veil that obscured her face and white gloves over her hands.
"Have we met?" The Doctor asked.
"This will be the first time in your timeline," the woman spoke, "but not in mine. My name is Vastra…" she lowered her veil, revealing…
"Silurian," the Doctor hissed, fingering the Sonic, "What finds you here? Why did you phone us?"
"I live here of course," Vastra spoke in amusement, "I aid the humans by acting as a detective, dealing with alien troublemakers before they become noticeable enough to attract your attention, helping the human law-enforcement officers." She frowned, "The Ripper is taking more victims…extraterrestrial refugees. I cannot handle this alone. All my usual methods have failed me…"
"Alright," Rose spoke up, glancing at the Doctor, "We're here to help. You want us to fetch the Inspector right?"
"Yes, I doubt he'd be receptive to someone of my…background."
"Fine, just head into the TARDIS. Don't touch anything and we'll be back."
Simultaneously
Inspector Edmund Reid was already swamped, despite it being only early morning. Sergeant Drake was running late and his American was nowhere to be found. Another apparent Ripper victim had been found and the press, leeches that they were, was already at his door demanding answers he didn't have. Abberline was bound to show up soon enough, demanding to be allowed to lead the new investigation; the department was still a man down as no one had the heart to replace Constable Hobbs yet.
Combine that with a night's sleep filled to the brim with nightmares and the general feeling that a storm was approaching left Reid in a pretty foul mood.
When Sergeant Drake finally appeared he was still half-asleep and yawning.
"Sergeant Drake," Inspector Reid's voice was irritable and promised retribution for an incorrect answer, "Might I inquire as to why you are arriving late?"
"Nightmares sir," Drake replied with hesitation, "bloody nightmares, kept me up all night sir…"
Part of Reid felt sympathy, most of him felt irritation. "My office, now."
Drake bowed his head and did as bid but just as the door to the office was about to close Captain Jackson had decided to show up, absolutely drunk.
"Storm's a-comin' Reid," the American slurred, "Somethin' big an' nasty."
Reid glanced up at the heavens, looking for support from the god he lost faith in before barking, "Office, both of you, my office now!"
Jackson wavered but staggered towards the office. Just as the door was about to shut behind him the doors to H Division opened yet again and a madman in a pinstripe suit and wild hair came striding in followed by a young woman. She was dressed properly at least.
"Hello," the Madman spoke cheerily, "I'm the Doctor, she's Rose, and we're here to talk to Inspector Edmund Reid."
"Whatever for?" the desk clerk asked, eyeing them.
"We're here to help with the Ripper Case!" the man who proclaimed himself to be the Doctor announced.
That got things moving.
Reid moved forward, hand sticking out, "I am Inspector Edmund Reid."
"Of course you are!" the madman surged forward, shaking his hand enthusiastically, before squinting and saying, "Funny, I remember you being shorter, bit rounder too…"
"Doctor," the woman, Rose apparently, warned, "Saying too much…"
"Right, right," the Doctor nodded, grinning and bouncing on his heels, "perhaps you'll agree to follow us to our home?"
"You said you have information about the Ripper case…" Reid tried to egg the madman on.
"Not here, Inspector, not here," The Doctor spoke with a twinkle in his eyes, "gather your most trusted men and follow us to our home and we'll explain…"
A split second decision, Inspector Reid nodded, "Sergeant Drake, Captain Jackson, with me."
"No guns," The Doctor spoke suddenly, perhaps catching a glint of Captain Jackson's favored gun on his belt, "absolutely no guns, I can't stand guns." He was no longer a grinning madman, being serious and stern. There was no hope of anyone sane disobeying him.
Jackson, still very drunk, looked about to argue but Drake was quicker, removing his guns and then stripping his comrade of his. The desk clerk took them, along with the sole gun of Reid.
"Much better." The madman was back, a happy buffoon. He took his companion's hand, holding her almost scandalously close, and announced one word, "RUN!'
With happy laughter, giggles, and secret sharing smiles the two took off at a full out run. The three Victorians scrambled to keep up but manage to do so.
They were led on a merry chase through the streets and narrow alleyways. They finally were led to a bright blue upright box with the words 'Police Box' decorating the top.
The madman was leaning against it, grinning, "You passed your first test…"
"I beg your pardon!" Reid blustered angrily, "I do not know who you are…"
"He's the Doctor 'course." Rose spoke cheerily as she exited the box; she held the doors open, "Go on in." She had a grin on her face that looked predatory, anticipatory.
Still drunk, Jackson did as bid, pushing past her roughly with a slurred, "Ma'am." and swore wildly as he saw.
Drake charged in after him, pushing Rose aside, and he too began swearing, sounding even rougher with his Irish accent.
Rose stepped aside for Inspector Reid. He respectfully took off his hat before entering and found himself in a place he had not been expecting. As he gaped the Doctor came to his side, slinging an arm around his shoulders, saying, 'We're not from around here, you see…"
"'ow on God's green earth's 'is—It's-it's—"" Drake demanded, words falling him.
"The TARDIS contains a pocket dimension," Rose spoke with pride, "An entire city, bigger even, in this one little box…"
"What—?"
"We're alien time-travelers…" the Doctor continued cheerily, "This's our ride, home, and our friend. Me and the TARDIS have been together for…oh, about eight hundred years, give or take a few centuries that might no longer count."
"Now, ya see. We've a friend that lives in this Time," Rose picked up the thread of the story, "You might even know her, the Masked Detective, and she's an alien too…"
"I beg your pardon Madam Tyler," a feminine voice interrupted, "I take offense at being called an extraterrestrial." Out stepped Vastra, sans veil, "I will have you know I was born upon this planet long before your ancestors ever even dreamed of coming down from their trees." She sounded more motherly than offended though, as if chastising an errant child.
"I apologize, that was indeed the wrong term to use," Rose apologized primly, "What I should say is that she is not human…"
Chapter Two:
"What in the world…" Reid was the most coherent of the three, staring quite rudely.
"I am a Silurian, Homo-Reptilian." Vastra spoke grandly, "My kind was the precursor to yours…My name is Vastra. At some point you will also meet my wife, Jenny Flint, she's human. I have no need of your close-mindedness. The Ripper has eluded your grasps as well as mine. He is claiming more victims…"
The men paled, but Vastra continued, "Victims that will not be missed by you humans, extraterrestrial refugees…"
"Re-refugees?!" Jackson demanded, suddenly sober.
"Yes, war is not a human concept by far," The Doctor spoke darkly, "This planet, Earth, is a haven for those who need one. Most refugees are decent people, not unlike Humans. Some are criminals, Vastra here deals with them in this time…"
"But they've no one to protect them," Rose spoke up sadly, "Not yet, not for a while. We do all we can…But we can only do so much…"
Reid looked darkly, at Vastra, "I do not understand your story nor why they are here but if they reside in Whitechapel then these refugees can always rely on my men for protection. Sergeant Drake."
His subordinate spun to face him, "Yes sir?"
"Promotion, you will be the liaison of H Division to Madam…Vastra was it?" Vastra nodded.
"Right, you will work with Madam Vastra, Sergeant Drake. I will give you the manpower needed to help our…otherworldly neighbors…You will see to their protection, housing, employment and the education of their young."
"Reid, we're underfunded as it is," Jackson spoke up reluctantly.
"We'll cook the books then, take pay cuts," Reid spoke curtly, "The people of Whitechapel must know that they can trust us regardless of their…birth origins…"
"No need for such illegal measures," Vastra interrupted, "I am very well off and would be happy to donate the funding as needed as long as you meet my terms…"
"Terms…?"
'Yes, most importantly that you will shield them from the Queen and her governments…"
"Humans aren't ready for contact yet," The Doctor explained as his mind skipped a year ahead and into a different country altogether, "Within a year her Majesty will form a
secret taskforce tasked with the protection of the realm from…foreign invaders…But they take a horrible line, 'Not human? No rights.' And will torment and torture the innocent."
The men were pale once again and Jackson looked sick.
"Agreed," Drake spoke with a voice of steel, "We'll keep 'em safe, smuggle 'em out if we hafta…"
"Excellent," Vastra spoke, "I would also wish for you to employ several of the men as constables on this…taskforce of yours…"
"Would be a good idea," Drake agreed, "Takes care o' some o' the unemployed and 'm bettin' they don' trust us humans much do they?"
"Unfortunately," Vastra replied sadly, "most humans we reveal ourselves to fear and hate us, seek to harm us and our families…"
"And Ripper," Drake growled, "the bastard's takin' advantage o' that isn't he?"
"Which is why I asked for help…" Vastra nodded, "We have the new victims waiting in their morgue, full replicas of the human victims waiting and they have their own coroner waiting…"
"However," The Doctor stepped in, "First we're going to give you three a full examination, cure you of whatever you're carrying, inoculate you against our diseases, and repair whatever injuries you've suffered…" he paused, "Our doctor is a woman, from the future of about a hundred and, oh, thirty years from now…Can you accept that?"
"Sure." Jackson spoke with a shrug. Reid and Drake nodded their agreements.
"Brilliant, if you'll follow Rose she'll lead you to our Medical Wing…"
They did just that, respectfully following the woman as she led them through a small maze of halls.
"Martha!" Rose called as she ushered the men into the bay, "Nix the calming draughts and retcon."
A woman came walking out from some sort of cupboard; her eyes were kind and determined but the fact that stood out most was…
"A Negress is your surgeon?!"
"You've a problem with that?" Martha snapped, eyes narrowed.
"Nope," Jackson replied cheerily as he hopped on an examination table, "Owe my life to a negro. Best shot in the troops…"
"Can't say much," Drake added, "'m Irish…"
"No, I'm perfectly fine." Reid decided.
"Good," Martha smiled, pointing to three hospital gowns, "put those on and we can start…"
She moved off, muttering blasphemy about the fashions of Victorian Era women under her breath.
Jackson immediately began stripping down, putting aside his clothes as he went. Drake followed suit, although much more sedately.
Reid sighed, a great puff of air expelling from his body, with resignation and began undressing.
Elsewhere, Martha readied the machine that would cure them of all their ailments, the problem being that she had to calibrate the strange little thing for species, gender, time period, and relative age. And to do that she had to twist and turn a multitude of very old fashioned dials to the right points and then find the right frequency.
"What're you doing with that daft old thing?" Donna's voice floated to her.
"It's a—" Martha replied absently.
"I know what it is you silly twit," Donna sounded irritable, "but I—I mean he built that blasted thing back in his third body! Why in the world aren't you using the updated version?"
"Look," Martha turned about, almost overbalancing in the Victorian costume she wore, "Just because you have all his memories doesn't mean you can talk to me like I'm stupid. I'm still your senior in Companionship."
Donna snorted, coming into the cupboard and reaching over Martha's head, "I can and I will when you're being daft…I mean, honestly, using that thing. A machine built using an old telly, duct-tape, gum, and paper-clips…" she pulled down a case, setting it on a low shelf, "When you can use this," she revealed a gleaming white machine, "All the way from the forty-ninth century, courtesy of Captain Jack."
Martha nearly drooled, every 'doctor bone' in her body recognizing the new tool as a very important, very fun toy.
Donna smirked, starting it up. It looked rather like a very thin notebook, with solar panels on top of the casing. A wand plugged into a USB port.
"Welcome To BioScan XXVIII." The thing intoned cheerily, "Please input your personal passcode."
"I doubt he's change it," Donna muttered, typing in a word, "Yep."
"Greeting THE DOCTOR," the thing greeted, "Please enter species passcode."
"Let's see here," another word was entered.
"Calibrating BioScan XXVIII for HUMAN." The BioScan intoned happily, "Is this choice correct?"
Another pressed button and then, "Please wave the wand over a HUMAN."
"There you go," Donna handed the machine over to Martha.
"Thanks." Martha nodded and left.
Chapter Three:
Once the Victorians were healed and inoculated they were led to the morgue by Martha.
"There're five canonical Ripper victims, all humans of course," she led them to the digital reconstructions of the victims, "In order of murder date, Mary Ann Nichols aka "Polly", Annie Chapman, the so called Double Event Elizabeth Strides and then Catherine Eddowes, and last known to history, Mary Jane Kelly." She pulled on gloves, that had a skeleton structure of wires and metals, and began to manipulate the hologram bodies, "As we can see, the brutality of the murders grew worse until Kelly's murder which found her nearly unrecognizable due to mutilations." The Hologram of Kelly rapidly changed, undergoing mutilations so severe as to be grotesque. The others followed suit, though to a much lesser extent. Strides was the only one not mutilated at all. Martha looked to Jackson, "Captain, if you will pull on those gloves," she pointed to a pair like hers, "You'll be able to move these images."
He nodded and pulled on the set, looking them over before attempting to move the form of Nichols. Well, really, he was trying to look into a laceration. The laceration opened easily, as if invisible instruments held it open.
"Don't ask, future information is need to know." An American voice sounded out, "Captain Homer Jackson! How are you you bastard?" Jack yelled out, coming into the room.
"Captain Harkness?" Jackson stripped off his gloves, dropping them, "You…you're…This is why you can't die then?"
A dark shadow passed over Jack's face before disappearing, "A friend tried to save my life," he explained diplomatically, "But she went overboard." Jack smiled tightly, "But she's my best friend…" he pulled on a set of gloves, "So, the Ripper case huh?"
Deeper inside the TARDIS Harry sat, in class. He was working on his Latin in a practice-book, both reading stories and then writing responses.
The TARDIS had created and furnished a proper classroom. Harry was of course the only student but she had insisted. Evelina sat at the teacher's desk, idly reading a book. She was not comfortable with leaving him alone after she was done actually teaching him so she often read while he worked.
Most of the time Harry loved the one-on-one education but sometimes he grew a bit lonely. Steven wasn't allowed to travel with them, neither were Luke or Tony.
He frowned, scratching his nose absentmindedly; perhaps he should ask to be put into a regular school…
Or, his eyes lit up, found his own…Yes, that was an idea… His mind whirled as he began plotting. A primary school for magical kids…In honor of his parents…
But then Evelina began gasping, eyes wide and glazed over as she suffered a vision. Harry instantly went to her, abandoning his work. Almost just as quickly Auror Dawlish arrived, along with Martha and everyone else.