Someone’s written a Wimsey/Torchwood crossover, which may amuse one or two people on the Flist.
Part IPart II.
There are some liberties with canon (which are at least acknowledged and generally have a point to them), and it's occasionally a little OOC for Peter, not least (though not most) in that self-destructive as he may have been post-Barbara, it's one thing to spy in disguise behind enemy lines, and another to inform a complete stranger that you’re sleeping with your sergeant, but there you go. Given the lines I scrawled in eyeliner on a box of paracetamol and codeine last night for want of a pen and paper, I am probably not one to talk about improbabilities.