Gift for jedimasterstar
To: jedimasterstar
From: eriphi
Title: The Last (and First) Christmas Gift
Characters and/or Pairings: 11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River Song and Melody Pond.
Rating: Gen
Summary: Melody Pond's first Christmas.
Author's Notes: For the prompts heartache, loneliness and family, with a bit of the festive spirit thrown in. These really are the toys in the orphanage room. They are so faded and evocative that they needed their own story.
Word Count: 1684
Melody Pond does not believe in Christmas.
She believes in lots of things. She believes that superior power will always be the victor unless superior intellect is ranged against it. She believes that Madame Kovarian has a special job for her one day. She believes that time can be rewritten, except the bits that cannot.
(She also believes in fish custard and the Last Centurion. She never tells Madame Kovarian, although she would like to know what they are.)
But Christmas and Santa Claus and presents for good boys and girls? Not really.
The doorbell echoes through the empty building. She runs to the end of the corridor to watch for the caller. No-one ever rings the bell. Madame Kovarian is the only visitor and she has other ways to get in.
There is a man standing at the door. He is cloaked in shadow until Dr Renfrew opens the door.
The light illuminates the visitor's bright red hat. He is carrying a fair sized sack slung over his shoulder.
Her training kicks in. She imagines how she would kill him if the need arose. He is relaxed. Confident. Fool, she thinks. Easy to kill.
---
In another time and place, it was easier to believe.
"Christmas morning with the Ponds," the Doctor declared happily. "No adventures, no disasters, no alien incursions..."
"No crashing space ships, or running for our lives," Amy said.
"Or near death experiences, or real death experiences, or..." Rory said.
River Song continued, "Or explosions, or blasters, or collisions, or ghosts..."
"Yes, yes. Boring, I know. But there are gifts to open. If the world needs saving, it will just have to wait until after dinner."
Idris the cat purred around his legs in agreement. Amy filled their glasses with fresh orange juice and began handing out presents.
Anyone observing the scene would have thought they seemed like a perfectly normal family, with an unusual choice in gifts. The Doctor was delighted by his shiny new Fez. Rory was less enamoured of the stripy bowtie and braces that the Doctor had decided were 'just what the wardrobe needed'. River tried on the necklace, earrings and shoes from the Sunday Dungeon Market and twirled in the twinkling lights of the tree. Amy kept their glasses filled and checked on the potatoes occasionally.
The cat purred, the air was full of the smell of roasting turkey and Christmas music played on the radio. Life was good.
Rory finally agreed to wear the bow-tie and braces. He nipped upstairs to change his shirt to something brighter so that it would 'look properly awful.'
So there were only three of them around the Andromedean Christmas tree ("Never loses its needles, guaranteed for three millennia") when Amy pulled out the last present. It was about the size of her cupped hands and neatly wrapped in blue paper. Absently, she said, "I don't recognise this one."
It was light and cool under the paper and was probably Rory's handiwork. The Doctor wrapped presents the way he did TARDIS repairs; with a lot of creases and Sellotape, while River used some sort of self-wrapping paper that clung to the gift until it was time to tear open. Amy shook it and something chimed inside.
Rory seemed to hear the noise. He appeared at the top of the stairs with the braces half done and the tie hanging around his neck. "Amy," he demanded. "Where did you find that?"
"Under the tree, stupid. It's a Christmas present."
"Don't look at it. Don't..." He almost fell down the stairs in his hurry to reach her. She snatched the gift away before he could grab it.
"Hey, Rory! At least let me read the label first."
She read it. Then she stopped.
When Rory lunged at it this time, she did not try to pull away. He took it and clutched it tightly against his chest.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered. "You weren't supposed to see this. It wasn't even supposed to be here. It was in the loft, at the back, behind the pots of paint. I didn't want anyone to see it. I'm sorry. I'll just pretend that it isn't..."
Amy interrupted his babbling. "Give it to her."
"It wasn't meant for her. Well, obviously it is, but it wasn't really and..."
"Rory. Give it to River."
He was very white as he passed the parcel to River Song. She took it and read the label out loud.
"To Melody Pond. Love from Daddy."
Rory said, "It isn't anything important. It's probably not worth opening. It was just a whim, you know. That day we were in the department store in Colchester. There was a girl and her mum who wanted your autograph, remember?"
Amy nodded.
"It was a funny sort of day. I felt like the hair was standing up on the back of my neck. Like we were being watched."
"You said you felt like someone was walking over your grave."
The Doctor raised his hand as though he was a child requesting permission to speak. "Umm, that might have been me. Well, not really walking over your grave, Rory. That's just weird, but well, I might have been in the same shop."
"I wondered if it was something like that. And the man with the baby?"
"That would be Craig."
"I thought you might have known him. He was just ordinary looking, but he seemed familiar. I kept thinking I recognised him, but maybe it was just the way people look when they're getting ready to run for their lives. He had a baby, and I kept thinking about... about Melody." Rory took a deep breath and stared at the twinkling lights of the tree.
"This would be her first Christmas. And I know she's had lots of Christmases, or that River has had a lot of Christmases..."
"More than I care to admit," River said.
Rory seemed not to have heard. "And I thought that, even if she wasn't here, I still could get her something. To prove that I still remembered."
"You went into that antique shop beside the bus stop," Amy said.
"I saw it in a box at the back of the shop, and it reminded me of one of the toys in that room in the orphanage. And... And I wondered if it might have been the same one, from 1969. Although I don't know how it would have got to an antique shop in Colchester. It was a stupid idea."
River peeled back the paper at last. Inside was a faded metal spinning top. It was yellow and decorated with figures. Without hesitation she put it on the floor and pushed the handle so that the body spun. She pushed it again and again so that it turned faster and faster.
"I kept it hidden. It wasn't supposed to be under the tree. I was going to just keep it, just to remember that she is still out there. And that I haven't... that we haven't forgotten the baby, even though she grew up without us."
The only sound was the top, spinning.
River said. "It always leans towards the smiling lady."
They watched as it slowed, and finally stopped.
Beside the smiling lady.
"You've seen it before," the Doctor said.
"Of course I have, sweetie. It is the same one, although it is a bit smaller than I remember." She turned it over. "See, I scraped my name on it."
Her name was not there. The shiny metal was unblemished.
"It's the same one. Of course it is. But that means I haven't done it yet... And that means that you... Oh, you terrible man." A grin spread across her face.
She gathered the Doctor into a hug. And kissed him, and tapped the red fez on his head warmly.
She gave Amy a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
Then she pulled Rory out of his seat and held him as tightly as she could for a very long time.
"I don't know if you know what it means. Or what it meant to that little girl. Or what it means now. But thank you. Thank you."
She was crying.
She will explain later.
---
Melody Pond watches the man in the red hat talk to Dr Renfrew. She cannot hear what they are saying. He looks up. She sees him wink.
She could kill him with her bare hands. One snap of the hyoid bone would be enough and wouldn't make a sound.
He finishes talking and shakes Dr Renfrew's hand. He waves to her window before he walks off into the night.
Dr Renfrew knocks on her door a little later. He is carrying the bag.
"A man came," he says slowly. Dr Renfrew is losing his mind, she thinks. His usefulness is running out. Perhaps she will kill him one day. "He brought presents. It's Christmas. There should be presents at Christmas. He says you should have them. Been a long time since someone brought gifts to the orphanage."
"Leave them there."
He puts the bag down, then looks at her as if he has never seen her before. "Merry Christmas."
Once he has gone, she looks inside the sack. It is full of old toys. A wooden boat, a box of dolls. They look like they have seen better days.
Melody thinks about the exercises that Madame Kovarian has given her. There is a treatise on the tactics of the Bravarian Galactic arm that she should be reading, or she should be meditating, or practicing her blaster technique.
Instead she reaches into the sack. Her hand comes across a spinning top.
There is still part of a label attached to it. It reads "...nd, love from Daddy."
Thoughtfully, she places it on the rug, pushes the handle and watches it spin. She wonders if it was a gift. She wonders if this 'Daddy' loved his child very much.
She decides she is going to write her name on it as soon as it stops spinning.
End
From: eriphi
Title: The Last (and First) Christmas Gift
Characters and/or Pairings: 11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River Song and Melody Pond.
Rating: Gen
Summary: Melody Pond's first Christmas.
Author's Notes: For the prompts heartache, loneliness and family, with a bit of the festive spirit thrown in. These really are the toys in the orphanage room. They are so faded and evocative that they needed their own story.
Word Count: 1684
Melody Pond does not believe in Christmas.
She believes in lots of things. She believes that superior power will always be the victor unless superior intellect is ranged against it. She believes that Madame Kovarian has a special job for her one day. She believes that time can be rewritten, except the bits that cannot.
(She also believes in fish custard and the Last Centurion. She never tells Madame Kovarian, although she would like to know what they are.)
But Christmas and Santa Claus and presents for good boys and girls? Not really.
The doorbell echoes through the empty building. She runs to the end of the corridor to watch for the caller. No-one ever rings the bell. Madame Kovarian is the only visitor and she has other ways to get in.
There is a man standing at the door. He is cloaked in shadow until Dr Renfrew opens the door.
The light illuminates the visitor's bright red hat. He is carrying a fair sized sack slung over his shoulder.
Her training kicks in. She imagines how she would kill him if the need arose. He is relaxed. Confident. Fool, she thinks. Easy to kill.
---
In another time and place, it was easier to believe.
"Christmas morning with the Ponds," the Doctor declared happily. "No adventures, no disasters, no alien incursions..."
"No crashing space ships, or running for our lives," Amy said.
"Or near death experiences, or real death experiences, or..." Rory said.
River Song continued, "Or explosions, or blasters, or collisions, or ghosts..."
"Yes, yes. Boring, I know. But there are gifts to open. If the world needs saving, it will just have to wait until after dinner."
Idris the cat purred around his legs in agreement. Amy filled their glasses with fresh orange juice and began handing out presents.
Anyone observing the scene would have thought they seemed like a perfectly normal family, with an unusual choice in gifts. The Doctor was delighted by his shiny new Fez. Rory was less enamoured of the stripy bowtie and braces that the Doctor had decided were 'just what the wardrobe needed'. River tried on the necklace, earrings and shoes from the Sunday Dungeon Market and twirled in the twinkling lights of the tree. Amy kept their glasses filled and checked on the potatoes occasionally.
The cat purred, the air was full of the smell of roasting turkey and Christmas music played on the radio. Life was good.
Rory finally agreed to wear the bow-tie and braces. He nipped upstairs to change his shirt to something brighter so that it would 'look properly awful.'
So there were only three of them around the Andromedean Christmas tree ("Never loses its needles, guaranteed for three millennia") when Amy pulled out the last present. It was about the size of her cupped hands and neatly wrapped in blue paper. Absently, she said, "I don't recognise this one."
It was light and cool under the paper and was probably Rory's handiwork. The Doctor wrapped presents the way he did TARDIS repairs; with a lot of creases and Sellotape, while River used some sort of self-wrapping paper that clung to the gift until it was time to tear open. Amy shook it and something chimed inside.
Rory seemed to hear the noise. He appeared at the top of the stairs with the braces half done and the tie hanging around his neck. "Amy," he demanded. "Where did you find that?"
"Under the tree, stupid. It's a Christmas present."
"Don't look at it. Don't..." He almost fell down the stairs in his hurry to reach her. She snatched the gift away before he could grab it.
"Hey, Rory! At least let me read the label first."
She read it. Then she stopped.
When Rory lunged at it this time, she did not try to pull away. He took it and clutched it tightly against his chest.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered. "You weren't supposed to see this. It wasn't even supposed to be here. It was in the loft, at the back, behind the pots of paint. I didn't want anyone to see it. I'm sorry. I'll just pretend that it isn't..."
Amy interrupted his babbling. "Give it to her."
"It wasn't meant for her. Well, obviously it is, but it wasn't really and..."
"Rory. Give it to River."
He was very white as he passed the parcel to River Song. She took it and read the label out loud.
"To Melody Pond. Love from Daddy."
Rory said, "It isn't anything important. It's probably not worth opening. It was just a whim, you know. That day we were in the department store in Colchester. There was a girl and her mum who wanted your autograph, remember?"
Amy nodded.
"It was a funny sort of day. I felt like the hair was standing up on the back of my neck. Like we were being watched."
"You said you felt like someone was walking over your grave."
The Doctor raised his hand as though he was a child requesting permission to speak. "Umm, that might have been me. Well, not really walking over your grave, Rory. That's just weird, but well, I might have been in the same shop."
"I wondered if it was something like that. And the man with the baby?"
"That would be Craig."
"I thought you might have known him. He was just ordinary looking, but he seemed familiar. I kept thinking I recognised him, but maybe it was just the way people look when they're getting ready to run for their lives. He had a baby, and I kept thinking about... about Melody." Rory took a deep breath and stared at the twinkling lights of the tree.
"This would be her first Christmas. And I know she's had lots of Christmases, or that River has had a lot of Christmases..."
"More than I care to admit," River said.
Rory seemed not to have heard. "And I thought that, even if she wasn't here, I still could get her something. To prove that I still remembered."
"You went into that antique shop beside the bus stop," Amy said.
"I saw it in a box at the back of the shop, and it reminded me of one of the toys in that room in the orphanage. And... And I wondered if it might have been the same one, from 1969. Although I don't know how it would have got to an antique shop in Colchester. It was a stupid idea."
River peeled back the paper at last. Inside was a faded metal spinning top. It was yellow and decorated with figures. Without hesitation she put it on the floor and pushed the handle so that the body spun. She pushed it again and again so that it turned faster and faster.
"I kept it hidden. It wasn't supposed to be under the tree. I was going to just keep it, just to remember that she is still out there. And that I haven't... that we haven't forgotten the baby, even though she grew up without us."
The only sound was the top, spinning.
River said. "It always leans towards the smiling lady."
They watched as it slowed, and finally stopped.
Beside the smiling lady.
"You've seen it before," the Doctor said.
"Of course I have, sweetie. It is the same one, although it is a bit smaller than I remember." She turned it over. "See, I scraped my name on it."
Her name was not there. The shiny metal was unblemished.
"It's the same one. Of course it is. But that means I haven't done it yet... And that means that you... Oh, you terrible man." A grin spread across her face.
She gathered the Doctor into a hug. And kissed him, and tapped the red fez on his head warmly.
She gave Amy a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
Then she pulled Rory out of his seat and held him as tightly as she could for a very long time.
"I don't know if you know what it means. Or what it meant to that little girl. Or what it means now. But thank you. Thank you."
She was crying.
She will explain later.
---
Melody Pond watches the man in the red hat talk to Dr Renfrew. She cannot hear what they are saying. He looks up. She sees him wink.
She could kill him with her bare hands. One snap of the hyoid bone would be enough and wouldn't make a sound.
He finishes talking and shakes Dr Renfrew's hand. He waves to her window before he walks off into the night.
Dr Renfrew knocks on her door a little later. He is carrying the bag.
"A man came," he says slowly. Dr Renfrew is losing his mind, she thinks. His usefulness is running out. Perhaps she will kill him one day. "He brought presents. It's Christmas. There should be presents at Christmas. He says you should have them. Been a long time since someone brought gifts to the orphanage."
"Leave them there."
He puts the bag down, then looks at her as if he has never seen her before. "Merry Christmas."
Once he has gone, she looks inside the sack. It is full of old toys. A wooden boat, a box of dolls. They look like they have seen better days.
Melody thinks about the exercises that Madame Kovarian has given her. There is a treatise on the tactics of the Bravarian Galactic arm that she should be reading, or she should be meditating, or practicing her blaster technique.
Instead she reaches into the sack. Her hand comes across a spinning top.
There is still part of a label attached to it. It reads "...nd, love from Daddy."
Thoughtfully, she places it on the rug, pushes the handle and watches it spin. She wonders if it was a gift. She wonders if this 'Daddy' loved his child very much.
She decides she is going to write her name on it as soon as it stops spinning.
End