Fic: A Kiss before Dying (Doctor Who/Torchwood, PG-13)
Title: A Kiss before Dying.
Author: Prochytes.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood.
Rating: PG-13. Angst.
Characters/Pairing: Jack Harkness/Melody Pond.
Disclaimer: All the Beeb’s.
Summary: Melody was less than candid about who she had been.
Word Count: 571.
A/N: Spoilers for Doctor Who “Let’s Kill Hitler”, for Torchwood to the end of S3, and for the Old!Who story “Remembrance of the Daleks”.
Melody knew that he was coming. She felt the sleeting seconds dance out of his path. But by then the arm was already around her shoulders.
“Melody Pond! Long time; no see.”
“Melody Pond?” She was sure he had not met her in Mels’s body. Worth a shot. “Umm... I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“Oh, we’ve shared that dance before, Melody.” The casual strength of the hug could be a problem. Even for a hemi-demi-semi-Gallifreyan. “As one pro to another, the way you played me in Cardiff was something special. Still stacking the deck, Tarot Girl?”
“What can I say?” Mels smiled up at him flirtatiously. Dismemberment, possibly. Or something that crippled without making the fatal (aha aha) mistake of killing him. “Everyone needs a little Faith. I just gave you what you wanted. It’s easy to be a prophet when you’ve already lived the future.”
“How did that body die, then?”
“Your little brother blew it up. It’s why The Silence never bothered to craft a bespoke psychopath for you, Jack. You’re so good at making them yourself.”
“That’s not the only body you’ve lost, though. How many dry runs did you need to make it to puberty, Mels? The one that died in Shoreditch in 1963...”
“That body was broken by the Daleks. It had no chance.” Mels swallowed. “I got too close, spying on the all-time record-holders at murdering Time Lords. They never realized who I was, even after they made me their battle-computer. But it’s an ill wind; I still have their files inside my head.” She grinned. “And believe me: one day, I’m going to make them beg.”
“So many ends. So many changes in the Melody. Anyone would think you want to die.”
Mels’s smile vanished. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“You think regeneration is like trying on a dress? When I come back, I’m the same. That’s my burden. When you die, a whole new woman walks away.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You want to die, Melody, because, however much you fight it, you want to change. Every rebirth opens up a window for redemption, a chance to undo what The Silence made you. Congratulations. You’re the only person in history who might be able to win at Russian Roulette.”
“Is that what you believe, Captain Jack?” She pulled free from his grip, and wheeled to face him. “Then do it. Kill me. End Mels. Right here; right now. If you’re so sure.”
“No. You may have grown, Melody, but you’re still little more than a child.”
“Really?” She realized now that she was trembling. “From what I hear, that’s never stopped you before. Hey, hey, Captain J., how many kids did you kill today?”
He stared at her impassively for a moment. Then he bent down again, and kissed her on the lips. Mels knew it for a kiss that expected nothing from her, except what she chose to give in return. That was a terror she had never tasted.
“So,” he said, when he finally pulled away, “how long have I got?”
“About half an hour.” Mels found her voice with difficulty. “Give or take.”
He nodded. “Juice of the Judas Tree. Good choice. I’ll find somewhere to go until it’s done. The dance is over, Melody.” She watched as he started to walk away. “But trust me: the song hasn’t even started.”
FINIS
Author: Prochytes.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood.
Rating: PG-13. Angst.
Characters/Pairing: Jack Harkness/Melody Pond.
Disclaimer: All the Beeb’s.
Summary: Melody was less than candid about who she had been.
Word Count: 571.
A/N: Spoilers for Doctor Who “Let’s Kill Hitler”, for Torchwood to the end of S3, and for the Old!Who story “Remembrance of the Daleks”.
Melody knew that he was coming. She felt the sleeting seconds dance out of his path. But by then the arm was already around her shoulders.
“Melody Pond! Long time; no see.”
“Melody Pond?” She was sure he had not met her in Mels’s body. Worth a shot. “Umm... I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“Oh, we’ve shared that dance before, Melody.” The casual strength of the hug could be a problem. Even for a hemi-demi-semi-Gallifreyan. “As one pro to another, the way you played me in Cardiff was something special. Still stacking the deck, Tarot Girl?”
“What can I say?” Mels smiled up at him flirtatiously. Dismemberment, possibly. Or something that crippled without making the fatal (aha aha) mistake of killing him. “Everyone needs a little Faith. I just gave you what you wanted. It’s easy to be a prophet when you’ve already lived the future.”
“How did that body die, then?”
“Your little brother blew it up. It’s why The Silence never bothered to craft a bespoke psychopath for you, Jack. You’re so good at making them yourself.”
“That’s not the only body you’ve lost, though. How many dry runs did you need to make it to puberty, Mels? The one that died in Shoreditch in 1963...”
“That body was broken by the Daleks. It had no chance.” Mels swallowed. “I got too close, spying on the all-time record-holders at murdering Time Lords. They never realized who I was, even after they made me their battle-computer. But it’s an ill wind; I still have their files inside my head.” She grinned. “And believe me: one day, I’m going to make them beg.”
“So many ends. So many changes in the Melody. Anyone would think you want to die.”
Mels’s smile vanished. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“You think regeneration is like trying on a dress? When I come back, I’m the same. That’s my burden. When you die, a whole new woman walks away.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You want to die, Melody, because, however much you fight it, you want to change. Every rebirth opens up a window for redemption, a chance to undo what The Silence made you. Congratulations. You’re the only person in history who might be able to win at Russian Roulette.”
“Is that what you believe, Captain Jack?” She pulled free from his grip, and wheeled to face him. “Then do it. Kill me. End Mels. Right here; right now. If you’re so sure.”
“No. You may have grown, Melody, but you’re still little more than a child.”
“Really?” She realized now that she was trembling. “From what I hear, that’s never stopped you before. Hey, hey, Captain J., how many kids did you kill today?”
He stared at her impassively for a moment. Then he bent down again, and kissed her on the lips. Mels knew it for a kiss that expected nothing from her, except what she chose to give in return. That was a terror she had never tasted.
“So,” he said, when he finally pulled away, “how long have I got?”
“About half an hour.” Mels found her voice with difficulty. “Give or take.”
He nodded. “Juice of the Judas Tree. Good choice. I’ll find somewhere to go until it’s done. The dance is over, Melody.” She watched as he started to walk away. “But trust me: the song hasn’t even started.”
FINIS