I'd better get thinking!!songofsongJuly 15 2011, 20:59:46 UTC
This was everything River Song's life had been building up to. Ever since she was a child. The Doctor, the spaceman, the monster in her nightmares, the man she had been taught to bring down by any means necessary. The Doctor had been looking for Melody Pond, but he was too late. This was River Song, grown into a dangerous young woman, with only one mission in mind.
He knew where to go because she'd told him. Time travel was strange like that; rarely was a victim at the place of their assassination because their killer had told them to be. But then this was the Doctor, and he didn't do normal.
In front of him sat a tepid cup of tea that he'd been steadily working on for the last hour. He wasn't sure when, but it happened here, and it would happen soon.
For as long as the Doctor had been here, she had been watching him, questioning her approach, needing to be sure it really was him. She had only ever seen footages and images of this man, but there was no mistaking that floppy hair and the proudly-displayed bowtie. This was the warrior.
She studied him carefully out of the corner of her eye, the gun secure against her thigh, cold but reassuring.
To the untrained eye --or perhaps even to the trained one-- he might have appeared as though he were doing little but sitting there, occasionally swishing the cup in his hand and staring into it as if looking for answers.
Well. In a way, he was.
She'd spoken about this to him only once, and it was obvious enough to him then that she hadn't wanted to have the discussion. So he listened. Listened intently so she'd never have to speak it again. He knew what to look out for. A reflection caught against the side of his mug. He glanced his eyes up and watched as a man in a leather hat left the room.
It was time.
"River Song," he said aloud, not turing back towards her. He knew she was there, and knew she was listening.
River tensed as her name was spoken. He knew she was there. He knew who she was. Calming her urge to grab her weapon, she slowly raised from her seat. Her boots clicked quietly on the floor as she approached the seat he offered, passing behind him with steady, slow footsteps. There was caution in every movement, calculated and wary. She took the seat opposite him, her eyes trained on his, fierce and guarded.
As she sat, the Doctor took a good look at her. She was young here, younger than he'd ever seen her. Well. Save for that baby he never managed to save.
Promised to save. Ah, but too late now. Only it wasn't. He might not have been able to save Melody Pond, but River Song? Oh he'd all ready saved her, in more ways than one, and he'd continue to do so with all that he had.
"I'd offer tea, but..." he said, gesturing a hand vaguely towards the mug in front of him, a slight flourish of his fingers.
He felt sad, so very sad. She looked harsh. A harshness she'd only learned because of him. Any way he painted it it was a fact he couldn't deny.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows against the table. "So," he said. "How does this go?"
There was no smile on River's lips, no hint of warmth in her eyes. It was as if Kovarian had somehow torn every remnant of hope and happiness out of this orphaned child. Because that's what she was. A child without parents, without love.
But now that child had grown-up, and she still hadn't found a way to fill that hole.
She was convinced killing the Doctor would save her.
When the Doctor spoke to her, River tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes remaining locked upon him. "What do you mean?" she asked, her tone cold, her eyes blazing.
The Doctor tilted his head upwards a little and echoed a laugh. There was no humour in it though, not even a drop. Empty.
Everything about the woman in front of him told him how he'd failed. He'd failed himself, but worse, he'd failed her. Failed her when he'd promised not to.
He clasped his hands together in front of him, and flicked his head to the side to shift a fallen piece of hair from his eyes.
"Well," he said, his voice measured and quiet. "You're here to kill me. I'd say I'm new to the concept but people try and kill me fairly often. I don't usually let them, though. So tell me," he repeated himself, "how does this go?"
River felt her body tense at his words. He knew. How did he know?
But, of course, this was the Doctor. The man who controlled the whole of time and space, the man who could be anywhere at anytime. He knew everything.
It only highlighted how dangerous this was going to be, and yet, he seemed calm. Accepting. Like he had been waiting for this day to come.
Or perhaps it was a bluff, a scheme devised by this notorious trickster.
"When you least expect it," came River's cool damnation. Oh, she wasn't going to tell him what she had planned. She wasn't that foolish. "You will fall so far from the almighty pedestal you've created. You will fall and die like a mortal."
"Ah yes yes," he said. "What I've created." He glanced down at the table between them before lifting his gaze again and affecting a smile.
"Well," he said, flourishing his hand as though it were nothing at all. "Everyone has to die eventually."
Again, he reached for the cold tea in front of him, took a sip and screwed his face up as he realised once again it was cold and unpleasant. A moments respite from the topic at hand.
"You know," he continued on, conversationally. "I'm not easy to kill. Maybe I could help you. Or, no, I suppose you've got it all worked out. The minutiae and all that."
River's expression darkened at his unaffected state. He was so fearless, toying her with such words, not even a grimace of concern for whatever might be about to befall him. She had expected him to be arrogant, but this was insulting.
"No, I know you," she said, her tone on edge, her eyes hard. She was convinced some kind of game playing was at work. Why else would he smile at her that way and openly admit he would die at her hand?
"I know what you're trying to do. They told me the way you talk yourself out of death, play with people's minds and manipulate them. It's not going to work with me."
As he watched her talk, so very adamant about him, he couldn't help but smile a little again, even if sadly. She'd always be that way, he knew, always be so headstrong and so certain. Always willing too, to tell him just who and what he was. Some things would never change.
"Yes," he agreed with a nod of his head, "I do do that. Have done that. Don't suppose I'll be doing it in future. But tell me, River Song, if I'm so clever, why would I do it to you when you can quite clearly see right through me? Hmm?"
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And it was current sat directly across from her.
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In front of him sat a tepid cup of tea that he'd been steadily working on for the last hour. He wasn't sure when, but it happened here, and it would happen soon.
All he could do, was wait.
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She studied him carefully out of the corner of her eye, the gun secure against her thigh, cold but reassuring.
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Well. In a way, he was.
She'd spoken about this to him only once, and it was obvious enough to him then that she hadn't wanted to have the discussion. So he listened. Listened intently so she'd never have to speak it again. He knew what to look out for. A reflection caught against the side of his mug. He glanced his eyes up and watched as a man in a leather hat left the room.
It was time.
"River Song," he said aloud, not turing back towards her. He knew she was there, and knew she was listening.
"Take a seat."
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"Doctor."
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Promised to save. Ah, but too late now. Only it wasn't. He might not have been able to save Melody Pond, but River Song? Oh he'd all ready saved her, in more ways than one, and he'd continue to do so with all that he had.
"I'd offer tea, but..." he said, gesturing a hand vaguely towards the mug in front of him, a slight flourish of his fingers.
He felt sad, so very sad. She looked harsh. A harshness she'd only learned because of him. Any way he painted it it was a fact he couldn't deny.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows against the table. "So," he said. "How does this go?"
Reply
But now that child had grown-up, and she still hadn't found a way to fill that hole.
She was convinced killing the Doctor would save her.
When the Doctor spoke to her, River tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes remaining locked upon him. "What do you mean?" she asked, her tone cold, her eyes blazing.
Reply
Everything about the woman in front of him told him how he'd failed. He'd failed himself, but worse, he'd failed her. Failed her when he'd promised not to.
He clasped his hands together in front of him, and flicked his head to the side to shift a fallen piece of hair from his eyes.
"Well," he said, his voice measured and quiet. "You're here to kill me. I'd say I'm new to the concept but people try and kill me fairly often. I don't usually let them, though. So tell me," he repeated himself, "how does this go?"
Reply
But, of course, this was the Doctor. The man who controlled the whole of time and space, the man who could be anywhere at anytime. He knew everything.
It only highlighted how dangerous this was going to be, and yet, he seemed calm. Accepting. Like he had been waiting for this day to come.
Or perhaps it was a bluff, a scheme devised by this notorious trickster.
"When you least expect it," came River's cool damnation. Oh, she wasn't going to tell him what she had planned. She wasn't that foolish. "You will fall so far from the almighty pedestal you've created. You will fall and die like a mortal."
Reply
"Well," he said, flourishing his hand as though it were nothing at all. "Everyone has to die eventually."
Again, he reached for the cold tea in front of him, took a sip and screwed his face up as he realised once again it was cold and unpleasant. A moments respite from the topic at hand.
"You know," he continued on, conversationally. "I'm not easy to kill. Maybe I could help you. Or, no, I suppose you've got it all worked out. The minutiae and all that."
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"You don't think I can do it, do you?"
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Maybe it was time to go, maybe the version of the woman he knew in front of him was right. Maybe.
Again, he smiled to her, and spoke his response with utter sincerity.
"Oh River. If anyone could, it would be you."
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"I know what you're trying to do. They told me the way you talk yourself out of death, play with people's minds and manipulate them. It's not going to work with me."
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"Yes," he agreed with a nod of his head, "I do do that. Have done that. Don't suppose I'll be doing it in future. But tell me, River Song, if I'm so clever, why would I do it to you when you can quite clearly see right through me? Hmm?"
He paused just a moment as he watched her.
"Always believe what people tell you, do you?"
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