We are fools to make war on our brothers in arms

[doesntlooktired]

It rarely snowed in London, not proper snow anyway, at least not snow like Harriet remembered from her childhood growing up in Yorkshire. But even so when she though about snow it was never her youth in Flydale North that came to mind but London streets on Christmas Day only three years ago. Despite appearances though, it hadn’t really been snow

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[sortofaman]

The dogs probably wouldn't have eaten it. Sycorax tasted a bit of sulfur.

The Doctor was riding, coat a contrast of dark against the light colour of Arthur, ready to keep going past, as he found that Harriet Jones seemed to think of him as a hindrance upon her, a nasty reminder of the past. But the horse caught the alien scent on the wind and slowed, and the Doctor paused with him, leaving light prints across the snow as they came towards her.

Sympathy was something the Doctor had tried to find, but wasn't certain of. Not yet.

[doesntlooktired]

It was obviously fitting that after having mostly avoided the Doctor he found her when she was holding the mask but Harriet couldn't say she appreciated the coincidence. She was in no mood to be judged by him.

Nothing about the Doctor could surprise her anymore so she made no comment on the horse as he rode towards where she had paused, still holding the mask in front of her.

"Doctor," she greeted and it came out harsher than she intended. There was no need to be rude, she told herself, she had been right and she had no need to feel defensive.

"Hello," she continued in a softer tone and she forced a smile to go with it.

[sortofaman]

The Doctor brought Arthur up short, now wishing the bloody horse hadn't been so damned nosy in the first place. He recognised what she was holding, of course, and now his mind was playing out a rather frantic battle between being a complete bastard and being kind. He wasn't certain which was more distasteful a compromise.

"Harriet Jones," he said in a greeting. "Christmas come early this year?"

Right, the bastard had won a parry.

[doesntlooktired]

"They do say history repeats itself as farce, Doctor," Harriet replied, pulling herself up straight so she didn't have to look so far up at him. "So instead of a whole warship, there's just a single mask. Something of an improvement."

[polly_okeefe]

Well, it had taken a while, but I had finally getting into the spirit of the season. I stood behind my snow barricade beside the path near the Compound doors, putting the finishing touches on a small pyramid of snowballs, keeping an eye out for Mother -- I mean, my prey. Other targets included Sean, Pacey, Daddy, Tim and Dick. Definitely Dick, though that probably qualified as a suicide mission. But after the last successful snowball fight, how bad could it be?

I picked up a snowball as I saw somebody coming up to the Compound, but aborted my targetting when I saw who it was. I gave the woman a smile and a wave. "Hello, Prime Minister," I said innocently, the pyramid of snowballs in plain view by my feet.

[doesntlooktired]

Harriet was distracted enough that she did not notice Polly until the girl called out to her and she turned to see the girl and her store of snowballs ahead of her. She was far too old to see the snow as an opportunity for fun and games, herself, but that did not mean she begrudged such things to the young. As long as they left her well alone, of course.

"Hello, Polly," she replied with a cheer that she did not really feel. She wasn't going to tell Polly to call her Harriet again if it hadn't taken the last time. There comes a point where it stops being friendly to insist and starts being just throwing your weight around.

"You know, I think there's something different about the weather lately but I can't quite put my finger on what," she added with a chuckle.

[polly_okeefe]

I laughed. But I also winced, remembering her admonition and my promise to call her "Harriet". But it was surprisingly hard. "Harriet" just didn't fit her. But I'd try harder next time.

"Well," I said, "Once I got over the shock -- and delivered some warm clothes to my parents -- I think I preferred this over the heatwave. At least I can sleep in my hut -- I mean, yurt."

Then I saw something in her hand. It looked a bit like a cattle skull, bleached dry in the desert or on one of Georgia O'Keefe's paintings. It was one of the last things I'd expected the woman to carry, and the surprise caused me to forget my politeness and ask, "what's that?"

[doesntlooktired]

"A mask," Harriet replied slowly. "I think it just arrived here this morning."

[bernicesurprise]

She'd raided the kitchen, ate her fill, grabbed some fish for Wolsey, and was headed back to her hut, or rather yurt, to continue her hibernation when she saw a woman up ahead of her on the path. Benny knew immediately who it was, though she didn't think they'd ever been formally introduced. Harriet looked oddly disconcerted, if in a very proper British way, and it raised alarms for Benny. Who knew what this island had been up to now? Coming up beside her, Benny could see the odd looking mask in Harriet's hands and she'd never been good at containing her curiosity.

"Madam Prime Minister, is everything all right?"

[doesntlooktired]

"Excuse me," Harriet exclaimed as she turned quickly towards the unfamiliar voice. Though she wasn't too surprised to find that she didn't actually know the woman at all. A certain amount of fame had been an occupational hazard in her previous job.

"I'm quite all right, thank you. The mask is a new arrival, that's all," she replied with a raised hand and she visibly steadied herself as she did so, so that none of her private thoughts showed through anymore. "And Harriet will do. I'm only a former Prime Minister, after all."

[bernicesurprise]

"I wouldn't say only, but thank you. Harriet it is." Benny took a closer look at the mask in Harriet's hand, trying not to be too obvious about it. She was pretty sure she failed miserably, but it was a fascinating design. Maybe if she played her cards right, Harriet would allow her to examine it. "I don't believe we're met before, I'm Bernice Summerfield. Professor of archeology and former traveling companion of the Doctor," Benny said with a smile. "Though I do hope you won't hold that against me."

[doesntlooktired]

"I always thought that the Doctor chose his companions well," Harriet replied. "It's good to meet you, Professor Summerfield."

"It's Sycorax in origin," she added in response to Benny's blatant staring at the mask. "If you'll pardon me answering before you've asked the question."

[coffee_sir]

Banon found the former Prime Minister first. The mask didn't smell good, but it smelled new and interesting, and the small dog bounded through the snow on smaller legs to nudge up against the woman's knees, looking for attention or better sniffing access to the mask.

"Fach!" Ianto called after her sharply, and at the sound of her master's voice, the corgi dropped to a seated position that didn't invade Harriet's personal space. She still looked up at the woman with imploring eyes, as if she might have a treat hidden away somewhere.

"She's incorrigible," Ianto said in an apologetic tone, closer now so that he could see just who Banon was bothering. And what she had in her hand. A slight frown pulled his brows together. "Island?" he asked.

[doesntlooktired]

"It would seem so," Harriet replied as she reached forward to absently scratch the Corgi's head with her free left hand. "You were with Torchwood 1 weren't you, Mr. Jones? Do you happen to recognise this by any chance?"

She held out the mask with her free right hand for him to look at.

[coffee_sir]

"Sycorax," he replied automatically, before his throat could go dry on him. Yes, he remembered that day. Ianto shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stood beside the steps.

"I wasn't... directly involved in that, but I recognize it."

[doesntlooktired]

"I was involved in that," Harriet replied though she couldn't imagine that Ianto didn't know that. "Directly. Apparently someone thinks I need to be reminded of that."

[imthegoodguy]

Benjamin, too, was wandering outside the compound, marveling as he supposed any newcomer would to the snow. How long had it been since he had last seen snow? Not as long as other people might expect, but still long enough to be amazed by it. He had never developed the working adult's apprehension to snow, having never been made to commute in it, and yet he had to suppress a childish urge to play in the snow for fear of being made to look a fool and standing out. This was more out of habit than necessity, though in the event that anyone came looking for him he certainly did not want to be ingrained in many people's memories as the middle aged man playing in the snow -- though concealing his identity on the same island as John Locke was a rather futile activity. Still, he persisted, hoping his affairs and Locke's would not intersect

[doesntlooktired]

"It isn't," Harriet replied. "I'm afraid to say, that on past record, it'd be painfully obvious if it was."

She knew that he was making a reference to the mask, of course, but she was in no real mood to talk about it with a stranger.

[imthegoodguy]

"I should have figured. Everyone's so young here. It's only natural that they'd celebrate."

He grinned, politely, but feeling a bit at odds with this woman's mood.

[doesntlooktired]

"You haven't been here long, is that right?" she asked, slightly surprised by that response. "The powers behind this Island apparently have a fondness for holidays. This year, people were only reduced to the age of children but last year things were far more serious. Numerous monsters and aliens from different worlds were brought here. Four people died and far more than that were injured. You'll hear stories about it before you've been here too long."

Harriet was generally good with people, though, and the man wasn't expecting to deal with her in such a melancholy mood so she changed the subject quickly by introducing herself with a show of her identification.

"Harriet Jones. Former Prime Minister."