A Night At Stormcage

River Song smiled cattishly at the guard, who looked nervously back. He was new here, but he’d heard the whispers. Miss Song. She was only here because she wanted to be. What sane person would want to stay in a prison?!? Sure, Stormcage Containment Facility was a rather clean place to be held, but it was still a prison! The guard couldn’t understand it at all.

“Are you all right sweetie?” the prisoner purred at him from her bed.

The guard looked away, realising he’d been staring. And why did it have to be him to watch the prisoner? It was only his first week here! He let his gaze slip back to her and she grinned.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not escaping quite yet.” She paused. “But I’ll let you know if I do.”

He looked away again.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. “Have I scared you off?”

He looked at her then. “No.” He hoped she hadn’t heard the tremor in his voice.

“Good boy,” she told him. “Never let the enemy see your fear.”

He looked her over. She was the enemy. He could see it in her posture, in her voice, and in the gleam in her eye. She was a proud creature. She was like the large cats they had back on his home-planet. There the Katten played with their food before the kill – letting it think that it could escape before the final blow. That’s what Miss Song was. She was playing with him. He shook his head. No, he told himself. He was in control here. He had the weapon, the training and the key. There was nothing she could do about it. She was just playing head games. He was perfectly safe. Even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. Deep down inside, he knew it was Miss Song with all the power. She was the professional, not him. And she knew it too.

She smiled at him and rolled on her back.

“So sweetie, tell me about yourself.”

“What?” he asked, sure he’d misheard.

She lifted her head. “Tell me about yourself,” she repeated. “If we’re going to be here all night, I’d like to know whose guarding me.”

He didn’t respond. She gave a chuckle.

“Let me guess,” she said, turning back on her stomach. “You’re from some small planet on the Outer Rims.”

He took a step back. What was she? A mind reader? “How did you-”

“How did I guess?” she interrupted. “Simple, really.” She gestured to his face. “That mark, of course.”

The guard relaxed slightly. The tattoo, of course. She wasn’t a psychic after all. The mark on his cheek was a Rite of Passage mark for his tribe.

“So what is a little hunter boy like you doing in the big bad galaxy out here?” she asked.

He hesitated. Why should he tell her? Then again, it’s not like it was important. His whole life was unimportant to the grand scheme of things, what could she get out of it.

“I got bored.” He told her, sitting down next to her cage, leaning against the bars.

“Bored?” she asked.

“My world was just so…so small.” He continued. He knew he should just shut up, stand up and do his job, but it felt so good to talk to someone, even if it was just some criminal. “I wanted to see more.”

“Ah,” River said. “I know what you mean.”

“Really?” he asked, intrigued. If she wanted more, why was she continually returning to a prison world? He couldn’t understand it. The moment he had gotten a good enough reputation to get away from this planet, the better.