Yowzah Oneshot Collection (2)

73(G)

           This Girl's A Silhouette

                        leiascully

The light wakes her. Before River's eyes are really even open, she's got her pistol leveled at the source of the light, a big blue box that has materialized in her room. The man closes the door of the box carefully behind him, extinguishing the light, but there's enough of an ambient glow for her to keep him in her sights. He waves the sonic screwdriver around almost absently and then tucks it back into his jacket.

"Sorry," he says, with a charming crooked smile. "Didn't mean to startle you. That ought to take care of the security systems for a bit. Melody Pond, I presume. Oh yes, I know all about you. May I sit down? Thanks." He settles himself in the single straight-backed chair in the sparsely furnished room and crosses one leg over the other, his hands clasped around his knees. "By the way, I'm the Doctor. I expect you knew that."

"They said the TARDIS made a noise when it landed," she tells him, sitting up slowly with her pistol still aimed at his chest.

"Nah," the Doctor says dismissively. "Only if you leave the brakes on. Someone very clever taught me to fly the TARDIS properly. You'd like her, in fact."

"I'm not listening to you," she said. "The Doctor lies. That's the first rule."

He nods. "Quite right of you. But you can trust me, Melody Pond."

"Or I could shoot you," she says. "Or I could press one button and have the whole station after you. What do you think of that?"

"Certainly you could," he agrees. "But I'm not sure you will, not just yet. I intrigue you, after all. Your greatest enemy, waltzing into your room in a big blue box in the middle of the night, and then he sits down to have a conversation. Not quite what you expected, eh?"

"You're rather scrawnier than you looked in the photos," she says critically. "Bit bowlegged as well. But otherwise, yes, what I expected."

"Ouch," he says, rubbing his hands together. "You never did hold back. Honesty is the best policy, though, and it's good to know you were never afraid of me."

"I'll have your screwdriver," she tells him, holding out her free hand. "And any other gadget you happen to be carrying."

"Not a lot of cabinets need putting up in here anyway," he says, opening his jacket and dipping his hand into the inside pocket. He tosses the screwdriver to her. "You'll have one of your own one day, you know. Ah, but that would be spoilers, I suppose."

He looks older than she expected, and sadder too. "Why are you here?" she demands.

"It's your birthday," he tells her. "I had a little gift for you from your parents. They're a bit indisposed, so I told them I'd pop over. You're what, fourteen now? Give or take a few centuries, naturally, since Madame Kovarian saw fit to whisk you out of your own era. Still, I can't help but think she did you a favor, in a way." He looks her over with a sort of sad amusement. "You won't have much to fear in this universe."

"Lying again," she says. "I haven't got parents. I was grown here at the compound, optimized to destroy you."

"Of course you've got parents," the Doctor says, standing up. He paces about and she says nothing but keeps her pistol sighted on him. "You've got wonderful parents who love you very much. Some of the best people I know, your parents. Human to the core, but incredible people."

"Weapons aren't born," she tells him. "They're created."

From the set of his shoulders, she can tell that he's angry. "Is that what they've been telling you? You're a weapon they built?"