Meetings
Captain John Hart slumped further into his chair dejectedly. He didn’t want to be here but it had been a no-brainer of a choice really: murder rehab or trying to work out how to break out of a Judoon prison. He hadn’t liked those odds, so here he was, in rehab… again.
Grimly he surveyed the other people sitting in the circle. They were all human but obviously from different human colonies throughout the systems. Clothes and smell told you a lot about where people were from these days. The ones who looked posh looked very posh (and they’d obviously had baths some time in the last few days), but most were from the outer reaches of the Empire (and looked as if they’d never had a bath in their lives).
“Great.” He muttered quietly, whilst trying to only breathe through his mouth.
Worse than the stench was the fact that there wasn’t a single person in the room that he fancied. A fact that was pretty unusual as he was well aware that his tastes mainly tended towards “anything with a pulse”. He sighed.
When the door opened he was expecting the therapist for the session to walk in. She could easily have been the therapist. She was well dressed and was, thankfully, one of the ones who had bathed recently, but she didn’t stop at the therapist’s chair. She walked over to join the circle of murderers. Her neat blonde hair bobbed as if it were a single entity as she sat down and John found himself absently wondering whether it would feel so solid if he ran his fingers through it.
She caught his eye, and winked. John was pleasantly surprised and a little intrigued. He smiled back.
Then the therapist bustled in – a well dressed man in his 60’s with long grey hair, an overbite and, thankfully again, no unwashed smell – and took his chair, calling the group to order and explaining why they were there. As if they didn’t already know.
Then, by turns, each participant stood up and repeated the mantra.
“My name’s Patrick Wilson and I’m a murder addict.”
“My name’s Alice Dune and I’m a murder addict.”
“My name’s Mark Pearson and I’m a murder addict.”
“My name’s Davina Mistraya and I’m a murder addict.”
Then it was John’s turn. He dutifully stood up.
“My name’s John Hart, Captain John Hart, and I, well I’m a murder addict.” He smirked and looked over at the blonde woman. “But I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
She smiled back as he sat down and then looked away as if the neat red polish on her fingernails was the most interesting thing in the world.
On the mantra went, till it was her turn. Gracefully she stood up and looked around the group at everyone apart from John.
“My name’s River Song, Doctor River Song, and I, well I’m a murder addict.” She stated whilst looking at John and smirking. “But I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
John flat out grinned back at her.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, ignoring the rest of the group. The therapist was loudly protesting but they were both oblivious.
“Oh yes.” She breathed with a wide smile.
John stood up and held out his hand for her to take. She didn’t take it.
“Come on.” She said instead and started to leave the room.
As he followed her, John wondered if he’d ever stop smiling again. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
They walked side by side towards the exit of the rehabilitation building, pulling their guns from their concealed locations as they went. Sirens wailed and red lights flashed behind them.
River looked at John’s guns.
“Ex-Time Agency?” She asked him.
“Yup.” He answered and checked out her guns too. “Ex-Torchwood?” He asked.
“Yup.” She replied as they each pushed open one of the doors to exit the building.
Immediately there was a squawk overhead and a dark shadow loomed down towards them out of the sky.
River’s eyes went wide as John held out his arm. The creature landed on it delicately.
“River, meet Myfanwy.” He told her.
“Is that..?” She asked, taken aback but not afraid.
“Yes it is.” John grinned. He gestured with the hand holding the gun towards the crowd of Police racing towards them. “Shall we?”
River smiled, bent down to take off her stilettos and tucked the heels into her waistband.
“Lead the way.” She replied.
John threw the pteranodon up into the air and she took off towards the Police, scattering them exactly as intended. Then John and River ran into the fray, guns blazing.