![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mhalachaiI've officially freaked myself out.
Summary: He's known her for a century, and he just can't stay away.
Disclaimer: Russell T. Davis and the BBC own it all.
Rating: R for dark themes.
Setting/Spoilers: Set in "Dean Man Walking" (TW 2x07), dealing with a character introduced in that show.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness, Little Girl
Words: 350
Notes: My regular readers may know what I mean when I say that Little Girl reminds me of Elsa from Inevitable. And they will not be reassured.
~~~
He can't stay away.
Every decade, he finds himself back across the table from her, tarot cards and tea the false reality between them. He tells himself it's to save the world, to save the team, but in the end it's all a lie.
He's there to save himself and he knows there is no salvation in her dark eyes.
She is older than he is by centuries. She saw the sun dawn on Christ's crucifixion, and every day since. She knows more about human nature than he ever will and he hates her for it.
She is the perfect disguise, he thinks. A little girl, helpless, innocent, perfect in her white dress and ribbons in her hair. But he is alone amongst the living in knowing the truth. He has seen her, blood-soaked amidst the screams of her victims, laughing as the bodies rot at her feet.
She knows the future, and that is Jack's weakness. She knows what is to come, she holds answers as belief, and he can't stay away.
She has the body of a child and the memories of a fallen angel and he hates himself beyond measure when he himself falls into her world, her blood-soaked touch, the perverse sanctuary he finds when he dies a little death at her hands.
She smiles down upon him, and every time he sees benediction in the way his blood drips from her mouth.
~~~
You'll owe me a favor, she says, with that smile that promises his downfall. She knows what folly he is about to commit.
He lets out a sharp breath, wondering how many times it will be that she will slit his throat and revel in his life's blood, before it is over.
He wonders how long he will be able to stay away from her this time, after the pain she will carve from his flesh.
He wonders if the agony and the glory she promises is why he can't stay away.
He wonders if the release that she grants him is why he will always come back.
He wonders.
No.
Not really.
He doesn't wonder.
After all, he knows how weak he is.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Summary: He's known her for a century, and he just can't stay away.
Disclaimer: Russell T. Davis and the BBC own it all.
Rating: R for dark themes.
Setting/Spoilers: Set in "Dean Man Walking" (TW 2x07), dealing with a character introduced in that show.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness, Little Girl
Words: 350
Notes: My regular readers may know what I mean when I say that Little Girl reminds me of Elsa from Inevitable. And they will not be reassured.
He can't stay away.
Every decade, he finds himself back across the table from her, tarot cards and tea the false reality between them. He tells himself it's to save the world, to save the team, but in the end it's all a lie.
He's there to save himself and he knows there is no salvation in her dark eyes.
She is older than he is by centuries. She saw the sun dawn on Christ's crucifixion, and every day since. She knows more about human nature than he ever will and he hates her for it.
She is the perfect disguise, he thinks. A little girl, helpless, innocent, perfect in her white dress and ribbons in her hair. But he is alone amongst the living in knowing the truth. He has seen her, blood-soaked amidst the screams of her victims, laughing as the bodies rot at her feet.
She knows the future, and that is Jack's weakness. She knows what is to come, she holds answers as belief, and he can't stay away.
She has the body of a child and the memories of a fallen angel and he hates himself beyond measure when he himself falls into her world, her blood-soaked touch, the perverse sanctuary he finds when he dies a little death at her hands.
She smiles down upon him, and every time he sees benediction in the way his blood drips from her mouth.
You'll owe me a favor, she says, with that smile that promises his downfall. She knows what folly he is about to commit.
He lets out a sharp breath, wondering how many times it will be that she will slit his throat and revel in his life's blood, before it is over.
He wonders how long he will be able to stay away from her this time, after the pain she will carve from his flesh.
He wonders if the agony and the glory she promises is why he can't stay away.
He wonders if the release that she grants him is why he will always come back.
He wonders.
No.
Not really.
He doesn't wonder.
After all, he knows how weak he is.
end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-22 05:33 pm (UTC)