Author's Note: Thanks to the following people for reviewing the previous chapter – MayFairy, Aietradaea, EmmaMarie, Trindajae, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei and Son of Whitebeard.

CHAPTER THREE

"You've shot it!" the Doctor yelled, his voice managing to be both furious and incredulous at the same time. "You've shot my TARDIS! You've shot the console!"

I was clinging for all I was worth to the railing around the glass console platform, holding on with one hand, my smoking gun in the other, while the TARDIS bucked and whirled wildly. All the lights were madly flashing on and off, while huge gouts of steam and putrid wafts of smoke erupted from the damaged controls. Amy and Rory were hanging off the other side of the console, desperately trying to keep their balance.

I wasn't even sure how it had happened. I was an expert with weapons of every sort. It had all been part of my training from childhood, when I was forced to practice over and and over again, until I was absolutely flawless. Melody Pond, the ultimate killer, the perfect assassin. So how was it possible that I had lost control of my gun as soon as I entered the TARDIS? How had I managed to unintentionally fire a bullet directly into the console casing, causing the TARDIS to careen uncontrollably through the Time Vortex?

Amongst all the confusion, I felt soft, gentle laughter brushing the back of my mind. Startled, I glanced around at the panicked faces of my companions – certainly no laughter there. A cold chill worked its way up my spine. It was weird...if I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the TARDIS herself...but no, that was ridiculous. The TARDIS was only a ship. A magnificent, wonderful ship, to be sure, but just a ship. She wasn't alive. She couldn't be manipulating the situation. I was letting all the chaos get to me. I had to pull myself together, right now.

"It's your fault!" I shrieked at the Doctor, as he stumbled around the console, frantically working the controls.

"ARRGGGH!" he shouted into my face, his expression one of sheer exasperation. "How's it my fault?"

"You said guns didn't work in this place," I retorted, reasonably enough in my opinion, because he had said that very thing. "You said we were in a state of temporal grace!"

The Doctor grabbed a lever and sawed it back and forth, with no discernible effect on the shuddering TARDIS whatsoever.

"That was a clever lie, you idiot!" he snapped. "Anyone could tell that was a clever lie!"

Despite his anger and the looming crash landing, I couldn't help noticing the way his hair was flopping into his eyes like a little kid as he wrestled with the controls. Damn, but he was attractive, there was no denying it. Time and place, Mels, I told myself sternly, pulling my eyes away from him. After all, this was the man I was here to kill, assuming any of us survived this, which right now wasn't at all certain. Time and place!

Instead of slowing, the shaking of the TARDIS intensified, the internal dimensions seeming to warp in and out in a sickening fashion. I closed my eyes, struggling not to throw up. The Doctor was still yelling unintelligibly – God, did the man ever shut up? - and I could hear Amy screaming.

Suddenly, there was an enormous crash, as though we had collided with a mountain. All the breath was crushed out of my lungs and every one of my bones felt like it had been jolted out of place. The TARDIS came to a dead stop and the lights blinked out, leaving the console room in total darkness, apart from the spectacular fountain of sparks cascading from the central console. Thick, choking smoke billowed around me everywhere, the acrid smell hacking at my throat and bringing tears to my eyes.

"OUT!" the Doctor roared. "GET OUT!"

Amy and Rory fumbled their way down the stairs to the exterior doors, coughing harshly as they went. The Doctor seized me by the wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, almost bruising, as he snatched me away from the railing and hauled me along after them.

"Out, out, out!" he ordered again, forcibly thrusting me ahead of him through the doors. "Everybody out! Don't breathe the smoke! Just get out!"

Gasping for breath, I doubled over, trying to clear my airways of the foul smoke. However, like any well-trained assassin, my brain was already leaping ahead, scanning my immediate surroundings. The mission always came first, no matter what. That was the very first thing I had ever learned and I was hardly likely to forget it now. We appeared to be in a huge room, with high, vaulted ceilings and walls panelled in a dark wood. The floor was made of cold marble, laid out in enormous black and white squares. Shattered glass was sprinkled everywhere – it appeared the TARDIS had smashed her way through one of the large plate-glass windows. But most significant of all were the huge scarlet floor-to-ceiling banners which hung in the room, each emblazoned with a black cross with broken arms, one of the most hated and feared symbols in human history.

Swastikas, I thought, recalling with horror my throwaway comment back in the wheat field about killing Hitler. No...no, surely not...

"Where are we?" Amy gasped, falling to her knees in the dust and broken glass and coughing as if she was about to bring her lungs up any second.

"A room," the Doctor responded, holding a red silk handkerchief over his mouth and nose to screen out the smoke.

"What room?" Rory demanded hoarsely, his arm protectively around Amy.

"I don't know!" the Doctor said, his voice irritable and almost petulant. "I haven't memorised every room in the Universe. I had yesterday off!"

Again, I heard the soft laughter in the back of my mind. This time, I had no doubt the mental voice was coming from the TARDIS. Spinning around, I grasped the door-frame to support myself and stared back into the smoke-filled interior. What was she doing? Why had she brought us here? And the sound of her laughter – it was almost fond, almost forbearing, as if she knew me and everything that I was.

But before I could make any sense of it, the Doctor was there, pulling me roughly away from the door. "Mels, don't go in there!" he snapped, taking advantage of my momentary inattention to snatch the gun out of my hand.

"Oi!" I protested hotly, more annoyed with myself than I was with him. What kind of an assassin was I? I had to stop allowing all these weird and unexpected events to catch me off guard. The mission! The mission was what counted! I had to stay focused. Fortunately, the gun had already served its purpose and was no longer essential. Now I just had to make sure I followed the rest of my plan.

"Bad smoke!" the Doctor exclaimed, slamming the door of the time machine shut with an emphatic bang. "Don't breathe the bad, bad smoke. Bad, deadly smoke, because somebody shot my TARDIS!"

This last was said with a furious glare aimed directly at me. I gave him a cheeky, unapologetic grin and cautiously edged away from him through the smoke that was still wafting through the air. Fortunately, at that moment, Rory and Amy distracted his attention. They were crouched on the floor beside the body of what appeared to be a middle-aged man with small, round glasses. He was dressed in a smart grey uniform, trimmed with red, and was lying flat on his back.

Rory was leaning over him, his fingers professionally placed against his neck, obviously looking for a pulse.

"Doctor, this guy, I think he's hurt."

The Doctor came towards them, the gun held awkwardly in his hand. He looked down at it and shifted uncomfortably, as if he didn't like touching it, but didn't quite know what to do with it either.

"No, hang on," Rory amended with some surprise, as the man began to stir. "No...no, he's...fine."

Apparently frustrated at having to hold the gun, the Doctor wandered over to a nearby desk and shoved the weapon into a fruit bowl, where it sat looking incongruous in amongst the bananas and apples and grapes. At that moment, the man who had been sheltering behind the desk chose to rise shakily to his feet.

"Oooh, hello!" the Doctor said cheerfully. "Sorry...is this your office? Had a sort of collision with my vehicle. Fault's on both sides, we'll say no more about..."

And then the man turned and we were all able to see exactly who it was. Dark brown hair, neatly parted and slicked across from right to left; piercing dark brown eyes; a small, rectangular moustache; upright military carriage, as stiff and straight as a poker; wearing the distinctive khaki uniform of the Third Reich, decorated with symbols of rank.

"...it," the Doctor finished lamely, licking his suddenly dry lips, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Stunned, Amy and Rory rose to their feet and came to stand one on each side of the Doctor, both of them gazing at the man facing them as if they had seen a ghost.

"Is that...?" Amy whispered. "No. No...it can't be, Doctor?"

"Thank you," Hitler said in a heavily accented voice. "Whoever you are, I think you have just saved my life."

"Believe me," the Doctor muttered, still staring in shocked dismay. "It was an accident."

Hitler's eyes moved past him and settled on the TARDIS. "What is this thing?" he demanded, marching around from behind his desk and heading curiously towards the time machine.

Amy clutched convulsively at the Doctor's arm. "What did he mean, we just saved his life?" she demanded in a fierce undertone. "We could not have saved Hitler."

The Doctor took a deep breath and spun around angrily on me. "You see?" he said accusingly. "Time travel! It never goes to plan!"

I didn't bother to answer. After all, he had a point, this was...sort of...my fault, depending how you looked at it. But there was absolutely zero chance of me admitting that, to him of all people. So instead I just shrugged and rolled my eyes as annoyingly as I could.

"This box..." Hitler interjected, running his hands over the outside of the TARDIS. "What is it?"

The irate Time Lord turned around slowly, as if he was exerting all his self-control not to start throwing punches. "It's a police telephone box, from London, England!" he said tightly. "That's right, Adolf. The British are coming!"

Just then, the man Rory had found stretched out on the floor managed to climb to his feet behind the Doctor.

"Stop him!" Hitler yelled. Without warning, the German leader drew his side-arm and began firing his pistol wildly over the Doctor's shoulder, aiming at the other man. The Doctor ducked and I heard Rory shouting, before everything else was drowned out by the roaring sound of gunfire.

At first it felt like someone had hit me in the stomach hard. Caught by surprise, I doubled over, clutching at my abdomen, not quite sure what had happened. I'm winded, I thought. Something hit me and I'm winded. I'll be all right in a minute. But then the pain began, searing, burning, flaying me alive from the inside out.

This wasn't meant to happen. This wasn't part of the plan!

And under my hand, I felt the warm, sticky fluid starting to flow and I knew it was blood.