The Universe's Mixer

Jack stepped outside Torchwood and looked up.  The television report had said they were getting winter weather and they were right.   Snow was falling slow but steadily and there was a great measure of accumulation on the ground already.  He and Gwen had been busy as of late, trying to get their new 'home' set up properly.  But Jack needed a bit of a break, just to stretch his legs.

Taking a few steps forward more onto the street, just enough so that he could turn his head upwards as the snowflakes fell onto his face.  It was tangible and real and made him feel alive.  Jack needed that more than most, and even more so with the things that had happened as of late.

He had mortality but unlike anyone he knew. 

Jack sighed.  He hated having philosophical discussions with this subconscious.

The mall was sort of a strange place for Death to venture when not on the job but she couldn't stop herself from the irrepressible urge to people watch. She purchased a fountain drink and held it in her hand like a prop. There were so many people buying last minute gifts for the holidays, the hottest gift of the season being something called Zombie Mace. Death wondered curiously if it actually worked and although she had no one to try it on, purchased one for herself simply because she could.

There was a light hop in her step and she turned into a sunglasses boutique. She enjoyed trying them on, although the significance of the name brands was a little lost on her. So were the price tags. Although money wasn't a concern, Death wasn't nearly so interested in purchasing sunglasses as she was trying them on and striking funny poses in the tiny mirror she could barely see herself in.

The sales clerk crossed his arms and glared.

The actual meaning of life is in one of 10,000 books you're locked in a room with. You have time enough to check every single one, but you can't. You can only open 10 books total.

Note: All the books have normal titles. None gives a clue as to if it holds the secret

You're all handcuffed together in a circle, facing outward. Handcuffs can't be broken, but there's a key taped to the ceiling. The floor below is metal grating that leads to a bottomless pit. Every two hours the grating retracts half an inch away from the wall.

Note: Hours are not real time hours

Didi sat across from The City, her knees propped up against a table edge. Her toes tapped unnoticed inside her boots. Her head started rocking just lightly side to side. It wasn't actually quiet. Death could hear the hum of a fan, the tick of a clock and the static of white noise from a hidden camera lens. She looked back at The City and sighed, her smile sympathetic.

"You're mourning and that's okay. But they're not coming back. Keeping me here isn't going to change that."

Death slid back in her chair and stood up suddenly. If she was concerned about retaliation, she didn't appear to show it. Her boots clicked against the floor and she walked around the table until she stood behind The City. Her hand brushed through its hair and she slowly leaned forward and kissed the top of its head. The City disappeared from the police interrogation room. Death was left locked in. She glanced up at the two way mirror and waved.

"Do I get a phone call? Or is that only if I'm in jail?"

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