| Date: 17 December 2007
Characters: The Master, The Fifth Doctor Location: outside Link to IJ: thread #12353 |
 The Master wandered about the halls of the hotel, and finally made it outside. He needed some fresh air to clear his head and quieten the drums that had been pounding relentlessly ever since he turned up in this bizarre place.
He grinned as he imagined the Doctor's face when he discovered he wasn't in the TARDIS where he'd left him. He grinned even wider when he saw who was walking down the street towards him. |
 The Doctor's exploration of the town came to a sudden halt when he looked up and saw the man grinning at him. He had to do a double-take, uncertain that he'd seen correctly.
"No, that... Can't be right. It can't be you!" |
| "Oh, damn. You recognise me? Just like that? Well, that was less fun than I anticipated." The Master pouted, and eyed the Doctor lasciviously. "I must admit, though, when you said there was another one of you running about, I didn't expect this version. Always was rather fond of you in this form." |
| "You've got a point, actually. I shouldn't recognise you since you used all your regenerations. And I don't remember this one."
The Doctor walked a slow circle around the Master, studying him carefully. "I take it you escaped Castrovalva, then? And for you, it was some time ago, hmm?" |
| "Ah well, I suppose we just know each too well not to recognise each other instinctively. Most annoying."
The Master waited patiently while the Doctor circled him. A small smile played on his lips. "Some time, yes. Not very long at all for you, I think? You feel... newly regenerated?" |
| The Doctor stopped abruptly. "So," he said. "You're behind this, then? Pulling people out of their place and time?"
It didn't make sense, not exactly, but it certainly made more sense than the strange comfort of finally finding a familiar person - even if they were wearing an unfamiliar face. |
| "Ironically, I thought you were behind it when I arrived. A later version of you. Which made a lot of sense as he was the last person I saw before I left and the first person I saw when I got here."
He sighed. "Unfortunately, no. This is none of my doing. I appear to be stuck here too. Along with multiple versions of you and goodness knows how many other people. Though I'm taking the existence of other people on faith at the moment. The only people I've actually seen so far are both you." |
| "Well," said the Doctor, grinning, "aren't you lucky?" Cautiously, he held out a hand.
"Since we're both trapped here, perhaps a truce? Seems like the sensible thing to do." He didn't remotely trust the Master, but the last thing he wanted was a fight. |
| It made sense, and for some reason the Master felt far more trusting of this version of the Doctor. He took the hand and shook it. "Agreed," he said, then gave a twisted grin. "For the moment, at least."
He held the Doctor's hand a second or two longer than was strictly necessary, ridiculously grateful for the relatively friendly contact. Then he shook that feeling off quickly, along with the Doctor's hand, and stepped away, shoving his hands in his pockets and gazing around at the deserted street. "So. What have you managed to find out?" |
| "Not a lot, I'm afraid." The Doctor mimicked the Master's gesture, shoving his hands into his pockets. They were safer there. "I've discovered this is a rather good place for tea. And there was a perplexing fellow called Jack. Other than that, I haven't really spoken to anyone. How about you?" |
| Oh, perfect. The Doctor - the other Doctor - hadn't been lying then. There really was at least one Jack here.
The Master raised his eyebrows. "Jack? Tall, brawny, impossibly handsome, looks stunning on his knees? Oh, and can't die?" Well, at least this place wasn't going to be dull. |
| The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Possibly. I suppose he's one of your lackeys then? I should have known better than to trust him." |
| Oh, yes, definitely not dull. If nothing else, at least he could work on sowing seeds of distrust amongst the rest of the people here.
He smirked. "I suppose you could say that. He's certainly very good at doing what I tell him to." He was feeling good. He tossed the Doctor an impish look, and bounced away to look in a shop window. |
| The Doctor ambled along behind, trying to figure out where in his personal time-line the Master could be from. He recognised him as the Master, which meant he'd got a new set of regenerations from somewhere...
"Well," he said aloud, "I'll be sure to keep an eye on him, then." He leaned against the wall, smiling despite himself. This new Master's childish antics were almost endearing. "How far ahead are you? Have I changed much, where you're from?" |
| It was a fishing shop, the windows lined with rods and stools and other paraphernalia. How incredibly boring. The Master glanced sideways at the Doctor, wondering how much to tell him.
"I'm a long, long way ahead of you," he said at last. "And you haven't changed much." He grinned, eyes dancing playfully. "You've gone through five regenerations, but you really haven't changed much." |
| "Five? Goodness." The Doctor's eye caught the sports shop next door, and the display of cricket equipment in the window. As he wandered over for a look, he said, "And you? I suppose you haven't changed, despite the efforts of my five future selves?" |
| "Do I ever really change? Well, inside, at least." He leered a bit. "I'm still charming, sophisticated, impossible to resist. Admit it - you wouldn't want me any other way, Doctor!" |
| "I must admit, the universe would be a very strange place if you went and changed. I'd contend charming and sophisticated, though." |
| "Well, there's a future population of Great Britain who'd disagree with you there. They made me Prime Minister, not so long ago." |
| "Yes, I'm sure they did. It's good to see you in a regeneration with a sense of humour, for a change." The Doctor glanced round briefly. "By the way, you also look a lot better without the beard. It never suited you." |
| The Master pursed his lips, his eyes dancing as he met the Doctor's. "Ask your future self, if you don't believe me. He was there too. Unable to stop me becoming Lord and Master of the entire planet."
Just don't ask him how it ended, in his version of events, he added silently. "As for the beard - " He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I happen to think it did suit me, but it was time for a change. Bit too old-fashioned villain for the new me." |
| "Trust me. It was ridiculous." The Doctor grinned. "Good riddance to it."
Truce or no truce, he had to check himself. This was still the Master, and it was not safe to relax. |
| The Master was more hurt than he cared to admit, even to himself, by the Doctor calling his beard 'ridiculous'. He'd been proud of that beard. He flicked the Doctor a glance and moved away to peer at the next shop, a clothes shop. There was a mannequin in the window dressed in a brown pinstripe suit that reminded him of the Doctor - his Doctor. "Where are you hiding your TARDIS?" he asked casually. Just because one TARDIS wasn't going anywhere interesting, that didn't mean the other was equally stuck. |
| "Now, why would I tell you that, hmm?" The Doctor hesitated. "Even if I knew myself. What a horrible suit," he added, following the Master's gaze. |
| "Because it might enable us to get out of here! Come on, I thought we were working together here!"
His lips twisted in a wry smile at the Doctor's reaction to the suit. "It is horrible, isn't it? I can't think why anyone would want to wear something like that." |
| "Well, unfortunately, I was pulled here from my TARDIS. If we're getting out, it isn't that way." The Doctor looked around the almost deserted street. "You know, I have the strangest sense of dŽjˆ vu. Do you remember when we used to skip school together?" |
| The Master raised an eyebrow and gave the Doctor a sidelong glance. "Oh yes, Doctor, I remember that! How could I ever forget?"
He turned away, roaming restlessly across the road, fingers drumming absentmindedly on his thigh. "Where is everyone?" |
| The Doctor watched, curiously, the little rhythm the Master was drumming.
"Well, there were a few people back at the hotel. We could head down there." |
| The Master pursed his lips. "I've just come from the hotel, and I really don't fancy going straight back there. Besides, I didn't see anyone there either. Not that I went into any of the public areas - I wanted air to quieten the... To clear my mind."
He checked the Doctor's face to see if he'd noticed the slip, but couldn't read what he saw. He sighed. "You go back there, if you want. I think I'm going to explore. There must be something useful in this place." |
| "I think I'll accompany you, actually. Someone should keep an eye on you."
He waited until they were a little further along the street before he said, "Quieten the what?" |
| The Master rolled his eyes. "And here I was thinking I'd got away from the insufferably condescending version of you! I'm not a child and I don't need to be kept an eye on!"
Honestly. What was it with the Doctor and his superiority complex? He ignored the question about the drums. Maybe this Doctor was too polite to pursue it, if he didn't answer. |
| "My mother used to say, if you don't want to be treated like a child, don't act like one. Anyway, I think I asked you a question. You should know by now, I'm too nosey just to let it go." |
| Damn it. It'd been so long since he'd seen this Doctor that he'd forgotten he wasn't as mild as he looked - he was still the rude, combative, far too observant scoundrel he'd just spent so much time with on the Valiant.
He bit his lip. "Quieten the drums," he said shortly. |
| The Doctor sighed. "I thought you'd said they were gone. You haven't mentioned the drums since we were at the academy." |
| "They were gone. More or less. But then I..." Oh hell, how much should he tell the Doctor? "I spent some time as a human. Years." He looked down, and mumbled, "And they got worse." |
| The Doctor wasn't sure how much he wanted to know about the future, even if the idea of the Master as a human intrigued him.
He sighed, sadly. "I thought they were completely gone. I wish you'd said something." |
| There it was again. Pity. From the fucking Doctor.
He swung round and snarled, "I didn't tell you because I knew this is how you'd react! I don't need your pity. And it's not like there's anything you could do!" |
| "Why do you interpret anything that isn't active hostility as pity?" The Doctor looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. "And there are things I could try. If you'd let me. But I don't expect you will." |
| "As if I'd let you anywhere near my mind! And of course it's pity. You look down on me. You've always looked down on me. When you notice me at all, that is!" |
| "Is that really what you think? Honestly?" |
| "Oh, come on, Doctor, you know it's true." The drums were crescendoing again, pounding through his head. "You've always had that infuriatingly superior attitude." |
| "If that's the version of events you want to believe, then fine. But I really think you should let me attempt to help you with the drumming."
The Doctor tried to fill his features with honest concern, with very low expectations of success. |
| The Master whirled away across the street, his whole hand beating out the rhythm on his trouser-leg now, helpless to stop it. Damn it, he had to get himself under control. He didn't want to give the Doctor even more reason to call him a child.
He breathed deeply, gradually calming himself, and finally turned back to the Doctor. "You can't help with the drumming without poking around in my head," he said, his voice low and almost steady. "And forgive me if I'm a little reluctant to allow that." Not that he could be sure of stopping him if he tried, these days, but the Doctor didn't have to know that. |
| The Doctor sighed. Sometimes, he wondered why he bothered, but he knew he would never stop bothering.
"Suit yourself," he said, in a tone that clearly said the discussion wasn't really closed. He glanced along a side-street. "I think there's a market down here. Come on." As he walked, he started, very subtly, tapping his fingers against the side of his leg. Just to see what sort of reaction it got. |
| He probably would even have noticed the Doctor tapping away if he'd got the rhythm right, and in time. As it was, the tapping beat counter to the beat in his head and he couldn't help laughing, as he followed the Doctor round the corner.
"Oh, Doctor," he said, almost fondly and a tiny bit hysterically, "you really are ridiculous! Trying to keep my drums company? You've got the rhythm all wrong, for a start." |
| The Doctor grinned over his shoulder. "Well," he said, tapping a little faster, for the sheer pleasure of teasing, "can you blame me for trying to understand? Your drums are nothing but trouble, and trouble for you means trouble for everyone."
The Doctor paused at the first market stall. "Besides," he said, not quite under his breath, "we have history. Why wouldn't I care?" |
| The Master took a deep breath and really looked at the Doctor for the first time. So young, so open, in this body. He'd missed him.
"And after everything, you still have the power to surprise me, Doctor." He gave a small smile. "I have no idea why you would care, but it's rather nice to know that you do." |
| "Yes, well, I surprise myself sometimes."
The Doctor ambled along the row of stalls. There didn't seem to be any locals serving, so he set off for the other end of the street. "Maybe we should do a perimeter walk, find out how large this place is." |
| "Oh, that's a good idea, Doctor! It's nice to have someone as bright as me to work with. It's been lonely trying to figure this place out on my own." He glanced up at the Doctor from under his lashes, a small, secretive smile on his lips. "Especially after having spent so much time with you lately back in my own time." |