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best_enemiesTitle: World Domination for Dummies (3/?)
Author: infraredphaeton
rating: PG-13
SPOILERS FOR THE END OF TIME PART 2
summary: One of the Masters escapes: he meets a rather despondent 10.5, who has turned to dreams of world domination to keep himself sane.
Part One
(with links to the rest)
In a fit of coincidence that proved the universe’s sense of humour, Theta emerged from the TARDIS’s wardrobe in a black leather jacket and a dark jumper that would have been very familiar to the traveling companions of the Doctor’s ninth incarnation. Something about the ears screamed ‘I have to wear a leather jacket’, apparently.
As Koschei was wearing a fairly recent regeneration, he too looked fairly young in human terms; he looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, with dark, wavy hair that would curl if he let it grow, and spaniel dark eyes that had a malicious sparkle too them. He left the wardrobe looking dapper and satisfied in a well tailored, dark suit and purple-brown shirt, running a black leather gloved hand along the planes of his mostly smooth shaven face- he’d cut the beard back to a goatee at the same time he’d smoothed his hair with oil.
As soon as he saw Theta, he sneered, “It’s twenty first century London, Theta, not twentieth century Germany.” Koschei looked him up and down, “You look like a Nazi U-boat captain.”
“And you look like a wanker.” Theta replied cheerfully, and Koschei new he’d have to watch what he ate carefully, and check his shampoo for dye for at least a week.. Theta sounded too cheerful.
“So tell me, Koschei,” Theta smiled, fiddling with some of the TARDIS’s dials, “where do you think the evil us are hiding?”
“They could be in Brazil,” Koschei suggested casually, looking at a side screen as Gallifreyan ticked over on it like the insides of an old pocket watch.
Theta grinned, “It’s definitely possible. We should check. Just to be safe.”
“Of course. Just to be safe.” Koschei smirked, and they dematerialized. After all, the evil them could be enjoying Carnivale as they spoke.
*/*/*/*
“Master?” The Doctor rapped on the bathroom door, “Are you ever coming out?” He frowned, and crossed his arms over the pale blue button up shirt Rose had bought him as a Christmas present.
“In a minute!” The Master called back, stealing Rose’s eyeliner off the bathroom counter for later reapplication. IT was better than the one he usually used, he had discovered earlier, when the Master had decided to use it out of spite. Rose was irritating and she interrupted the Master as she was allowed to just talk over him like an equal. Like she had the same rights as the Doctor. It made him long for his laser screwdriver. Or his P-90, the Master considered, curling his fingers as he pulled on his gloves again.
“Master?” The Doctor called again, but the Master ignored him in favour of searching the medicine cabinet. Tylenol, diuretics, blonde hair dye (the Master gave it a considering look, but it was a few shades too yellow for him to steal and use himself), and… The Master glared, and snatched the offending bottle up in one hand. He marched to the door and flung it open, letting the Doctor fall in- he’d been leaning on it- before shoving the medicine in his face.
“Oh look. Painkillers.” Observed the Doctor dryly from his place, splayed on the floor at the Master’s feet. It was a good place for him, the Master considered.
“Not just any painkillers, Doctor! Aspirin! That semi-sentient roommate of yours is trying to kill me!” He chucked the bottle at the Doctor’s chest- he caught it on reflex- and swanned out of the bathroom, footsteps surprisingly quiet even in his combat boots.
“Master, Rose isn’t trying to kill you. She doesn’t even know you. She doesn’t know you’re a Time Lord. And she certainly doesn’t know that aspirin is fatal!” The Doctor jumped up and followed the Master into the kitchen, dropping the mostly empty, almost a year old bottle of aspirin into the bin as he walked. He came in to a sight scarier than the Cybermen and Daleks in Canary Warf: The Master and Rose Tyler, drinking tea and eating toast over a small Formica table.
“Sam.”
“Rose.” The Master said, icily polite. He took a bite of toast, mentally poking at the puddle of instincts that made up the entirety of his host. Dave Swinford, SAS, refused to rouse himself.
“More tea?” She asked sweetly, tilting her head on one side. Somehow, he could just tell she knew why he was here. Unfortunately, despite the Doctor’s new found lack of caring amount humanity, he seemed to have a soft spot for the irritating blonde who sat opposite him, lifting the tea pot.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Tell me how to kill her!
No.
Tell me now!
Or what? I’m already dead!
Not quite. I can do all sorts of terrible things to you without killing you, Dave.
I won’t tell you how to poison her tea.
How did you know I was thinking about that?
I’m living in your mind.
Ah. Of course.
Well, I’m not helping, she reminds me of my little sister-
That’s… The Master dug through Dave’s memories, Maureen?
That’d be her.
The Master scowled into his mug as the Doctor flittered around the kitchen, picking up various gadgets and stuffing them into his back pack.
“Sam? Are you ready to leave?”
I could just torture it out of you, you know, The Master threatened sorely.
I’ll show you how to kill a man with nothing more than a spoonful of yoghurt, but I won’t show you how to poison the tea of a girl who looks like my youngest sister. Dave said, with an air of finality, and sunk back into his inner-consciousness puddle.
“Sure.” The Master said sulkily, and sneered at Rose, “There’s nothing for me here.”
The Doctor blinked, and watched the Master sweep out of the room. “Uh, I’ll see you later, Rose. Have a good day.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and she patted him on the arm.
“Have fun, Doctor. But don’t forget to go to work.”
“I forget one time. One time!” He wrinkled his nose and followed the Master out, locking the door behind them.
“You plan on building a TARDIS, right?”
“Right.” The Doctor nodded decisively, and a heavy, gloved hand on his shoulder pulled him out of the throng of Londoners and into a dark alley the twin to the one the Master had shown up in.
“How?”
“I’ll show you,” The Doctor grinned, puling out his Torchwood Access Card, “How do you feel about a ‘Take-Your-Evil-Renegade-Time-Lord-To-Work-Day?”
“I’d object to evil,” sniffed the Master, “I prefer malevolent. I’d also say get on with it. I don’t plan on staying with that…girl any longer than I have to.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Get over it.”
“No.”
*/*/*/*/
“Look, it’s obvious what we have to do!” Theta said grimly, and Koschei glared.
“I won’t!”
“It’s the only way. Koschei, if there was any alternative…”
“But…what if the students saw?”
“They’ll never know, Koschei. It’s between you and me. And if we’re going to survive, then…”
Koschei looked at the lever he had to pull, and then at Theta’s hand, where it rested over it.
“If it’s necessary.”
“You know it is. It’s the only way we’ll be able to get transmissions and send at the same time.”
“You won’t do it alone.” Koschei said decisively, and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Theta.
“Thank you.” Theta turned an unsure smile on him. Koschei snorted.
“Don’t thank me. Never thank me for this.”
They pulled the lever.
The screen above distorted, then settled.
“We have to leave the area.” Koschei said, grabbing Theta by the arm.
“But…”
“We can’t do anything Theta. We just have to get out of the way.”
Theta allowed himself to be drawn out of the room, towards the Cloister.
“I’m sorry,” he told the TARDIS, “I’m so, so sorry.”
Koschei slapped the back of his head.
“Ow! What?”
Koschei frowned, “I’m not sure. I just had the incontrollable urge to slap you. Besides, we’re not really losing anything.”
“Except our dignity.” Theta said glumly.
The all-clear light was lit, and Koschei gritted his teeth.
“We go in together, Koschei.” Theta said, putting a hand on his arm.
“Alright.”
“On three?”
“On three.”
“One. Two.”
“Three!” They swung the door open, and looked at the console room.
Theta’s eyes widened.
“So this is it.”
“It’s better than I thought,” said Koschei wonderingly.
“I never would have…”
“You hear stories, you know?” Koschei said, “but really. It’s not that much worse than coral.”
“I suppose. I liked coral better.”
“It’s a practicality, Theta.”
“I know. But still…” Theta looked around at the transformed console room.
“Leopard-print.”
Author: infraredphaeton
rating: PG-13
SPOILERS FOR THE END OF TIME PART 2
summary: One of the Masters escapes: he meets a rather despondent 10.5, who has turned to dreams of world domination to keep himself sane.
Part One
(with links to the rest)
In a fit of coincidence that proved the universe’s sense of humour, Theta emerged from the TARDIS’s wardrobe in a black leather jacket and a dark jumper that would have been very familiar to the traveling companions of the Doctor’s ninth incarnation. Something about the ears screamed ‘I have to wear a leather jacket’, apparently.
As Koschei was wearing a fairly recent regeneration, he too looked fairly young in human terms; he looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, with dark, wavy hair that would curl if he let it grow, and spaniel dark eyes that had a malicious sparkle too them. He left the wardrobe looking dapper and satisfied in a well tailored, dark suit and purple-brown shirt, running a black leather gloved hand along the planes of his mostly smooth shaven face- he’d cut the beard back to a goatee at the same time he’d smoothed his hair with oil.
As soon as he saw Theta, he sneered, “It’s twenty first century London, Theta, not twentieth century Germany.” Koschei looked him up and down, “You look like a Nazi U-boat captain.”
“And you look like a wanker.” Theta replied cheerfully, and Koschei new he’d have to watch what he ate carefully, and check his shampoo for dye for at least a week.. Theta sounded too cheerful.
“So tell me, Koschei,” Theta smiled, fiddling with some of the TARDIS’s dials, “where do you think the evil us are hiding?”
“They could be in Brazil,” Koschei suggested casually, looking at a side screen as Gallifreyan ticked over on it like the insides of an old pocket watch.
Theta grinned, “It’s definitely possible. We should check. Just to be safe.”
“Of course. Just to be safe.” Koschei smirked, and they dematerialized. After all, the evil them could be enjoying Carnivale as they spoke.
*/*/*/*
“Master?” The Doctor rapped on the bathroom door, “Are you ever coming out?” He frowned, and crossed his arms over the pale blue button up shirt Rose had bought him as a Christmas present.
“In a minute!” The Master called back, stealing Rose’s eyeliner off the bathroom counter for later reapplication. IT was better than the one he usually used, he had discovered earlier, when the Master had decided to use it out of spite. Rose was irritating and she interrupted the Master as she was allowed to just talk over him like an equal. Like she had the same rights as the Doctor. It made him long for his laser screwdriver. Or his P-90, the Master considered, curling his fingers as he pulled on his gloves again.
“Master?” The Doctor called again, but the Master ignored him in favour of searching the medicine cabinet. Tylenol, diuretics, blonde hair dye (the Master gave it a considering look, but it was a few shades too yellow for him to steal and use himself), and… The Master glared, and snatched the offending bottle up in one hand. He marched to the door and flung it open, letting the Doctor fall in- he’d been leaning on it- before shoving the medicine in his face.
“Oh look. Painkillers.” Observed the Doctor dryly from his place, splayed on the floor at the Master’s feet. It was a good place for him, the Master considered.
“Not just any painkillers, Doctor! Aspirin! That semi-sentient roommate of yours is trying to kill me!” He chucked the bottle at the Doctor’s chest- he caught it on reflex- and swanned out of the bathroom, footsteps surprisingly quiet even in his combat boots.
“Master, Rose isn’t trying to kill you. She doesn’t even know you. She doesn’t know you’re a Time Lord. And she certainly doesn’t know that aspirin is fatal!” The Doctor jumped up and followed the Master into the kitchen, dropping the mostly empty, almost a year old bottle of aspirin into the bin as he walked. He came in to a sight scarier than the Cybermen and Daleks in Canary Warf: The Master and Rose Tyler, drinking tea and eating toast over a small Formica table.
“Sam.”
“Rose.” The Master said, icily polite. He took a bite of toast, mentally poking at the puddle of instincts that made up the entirety of his host. Dave Swinford, SAS, refused to rouse himself.
“More tea?” She asked sweetly, tilting her head on one side. Somehow, he could just tell she knew why he was here. Unfortunately, despite the Doctor’s new found lack of caring amount humanity, he seemed to have a soft spot for the irritating blonde who sat opposite him, lifting the tea pot.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Tell me how to kill her!
No.
Tell me now!
Or what? I’m already dead!
Not quite. I can do all sorts of terrible things to you without killing you, Dave.
I won’t tell you how to poison her tea.
How did you know I was thinking about that?
I’m living in your mind.
Ah. Of course.
Well, I’m not helping, she reminds me of my little sister-
That’s… The Master dug through Dave’s memories, Maureen?
That’d be her.
The Master scowled into his mug as the Doctor flittered around the kitchen, picking up various gadgets and stuffing them into his back pack.
“Sam? Are you ready to leave?”
I could just torture it out of you, you know, The Master threatened sorely.
I’ll show you how to kill a man with nothing more than a spoonful of yoghurt, but I won’t show you how to poison the tea of a girl who looks like my youngest sister. Dave said, with an air of finality, and sunk back into his inner-consciousness puddle.
“Sure.” The Master said sulkily, and sneered at Rose, “There’s nothing for me here.”
The Doctor blinked, and watched the Master sweep out of the room. “Uh, I’ll see you later, Rose. Have a good day.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and she patted him on the arm.
“Have fun, Doctor. But don’t forget to go to work.”
“I forget one time. One time!” He wrinkled his nose and followed the Master out, locking the door behind them.
“You plan on building a TARDIS, right?”
“Right.” The Doctor nodded decisively, and a heavy, gloved hand on his shoulder pulled him out of the throng of Londoners and into a dark alley the twin to the one the Master had shown up in.
“How?”
“I’ll show you,” The Doctor grinned, puling out his Torchwood Access Card, “How do you feel about a ‘Take-Your-Evil-Renegade-Time-Lord-To-Work-Day?”
“I’d object to evil,” sniffed the Master, “I prefer malevolent. I’d also say get on with it. I don’t plan on staying with that…girl any longer than I have to.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Get over it.”
“No.”
*/*/*/*/
“Look, it’s obvious what we have to do!” Theta said grimly, and Koschei glared.
“I won’t!”
“It’s the only way. Koschei, if there was any alternative…”
“But…what if the students saw?”
“They’ll never know, Koschei. It’s between you and me. And if we’re going to survive, then…”
Koschei looked at the lever he had to pull, and then at Theta’s hand, where it rested over it.
“If it’s necessary.”
“You know it is. It’s the only way we’ll be able to get transmissions and send at the same time.”
“You won’t do it alone.” Koschei said decisively, and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Theta.
“Thank you.” Theta turned an unsure smile on him. Koschei snorted.
“Don’t thank me. Never thank me for this.”
They pulled the lever.
The screen above distorted, then settled.
“We have to leave the area.” Koschei said, grabbing Theta by the arm.
“But…”
“We can’t do anything Theta. We just have to get out of the way.”
Theta allowed himself to be drawn out of the room, towards the Cloister.
“I’m sorry,” he told the TARDIS, “I’m so, so sorry.”
Koschei slapped the back of his head.
“Ow! What?”
Koschei frowned, “I’m not sure. I just had the incontrollable urge to slap you. Besides, we’re not really losing anything.”
“Except our dignity.” Theta said glumly.
The all-clear light was lit, and Koschei gritted his teeth.
“We go in together, Koschei.” Theta said, putting a hand on his arm.
“Alright.”
“On three?”
“On three.”
“One. Two.”
“Three!” They swung the door open, and looked at the console room.
Theta’s eyes widened.
“So this is it.”
“It’s better than I thought,” said Koschei wonderingly.
“I never would have…”
“You hear stories, you know?” Koschei said, “but really. It’s not that much worse than coral.”
“I suppose. I liked coral better.”
“It’s a practicality, Theta.”
“I know. But still…” Theta looked around at the transformed console room.
“Leopard-print.”
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