Two incredibly cracky drabbles
Jun. 29th, 2008 04:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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best_enemiesor... The return of Ainley!Master and his pet 10.
*shifty looks at x_los*
Tis all your fault. You and your Ren Fair drabble.
Now they’re stuck in my brain….
The Master’s immediate reaction had been spitting anger, slamming the Doctor up against the wall and demanding to know exactly what had happened, and how the Doctor managed to find trouble everywhere, anyway?
However, his anger at the Doctor was cut short by judicious application of The Puppy Dog Eyes and The Wibbly Lip, and the various other sneaky tricks this regeneration used (sneakily).
“So…” The Master drawled, drawing lazy circles on the skin under the Doctor’s shirt, “Who exactly were these people on the bus?”
Circle, dot, line, line circle.
“There was Jethro, and the Professor, and Didi, and…” the Doctor stopped talking and purred, squirming under the ticklish caress, shifting himself so he practically lay on top of the Master.
“And?” The Master prompted mildly, shifting his circle drawing downwards.
“Wait a second…You’re not going to track them down and kill them, are you?”
“…No?”
The Doctor squinted lazily at him, “No?”
The Master rolled his eyes, and replied, “They tried to kill you. You hardly think I’m going to let them live, do you?”
“It wasn’t that bad.” The Doctor demurred, and the Master raised an eyebrow.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Stop it!”
“Stop it.”
“Master, cut it out.”
“Master, cut it out.”
“No, really, stop it.” The Doctor was shuddering now, and the Master sighed and pulled him closer.
“Are you sure I can’t kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” He stood up, letting the Doctor thump back on to the mattress. “I’ll just go and fix the spatio-temporal fixture. I’ve been off by almost a minute for the last three landings, because I haven’t looked at it in a few weeks.”
“Ooh, almost a minute…” The Doctor rolled his eyes, and flopped over, burying his head in a pillow.
“In fact, at its current rate of decay, if I wait another, oh, let’s say, three hundred years, my TARDIS might start becoming as inaccurate as yours.”
“Low blow,” The Doctor mumbled from his pillow.
The Master smiled (evilly, of course) as he left the bedroom, and moved to the nearest dataport (which his TARDIS conveniently moved to the wall in front of him) and began a search.
“Search: passengers of Crusader fifty passenger bus, departed thirteen hundred hours and suffered a break down en route.”
He memorized the passenger list, and began to plan their horribly messy deaths as he padded down the corridor.
First, he had a new setting he’d just added to the TCD, which could-
“Master!”
“Hmm?” He turned around, raising an eyebrow at the rather off colour Doctor who was standing behind him, leaning on the wall and panting in a very distracting manner.
“Does the STF need fixing straight away?” (Could you please not go and kill the humans?)
“Well, I suppose that if you enjoy landing several minutes out of sync…” (Give me a good reason)
“Could you…uhh…that is, um…Could you come back to bed?” (Please?) The Doctor blushed. Cheater.
“Huh.” (I’m thinking.)
“Please?” (Go on…)
And now he was bringing out the Puppy Dog Eyes. That was totally cheating.
“Well. It can wait a little while.” (Okay, okay.)
The humans would die a horrible messy death for daring to touch his Doctor.
The Doctor snuggled up against him, making a small snuffly noise.
Very soon.
Then the Doctor licked his ear.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you were writing ‘mine’ over and over again on my back, Master.”
Well…horrible messy death could wait a little bit.
and a leedle drabble from a comment that x_los made many moons (posts) ago, concerning President!Doctor
“Mister President, I’d like to talk to you about the budget.”
“What now?”
“Well, we’re running suspiciously over, and could you have a look at our expenses?”
*sigh*
“Sure. Pass it over.”
“Our main problem is the second page, particularly the second item.”
“The Magesterial Astro-Spatio-TElemetric Radar? It does seem to take up quite a bit of money…and it requires six regular hours of Matrix access a day…”
“Yes, and while that isn’t particularly strange, it has only been on our budget for the last six months, sir.”
“In other words, since I became president.”
“Yes sir.”
“Seems a bit suspicious…so, this M.A.S.T.E.R…”
“Sir? Sir, what’s wrong?”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
and that’s not all. I have more. They will be posted soon.
*looks at x_los*
ALL YOUR FAULT.
(cookies coming soon.)
*shifty looks at x_los*
Tis all your fault. You and your Ren Fair drabble.
Now they’re stuck in my brain….
The Master’s immediate reaction had been spitting anger, slamming the Doctor up against the wall and demanding to know exactly what had happened, and how the Doctor managed to find trouble everywhere, anyway?
However, his anger at the Doctor was cut short by judicious application of The Puppy Dog Eyes and The Wibbly Lip, and the various other sneaky tricks this regeneration used (sneakily).
“So…” The Master drawled, drawing lazy circles on the skin under the Doctor’s shirt, “Who exactly were these people on the bus?”
Circle, dot, line, line circle.
“There was Jethro, and the Professor, and Didi, and…” the Doctor stopped talking and purred, squirming under the ticklish caress, shifting himself so he practically lay on top of the Master.
“And?” The Master prompted mildly, shifting his circle drawing downwards.
“Wait a second…You’re not going to track them down and kill them, are you?”
“…No?”
The Doctor squinted lazily at him, “No?”
The Master rolled his eyes, and replied, “They tried to kill you. You hardly think I’m going to let them live, do you?”
“It wasn’t that bad.” The Doctor demurred, and the Master raised an eyebrow.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Stop it!”
“Stop it.”
“Master, cut it out.”
“Master, cut it out.”
“No, really, stop it.” The Doctor was shuddering now, and the Master sighed and pulled him closer.
“Are you sure I can’t kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” He stood up, letting the Doctor thump back on to the mattress. “I’ll just go and fix the spatio-temporal fixture. I’ve been off by almost a minute for the last three landings, because I haven’t looked at it in a few weeks.”
“Ooh, almost a minute…” The Doctor rolled his eyes, and flopped over, burying his head in a pillow.
“In fact, at its current rate of decay, if I wait another, oh, let’s say, three hundred years, my TARDIS might start becoming as inaccurate as yours.”
“Low blow,” The Doctor mumbled from his pillow.
The Master smiled (evilly, of course) as he left the bedroom, and moved to the nearest dataport (which his TARDIS conveniently moved to the wall in front of him) and began a search.
“Search: passengers of Crusader fifty passenger bus, departed thirteen hundred hours and suffered a break down en route.”
He memorized the passenger list, and began to plan their horribly messy deaths as he padded down the corridor.
First, he had a new setting he’d just added to the TCD, which could-
“Master!”
“Hmm?” He turned around, raising an eyebrow at the rather off colour Doctor who was standing behind him, leaning on the wall and panting in a very distracting manner.
“Does the STF need fixing straight away?” (Could you please not go and kill the humans?)
“Well, I suppose that if you enjoy landing several minutes out of sync…” (Give me a good reason)
“Could you…uhh…that is, um…Could you come back to bed?” (Please?) The Doctor blushed. Cheater.
“Huh.” (I’m thinking.)
“Please?” (Go on…)
And now he was bringing out the Puppy Dog Eyes. That was totally cheating.
“Well. It can wait a little while.” (Okay, okay.)
The humans would die a horrible messy death for daring to touch his Doctor.
The Doctor snuggled up against him, making a small snuffly noise.
Very soon.
Then the Doctor licked his ear.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you were writing ‘mine’ over and over again on my back, Master.”
Well…horrible messy death could wait a little bit.
and a leedle drabble from a comment that x_los made many moons (posts) ago, concerning President!Doctor
“Mister President, I’d like to talk to you about the budget.”
“What now?”
“Well, we’re running suspiciously over, and could you have a look at our expenses?”
*sigh*
“Sure. Pass it over.”
“Our main problem is the second page, particularly the second item.”
“The Magesterial Astro-Spatio-TElemetric Radar? It does seem to take up quite a bit of money…and it requires six regular hours of Matrix access a day…”
“Yes, and while that isn’t particularly strange, it has only been on our budget for the last six months, sir.”
“In other words, since I became president.”
“Yes sir.”
“Seems a bit suspicious…so, this M.A.S.T.E.R…”
“Sir? Sir, what’s wrong?”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
and that’s not all. I have more. They will be posted soon.
*looks at x_los*
ALL YOUR FAULT.
(cookies coming soon.)
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