best_enemies | World Domination for Dummies (4/?)

Title: World Domination for Dummies (4/?)
Author: infraredphaeton
rating: PG-13
SPOILERS FOR THE END OF TIME PART 2 BECAUSE I KNOW SOMEBODY OUT THERE HASN'T SEEN IT YET
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)
A/N: Sorry about the delay. I fell in love with The Mighty Boosh. It was very distracting.

“See, the cool thing is that Torchwood accidentally picked up a ‘piece of space-coral’ about six months ago.” The Doctor explained, waving his pass card over the key.
“Space-coral?” The Master sneered, “Is that what they call it?”
The Doctor looked depressed, “Yes. And you know what they called Atraxi illumination pods?”
“What?”
“Floaty light bulbs.” The Doctor spat out, and shuddered.
“My dear Doctor,” The Master patted him on the shoulder, “remind me why you like this planet so much.”
The Doctor’s shoulders slumped even further, “I’ve forgotten, actually. It was something about innovative-ness. Or their indomitable spirits.”
“Innovative-ness?” The Master said, following the Doctor into the London Torchwood Hub. It looked a lot like a cubicle farm. Only with a pterodactyl and a doctor’s surgery.
“I changed my mind. Good morning, Ianto.” The Doctor said, suddenly straightening and putting on a pleasant smile.
“Good morning, Doctor. Tea?” replied Ianto, smoothing down his newest suit and smiling just as pleasantly in return. He held out a mug with ‘Engineers do it with precision’ written on it.
“Bless your soul, Ianto.” The Doctor replied fervently, holding the mug as though it had ambrosia in it.
“And for your friend?”
The Master sneered, examining his cuticles while he pretended to ignore Ianto.
“Tea for him, then.” Ianto said, as though the Master had deigned him with a response.
“We’ll be in my cubicle,” said the Doctor, still smiling pleasantly, and dragged the Master off by one of his many straps.
“Why are you treating that monkey like a person?” asked the Master, once they were hidden behind the chipboard and cheap carpet that made up the cubicle walls.
“...I think he might be trying to take over the world, too.” The Doctor replied, opening one of his desk drawers.
“And?” The Master sneered, leaning on one of the cubicle walls. It wobbled, and he quickly straightened up.
“Your tea, sir?” Ianto cleared his throat from behind him, and The Master whirled around.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what, sir?”
“I didn’t hear you!”
Ianto smiled.
It was rather scary, even for The Master.
“It is one of my more valuable skills, sir. Your tea?” Ianto offered him a mug.
“Right.” The Master accepted it warily, and the Doctor elbowed him in the ribs.
“Say thank you!”
“...Thank you?”
“You’re very welcome sir.”
Ianto disappeared.
The Master stared down at the milky tea.
“Is this poisoned?”
“Don’t think so.” The Doctor replied, piling various alien weapons on top of his keyboard.
“Is that a sonic disrupter?” The Master asked, putting down his tea without taking a sip.
“Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Doctor beamed proudly, “Mint condition. They think it’s a pencil sharpener.”
“Why would they think that?” The Master asked, looking at the gun. It was pointed, a dark gunmetal colour, and covered in vicious looking spikes and glowing blue blood stains.
“Because I told them it was a pencil sharpener, obviously.” replied the Doctor, dumping a handful of Kaymin concussion grenades into his pencil mug.
“What do they think those are?”
“Pencil sharpeners.” The Doctor replied, and stuck a long, curved knife into one of the chipboard walls to keep it out of the way.
“And that?”
“Pencil sharpener.”
“...I know they’re thick, but honestly?” The Master tested the edge of the knife with an ungloved hand. It glowed green for a second and released a wave of energy that made his hand go numb.
“It could be a pencil sharpener. It’s sharp. If you put a pencil on that edge, it would definitely cut it.” The Doctor replied, finally digging out the arm length piece of TARDIS coral he’d been looking for.
“Is there anything in this place you’ve told them isn’t a pencil sharpener?” The Master asked, and The Doctor shrugged.
“That.” he pointed at a jar of highly venomous pentapus blood.
“And what’s that supposed to be?”
“Ink.”

*/*/*/*
“So they aren’t in Brazil,” said Theta happily, adjusting his new Carnivale mask. He was covered in coloured feathers, and several brightly coloured plastic bead necklaces strung around his neck. Koschei followed him into the TARDIS, closing the door on the loud, happy music outside.
“Apparently not,” replied Koschei, smoothing back his tousled hair. He grinned at Theta, touched his shoulder, and then moved to the centre of the console, “Where do you think they might be?”
“Mmm...The Eye of Orion?” Theta suggested, leaning against him comfortably.
“Get off!” Koschei swatted at him, but Theta dodged, dancing back towards the jump seat.
“Eye of Orion?”
“Of course. I mean, they’re us. So if we think they’re going to The Eye of Orion, they’re probably going to the Eye of Orion. When do you want to go?” asked Koschei, twisting dials and pushing buttons.
“The sunsets are spectacular in summer.” Theta replied, “...so they probably went then. I mean, it’s the obvious time for evil plotting.”
“Right. Summer, Eye of Orion.” Koschei set the coordinates and sent the TARDIS on its way.
“Just a minute, I’ll go pack a picnic lunch.”
*/*/*/*
“What’s wrong, Doijher?” asked Romanadvoratrelundar, closing her textbook.
Doijher sighed, sniffing slightly.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Doijheringherinluk, you cannot lie to me. I’ve known you since...well, since we were born.” Romanadvoratrelundar said sternly.
“I...It’s Professor Koschei.” he said sadly, looking at his hands.
“Professor Icy-pants? What about him? I heard he’s on sabbatical.”
“No, no, he’s still teaching. He’s just...away.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s away with Professor Theta!” Doijher sobbed, and fell onto Romanadvoratrelundar’s shoulder.
“...there, there.” she said, patting his shoulder awkwardly as he soaked her robes with tears. “I’m sure it isn’t that bad?”
“But he’s supposed to be helping me with my thesis!”
“Oh. Oh. Oh, Doijher, you poor thing.”