Chapter Text
“Did you want some tea?”
Glancing towards the Red-Head as she made her way towards the chair across from him, the Doctor merely raised an eyebrow at such a rhetorical question. He knew she knew the answer before she had bothered to ask, but gave a friendly nod just the same.
Visibly agitated, the Blonde came out of the hallway with a tray in her hands. Scowling at them both, each in turn, she glanced down at the two cups of steaming fresh tea and the two trays of sweets as though neither of her friends mattered. “I don’t care if anyone wanted this or not,” she began, forcing the tray down upon the top of the table between the two chairs. The Blonde then traipsed back from whence she came without another care, or even a second thought.
“My,” the Doctor muttered, lifting his sights from the retreating figure and returning such towards the more docile of the two at the moment. “Such pent-up frustration,” came a sly grin. “Do you think she’ll make it to the wedding night?”
Countering his grin with a somewhat knowing glance that merely showed in her eyes, Stella stated, “Oh, she’ll make it,” before calling out over her shoulder, “Won’t you?”
“Leave me ALONE!”
Sighing slightly in the attempt to hide the inevitable wince from the fierce tone that was used by her predecessor, the Red-Head called back, “Please, Two - come here.”
“NO!”
“I’ll put a five-note down saying she won’t make it,” the Doctor teased.
“I don’t place bets on myself,” Three frowned slightly, taking up a tea cup with notice to the fact that it had somehow become only half-full. Giving an indifferent shrug, she took a sip and suddenly wished she hadn’t.
“Did she forget the sugar?”
“Mmm.” Shaking her head, she forced herself to swallow what tea she had sipped. “No, the sugar isn’t the issue. The, the tea is cold.”
Glancing into his own tea slightly, the Doctor’s eyebrows instantly furrowed. “Something is wrong,” he paused, trying to figure out how such a thing could be true. Getting himself up, he wasted no time in checking various instruments on the TARDIS’ console against his own pocket watch.
“You’re forever doing this, Doctor.”
“Hmm?”
Noting that he hadn’t bothered taking his attention from his instruments, she supplied, “Something is wrong with what?”
Glancing up once his watch was closed, he frowned. “With time. We seem to have jumped forward, which is not supposed to happen inside a TARDIS.”
“How do you know?”
Waving it away as unimportant, the Doctor muttered, “I better go see if your other is all right, just stay here.” Trying to contemplate how such an improbability could occur, the Time Lord’s simple trek down the hall seemed to have taken no time at all. Stopping at the Blonde’s usual room, he gave a slight knock before opening the door. “Are you— Oh dear.”
Shocked to find the Blonde with a Cyberman under the covers with her, the Doctor merely looked down at the floor while doffing his hat to them both. He then muttered, “So sorry to intrude,” before quickly closing the door.
The trip back to the console room, thankfully, took less time than the trip away from it, and the Doctor’s face showed both confusion as well as incredulity.
“How was she?”
“With that question, I don’t think I should be the one you ask,” he muttered, sinking himself back into his chair.
“I don’t follow.”
Pondering slightly on the right way to address the matter, the Doctor tapped his fingertips together to keep his attention focused. “In the fact of health, how was she, she was still there and in one piece. In the course of, erm, well…. Let’s just say she made it.”
“Really?”
“Unless you have another explanation for, for THAT….”
Frowning, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell her, she finally caught on. “No, no, no, Doctor, they were merely playing a game! I bet you didn’t see what you thought you just saw,” she winked.
“My dear, I am more than a thousand years old, and I have grandchildren.” Watching her in complete seriousness, he added: “I do know the definition of foreplay.”
“…yes, I suppose you do. Remind me to congratulate her later.”
Leaning his elbow upon the arm of the chair, gracing his curled fingers with his chin, the Doctor turned his attention back to the tray on the table. “I still don’t know what could have caused that temporal hiccough.”
“Are you planning to reverse it?” Three asked, hoping he would say no.
“Depending on the cause and reason, yes.”
“Why? What do you think happened?”
Glancing upward to see his questioner, the Doctor sighed. “Stella, if I knew - or if I even had the slightest inkling of a possibility - I would not be here trying to figure things out, asking open-ended questions. If I had a cause, or even a simple reason behind what has happened, I would be fixing the slip-up. Unless— No. No, wait a moment.” Narrowing his eyes slightly, seeing that the Red-Head was trying to look away from him, he let his hand down to grip the front of the chair’s arm. “Did you have something to do with this?”
“Don’t ask me!”
“Too late, I’ve asked!”
“Why would I do something like this, Doctor?” the Red-Head asked, managing as much innocence as she could muster.
“To get your previous self over her… inhibitions.”
“You know,” Stella said, trying to switch gears, “you really need to start dusting this place.”
“Only you would so cavalierly interfere with your own timeline,” the Doctor frowned. “Even I don’t go that far, Stella! But, please, tell me,” he added, as a dark smile crept upward. “Do you remember how you spent your first night with your husband?”
“Well,” she floundered, trying to think back. “No, actually, which is strange.”
“Which could indicate that you, the present you, was there as well. Or,” he added drastically, “it might mean that you have totally unraveled your own history!”
“Yes,” the Red-Head nodded, finding the silver lining. “But at least she has gotten over her fears.”
“Mmm.” Glancing back towards the tea cups, the Doctor gave in to a sigh. “We’ll just have to wait and see, then. If you vanish, or spontaneously combust, or implode or something….”
“I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t think about the side effects.”
“Not to worry, of course. Its hard to have a really grisly end on this special effects budget,” came a wry smile.
“Well done, then. The tea is getting— ” she began, stopping in mid-sentence with a frown. “No, the tea is already cold. There’s always crackers, I suppose.”
Hearing the bedsprings creaking from down the hall, the Doctor cringed. “In my TARDIS. Did you have to bring them together in my TARDIS?”
“Sorry, Doctor,” Three smiled with a slight shrug. “There shouldn’t be a next time, so I won’t even bother to say it.”
“I know.”
Grinning with the knowledge that all should be well whenever the Doctor concedes, Three took up a cracker from the tray, biting into it and, like the tea before, wishing she hadn’t. “Ugh, stale. Really, I am sorry.”
Tapping his fingertips together again, paying more attention to them than his companion, the Doctor asked, “Just how did you do this, anyway?”
“Why should I tell you?” Three frowned. “You’ll just go back and change it.”
“Stella,” he managed, his voice calm, “if you want to experience temporal implosion, that is entirely your business. I do, however, need to know what you have done in - and possibly to - my TARDIS!”
Cringing slightly as his sights set on her near the end of his calm, Stella sighed. “That’s the problem, Doctor. I don’t know. You know how lousy I am with machinery….”
“Then just tell me what you did, step by step.”
Getting up from her chair, fully aware that the Doctor was watching her every move, she went to the console. “It should be better if I actually show— ” Pausing to glance back toward the Doctor, she narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?”
“No, but I must know what you’ve done, as it could be— ” As quick as his own blink, he was shocked to see that Three’s stomach had grown roughly a basketball’s worth. “It’s happened again, Stella! And, and you’re pregnant.”
Gesturing toward the console panel, she looked as though she were about to cry. “I didn’t do anything more than that!”
Noticing her hand moving from it’s place at the console to pause just before her mouth, the Doctor was mollified. “Stella, its not… already. Tell me it is not. Oh, Rassilon, I am not that type of Doctor!”
“We’ve got to stop this,” came a whisper.
“Yes. This will be, what, your fifth child? You do realize that it takes more than just pressing a button to get like that, right? And it has nothing to do with Xeraphinian Storks!” Seeing the tears in Stella’s eyes begin to trickle down her face, her eyes almost pleading, his sympathetic gaze suddenly changed. “No. Oh no, I am not your father and I am not going to have THAT talk with you!”
Understanding that things were going far more different and becoming much more complicated than what she had hoped, the Red-Head tried her best to reverse the process by pushing various buttons and pulling various levers.
As the Doctor watched her movements from his chair, his eyes went wide as two things happened. The first was a faint VWORPING that could be heard in the background, but that was nothing - that could be anything.
The second, unfortunately, was that the Red-Head had fainted at the controls.
Getting up from his chair to see if he could help her in any way, the Doctor’s feet froze half-way between Stella’s current incident and where he had been seated. His attention became completely engulfed by the black obelisk that had appeared off to the side as the background noise stopped, and he knew what would come next.
The Master, his TCE leveled in the Doctor’s direction, laughed manically. “I’ve got you now, Doctor! And in your very home, no less! How does that— ” Visually taking in the room as a whole, his centuries-practiced monologue fell to pieces as soon as he saw Stella in her current condition. The TCE dropped from numb fingers as he muttered, “…crap.”
Eyes fluttering open slightly, the Red-Head caught a glimpse of her father and quickly closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Please, no.”
Automatically knowing who was coming into the console room next from the sound of the giggling in the hallway, the Master’s usual façade slipped entirely. True to the sounds he had recognized, the cheerful laughter had come from the Blonde. He could not comprehend, however, why she would be gladly clinging to the Cyberman who walked just in front of her into the room.
The Blonde did not cling too long, however, once she noticed the Red-Head. Running over to her other self, even more cheerful than before, she gave herself a hug. “Oh, I’m so happy!”
Trying to push the Blonde away, not having enough strength to do so, she noticed what was happening around them. The Master, not capable of taking in what he was seeing, had fainted and was propped against the obelisk. The Doctor, on the other hand, was in the attempt of tip-toeing out of his own console room, just passing the Cyberman.
Noticing that the Red-Head had pointed her finger, the Blonde turned to see what she was pointing out. “Doctor, what’s going on?”
“Ask your father where Time Tots come from!” came a hasty reply as he hurried down the corridor, leaving everyone to their own devices.
Almost on cue, the Master sighed, picked up his TCE device, and moved himself toward the chairs. Seating himself down rather heavily, as though he still thought everything was too much of a burden, he managed, “I need a drink.”
“There’s old tea,” Three pointed out, not bothering to care what he’d like.
“I was thinking Romulan Ale, Jack Daniels, Pangalactic Gargleblasters….”
“I don’t know where the Doctor might keep such, even if he had any,” Two frowned.
“This is a TARDIS!” the Master stated simply, pounding his fist down upon the arm of the chair. “Look it up in the database, you silly girl, then go where it tells you and bring me what I want. The best years, a bottle of each. Now, girl!”
Without a further thought to the matter, the Blonde pulled the information as she was told, then trudged out as she was instructed. A few minutes passed and she came back with her arms full with three bottles, as well as a small glass. The small glass, she found out, was not the best of ideas. It had been taken from her by a gloved hand and thrown upon the floor to break into little shards.
Taking his time as he wished, the Master placed each bottle upon the small table, the tray of tea things having been shoved to the side beforehand. “Bring me a crystal bucket, girl. Clean.”
With the opportunity given, Two shied away to hide behind the Cyberman, who turned his attention toward the Master. “You have no right to talk to her like that, sir.”
“I shall talk to my daughter however I please!” he sneered, then, with a sigh, he muttered, “You still haven’t answered the obvious question, either. Well, if you want something done right,” he paused, stalking around the console room until he found the bucket he wanted. Sitting back down in the chair, he poured all three bottles into the vessel, hoping to drown his memories so far into a deep oblivion.
“If you are her father,” the Cyberman intoned, “I am glad she never took me to meet you, as I am her intended.”
“Her in— ” the Master chuckled, ignoring the semi-fatalistic alcoholic concoction. “You can’t be serious?”
“Indeed I am.”
“Father,” the Red-Head muttered. “Father, let it be.”
“And you!” he fumed. “Who’s responsible for that, that growth?” Seeing her look down at her feet, his eyes gave a steely glare. “Stella, you will tell me. Now.”
“He is, father, as I could never love another,” she whispered, half-daring to glance in the Master’s direction.
Glancing towards the Cyberman, to his daughter, and then back again, he lifted an eyebrow. “That’s preposterous! Why, he doesn’t even— Doesn’t have— You know!” he managed, dangling the TCE from his fingers suggestively.
“How would you know?” Three glared.
“Stella, he isn’t wearing any clothing!”
“And you’re obviously upset, so if you’d just calm down— ”
“Of course I’m upset!” the Master exclaimed. “My daughter is having intimate relations, gods can only know how, with a cyborg - and you’re pregnant!”
“Cyborg or not, he was human once,” Three managed, eyes narrowed.
“So you slept with him, once, while he was human. When he became cyberized, you then decided to keep him around as an electronic love-toy, is that it?”
“It is nothing like that,” the Cyberman began, butting into the conversation. “You are twisting things around to make them sound much worse than what they are in reality.”
“Don’t argue with— !” Giving a slight gasp, the Red-Head sank to her knees as she clutched her so-called growth. “…father.”
“Oh, please,” the Master said with a roll of his eyes, barely glancing at the spectacle on the floor. “It is always you with the melodramatics. Always.” Focusing his attention more toward the silver being, he sighed. “Just what are your intentions towards my daughter, Tin Can?”
“I do not appreciate your attempt towards humor at my expense.”
The Blonde, noticing that the Red-Head had not even tried to get up, looked worried. Upon hearing her other self whimper that she wanted her mother, she decided to place the destination into the console without bothering to wonder what might happen if someone decided to stop her. Knowing that everything was entered properly, the TARDIS was placed into motion.
The Master, dutifully ignoring both versions of his daughter, kept his attention on the Cyberman. “Look, you mechanical monstrosity, you shall stop dodging my questions, or whatever functioning attachments you do have will be a lot smaller than they are now. Along with the rest of you.”
“You can do whatever you want with me, I am unafraid. But my intentions are true and good and out of love for your daughter.”
“Did you… have intimate relations with my daughter?”
“I did, but I do not see why you need to know.”
“Right.”
Hearing the all too familiar sound of the TCE in the process of warming up, the Red-Head got to her feet and stepped between the two. “Father, please, don’t!”
Keeping a watch on the console, the Blonde hadn’t noticed what was going on inside the room, but knew that they were finally on Gallitrexia, as per her other self’s want. Glancing up, her eyes went wide as soon as the weapon was fired, catching both of the figures in front of it and shrinking them in an instant.
“You. Don’t go anywhere,” the Master commanded, noticing that she probably wouldn’t have moved regardless. Stepping into his own TARDIS for a split second, he came back out with a chastity belt of some sort. “Put this on.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“You will,” he smiled, taking his time to approach the Blonde. “Unless, of course, you wish to lose a few pounds? You’ve already managed that wonderfully, my dear, and it will not be too hard to go through the process again.”
“I don’t care anymore,” she muttered, her eyes focused on the tiny figures.
“Don’t talk back to me, girl!” A few short strides had him in front of her, the crook of one finger lifting her chin up with a swift jerk. “This is your last chance.”
“I don’t care anymore, don’t you understand that?!” the Blonde shouted. “You’ve ruined my life and my future, just get it over with!”
Seeing the determination in her eyes based on the simple fact that she knew she might finally have him do exactly as she told him, the Master smirked, freeing her chin. “Fine. Have it your way.”
Raising the TCE, he allowed her the fleeting feeling of success before moving forward and clubbing her unconscious.