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“Can I help you, young man?”
The figure had been lingering against a wall opposite the junkyard for over half an hour. Its’ deep eyes were transfixed- exactly on where The Doctor had his sensors set up. The TARDIS had alerted him. He dismissed it at first, but when it had not moved a muscle…
She snorted. “I’m older than you.” Flicked a cigarette out of her pocket. “Got a light?”
The Doctor shook his head. “If this is about absconding, I assure you I fully intend to return-”
It cackled, producing a lighter. “oh I DO have one!” he lit his cigarette “walk with me. Theta.” he set off at a breakneck pace.
The Doctors’ hearts skipped. He rushed to keep up. “I suppose you expect me to believe this is not some elaborate trap from the council, hm?”
“You’re following me.”
“To where?”
It stopped sharply. Took a long drag of its’ cigarette. Gestured across the street. “There. Café. Chat.” It barrelled across the road, ignoring shouts from drivers.
The Doctor waited, then followed. No one working for the council would act this unruly, would they?
“If you aren’t with the council,” he allowed the tea to be poured for him “then what is your interest in my good self? Susan and I have no scandal or story, the child simply wants knowledge.”
A wicked grin flashed across the face opposite. “My interest in you? Oh, love, there’s not enough time on this stupid rock to say all that.”
It clicked. “Koschei.”
“Master.” He hissed, flecks of stubble twisting round his glossy lips.
The Doctor shuffled on his chair. They hadn’t ended things on… brilliant terms.
“Uncomfortable, are we? Never wanted to see me again?” she smirked.
A torrent of emotions crashed through him- memory, pain, agony, potential. All the potential. The endless hope and joy, running through the grass hand in hand, boundless and free. Potential. The blood through their fingers, the sky in their eyes, his hair, its’ face, her hands, his Koschei.
“My dear.” He wasn’t sure where to look. The one in front of him had the same endless eyes. Loss and fury and potential pulsing. “I never EXPECTED to see you again. I hope you appreciate the difference.”
The Master wrinkled her nose. “Whatever.”
“I ought to…”
The Masters’ anger was radiating from her. In every direction- it flooded the café, reached out, wrapped round The Doctor, suffocating him.
He brushed his fingers over The Masters’ hand- which was shaking and covered in little cuts.
“It was a mistake to depart without…” he grabbed it firmly “without bidding a proper farewell.”
The Master didn’t look at him but shuddered. “I did something. Something REALLY bad.”
He tried to put aside hypothesising. “If the council is after you, my dear, I will assist.”
The Master pulled his hand away, shaking his head. “No. I’m here to ‘chat’.” He stood up. “You want a slice of cake, love? I got contemporary money, it’s on me.” She didn’t wait for an answer, heading to the counter.
Contemporary money. The Master was clearly prepared. How long had it taken to find The Doctor? Could he really be found that quickly? Or had his old friend taken unknown hours to hunt him down… How much did she know about Susan? How would he explain The Master…
“Victoria sponge.” Announced The Master, winking dramatically, placing it before The Doctor.
“Thank you.” His favourite. He didn’t remember ever telling The Master this, in fact- it had only been his favourite since he arrived on Earth. “How much older are you?”
“Mm, love, you should never ask a lady his age.” The Master picked at its’ scone.
He ignored the comment. Focused on maintaining his dignity, a feat that always seemed impossible around Koschei. “Is there anything in particular you wish to ‘chat’ about?”
“Nah” it shrugged, mouth full. “I’m bored. Normally that gets pretty explosive…” it chuckled “but I was in the area and look at you! So young. Well- ish.”
There was something very violent, very unsettling, about the way she spat the word ‘ish’. It sent The Doctors’ hairs on end. His skin went cold. Even with good, hot tea in his system…
“I presume you have met my future selves- some of them, perhaps?”
It inhaled. Picked at its nail varnish and puckered its lips. “A FEW of em, sunshine.”
“Doctor.” He smiled, but he knew he was worried. And if anyone would be able to see it, it would be his old friend.
Regeneration was something they had been taught about (obviously). He couldn’t lie, he was dreading it. He refused to even think about it. Someone else walking around, in his ship, with his memories in their head, calling themself Doctor. It made him queasy. More than queasy. It was a feeling he couldn’t place, fear? That seemed too small a word.
“Don’t worry, love, they’re all you.” The Master still seemed angry, her neck almost twitching with effort to hold back… something. “At least to ME. I know who you are no matter what.”
It didn’t comfort him. It made him fear the experience more. “How does it feel…” he knew the question was impertinent, but this was his friend. Or had been, once. “Do I want to know?”
“Mm depends.” The Master clicked her teeth. “Sorta bit different every time. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts.”
“Language, young- um. Continue.”
“It’s beautiful.” He looked away. His eyes were large and dark and sombre and hurt. “It really is.” He swallowed. “How are you, ey? How’s life!” It grinned a mad grin.
He tried to avoid the wild, blinding, light of the smile, which threatened to surface those schoolboy memories.
“I have been reading more poetry, recently.” He quietly said.
“All of time and space, and you sit in the 1960s reading human poetry.” The Master rolled its’ eyes, drinking its tea.
“Susan was studying Wordsworth in school.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with a serviette. “She enjoys her time there. I believe it is far less intensive than the academy, good for her soul.”
“Mm.” The Master shuffled in her chair. “Yeah. But how are YOU?”
He said nothing. The fact she was asking meant she still knew him well, very well.
“That bad?” he leant back.
“I will not force Susan to move on, so long as this experience benefits her. But you… you understand, yes?” No one had understood like Koschei. The Master. Whatever names he uses.
“Wanderlust.” It breathed.
“Quite.”
That was all they needed to say, really. They drank their tea and ate their cakes. It started to rain. The Doctors’ face fell. He was constantly caught unprepared on this blue planet.
The Master produced a small, folded umbrella from her pocket. “I… ‘read’ the forecast.” She stood up, brushing out her jacket, and passed it over the table.
“Thank you.” He rose to leave.
“Walk you back?”
The rain fell round them, side-by-side, shoulders brushing under the umbrella. The Master with one hand in his jacket pocket, and another on a cigarette. The Doctor resented the habit, the smell, but it had been a long time since he’d allowed anyone so close to him. And each brush of the shoulder sent horribly familiar waves through him. He tried not to walk too slow, having seen the other Gallifreyan’s haste. He hoped his old friend appreciated the effort.
At the shelter of the junkyard, he folded the umbrella. Went to pass it back.
“Eh I’ve got loads.” She shrugged.
The sky rumbled.
“My dear fellow you cannot be allowed to walk out in this- oh.” Several things clicked at once. Organising their rendezvous around Susan’s school schedule- he’d already admitted to the weather, ensured the café was a far enough walk to manufacture the awkward intimacy of their return. Every step was planned.
The Master smirked.
“I do not appreciate this.” He threw the umbrella at her feet. “Leave.”
“In THIS weather?” it pouted. The wind howled, an umbrella wouldn’t work.
“You aren’t made of sugar.”
It tutted, then turned to leave.
“Oh wow! Grandfather, it really is- hello?”
The Master locked eyes with him. It was the same look as when Borusa had split them into different classes for Interdimensional Metatheory. This wasn’t ‘the plan’.
He smiled. “My dear child, this is an old friend who has joined us for dinner. Go inside and get yourself dry.”
She cocked her head. “Oh? From home!?”
The Master gave a dry laugh. Said nothing.
The Doctor nodded “You will catch yourself a cold.” He eyed the TARDIS.
She grabbed The Masters’ hand, shaking it enthusiastically, before heading inside.
“Well.” The Master clicked its’ teeth. “I’m staying?”
“For dinner.”
“Why?”
“Come now,” he raised an eyebrow “surely you weren’t looking to rush off in THIS weather?”
It stifled a growl, an animalistic fury flaring across its’ eyes. “Okay!” It brushed down its’ jacket. Then (at his usual frantic pace) shot forward into the TARDIS.
The Doctor followed.
Sometimes he enjoyed having the TARDIS create ‘real’ food. Mostly because Susan enjoyed it. She loved humanity. And he loved seeing her curiosity- she wanted to try everything.
He walked over to a machine, tapped a few inputs.
“Do I get a choice?” The Master grumbled.
“I think you made quite enough of todays’ choices, hm?” he turned around.
She was smiling. Not a fiendish grin, but a real, adoring, smile.
“It will materialise in the dining room.” The Doctor set off. At a leisurely pace.
Susan was already there. She waved eagerly.
A roast dinner, gravy, potatoes, roast beef, vegetables.
“A little wine?” The Doctor turned to his old friend. “I have some from my last trip to Rome.”
The Master nodded, taking a seat.
“Can I try a bit?” Susan asked.
“Mm. No, not tonight.” He passed a glass to The Master. Then turned to his granddaughter. “How was school?”
“Oh very good!” She smiled. “How do you know each other, from home? Did you go to the academy? I’ve been trying to ask grandfather what that was like-”
“My child you mustn’t bombard our guest with questions, WE are hosting, remember.”
The Master chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “It’s not a problem.” She locked eyes with The Doctor. “At least not for me…”
They paused, locked in each others’ gaze.
“So…” Susan broke the silence.
“Yes!” The Master jumped back into movement, cutting his veg, sipping his wine. “We attended the academy together, didn’t we?”
The Doctor simply nodded in response.
“Yes, yes, yes! Known him since we were eight.” It sliced enthusiastically.
“Really?!” Her eyes widened.
The Master grinned. “Oh yeah. Bezzie mates we were, for ever and ever, we were.” He held up two fingers and crossed them, to symbolise the connection. “Inseparable.”
Susan looked worried. “I- I’m sorry I don’t think grandfather has- who did you say you…”
“I left Gallifrey behind.” The Doctor shot him a fierce look.
“My apologies, Doc.” It drawled, lazily shoving a forkful of beef into its’ mouth.
“Doctor.” He corrected. Then smiled at Susan. “We were friends as young men, then we grew apart.” He sipped on his own wine. “It is a pleasure to have the opportunity to catch up.”
“I am usually known as The Master.” It looked at Susan. “I’m relatively sure we have met, under other names.”
The Doctor scrunched his brow. “Hm, yes, a couple of times. She won’t remember you.”
Susan folded her arms. “Please don’t speak about me, grandfather.”
“Yeah, Doctor.”
He inhaled. Then continued eating.
“What was the academy like?” Susan asked.
“Interesting.”
“Shit.”
“Koschei!” The Doctor hissed.
“MASTER.” She pointed a knife at The Doctor, hand shaking, then slammed it down on the table.
Susan gasped.
The Doctor stood up. “Let me deal with this.” He kept his eyes locked on The Master.
“But-”
“Listen to your granddad.”
He forced his voice to be gentle. “It will be okay, I promise.”
Hesitantly, she pushed her chair back, then made her way out of the dining room.
“Do you think that was wise?” the battle to keep his voice tame was a losing one, he felt it fray at the edges.
The Master sat back, languidly. Shrugged. “You invited me.”
“I expected some decorum.”
She scoffed. “Expect something else, love.”
He collected his friend… enemys’ jacket, passing it, then gesturing to follow. They walked together, in silence. To the consoleroom. The wind howled outside.
The Doctor opened the doors. “Leave.”
“It’s..”
“I will not allow you to point a knife at myself in front of my granddaughter.”
A pause. Finally The Master whispered, barely audible- “What about now?”
His hearts skipped. The storm thundered away. There was a correct answer here, and it was NOT yes. Not after that behaviour at dinner, not now. “I see no problem.” He flicked the doors shut.
The Doctor was nothing if not reckless.
After all, he could hardly let an old friend leave on such a horrible night. Not when his TARDIS had several perfectly warm, dry, beds. That would hardly make for a gracious host... would it?