scarfman | Sauce for... 1/1; Doctor, Martha, Master; G (Reply)

Title: Sauce for... 1/1
Author: scarfman
Characters/Pairing: the Doctor, Martha, the Master, Donna, Rose (offstage)
Rating: G
Setting/Spoilers: mid Season 2008
Disclaimer: This work is derivative of property of the BBC. No profit shall be made and no market of the owner(s) is infringed upon.
Betareader: qtrhorserider
Summary: She knows it when she sees it.
I like the dialog in the post-Last of the Time Lords AUs popping up in which the Master didn't die and is coerced into joining the TARDIS crew (well I skip the slash ones), and I'd been wanting to try my hand; and then my ending came.
crossposted scarfman dwfiction lifeonmartha

"Another planet saved for democracy!" cried the Master with apparent delight, wringing his hands. "Bwahahaha!"

"Leave off," Martha growled, following Donna and the Time Lords into the TARDIS and shutting the doors.

"What? I'm just trying to get into the spirit of the thing. In my own way." He followed the Doctor to the console. Martha remained just inside the doors, grateful for the increasing distance between them. Donna merely shot through the console room to the interior door without looking at either Time Lord, probably heading for her room where the Doctor always made her leave the flask she'd been maintaining since the Master had come aboard.

"That's a contradiction in terms," growled the Doctor.

"I really, really don't get this," said the Master. "Here I am, the supposed epitome of the dark side of humanoid nature - however redeemable, theoretically - and all the good guys can do is get on my case for being all smiles and encouragement! You two need to lighten up, eliminate the negative!"

"You are -" Martha started to retort, even knowing that was what he wanted. Then a genuinely new thought came and she stopped.

The Master waited for her to continue; he didn't need input to be spiteful but he preferred to throw one's own words back in one's face. When she didn't go on he turned back to the Doctor. "Do you mind?" he said, raising his wrist.

"I suppose," muttered the Doctor grudgingingly. He went to the Master, drawing the sonic screwdriver, which he used to unlock the bracelet on the Master's wrist, and its identical twin on his own.

"Where did you get those, anyway?" the Master wondered. "They don't seem your style. You like a girl who's suckered in by a smile and a non-sequitur."

"Got'em from Jack," said the Doctor, his attention back on the console, standing on the opposite side of it from the Master.

"Hah! Might've guessed. That boy was certainly into bondage while I knew him. Wait. Hold on. No, that was me."

"They're Time Agent equipment." The Doctor continued to allow himself to be baited. "Jack offered them when we had a Slitheen prisoner, the time we were charging the TARDIS in Cardiff with ..." He trailed off.

"With Rose?" the Master finished for him. "Even when you don't say it, you say it."

"Shut up," said the Doctor.

"You first," said the Master. "But you won't, will you? You'll go on about her forever. Because that's what she expected, isn't it? You keep telling them you don't do domestic. But she expected it anyway, didn't she? That time you thought you'd lost the TARDIS, and you bandied about the M word?" He faced Martha again, his grin plastered back on. "'Mortgage', not 'marriage'. That far even Rose never got him."

"Jealous?" said Martha.

"Of what? He tells me everything. Blood is thicker, yada yada."

The Doctor was stubbornly entirely involved in setting the TARDIS coordinates for Oz or Narnia and not hearing a word. The Master continued anyway. "But that isn't really it, is it? Expert at the brush off, you are. She'd never have succeeded at tying you down. And Rose would have left you. Void rift or no, she would've, eventually. You know she would've."

He fell silent a minute. Maybe he thought he'd said said the most damaging thing he could possibly say. Certainly Martha believed there couldn't be anything worse. But she was wrong.

"Or ..." said the Master, with quiet revelation, "maybe you don't know it." He circled the console a short ways, toward the Doctor but around the side further from Martha. "We love what reminds us of ourselves, don't we? Was Rose just as content to dodge your issues as you were? And you hers?

"You did think she'd want to stay forever! Maybe you were even right!" He laughed. "You know they never actually do and, this time, you believed it anyway!" He stopped laughing. "Losing Rose didn't do this to you. You did it to yourself."

"Get out," said Martha.

"Love to," said the Master cheerfully. "Take it up with him."

But Martha had been talking to the Doctor. She'd meant to wait till she could catch him alone, and give him a whole talking-to. But now she just skipped to the punchline. She walked up to the console, so that each of the three was a hundred and twenty degrees around it from the other two. "Get out, now."

She saw the Doctor take her meaning [The thing is, it's like my friend Vickie...]. She saw his hearts break. The he let her see the mask go back on. Yeah, she deserved to know he knew he was doing it.

"No, she's right!" the Doctor declaimed, bounding for the interior door. "Right this way!"

The Master frowned after him. "The exit's the other way, lamebrain."

Martha shrugged. "I don't know what he's up to," she offered, honestly enough.

"When I want your opinion I'll ice-skate across Hell for it," said the Master, not even looking at her. Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he went after the Doctor, Martha following. At a safe distance.

The Doctor led them silently through twisty, roundeled corridors for many minutes till they arrived at an entirely usual door. "There," he said, opening the door on a room whose area was about twice the dimensions of a police box. "The solution to all our problems."

The Master eyed him suspiciously.

"Go on," said the Doctor, jerking his head at the room.

The Master hesitantly stepped inside, giving the apparently empty room a three-sixty. "What's in here?" he asked.

"You," said the Doctor. He swung a corridor roundel out on a hinge, and pressed a big blue button in the compartment behind.

The Master twigged at the last moment, but it was too late. He ended up frozen in mid-leap, suspended off the floor, behind what looked like a sheet of glass or ice mounted in the door.

The Doctor reached out and laid a hand on the transparent barrier, so Martha knew it was safe for her to feel it. It wasn't ice; it was room temperature, and so smooth she could barely keep contact with it. She couldn't tell from looking whether the material was solid through the whole room or just blocking the door in a plate.

The Doctor took his hand away. Martha had never seen him look so sad. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said. "Maybe someday, he can be ..." But she knew neither of them believed it or the Master wouldn't be in there.

"Martha Jones," he said, still looking at the Master, "you are so smart, and so brave, and so right. This is me getting out."

When Donna came down the corridor Martha saw her, but the Doctor didn't, because the two were wrapped up in a hug. "What're you two up to?" Donna asked. As a medical professional Martha could tell that Donna had had only a swig or two, but she could tell. "Where's the little git?" Donna came even with the open door. "Put'im in the freezer, did you? Well, good for you -" Donna looked back at them and lost the air from her sails when she finally saw Martha glaring at her to shut up. "Well ..." Donna patted the Doctor's back. "You'll be all right. You deserve so much better."

"I know," said the Doctor, loosing Martha and turning to hug Donna. "I've already got them."

fin