timey_wimey | [RL con el Master - Time Vortex poisoning! :(]

The Master caught the package with both hands... and shot The Doctor a look that could've set a lesser being alight. (Smart thinking, not turning the hob on.)

"...No thank you."

He gingerly set it aside as if it were something poisonous and picked up a sandwich instead. He tore at it ravenously, barely taking the time to chew.

"This hunger," he said between bites. "It's seized me, ever since I came back. Anything I can get my hands on."

He had hardly finished the first one before he started making another. He certainly didn't look like he had put on any weight.

The Doctor shrugged, completely unperturbed by the glare. "Suit yourself. All the more for me then."

He cupped a mug of tea in both hands and leaned against the counter, a small line between his eyebrows as he watched the Master devour his sandwich.

"Strange..." he mused. "Very strange, in fact. Though I guess that we really don't know what to expect, what with -" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "Anyway," he said with a heavy sigh, "M'not surprised you're hungry now. Seems to me you haven't really given much thought to eating, erm... recently."

The Master glanced up at him coldly but said nothing. He stared at The Doctor for a long time, expressionless, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he ate.

"...Make me a cup of tea, would you."

The Doctor started out of his reverie. "Sorry, what? Oh, yes! Tea." He absent-mindedly poured a cup and stirred it before sliding it across the bench towards the Master.

"Hope you don't like it with sugar, I seem to have run low on that."

"I do, actually." A faint smirk played on his lips. "But I suppose I'll settle this once."

He sipped at it quietly, letting it linger near his mouth, taking in the warmth.

"You were distracted. Letting down your guard?"

The Doctor took a sip of his own tea. "Mmmm, a little bit. Have to watch that," he said with a weak smile.

What distracted you, Doctor. What thought were you lost in. Show it to me.

The intrusion came suddenly this time, The Master's thoughts loud and extant, as if he were speaking in his ear.

He stood very still, eyes shut and head cocked slightly to one side, listening. It had been so long. He listened to the other Time Lord's thoughts on occasion when he was his pet, yes, but that was different. The feelings were all muddled, sputtering fragments of words half-forgotten, soaked with pain. These were fresh and vibrant, the Doctor he remembered. It was good.

The Doctor started at that sudden intrusion, eyes wide open in shock. His first instinct was to get him out, get him away, but he forced himself to stop and wait, to stop instinctively closing his mind off. Other thoughts demanding, wanting, pulsing away underneath his. It was a bit of a shock after growing so used to the quiet, almost the silence, of being alone.

Show it to me.

He glanced at the other Time Lord. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?

He could feel The Doctor's glance on his skin. He turned his head blindly.

You were thinking of me. Thinking of ways to trap me? Musing over my show of weakness? It gnaws at me. So much easier this way. No stumbling over the words left unspoken, just purity.

But the bond worked both ways. Though his emotions were buried under layers of denial it still bled through... he was nervous. The uncertainty gnawed at him, and his greedy mind wanted it gone.

Trap you? Well that's rich. You're the one who came to me and not the other way round.

He took a while to gather himself, now that the sensation of contact with another mind wasn't feeling so intrusive.

Alright, fine, so what if I was thinking of you? The thought was almost quiet, subdued. This is more than a little strange for me as well, you know.

That thought was loaded with so much behind it - understanding, regret, relief, confusion swirling around it in equal measures like a crazy rainbow.

The Master began to sift through The Doctor's surface thoughts, feeling for the one he wanted, little tendrils, whiskers grazing in the dark. He set his tea on the counter and edged closer, furrowing his brow in concentration.

Yes. I know. But didn't you want to keep me?

The memory of The Doctor's own voice played back to him. "Mm. If that's what I have to do."

Keep me. Like a pet. Well I'm here, aren't I? I'm right where you wanted me! If I were you I'd take this opportunity... or is it compassion that drives you to distraction? Tell me, tell me, tell me.

The thought sounded aggressive, urgent, but he was scared and there was little hiding it. Frantic scratching, trying so hard to stay in control, throbbing drumbeats urging him on.

The hands clapsed round the Doctor's own teacup tightened until the knuckles turned white, a ragged breath escaped him and his eyes shut in concentration, almost discomfort, as the Master delved through his thoughts.

If that's not what you wanted then why come here in the first place? Seems pretty stupid to me if that's what you're expecting me to do. Not exactly the best end to your elaborate scheme. I mean, do you want me to 'keep you'? Does everything here have to have some sort of motive behind it, or...

He sighed and his next thought was almost gentle, a counterpoint to the restess drums. Why don't you just tell me what you want for once?

The Master felt this discomfort. It urged him on, deeper and deeper. The Doctor's projected thoughts almost faded away as he watched every memory that floated to the surface. They disgusted him.

Why don't you just tell me what you want for once?

This sliced through his hunter mind and stopped him cold. His eyes flew open as the question seeped through.

What I want. What I want, what I want...

"...What I want?"

He looked up at The Doctor as if he had never considered the question before. The drums drove him inexorably forward, driving him to do what he was born to do. That was what he wanted, wasn't it?

"...I want you to play our game again," he said softly, almost pleadingly. "You didn't play fair the last time. I-" he laughed to himself quietly, somewhat embarrassed to admit, "I don't know what to do with myself when we aren't playing it."

A flash of memory arced across his mind, only for a moment, but enough to be seen - a young boy, himself, frightened and alone in the dark.

The Doctor's mouth was open in a small "o" shape, opening his eyes to look at the Master with compassion, almost empathy. He set his teacup on the bench beside him.

Not alone, not anymore. Not if you don't want to be.

"Is that really what you want?" he said quietly. "Or is it just that you can't remember anything else anymore?"

The Master's eyes grew wide, the utter desolation - the fear - of his heart welling up behind them for the first time in what must've been decades. He drew back shakily, clutching the counter so tightly it seemed all his weight was put upon it. He bristled; the emotion could be seen rippling across his form, fear into anger, anger at himself for being so weak, anger at The Doctor for taking advantage of it... anger at everything. He snarled and his teeth were chattering. Even his mind seemed to shake. He flew through his own memories, searching desperately to prove him wrong.

But there was nothing, nothing but the endless drumming of deep time. The Master and The Doctor in an eternal spiral, two primordial gods locked in combat for all time.

He grimaced and opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come, turned to sand in his throat. They screamed through his mind.

The game is all I have. And I hate you, because you never had to play.

The raw thought, the emotion, created resounding echoes in the Doctor's mind that almost left him reeling from the force behind it, even as his eyes watched the Master unfathomably. Watching as the truth hit home, hard.

I know.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair in a hopeless, almost lost gesture, his own voice playing back to him.

"Don't you see, all we've got is each other." And the game, always the game. Stay one step ahead, stay alive, keep raising the stakes, higher and higher. It's enough to command anyone's attention.

I know, he repeated, almost like an actor who'd forgotten his next lines. And believe me, I don't blame you for it.

The Master stared at him incredulously.

"...You don't blame me for it?"

Wrong answer.

His mind clamped shut, and an instant later he was slamming his fist square into the side of The Doctor's head.

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock just before the blow hit. Caught unexpectedly as he was, he stumbled back, catching himself on the edge of the bench as a grunt of pain escaped him, his head throbbing.

He rose slowly back to his feet and glared at the Master, feeling anger starting to rise in him. "Bastard," he hissed.

The Master rolled his neck. Bloody Omega, that felt good.

He gave The Doctor a cruel smile.

"Ohhh, is that right. I'm the bastard. Not you, never you, surely. You'd deny my right, you'd keep me like a
bloody pet, you'd leave me to burn alone and I'm the bastard! HA!"

He surged forward, feinting a strike.

"Hit me. C'mon, I'm the bastard right, I deserve it!"

The Doctor recoiled as if stung, his expression shifting from shocked to hurt and finally anger. Well fuck, if that was what he wanted, he was done resisting, was sick of being looked at like that.

"Fine," he growled. He surged towards the Master, clenched fist driving towards his left jaw.

He could've avoided it. The Doctor had never been much of a brawler. But he wanted it
to hit. He wanted the image to be seared into the other Time Lord's mind, to know that on this day I made you strike me.

The blow connected, whipping his neck to one side violently. He stumbled back, dazed for a moment, and shook the stars from his vision.

"...Heh."

He hunched down and ran at The Doctor, barreling into his chest.

He felt a strange mixture of satisfaction and resentment when the blow hit, because he knew that the Master could have avoided that, knew that really he was being played like a puppet, but at this moment? He was past caring.

As the Master ran at him he was once again knocked off his feet, the air leaving his lungs in one big oof as he fell to the floor and landed hard. Wincing, he got back to his feet, breathing heavily and lunging once again for the other Time Lord.

He was so past caring.

The Master was ready for him. He brought his arms back and leaned into the blow, wrapping his right arm around The Doctor's neck. But the other Time Lord was more forceful than he expected - his footing failed and he was forced backwards, slamming into the counter. He shouted in pain but held on tenaciously, squeezing The Doctor's neck as hard as he could muster without completely slipping to the floor.

He was suddenly aware of the frantic beating of their hearts, their gasping breath, grinding teeth and pain and thoughts...

His head swam with perverse glee. This is what he wanted.

The Doctor gasped in pain as the Master squeezed his neck and frantically scrabbled for purchase, fighting to free himself from the grip, which while not as life threatening as it would be for a human, was still decidedly painful.

"Let. Go."

As his hands and arms indiscriminately beat both the Master and the air around them, a stray blow caught the cooling and forgotten teacups, sending both them and their contents spiraling down over the fighting pair, one cup smashing on the floor.

The sound of the smash seemed to bring him to his senses. He stopped struggling and stayed still for an instant. Then the absurdity of the situation hit home.

He started laughing; quietly at first, but growing louder, unable to keep the laughter in despite his current position.

The Master flinched when the lukewarm tea hit, splashing his face and seeping into the side of his suit. He had been so absorbed in their struggle that for a good three seconds he was completely baffled by what had just happened. He glanced down to see the broken cup, and realized he was fighting The Doctor in a fucking kitchenette.

Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight swirling in his brain, or just feeling so drained and delirious from everything... but he began to laugh too. He loosened his grip from around the other Time Lord's neck and slid to the floor, laughing uncontrollably.

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