Last of the Time Lords (Uncensored version)
What's really going to happen at the end of S3?
sensiblecat reveals all.
This is definitely R rated and I should be ashamed of myself. In fact, I am ashamed of myself. My only defence is that
aibhinn put me up to it.
Spoilers for Utopia. You really don't want to be here. Even RTD wouldn't go this far. We should leave. Now.
Missiles rained from the sky, unleashed evil entities towered over Cardiff, caged humans howled in anguish and the Doctor cried, “Ouch!” as he tripped over an unlaced Converse and his chin smashed painfully onto the Roald Dahl Platz.
Martha ignored it all, her eyes fixed on the TARDIS ahead of her, pulsing with brilliant white light and soaring Murray Gold theme music. You always knew it was bad when the choir showed up and started doing their Carmina Burana bit. But still she kept on, the words of the BBC press release ringing in her mind. “Only Martha Jones can save the world!”
Now at last, she understood. The Doctor just wasn’t that into her, no matter how she tried to fool herself when he wiggled his fingers around and said, “Still me.” It was all a matter of where he wiggled them, and out of the end of his sleeve just wasn’t enough any more.
The Master, however, was a different matter. And the Master was, undeniably, HAWT. He knew how to treat a girl. For a start, he was brilliant at running down the last boyfriend, the one that never realised what he had until after the credits rolled and suddenly, with horror, he realised there was no more Coming Next Week, that if he hadn’t come by now, he’d have to save it for the Christmas Special.
So Martha ran. Finally, breathless with lust (not to mention all that running) she entered the TARDIS and saw the Master bathed in a stream of white light and playing the David Bowie song he loved so much.
“Master…..It’s me. I left him. I came to you.”
Twiddling his thumbs in manic glee, the Master turned to her with a triumphant smirk.“Ah, Martha Jones! My little prize. Poor Martha Jones, so undervalued. All those episodes scrubbing floors, working in shops, getting thrown into the sun and having to listen to him whinging he was scared…..All he cared about was Rosey Posey, wasn’t it? He never leaves behind the blondes. But ME - well, I’m blonde, but I wasn’t last time around, and that’s why HE DUMPED ME! Dumped me in a watch….”
“Yeah, right, enough of the pity party,” Martha interrupted. She knew there wasn’t much time left, she’d seen the rushes. “Please, Master, I can’t wait any longer. My poor, weak little human heart will break for love of you. Just SNOG ME NOW!”
It had worked. She’d found his Achilles heel, or rather the bit he rubbed up against the TARDIS when nobody was looking. It wasn’t his foot. He’d never been that agile. But, from the regular rhythm of the pulsing Time Rotor, it seemed that the TARDIS was enjoying it.
“Too bad I have to break up the party,” Martha muttered. “Never could stand you, you creepy old girl. TARDIS this, TARDIS that. Going off in a huff for days on end, just because I called you a machine. All that stuff I went through when he was John Smith, and did he say he was sorry? Did he thump. First thing he said when he got back was, “I’m just going to calibrate the TARDIS, Martha.”
“Oh, shut up, you little moaner!” The Master pulled her roughly towards him and stuck his tongue deep into her throat.
“NOOOOOO!” Batman-like, a trenchcoat-clad hunk landed on top of them, punching the Master and throwing him aside like a rag doll. Horrified, he saw the golden glow in Martha’s eyes.
“I can’t let you do this!” cried Jack. “It’s gonna kill you! Let me take it from you, I can’t die, and besides it’s the perfect pre-watershed excuse to snog you!”
And he did, at least until a familiar pinstripe-suited man crashed through the door brandishing his sonic screwdriver. The door was open anyway, but it looked pretty good. Maybe not quite as good as that time he said “It’s very good at opening doors” and blew apart a room in Canary Wharf just for the hell of it, but never mind. Martha watched in horror as the Doctor punched Jack on the jaw and they began to roll around on the floor getting caught up in the hems of each other’s coats.
“So, you can’t handle a little companion-on-companion interaction, hey, Doctor?” Jack mocked him. “Getting kinda prejudiced, are we?”
“It’s not like you think,” the Doctor muttered, his eyes full of ice and fire, the turning of the universe, and more than a little irritation because there seemed to be a hell of a lot of dry ice in the old console chamber today - either that or Billie Piper had been sneaking a quick fag between takes again. Not that he could blame the poor girl, really; she’d been hiding from the Press in there for the last thirteen weeks whilst her clone starred in “Treats” and got all the glowing reviews.
“Martha’s nothing to me!” he cried, at last. “Even Rose isn’t all that much any more! It’s all about you, Jack! You’re the one I want. Why else do you think they’re showing this at Gay Pride? Now, let’s party like it’s the year six billion trillion.”
“Works for me!” Jack agreed enthusiastically, and they settled down to the best oral sex he’d had for a long time.
The TARDIS exploded. “Hang on a minute!” the Doctor protested. “It was just getting interesting.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Jack.
“Now what have I done?” whined the Doctor.
“Well, if you don’t know I’m not gonna tell you what I’d call it,” said Jack.
“I’ve had enough of this behaviour,” declared the TARDIS, huffily. “By Rassilon, you should be ashamed of yourself. I’ve a good mind to remove you from the Imprimitur, Doctor. This used to be a family show. Back in the old days, you couldn’t even put a friendly arm around a companion’s shoulders.”
“Quite right too,” declared the Doctor, picking hair out from between his teeth. “Makes things far too sticky.”
“Oh, thanks very much!” Jack snapped.
“I’ve had enough,” the TARDIS repeated. “If it’s not you with your foot fetishes and your constant tongue stuff, it’s this Master chap trying to rub me up on the console.”
“You didn’t complain at the time,” protested the Master.
“Well, I’m certainly complaining now. Loudly. And as for you, Dishy Doctor and Moany Martha, I’d have thought you could take a hint - I’ve been dumping you in the most unpleasant places I could come up with all through this Series. I even got the Weeping Angels to take me off for a bit of a break…”
“Oh, thanks very much!” shouted the Doctor. “We had to manage in a bedsit with rising damp in Shepherd’s Bush for three months on ten pounds a week, thanks to you! How’s that for loyalty?”
“And you shook me off, you old tart,” Jack added.
“Don’t be disgusting,” complained the TARDIS. “Right, hang on to your struts, I’m taking you through the Void back to the only woman who ever knew how to handle you.”
The Doctor groaned and put his head in his hands. “If you think this is going to make me say I love her…..”
“Certainly not,” sniffed the TARDIS. “We have the old school fans to think of. I had something very different in mind…..”
“Oh, that’s all right, then,” the Doctor said, brightening up. “Have I time to change my underpants?”
On the beach at Dalig Ulv Standen, Jackie watched in amazement as the TARDIS wonkily materialised and four people in various states of undress tumbled out.
“Where is she?” yelled the Doctor, going up to Jackie and shaking her.
“Ooh, still rude, aren’t we?” Jackie sniffed. “Never changes, does he? Well, Mr High and Mighty, since you ask, she’s over there in the jeep having a pity shag with Mickey. I told her you only say “impossible” for dramatic effect,……”
“NOOOOOOO!” cried the Doctor, running across the beach, where he immediately tripped over a crab and landed face down in the shingle, breaking his glasses and spilling wet sand all over his new suit.
“Oh shit!” he complained.
Jack shrugged. “Told you to get laser eye surgery, would you listen?”
Meanwhile, Jackie had noticed the Master. “Oooh, what a nice young man,” she began, sidling up to him.
Martha nodded at Jack. “I think he might have met his match,” she said.
Pete came across the beach in a foul mood, carrying a tray containing three rapidly cooling cups of very expensive coffee.
“Bloody middle of nowhere,” he muttered. Then he noticed two things. First, the violent rocking of his jeep. “What the hell?” he demanded, indignantly. “Oi, mind my bloody suspension, you lot. Where is everybody, anyway?”
“I think they’re all inside,” said a regal woman, who had appeared behind him, dressed in a ridiculous robe with a circular headdress. Well, circular if a biscuit with a big bite out of the top could be described as circular.
“And who the hell are you?”
She extended her hand. “Romanadvoratrelundur, High President of the Gallifreyan Government in Exile. I was summoned here by the TARDIS to examine a case of gross moral indecency. May I?”
She inclined her head towards the jeep.
“Go ahead,” said Pete. “Bloody imposition, this is. Not like it’s bigger on the inside or anything. And there’ll be kids watching, too. Want a coffee?”
“Later, perhaps. Now I have work to do.” She opened the door of the jeep and a mass of tangled bodies fell out on to the sand. The two Time Lords among them disentangled their clothes with difficulty and stood before her looking sheepish.
“I might have known it would be you two!” Romana said, wearily.
The Doctor and the Master stood silently, looking down at their shoes and flushing to the roots of their hair.
“All right, who started it?” she demanded, coldly.
They pointed at each other and said, simultaneously, “He did!”
sensiblecat reveals all.
This is definitely R rated and I should be ashamed of myself. In fact, I am ashamed of myself. My only defence is that
aibhinn put me up to it.
Spoilers for Utopia. You really don't want to be here. Even RTD wouldn't go this far. We should leave. Now.
Missiles rained from the sky, unleashed evil entities towered over Cardiff, caged humans howled in anguish and the Doctor cried, “Ouch!” as he tripped over an unlaced Converse and his chin smashed painfully onto the Roald Dahl Platz.
Martha ignored it all, her eyes fixed on the TARDIS ahead of her, pulsing with brilliant white light and soaring Murray Gold theme music. You always knew it was bad when the choir showed up and started doing their Carmina Burana bit. But still she kept on, the words of the BBC press release ringing in her mind. “Only Martha Jones can save the world!”
Now at last, she understood. The Doctor just wasn’t that into her, no matter how she tried to fool herself when he wiggled his fingers around and said, “Still me.” It was all a matter of where he wiggled them, and out of the end of his sleeve just wasn’t enough any more.
The Master, however, was a different matter. And the Master was, undeniably, HAWT. He knew how to treat a girl. For a start, he was brilliant at running down the last boyfriend, the one that never realised what he had until after the credits rolled and suddenly, with horror, he realised there was no more Coming Next Week, that if he hadn’t come by now, he’d have to save it for the Christmas Special.
So Martha ran. Finally, breathless with lust (not to mention all that running) she entered the TARDIS and saw the Master bathed in a stream of white light and playing the David Bowie song he loved so much.
“Master…..It’s me. I left him. I came to you.”
Twiddling his thumbs in manic glee, the Master turned to her with a triumphant smirk.“Ah, Martha Jones! My little prize. Poor Martha Jones, so undervalued. All those episodes scrubbing floors, working in shops, getting thrown into the sun and having to listen to him whinging he was scared…..All he cared about was Rosey Posey, wasn’t it? He never leaves behind the blondes. But ME - well, I’m blonde, but I wasn’t last time around, and that’s why HE DUMPED ME! Dumped me in a watch….”
“Yeah, right, enough of the pity party,” Martha interrupted. She knew there wasn’t much time left, she’d seen the rushes. “Please, Master, I can’t wait any longer. My poor, weak little human heart will break for love of you. Just SNOG ME NOW!”
It had worked. She’d found his Achilles heel, or rather the bit he rubbed up against the TARDIS when nobody was looking. It wasn’t his foot. He’d never been that agile. But, from the regular rhythm of the pulsing Time Rotor, it seemed that the TARDIS was enjoying it.
“Too bad I have to break up the party,” Martha muttered. “Never could stand you, you creepy old girl. TARDIS this, TARDIS that. Going off in a huff for days on end, just because I called you a machine. All that stuff I went through when he was John Smith, and did he say he was sorry? Did he thump. First thing he said when he got back was, “I’m just going to calibrate the TARDIS, Martha.”
“Oh, shut up, you little moaner!” The Master pulled her roughly towards him and stuck his tongue deep into her throat.
“NOOOOOO!” Batman-like, a trenchcoat-clad hunk landed on top of them, punching the Master and throwing him aside like a rag doll. Horrified, he saw the golden glow in Martha’s eyes.
“I can’t let you do this!” cried Jack. “It’s gonna kill you! Let me take it from you, I can’t die, and besides it’s the perfect pre-watershed excuse to snog you!”
And he did, at least until a familiar pinstripe-suited man crashed through the door brandishing his sonic screwdriver. The door was open anyway, but it looked pretty good. Maybe not quite as good as that time he said “It’s very good at opening doors” and blew apart a room in Canary Wharf just for the hell of it, but never mind. Martha watched in horror as the Doctor punched Jack on the jaw and they began to roll around on the floor getting caught up in the hems of each other’s coats.
“So, you can’t handle a little companion-on-companion interaction, hey, Doctor?” Jack mocked him. “Getting kinda prejudiced, are we?”
“It’s not like you think,” the Doctor muttered, his eyes full of ice and fire, the turning of the universe, and more than a little irritation because there seemed to be a hell of a lot of dry ice in the old console chamber today - either that or Billie Piper had been sneaking a quick fag between takes again. Not that he could blame the poor girl, really; she’d been hiding from the Press in there for the last thirteen weeks whilst her clone starred in “Treats” and got all the glowing reviews.
“Martha’s nothing to me!” he cried, at last. “Even Rose isn’t all that much any more! It’s all about you, Jack! You’re the one I want. Why else do you think they’re showing this at Gay Pride? Now, let’s party like it’s the year six billion trillion.”
“Works for me!” Jack agreed enthusiastically, and they settled down to the best oral sex he’d had for a long time.
The TARDIS exploded. “Hang on a minute!” the Doctor protested. “It was just getting interesting.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Jack.
“Now what have I done?” whined the Doctor.
“Well, if you don’t know I’m not gonna tell you what I’d call it,” said Jack.
“I’ve had enough of this behaviour,” declared the TARDIS, huffily. “By Rassilon, you should be ashamed of yourself. I’ve a good mind to remove you from the Imprimitur, Doctor. This used to be a family show. Back in the old days, you couldn’t even put a friendly arm around a companion’s shoulders.”
“Quite right too,” declared the Doctor, picking hair out from between his teeth. “Makes things far too sticky.”
“Oh, thanks very much!” Jack snapped.
“I’ve had enough,” the TARDIS repeated. “If it’s not you with your foot fetishes and your constant tongue stuff, it’s this Master chap trying to rub me up on the console.”
“You didn’t complain at the time,” protested the Master.
“Well, I’m certainly complaining now. Loudly. And as for you, Dishy Doctor and Moany Martha, I’d have thought you could take a hint - I’ve been dumping you in the most unpleasant places I could come up with all through this Series. I even got the Weeping Angels to take me off for a bit of a break…”
“Oh, thanks very much!” shouted the Doctor. “We had to manage in a bedsit with rising damp in Shepherd’s Bush for three months on ten pounds a week, thanks to you! How’s that for loyalty?”
“And you shook me off, you old tart,” Jack added.
“Don’t be disgusting,” complained the TARDIS. “Right, hang on to your struts, I’m taking you through the Void back to the only woman who ever knew how to handle you.”
The Doctor groaned and put his head in his hands. “If you think this is going to make me say I love her…..”
“Certainly not,” sniffed the TARDIS. “We have the old school fans to think of. I had something very different in mind…..”
“Oh, that’s all right, then,” the Doctor said, brightening up. “Have I time to change my underpants?”
On the beach at Dalig Ulv Standen, Jackie watched in amazement as the TARDIS wonkily materialised and four people in various states of undress tumbled out.
“Where is she?” yelled the Doctor, going up to Jackie and shaking her.
“Ooh, still rude, aren’t we?” Jackie sniffed. “Never changes, does he? Well, Mr High and Mighty, since you ask, she’s over there in the jeep having a pity shag with Mickey. I told her you only say “impossible” for dramatic effect,……”
“NOOOOOOO!” cried the Doctor, running across the beach, where he immediately tripped over a crab and landed face down in the shingle, breaking his glasses and spilling wet sand all over his new suit.
“Oh shit!” he complained.
Jack shrugged. “Told you to get laser eye surgery, would you listen?”
Meanwhile, Jackie had noticed the Master. “Oooh, what a nice young man,” she began, sidling up to him.
Martha nodded at Jack. “I think he might have met his match,” she said.
Pete came across the beach in a foul mood, carrying a tray containing three rapidly cooling cups of very expensive coffee.
“Bloody middle of nowhere,” he muttered. Then he noticed two things. First, the violent rocking of his jeep. “What the hell?” he demanded, indignantly. “Oi, mind my bloody suspension, you lot. Where is everybody, anyway?”
“I think they’re all inside,” said a regal woman, who had appeared behind him, dressed in a ridiculous robe with a circular headdress. Well, circular if a biscuit with a big bite out of the top could be described as circular.
“And who the hell are you?”
She extended her hand. “Romanadvoratrelundur, High President of the Gallifreyan Government in Exile. I was summoned here by the TARDIS to examine a case of gross moral indecency. May I?”
She inclined her head towards the jeep.
“Go ahead,” said Pete. “Bloody imposition, this is. Not like it’s bigger on the inside or anything. And there’ll be kids watching, too. Want a coffee?”
“Later, perhaps. Now I have work to do.” She opened the door of the jeep and a mass of tangled bodies fell out on to the sand. The two Time Lords among them disentangled their clothes with difficulty and stood before her looking sheepish.
“I might have known it would be you two!” Romana said, wearily.
The Doctor and the Master stood silently, looking down at their shoes and flushing to the roots of their hair.
“All right, who started it?” she demanded, coldly.
They pointed at each other and said, simultaneously, “He did!”