The Master and the Doctor get ice cream (closed)

[a_lonely_god]

“Right then!” The Doctor exclaimed the moment the Master was done talking to Mickey, clapping his hands together and rubbing his palms back and forth in a ‘let’s get down to business’ sort of way. “What do you want to do first? We could explore the park so you can see where everything is, if you want. Or we could go straight to Toon Town so you can

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[hear_the_drums]

It was like watching a three-year-old on a sugar high in the middle of a Trans-Galactic Fair.

The Master was so disoriented -and uncomfortable and furious- that he stood rooted to the spot, watching the Doctor walk off as though he actually expected him to follow. It was beyond insulting, beyond arrogant, beyond....

Then again, he had absolutely no idea what to do or where to go without the bastard.

Then again, the Doctor would just have to come back round and get him because he needed a little more coercion than that, damnit.

[a_lonely_god]

“Well, aren’t you coming?” the Doctor asked when he finally noticed the Master wasn’t following and turned back around.

[hear_the_drums]

"No." He gave a challenging sort of blink.

[a_lonely_god]

“Why not?” the Doctor asked, in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice. His head tilted to the said questioningly. “Don’t you want ice cream?”

[hear_the_drums]

The Master didn't actively recall the Doctor being quite so... bouncy. Then again, keeping him at the physical age of well-over-one-hundred most of the time may have had something to do with that. That and the fact that most of their conversations had been rushed or terrified -on the other's end- in the past year. It wasn't that he didn't have memories of this regeneration's buoyancy, it was simply that those were Yana's memories.

He had tried very hard to take only what he needed from those. He wouldn't linger on them.

Taking two of those thick glass dessert dishes out, he slid one over to the Doctor, shaking his head once as he listened to him heave again. "Genius, you are. Add peanuts. Well done." The point was that it was deficient, not that it could be fixed. Trying to make up his mind about flavours, he started tapping a Rhthym on the counter with his spoon. -da-da da-da-

[a_lonely_god]

The Doctor gave the Master a wide grin as though he had just received an honest compliment.

“There’s very little in the Universe, Master,” he said in a lecturing sort of tone, shaking his spoon at the other Time Lord, “that can’t be fixed if you just take the time to think.”

He started scooping large spoonfuls of chocolaty, marshmallowy, goodness into his bowl, but the third spoonful somehow got diverted to his mouth on the way. He ate it thoughtfully -the Master was right, there weren’t enough nuts- and then started to stick the spoon back into the ice cream tub before catching himself, shooting a slightly guilty look over to the Master, and then grudgingly going to get another utensil.

It was while he was rummaging in the drawer that the rhythm started.

“So, Master!” he said brightly, diving into the freezer again. “Did you meet anyone interesting in your little Q and A session?”

[hear_the_drums]

His temper flared, his head muddling with noise. "Yes, and you fix everything, don't you? I think that high horse can be abandoned right now, Doctor, unless you want something broken over that fragile head of yours."

He didn't actually care whether the Doctor double-dipped in the ice cream - he wasn't eating that particular kind. He started in on mint chocolate chip and then moved to mocha.

Finally, there is something the Master could respond to without feeling the need to strangle him. "The Antichrist," he said matter-of-factly. "And Lucifer and some sort of angel, I think." -fix that, then-

[a_lonely_god]

The Doctor jabbed the spoon into the ice cream rather more viciously than he intended at the Master’s admonishment.

It was never right, never the right words -or never the right order- flippant remarks that ignited the Master’s temper and idle insults that made bile rise in the Doctor’s throat, and when had they gotten so good at hurting each other without even trying? -we’ve always been, you old fool- he cut off his thoughts abruptly.

“My head is not fragile...” a fair amount of evidence -neural implosions, and unexpected right hooks in 1953, and that one time on the Frellis asteroid with its numerous sinkholes- to the contrary.

“The Antichrist? Really? Did you get on well, then?” The Doctor looked more skeptical about Lucifer, but not at all about the angel bit.