TW/DW Crossover Fic: Offer and Acceptance
Title: Offer and Acceptance
Author: Evilawyer
Rating: PG-13
Fandoms: Torchwood, Doctor Who
Characters: Capt. John Hart, the Master
Time Frame: Pre-Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang, During-The Sound of Drums
Disclaimer: The characters are the intellectual property of the BBC and/others who are not the person who wrote this fic. No violation of US or international copyright law or trademarks is intended, and no monetary profit is being made by the person who wrote this fic.
Author's Note: Written because of the “positive and/negative” prompt at LJ'stw_dw_slashfest . Not very slashy, but the hint is there. Word count is 650.0
“Drink, 'Captain' Hart?”
“Always.” Hart accepted the drink from the Prime Minister's hand. “You said you had a business proposal for me, Saxon.”
“Oh, no need for pretense. Not between us. You should call me Master.”
“And you should have your bloody head examined. Cheers.” He swallowed his drink down. “What's the job?”
The Master sat down in one of the two arm chairs in the room and motioned for Hart to sit in the other one. “I thought it was time for us to finally meet. I've heard so much about you, about your...talents, shall we say?
“And I'm sure you'd like to see me in action, but you're not my type.” Hart sat down on the edge of the Master's large mahogany desk. You said you had a job for me. What is it?”
“What would you say if I told you I'm about to give you a chance to get everything you've always wanted?”
“Sex, money, drugs and sex?” Hart studied the ceiling in mock contemplation. “Been there, done that. And I'll do it again, with no need for your help, thank you.”
“Jack Harkness.”
Hart sobered. “What about him.”
“When I'm done with him, you can have him.”
Hart shook his head in invitation to further explanation. “And I'd want your sloppy seconds because...?
“Because you want him. You always have. Oh, you talk a good game, Hart. You have everyone believing that you really think one hole is as good as another and that you're always up for getting filled by any long...”
Hart stood from the desk. “I'm very close to losing my patience, Saxon, and I'm not a patient man to begin with.”
“Oh, come on. Don't be like that. Sit down.” The Master paused until Hart sat again. “You were with him for five years.”
“Your point?”
The Master leaned forward. “I know what's it's like. To be that close to someone. To watch him give his time and his attention to every passing stranger and never to you, not once.”
“Sounds like the great and powerful Saxon's got a little man-crush on someone,” Hart snorted. “Sure you're not projecting?”
The Master sat back in his chair. “You tell yourself it was only ever sex, but it was more than that and you know it. Without him, you're nothing.” The Master paused. When Hart merely stared at the air in front of him, a small, cruel smirk crossed the Master's face. “He's the light to your dark, the positive to your negative. You define each other but he'll never see it. How could you not want to change that?”
Hart's blank-eyed stare shifted into focus. “How much do you plan on using him?”
The Master's smirk shifted into a cheerful smile. “A great deal, I should think. But nothing that will leave any permanent damage.”
“I want to be paid, too. In money.”
The Master winced in mock disgust. “So crass! Tell you what. I'll give you half of what I want you to steal is worth.”
“And that's...?”
“Something that will focus enough energy to power my rockets through the Cardiff Rift.” The Master frowned. “Rockets. How boring. I do so wish 'weapons of mass destruction' hadn't already been used.”
Hart was unimpressed. “In other words, a big fat diamond.”
“Yes. A big fat diamond --- half of a big fat diamond, at any rate --- and Handsome Jack. When, as I say, I'm done with him. Deal?”
Hart could think of a hundred different ways he could steal the diamond from the Master. Jack would like that.
A big fat diamond and Jack Harkness. His very own positive. He'd like that. “You have a deal.”
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