oncoming_storms: 71.3 - Imprisoned In A Small Cell
"You can't go in there."
"What?"
"You're not allowed in there, sir."
"Yeah, well you and what arm - oh."
"Me and this army, sir."
He looked around at the dozen or so men. He sniffed, then bounced a little on his toes.
"Yeah, well, that's quite an army mate, but -"
The soldiers looked at him expectantly, then one after another picked up their guns pointing them at him. He laughed at the sight, it reminded him of a line of those can-can type dancers. He instantly regretted laughing as their faces seemed to show the slightest sign of annoyance which they all tried to school.
"Sir, we will not ask you again."
"Oh, that would be brilliant, absolutely brilliant. It is getting a bit annoying all this 'step back, step away, you're not allowed' nonsense. I'm sure it's getting tiring for you lot, too."
The soldier he had been trying to get past since the beginning stared at him. He wasn't even attempting to control his reaction at this point, nothing but genuine glaring now.
"We were warned - "
"Oh! You were warned! Really? Oh, now that is brilliant!"
He absolutely beamed at them all, bouncing a little more, this time more out of excitement and joy than any sort of anxiety.
The soldier sent him one more look before nodding to three of the other soldiers.
The human Doctor backed away, his hands patting the air.
"All right then, I'm sure -" he stopped, his eyes moving between the nearest escape and the door he had worked so hard to get near.
"I'm sure...I'm sure -"
And then he went and did it, going towards the one soldier with a headdbutt. That was his first mistake. Luckily it wasn't his last. But his first mistake was thinking it was a good idea to go against one man who had about sixty pounds and a couple inches at least on him.
Still he felt quite proud when he decked the one soldier. Mind you he was the smaller one, but still, he was much larger than the human Doctor.
The next thing he knew he was in a cell of some sort, but not the kind with bars. This one had a door, and a small window at the top of the door. He could hear something somewhere. A television, it had to be, he could see the soft glow of it from somewhere in the room.
"Bloody hell," he mumbled, sitting up.
He looked around the cell. He was about to just straight away make his way to the door when he heard a familiar chuckle at something on the television.
He stared at Camberwick Green for a moment, not quite looking over yet to see who was watching. He all ready knew really. He wanted to rub the back of his head, it was aching, but that proved rather difficult with the handcuffs he was wearing.
"I see you still haven't taken my advice."
He looked over, finally locking eyes with the Master. He gave the Master a blank look.
"Oh you know, what you need right now is a -," the Master looked at him, making a face, "never mind. If I have to explain it's not nearly worth it. Then again, I'm sure there will be a great deal of explaining. Human minds are very limited in comprehension."
He didn't say anything as he struggled with the handcuffs, which he knew was pointless, but still he had to have something to struggle against.
"My dear Doctor, if you want to be free, all you have to do is ask."
He sent him a glare, then stopped struggling.
The Master looked at him then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
He went back to watching his program, laughing at something on the show again.
After a minute or two the Master looked over at him again.
"Perhaps this might be too sophisticated for you."
He switched through the channels finally landing on a news program.
"This might be more along your -" he stopped, beaming as his image filled the screen, "oh! Look, it's me! I'm on telly"
He stared at the image on the screen, some sort of profile or polling or such, the Master's image next to a very unflattering photo of Harriet Jones.
"They say I will be the next President of Great Britain. It's good, isn't it?"
"If they knew what you were."
"He speaks! I was afraid it would be another year of the silent treatment."
"Another year - you're the one from, you're the same one."
"Well of course, you didn't really think there could be more than one of me. Oh, now I'm offended."
"How did you -"
"Now, now, you don't expect me to give away everything so soon, do you?"
He looked at the Master, then stared at the television screen.
"But you. I know I've accused you of going native in the past. But this, this is ridiculous."
He looked over, surprised to find the Master sitting right beside him now. A hand had creeped up on his chest.
"I could tell Torchwood, one word and -"
"You could, but you haven't, which means you won't."
He looked down at the hand on his chest still, then up towards the Master.
"One heart. That's -"
"-disgusting," he finished the sentence for the Master.
The Master looked at him, tilting his head. He was about to say something when the door opened.
"Mr. Saxon, sir, your car is waiting."
He looked at the human Doctor, and grinned.
"What can I say? My public is very demanding."
The Master's hand moved away from his chest snaking around behind his back, out of view of the guard who had come in. He wasn't sure what was happening, until he could feel the handcuffs release.
"You're not much good locked away, now are you," the Master whispered in his ear, "where's the fun in that?"
The Master stood up, smiling at him again.
"We'll see each other again soon enough, I'm sure," he announced loudly enough for the guard to hear this time. "Until then."
The human Doctor knew enough to keep his hands behind his back until the guard was away, the next one to come probably wouldn't be nearly as big, and with Saxon leaving, the guard detail would not be nearly as large.
He watched the Master leave, and leaned back against the wall, staring at Harold Saxon's image still on the television. Now it was just a matter of waiting, waiting until the opportunity arose to escape. More importantly, waiting for the opportunity to track down the Master again.
((ooc: written for savagestime and long overdue as a continuation of this))
"What?"
"You're not allowed in there, sir."
"Yeah, well you and what arm - oh."
"Me and this army, sir."
He looked around at the dozen or so men. He sniffed, then bounced a little on his toes.
"Yeah, well, that's quite an army mate, but -"
The soldiers looked at him expectantly, then one after another picked up their guns pointing them at him. He laughed at the sight, it reminded him of a line of those can-can type dancers. He instantly regretted laughing as their faces seemed to show the slightest sign of annoyance which they all tried to school.
"Sir, we will not ask you again."
"Oh, that would be brilliant, absolutely brilliant. It is getting a bit annoying all this 'step back, step away, you're not allowed' nonsense. I'm sure it's getting tiring for you lot, too."
The soldier he had been trying to get past since the beginning stared at him. He wasn't even attempting to control his reaction at this point, nothing but genuine glaring now.
"We were warned - "
"Oh! You were warned! Really? Oh, now that is brilliant!"
He absolutely beamed at them all, bouncing a little more, this time more out of excitement and joy than any sort of anxiety.
The soldier sent him one more look before nodding to three of the other soldiers.
The human Doctor backed away, his hands patting the air.
"All right then, I'm sure -" he stopped, his eyes moving between the nearest escape and the door he had worked so hard to get near.
"I'm sure...I'm sure -"
And then he went and did it, going towards the one soldier with a headdbutt. That was his first mistake. Luckily it wasn't his last. But his first mistake was thinking it was a good idea to go against one man who had about sixty pounds and a couple inches at least on him.
Still he felt quite proud when he decked the one soldier. Mind you he was the smaller one, but still, he was much larger than the human Doctor.
The next thing he knew he was in a cell of some sort, but not the kind with bars. This one had a door, and a small window at the top of the door. He could hear something somewhere. A television, it had to be, he could see the soft glow of it from somewhere in the room.
"Bloody hell," he mumbled, sitting up.
He looked around the cell. He was about to just straight away make his way to the door when he heard a familiar chuckle at something on the television.
He stared at Camberwick Green for a moment, not quite looking over yet to see who was watching. He all ready knew really. He wanted to rub the back of his head, it was aching, but that proved rather difficult with the handcuffs he was wearing.
"I see you still haven't taken my advice."
He looked over, finally locking eyes with the Master. He gave the Master a blank look.
"Oh you know, what you need right now is a -," the Master looked at him, making a face, "never mind. If I have to explain it's not nearly worth it. Then again, I'm sure there will be a great deal of explaining. Human minds are very limited in comprehension."
He didn't say anything as he struggled with the handcuffs, which he knew was pointless, but still he had to have something to struggle against.
"My dear Doctor, if you want to be free, all you have to do is ask."
He sent him a glare, then stopped struggling.
The Master looked at him then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
He went back to watching his program, laughing at something on the show again.
After a minute or two the Master looked over at him again.
"Perhaps this might be too sophisticated for you."
He switched through the channels finally landing on a news program.
"This might be more along your -" he stopped, beaming as his image filled the screen, "oh! Look, it's me! I'm on telly"
He stared at the image on the screen, some sort of profile or polling or such, the Master's image next to a very unflattering photo of Harriet Jones.
"They say I will be the next President of Great Britain. It's good, isn't it?"
"If they knew what you were."
"He speaks! I was afraid it would be another year of the silent treatment."
"Another year - you're the one from, you're the same one."
"Well of course, you didn't really think there could be more than one of me. Oh, now I'm offended."
"How did you -"
"Now, now, you don't expect me to give away everything so soon, do you?"
He looked at the Master, then stared at the television screen.
"But you. I know I've accused you of going native in the past. But this, this is ridiculous."
He looked over, surprised to find the Master sitting right beside him now. A hand had creeped up on his chest.
"I could tell Torchwood, one word and -"
"You could, but you haven't, which means you won't."
He looked down at the hand on his chest still, then up towards the Master.
"One heart. That's -"
"-disgusting," he finished the sentence for the Master.
The Master looked at him, tilting his head. He was about to say something when the door opened.
"Mr. Saxon, sir, your car is waiting."
He looked at the human Doctor, and grinned.
"What can I say? My public is very demanding."
The Master's hand moved away from his chest snaking around behind his back, out of view of the guard who had come in. He wasn't sure what was happening, until he could feel the handcuffs release.
"You're not much good locked away, now are you," the Master whispered in his ear, "where's the fun in that?"
The Master stood up, smiling at him again.
"We'll see each other again soon enough, I'm sure," he announced loudly enough for the guard to hear this time. "Until then."
The human Doctor knew enough to keep his hands behind his back until the guard was away, the next one to come probably wouldn't be nearly as big, and with Saxon leaving, the guard detail would not be nearly as large.
He watched the Master leave, and leaned back against the wall, staring at Harold Saxon's image still on the television. Now it was just a matter of waiting, waiting until the opportunity arose to escape. More importantly, waiting for the opportunity to track down the Master again.
((ooc: written for savagestime and long overdue as a continuation of this))