"What can I say, I'm a little rusty these days," he remarked sarcastically, not realising he had a part to this dance. Usually he assumed he was just meant to ignore or belittle the Doctors request. Like he would ever be able to co-exist in a TARDIS with the Doctor all day. Oh no, not possible,
This didn't mean to say that he hadn't thought about it but realistically, it was like communism. It sounded lovely and nice but would never work. It went against peoples natures too much, they were rivals and little could solve that.
"I'm sure you'll find another monkey to go running around the universe with," the Master pointed out, knowing the Doctor always had a back up plan. He was less prepared, he had no plan or ideas of where to go. For so long he'd followed the drums and let them inspire and drive him.
Now he was alone with silences and no purposes besides trying to one up his old friend. Perhaps he just needed to be more impulsive and wing it?
"Oh, I've got my choice of monkeys, don't I?" He gestured back down the corridor toward the mass of humanity they were leaving behind. "And a few lizards, a couple of fish, and the odd cyborg. If I wanted one of them, I'd have one." But he didn't. Not that they weren't interesting, some of them, but he was burnt out on them for the moment. The one he wanted was right beside him, and he wanted to hold on to every possible millisecond of that experience.
"Look, what do I have to do to convince you to take a turn about the universe with me?" the Doctor asked honestly, surprised even as the words came out of his mouth. What was it that this regeneration had that the last one didn't? 'Humility' didn't seem like the right word. It didn't encompass any sort of desperation or loss of dignity, but it did encompass the utter lack of pride he was feeling right about now.
What would it take? To allow the Master to be in charge, to pilot, to pick the planets, to be able to rule the planets, to destroy who he pleased... but none of that was practical and he knew all to well that he couldn't. He also knew that he was rather lost and had no other way to go about this all.
"One trip, provided I get to pick the destination and if you say anything or do anything I dislike, I leave right away," The Master warned, unable to believe he was actually suggesting this. He didn't want to, not really, but perhaps it was a good way to hitch a ride.
He wasn't a companion, he wasn't a friend, he just needed a way to get off this planet and do something new.
"Alright," the Doctor replied, hiding a grin but just barely. "Have you got a place in mind, or just looking to explore the possibilities?" He asked largely out of curiosity, though it seemed to him that the Master didn't have a TARDIS -- or at least not a functional TARDIS -- or he wouldn't have taken him up on the offer at all.
The Master TARDIS's was unfortunately still at the end of the world, where it had been crashed by that idiot Yana. Though in all fairness, he had been in a rather young form at the time, piloting was difficult when you were too short to reach most the handles.
"I have a few in mind, we'll play it by ear and I'll tell you when I'll tell you," The Master dismissed swiftly, making it rather clear that he wasn't going to play nice, he needed a lift, not a friend.
Strange as it was, the Master's tone of voice made the Doctor smile. Verbal sparring, he could deal with. It was the cold shoulder that drove him mad. "Well, if it's particularly distant from here and now, you might want to plot it in several smaller jumps. Half the TARDIS is still on emergency power. Finding replacement parts has been a particular challenge this time around."
He ducked down a smaller corridor, knowing that the Master would follow him if he were serious about hitching a ride. The TARDIS was stowed in a room about halfway down, just the same as it always was on the outside, but showing significant damage to the interior. Several of the organic supports were fractured and splinted with wooden boards or metal. The console was a mess of exposed wires and open panels. The Doctor immediately set about replacing power cells from the manual charger perched on the jump-seat, closing panels as he made his way around the hexagonal console.
Frowning, the Master peered around inside before crossing his arms and clearing his throat. "Well this is already going so well, we have a rather trashed TARDIS and someone how I get the feeling that you'll take all bloody day fixing it."
Rolling his eyes, he refused to get his hands dirty. If he wanted the TARDIS then yes, he would get involved but as the Doctor was offering him a trip, he wasn't about to do his dirty work.
"Why didn't you pick up parts instead of coming here of all places?"
"This is a space station," the Doctor replied slowly. "A space station that does, in fact, maintain daily business operations despite the massive celebration going on." He finished with the power cells, closing the last of the panels before climbing on top of it and opening the Time Rotor. It was quick business to change out the polarizers in the Rotor itself, removing the burnt remnants of the old ones and screwdrivering the new ones into place. "Also," he said conversationally as he set the Rotor to rights, "they've got the best bánh bò in light-years." He hopped down from the console, pocketing the screwdriver. "And I didn't take all bloody day, either. She's probably still a bit shaky on the dematerialization sequence, but there's so much structural damage, I can't bear to complain too much about it." He moved the power cell charger off the jump-seat and made himself comfortable, waiting.
The Master remained stoically against the wall, waiting for something stupid to happen, like it always did with the Doctor. Like a random grin or some sort of stupid rant. He was being... well, less annoying.
Which in theory was a good thing but even a oddly normal Doctor annoyed the living hell into him.
"A space station is an asset, a space station with a party is your kind of thing."
Only the Doctor would come for the fun side, not because it was in anyway needed.
The Doctor shrugged. "I got the parts I needed, and I got to relax a little. I might've stayed a little bit longer, but I wasn't feeling up to all the revelry. It's all been a bit boring lately." Well, boring wasn't the word for it. Lackluster might've been a better choice. But he wasn't going to correct himself, tempted though he was to launch into a soliloquy. He was prepared to rein himself in quite a bit to keep the peace.
Inside his head, the TARDIS was protesting vehemently against the Master's presence. The Doctor did all he could to reassure her that it was alright, but he knew that she would be unhappy until the Master himself began to win back her trust. Not that she wouldn't still fly for him -- her sentience was limited and she had little choice in the matter, especially since her pilot was allowing it.
He gestured to the console. "So, where to?" he asked the Master.
The Master had no intent to make it up to the TARDIS, he intended to try it again if he got half the chance. He could use harvesting some of the parts and perhaps attempting to recreate his own once more. If he could break out of a time lock then making a TARDIS was a piece of cake.
Eyeing up the console, then the Doctor, then looking back at the console, the Master frowned. This was not right, since when was he offered free reign in the bloody TARDIS? This wasn't right, they were supposed to argue, squabble then the Doctor got all weepy and annoying when he rejected him.
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This didn't mean to say that he hadn't thought about it but realistically, it was like communism. It sounded lovely and nice but would never work. It went against peoples natures too much, they were rivals and little could solve that.
"I'm sure you'll find another monkey to go running around the universe with," the Master pointed out, knowing the Doctor always had a back up plan. He was less prepared, he had no plan or ideas of where to go. For so long he'd followed the drums and let them inspire and drive him.
Now he was alone with silences and no purposes besides trying to one up his old friend. Perhaps he just needed to be more impulsive and wing it?
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"Look, what do I have to do to convince you to take a turn about the universe with me?" the Doctor asked honestly, surprised even as the words came out of his mouth. What was it that this regeneration had that the last one didn't? 'Humility' didn't seem like the right word. It didn't encompass any sort of desperation or loss of dignity, but it did encompass the utter lack of pride he was feeling right about now.
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"One trip, provided I get to pick the destination and if you say anything or do anything I dislike, I leave right away," The Master warned, unable to believe he was actually suggesting this. He didn't want to, not really, but perhaps it was a good way to hitch a ride.
He wasn't a companion, he wasn't a friend, he just needed a way to get off this planet and do something new.
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"I have a few in mind, we'll play it by ear and I'll tell you when I'll tell you," The Master dismissed swiftly, making it rather clear that he wasn't going to play nice, he needed a lift, not a friend.
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He ducked down a smaller corridor, knowing that the Master would follow him if he were serious about hitching a ride. The TARDIS was stowed in a room about halfway down, just the same as it always was on the outside, but showing significant damage to the interior. Several of the organic supports were fractured and splinted with wooden boards or metal. The console was a mess of exposed wires and open panels. The Doctor immediately set about replacing power cells from the manual charger perched on the jump-seat, closing panels as he made his way around the hexagonal console.
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Rolling his eyes, he refused to get his hands dirty. If he wanted the TARDIS then yes, he would get involved but as the Doctor was offering him a trip, he wasn't about to do his dirty work.
"Why didn't you pick up parts instead of coming here of all places?"
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Which in theory was a good thing but even a oddly normal Doctor annoyed the living hell into him.
"A space station is an asset, a space station with a party is your kind of thing."
Only the Doctor would come for the fun side, not because it was in anyway needed.
Reply
Inside his head, the TARDIS was protesting vehemently against the Master's presence. The Doctor did all he could to reassure her that it was alright, but he knew that she would be unhappy until the Master himself began to win back her trust. Not that she wouldn't still fly for him -- her sentience was limited and she had little choice in the matter, especially since her pilot was allowing it.
He gestured to the console. "So, where to?" he asked the Master.
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Eyeing up the console, then the Doctor, then looking back at the console, the Master frowned. This was not right, since when was he offered free reign in the bloody TARDIS? This wasn't right, they were supposed to argue, squabble then the Doctor got all weepy and annoying when he rejected him.
Changing the dance they did wasn't what he liked.
"Stop it. Just stop it, now."
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