Meet Me on the Corner Chpater 5/?
Title: Meet Me on the Corner
Chapter: 5/?
A/N: I don't own. This chapter has multiple view points unlike the previous chapters. This will be ongoing as characters who are not necassarily in the same place become important. It starts with Rose and ends with the Master. Also I'm not giving anymore info cause I'm tired and I don't feel like it. :) I'll cross post this tomorrow probably. Going to bed now though.
*
In hindsight, wearing clothes from her personal wardrobe might not have been a good idea before dropping in on 1973. Rose looked at herself critically in a shop window with a sigh: charcoal-grey pinstripe trousers, a white T-shirt with Roxy Music printed across it in faded hot pink, a brown leather waist-cut jacket, a pair of pink converse low-top plimsolls and pink elbow-high knitted wrist warmers. Aside from tribute to the 70’s T-shirt she was pretty sure she would not fit in with the locals. Thankfully she had her Torchwood ID and she was positive that Torchwood, although it was decidedly more secretive, was well-known by the local authorities in 1973. The Master had said go in early winter. That’s how she ended up standing on Wilbraham Rd. trying to figure out where she landed through a thick wall of sleet. Manchester in 1973 looked drastically different then the Manchester she had just been in and she always found travelling with the vortex manipulator a bit taxing physically.
She wandered into a small shop that apparently sold records, Vinyl Heaven, and asked directions. They said the station was just around the corner and a few blocks. The nice hippie looking bloke even told her she should have on a thicker coat. She told him as politely as she could through chattering teeth that she would manage.
As she walked down the street the sleet stopped and dulled to a grey pattering rain that soaked her to the bone, inside and out. It also wasn’t looking good to her already battered jacket. Rose saw the station looming ahead and sighed, it was now or never. Rose figured she could still walk away than, she could decide not test the Master, she could trust him. That way she wouldn’t have to know if he was lying, honestly though after Torchwood she had lost that trust in people and aliens. She was just nervous that she had left Martha in danger with little to no explanation, that maybe this Master was a body snatcher like Cassandra or worse. Some species she’d seen snatched bodies regularly to expand their life cycles, and not just human ones, all sorts. They made a habit of it.
Rose flung open the doors, or would have if they hadn’t been so heavy, and marched to the front desk. She had to know. She was involved and deep down she wanted Sam to be in the station. She wanted to have a bit of a chat with him over a hot tea and call it a day. Go back to the Master and start anew. Walk away from Torchwood and to the stars. She missed the thrum of the TARDIS and the pounding of the vortex in her ears.
She longed for the steady beat of time.
“What do you need, then?” A woman, a WPC it looked like, Phyllis, sat behind the high desk on an even higher chair. Rose held up a finger and began to dig around her jacket for her purse. She finally pulled it out and flipped it open to expose her Torchwood ID.
“Torchwood, I’m looking for Sam Tyler.” Phyllis bent forward and examined the ID before nodding.
“Rose Tyler…are you related to-?”
“Tyler is a very common name ma’am.” Rose rolled her eyes as Phyllis glanced down at the paperwork in front of her.
The smell of cigarette smoke permeated the hall and she could see that the yellow walls hadn’t always been that color. Although she was rather fond of the older lightening, fluorescents always washed her out- made her look like a dead body.
“Right then, he should be in CID, I’ll have someone escort you then,” Phyllis got up from her chair, “just a tick!” She disappeared down the hall and reappeared only a second later with another woman in a fitted tan skirt, a striped oxford and green sweater vest. Rose silently admired the non-uniformed woman for working CID in such a smart outfit. She knew this woman to be Annie. She’d read thoroughly the transcripts from Sam’s tapes and knew the only non-uniformed woman in the whole station was-
“Annie Cartwright.” The woman extended her hand. “You’re Rose?” Rose smiled feebly, remembering how she must look like a drowned rat and nodded.
“That’s me. Sorry I’m tracking water, bit wet outside.” Annie laughed and began walking down the corridor.
“I noticed. Why aren’t you wearing a proper coat then? You’ll catch your death out there in that jacket. Sam’s only wearing his leather jacket as well. You’re sure you’re not his sister or something?” Rose could tell by the laughing smile that Annie didn’t actually think so but she didn’t have much time to think about it past her own shaking head because they had just walked directly into CID.
In 2008 that would never happen. The locals hated Torchwood, they would never just let them prance right in with a quick flash of the badge and lead them into CID. She was also taken aback with the state of the place. Men with their feet propped on their desks, stakes of folders littering all of the available space and a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the whole room-not to mention they were all staring at her. Well, her and Annie, who was standing beside her with a comforting hand on Rose’s arm.
One of the men who had been leaning on a desk rather than sitting had turned and Rose instantly recognized him from the pictures on the case file. Sam Tyler. She could have jumped for joy, she could have taking a running leap towards him and given him a bear hug, she could have kissed him but she didn’t. Instead she split a wide smile and walked straight up to him. Annie, she noticed, right on her tail.
“Sam Tyler,” she extended a hand that he grasped, albeit awkwardly in return, “Rose Tyler-Field Agent- Team Leader-Torchwood. I’ve come to discuss some pressing matters with you if I could.” He looked shocked, his hand went limp and his mouth opened slightly. Before he could answer another man had walked up.
“Well, Hello flash knickers, what’ve you brought us now? Another plonk from the woman’s department, I think one is enough thank you very much.” The man speaking to Annie saddled up next to Sam and stared down at Rose.
“DCI Hunt. Can we help you?” Rose didn’t need the introduction; she knew that this could only be Sam’s superior.
“Yes DCI you can, I need to borrow your DI for a few hours, that’s all.” She smiled broadly.
“And who are you?” At least Hunt looked intrigued. That was what she had been going for, confidence.
“I’m Rose Tyler-Torchwood, Field Agent and Team Leader.” Honestly, was anyone else going to ask her?
“Since when did Torchwood start hiring female Team Leaders?”
“Better me then some girlie, french-bender, dorothy with a cock but no brains, sir.” Gene Hunt nodded stoically but she could see his lip quirk in amusement. Sam, Annie and Chris (she thought) were visibly smiling and Ray (she thought) had fallen backwards off of his propped up chair.
“Too right. Alright, Tyler enjoy your day off.” Sam nodded and grabbed his coat of the pole beside his desk. Rose only just heard Annie whisper, ‘not too much’ to Sam before she sashayed to her own desk. Sam was smiling predatorily in Annie’s direction and Rose vaguely wondered if the Master would ever look in her direction like that before pushing the stray thought roughly away.
The Master was her charge, in her care, and could be potentially dangerous (although thus far he appeared to have been telling the truth about Sam). He was not her new Doctor or her personal Time Lord. She would have to remember that.
-----
Always the women.
He’d said that, clearly remembered saying that to the Doctor as he died after his wayward wife saw fit to dispatch of him. Well, he thought he was dying anyway. And now this. In a body that is his body and simultaneously is not his body and happens to be in an alternate universe. Add to that Rose Tyler (the Doctors lost companion, which the Master found both amusing and ironic) showing up to wake him with a well placed cup of tea and the Vortex streaming through her veins and you have one too many coincidences.
The Master sighed.
After all of his lives and all of his adventures: stealing Tremas’ body to survive, the Axons, the Autons, the Daleks and Orligs, then being reborn for the Time War and then getting himself stuck in the year 100 trillion, then being Prime Minister and even being married- now the Master found nothing shocking. But this, this scenario was too good to be true. Rose Tyler, the infamous Bad Wolf of the Doctors deepest, darkest fantasies here-with the Doctor’s best enemy! It was lovely. He grinned widely, letting his face relax as his fingers tapped against the side of the trunk he was looking through. Truly, the Doctor would think less of him if he didn’t use it to his full advantage. What to do though, that was the question.
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.
He would have to get to work on a screwdriver; laser preferably, although sonic had its advantages he had to admit. He sifted through bits and pieces and was assembling them frantically while Martha paced and checked the clock. He noticed her fiddle with the radio he’d found and was slightly irked that she’d lowered the volume but ignored it.
“Sam.”
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.
“Sam?”
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.
“Master?”
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.
“Yes, Martha?” She was hunched over his shoulder and he found it oddly exhilarating that Martha Jones, his nemesis’ new play thing was so obviously oblivious to his hatred of her.
“What are you doing?” He looked briefly at the bits of dismembered and reassembled machinery in his hands and in front of him with a smile.
“I’m building myself a laser screwdriver. Look closely at this bit right here, very dangerous that.” He pointed the tip were a small hole was placed at Martha’s face. “I’m going to need a better power source, no problem though is it? You’ll get it for me in a tick won’t you?”
Martha narrowed her eyes. He could see her calculating what her reaction should be. She seemed to decide he was harmless as she smiled. She was probably attributing his antics to some split personality or grand delusion. That suited him just fine.
“Well that depends, Sam, what is it you want?” He raised an eyebrow in irritation and lowered the screwdriver and looking directly into her eyes. He noticed that her dark eyes held no specks of gold the way Rose’s did. Although, he had to admit Martha’s eyes weren’t bad in so far as human eyes went. The Doctor did know how to pick them, if you had your hearts set on a human companion anyway.
“It’s a secret. Come closer.” Martha leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Closer.” She was staring intently, fixatedly back at him. Their noses were almost touching and he nearly retched at the proximity of her, the smell of human pressing against him. She was curious and agitated and disbelieving all at once. He could smell it. Pushing the bile down he pressed his mind outward and felt the soft, pliant barrier of her consciousness give way. “Martha Jones.”
“Yes?”
“I am not Sam Tyler.”
“No.”
“I am the Master-you will obey me.” Martha’s eyes glazed over and the Master felt his lip curl in satisfaction, though he did try to suppress it, a little.
“Yes.
Martha nodded after he gave her the instructions and she was on her way. He almost missed her. The thing was, humans are lovely creatures. But they are best observed from a far or used for some sort of purpose. They are apes well and truly and as such should not be allowed to roam free, in the Master’s mind. He did admit however that there were some exceptions. He was rather fond of their music: Pop, electro, punk and rock, etc. He couldn’t get enough of it.
And then there were people like Sam Tyler. More highly evolved and therefore above their ape relatives and Rose Tyler (oddly both Tyler’s, he wondered at this before deciding to return to the topic at a later date, Tyler was a very common name after all) who could hold all of time and space in her evolved mind for long enough to destroy whole fleets of Daleks and save her so-called precious Doctor. Not to mention holding on to a piece of it for the last couple of years without so much as a headache to show for it. The raw power he felt strumming in her magnetic field was outstanding. How had the Doctor not put it to good use? He hadn’t even acknowledged it when he had spoken to the Master about Rose. Or rather, as the Master forced it out of him with a series of painful forays into the Doctor’s fragile psyche.
He huffed. The Doctor had managed to hide what a vast weapon Rose held, Rose was. That was infuriating. He cursed himself for not having dug deeper. Oh well. He’ll get his chance. He just needs Rose to get him into Torchwood. He had a feeling the equipment that was necessary to make a decent void ship was only going to be found there. Unfortunately controlling Rose was going to be more difficult than Martha. In fact it was probably impossible considering how accustom to vortex power she was. The Bad Wolf surely was shielding her mind from any sort of intrusion he could attempt. No, he would have to use charm plain and simple. He didn’t mind this though; he rather liked the Doctor’s last infamous ‘companion.’ And he had a feeling she rather liked him as well.
He would still need a plan however. Martha returned with the set of keys he had asked for and the names and positions of all the staff on radiology. The Master smiled and patted her head.
“Good. Now sit Martha Jones. And stay. If Rose returns do not speak of this. Tell her where I am and nothing else.”
She nodded fervently and sat down in the chair opposite the bed, her back stiff against the back of the chair and her eyes focused on the wall above the steel bars of his bed frame.
“And act natural for Rassilon’s sake!” He saw Martha slouch easily and pick up a magazine from the side table as he headed out to radiology.