Christmas Ficathon: Day 8
Title: Games
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Simm!Master
Rating: PG-13 (mild slash, drug usage)
Word Count: 322
Summary: The Doctor & the Master enjoy some cookies. Sort of AU - the Doctor & the Master are traveling together for one reason or another. It's crack, I didn't put much thought into the whys or hows.
For morriganangelus , who gave me this insane prompt.
“You would think,” the Doctor mused, licking an errant smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth, “that someone who is as paranoid about everything that passes his lips as you are would think to ask what was in those cookies before buying them.”
The Master was busy methodically picking cookie crumbs off his tie and didn’t look up. “Now why would that thought cross my mind? They were only cookies.”
“You bought them in a café.”
“How very observant, Doctor. What’s your point?”
“In Amsterdam.”
The Master held up his hands, eyes wide with a perfect look of childlike innocence. “I was hungry. Your TARDIS will not give up the location of the kitchen. My thoughts were on my poor stomach, not whether or not I’d drug us both for a lark. There’s nothing for it now. We’ll simply have to wait it out. Another round of Operation, or would you prefer Twister this time?”
The Doctor’s eyes narrowed at his companion. “You did this on purpose.”
The Master beamed. “Perhaps.” The Doctor sniffed, avoiding his eye and shoving his hands into his pockets. The Master’s lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. “Oh come now, Doctor. You can’t be angry with me. It’s only a little grass.”
The corner of the Doctor’s mouth began to twitch. “Jo used to call it that.”
“Did she?” The Master was barely containing his amusement. “This isn’t your first time, then?”
“It’s been many regenerations.”
“All the more reason to enjoy yourself. I could put on the leather gloves again.”
The Doctor pouted, a final attempt at resistance that caused the Master to raise an eyebrow.
“Really, Doctor. You carried that expression much better in your fifth incarnation.”
The Doctor bounced on his heels, a slow smile growing. He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve still got the cricket stuff in the wardrobe.”
The Master smirked. They would definitely be visiting Amsterdam more often.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Simm!Master
Rating: PG-13 (mild slash, drug usage)
Word Count: 322
Summary: The Doctor & the Master enjoy some cookies. Sort of AU - the Doctor & the Master are traveling together for one reason or another. It's crack, I didn't put much thought into the whys or hows.
For morriganangelus , who gave me this insane prompt.
“You would think,” the Doctor mused, licking an errant smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth, “that someone who is as paranoid about everything that passes his lips as you are would think to ask what was in those cookies before buying them.”
The Master was busy methodically picking cookie crumbs off his tie and didn’t look up. “Now why would that thought cross my mind? They were only cookies.”
“You bought them in a café.”
“How very observant, Doctor. What’s your point?”
“In Amsterdam.”
The Master held up his hands, eyes wide with a perfect look of childlike innocence. “I was hungry. Your TARDIS will not give up the location of the kitchen. My thoughts were on my poor stomach, not whether or not I’d drug us both for a lark. There’s nothing for it now. We’ll simply have to wait it out. Another round of Operation, or would you prefer Twister this time?”
The Doctor’s eyes narrowed at his companion. “You did this on purpose.”
The Master beamed. “Perhaps.” The Doctor sniffed, avoiding his eye and shoving his hands into his pockets. The Master’s lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. “Oh come now, Doctor. You can’t be angry with me. It’s only a little grass.”
The corner of the Doctor’s mouth began to twitch. “Jo used to call it that.”
“Did she?” The Master was barely containing his amusement. “This isn’t your first time, then?”
“It’s been many regenerations.”
“All the more reason to enjoy yourself. I could put on the leather gloves again.”
The Doctor pouted, a final attempt at resistance that caused the Master to raise an eyebrow.
“Really, Doctor. You carried that expression much better in your fifth incarnation.”
The Doctor bounced on his heels, a slow smile growing. He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve still got the cricket stuff in the wardrobe.”
The Master smirked. They would definitely be visiting Amsterdam more often.