Disturbing the Peace (DW fic)
This is a response to a prompt over on the best_enemies community kinkmeme.
11th Doctor arrested in London for disturbing the peace. The Master is his one phone call. Why?
Disturbing the Peace
Rating: G
Characters: Doctor, Master, Amy, Rory
Words: 4,360
Disclaimer: This story is for fun. I don't own rights to Doctor Who.
He was just putting his feet up and nestling back into his squishy armchair after a long day of campaigning when he got the call. His mobile was sitting on the coffee table, which at the present moment seemed much too far away. And his hands were already preoccupied with a steaming cup of cocoa, one of the few things humans seemed to have going for them.
There was something else about humans that niggled at the back of his mind as he stared dispassionately at the ringing phone. Something they liked to say... something about killing a cat. Or a dog. Maybe a horse.
No, that couldn’t be it.
No matter. He was far smarter than a domesticated pet, and therefore curiosity was hardly a threat. He put down the cocoa and leaned out of his upholstered nest to snag the phone. There was no need to answer it if it was some unimportant nobody. He checked.
Ah. The Police. No quite unimportant. And not quite nobody. Why they would be calling him just after midnight he had no idea. He sighed and pushed the green button.
“Saxon.”
“Ah, there you are,” an unfamiliar voice on the other end let out a breath of relief. “I wasn’t exactly sure of the number. Look, I ran into a little trouble. I believe the charge is disturbing the peace. But I had a very good reason for lighting those fireworks and it was all perfectly under control until those Japanese tourists panicked. So, do you think you could pop down and bail me out?”
“Uhh....” he pretended to think about it. “No.”
He was about to hang up and return to the cocoa which by now was probably getting cold.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t you dare hang up!” the voice shouted frantically. “We’re all in peril! The earth’s in danger!”
Well that certainly was true. But he didn’t need to be told that. HE was the one putting the earth in danger. World domination and destruction was taking a little longer than originally planned, but once all this dreary campaigning and baby kissing was over he could get onto the fun part. Obviously some kind of nutcase had gotten hold of his phone number and decided to interrupt his very important cocoa time. When he was the Ruler of All he’d make sure that every employee at his phone company was included in the first Wave of Death.
“Sorry, I believe you have the wrong number,” he smirked and put his finger on the end call button.
“Oh, it’s all games with you, isn’t it? Just listen for once, it’s me!” the voice sounded slightly affronted. “It’s the Doctor. Now come down to the station and get this sorted before Earth becomes a lifeless husk of a planet.”
The cocoa was forgotten. This was soooo much better. He didn’t remember the Doctor sounding like this though. Something was a little off. Hah, that made it even more fun! He settled back into his chair. “What makes you think I’m not part of the plan? Why would I be on Earth if not to destroy it?”
“Oh, I know you’ve got something cooked up on your own, but this crisis definitely isn’t you. And if we don’t hurry up then your plans will be entirely moot at any rate, because there will be no Earth left to conquer.”
He had a point. It was very bad manners of someone to suddenly pop up and interfere with his plans of destruction. He had been here first after all.
“I’ll think about it.”
“No. No time to think, you maniac! The Flibbertibunnies are invading the Earth!”
There was a long minute of silence before, “I’ll be right there.”
**********************************************************
“I’ve already put the TARDIS on isomorphic,” the Doctor told him. The Master shrugged and continued his inspection of the new control room. It was very different from the one he had stolen and hidden away. But it seemed that this Doctor was very different as well.
“I see you’ve gone for the ‘mad inventor’ look this time.”
“The TARDIS and I had a slight mishap. I let her pick the interior while she recovered.”
“Did she pick the bow-tie as well?”
The Doctor scowled at the readings the TARDIS was shooting out at him. “What? No. Look, just be quiet while I get this figured out and then, by all means, yes, we can get on with the word games and insults.” He glanced up and met the Master’s eyes, “And, by the way, bow-ties are cool.”
The Doctor was busy muttering and making faces and completely ignoring his guest, so the Master went down to play with the swing. He wasn’t sure what to make of this turn of events. He had all kinds of plans for the Doctor when the Doctor finally made it back from the end of time. By then he would hopefully be Prime Minister and the Doctor would have to watch as he took over the world. The prescence of this Doctor seemed to suggest that possibly, maybe, this might not happen as planned. The Doctor was going to survive it all obviously, and as far as the Master could tell, he wasn’t holding a grudge. Was that good or bad? He spun himself around, his feet doing a little dance on the floor until the ropes of the swing were all twisted together.
“Ah, Amy! Rory!” the Doctor suddenly shouted in greeting as two young humans entered the TARDIS with an assortment of items. The Master frowned. No Martha Jones or the Freak. Was that good or bad? He was unsure. He lifted his feet, letting the ropes unwind and not liking the way it spun him out of control. It felt a little like what the drums in his brain did to him sometimes.
The Doctor was running down to them, gathering wires and circuits from the top of the console on his way. The three of them dumped everything into a big pile on the floor and the Doctor knelt to paw through it.
“Extension cord...... screws..... 14 gauge copper wire.... Ah! Fish sticks! Amy you’re amazing!” The Doctor pulled the box out of the pile and and eagerly handed it to the human called Rory.
“I’ll just go heat these up, then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pond.”
The Master got off the swing and leaned against one of the hand rails in boredom. He watched in annoyance as the Doctor ignored him. His movements, however, caught the attention of someone else.
“Uh, Doctor,” Rory began uncertainly.
“Just a moment,” the Doctor called back distractedly.
“But, Doctor-”
“You didn’t get the heavy duty tinfoil,” the Doctor sighed.
“You didn’t tell us to,” Amy countered. “You just said tinfoil.”
“Doctor, who is-”
“He’s not going to really eat those, is he?” the Master asked, pointing a finger at the fish sticks.
“Uh...”
“Frozen, oily, over-processed bits of fish?” the Master’s face twisted in disgust. “And you wonder why the Earth needs destroying?”
“Didn’t you run for Prime Minister?”
“I AM running for Prime Minister,” the Master told him disdainfully. “You will be voting for me I assume?” He drummed his fingers on the hand rail in a steady beat.
“Hey, hey!” the Doctor jumped up. “None of that, now! Besides, the election’s over.”
“Not for me.”
“Isn’t that the crazy Prime Minister?” Amy asked.
“Shhh, Amy,” the Doctor put his fingers to his lips and said in a stage whisper, “Don’t spoiler him.”
“Well, why’d you bring him back here?” She regarded the Master warily. “He’s not crazy yet, is he?”
The Master smirked. The Doctor tried to come up with a diplomatic answer to that and failed.
“He’s here to help,” he said instead. He glanced around at them all for a moment as if suddenly realizing the potential for trouble. The Master crossed his ankles non-chalantly as he leaned against the railing. He smiled charmingly.
“Right,” the Doctor motioned his companions over to him. “Amy, Rory, let’s get those fish sticks baked up.”
“What, the three of us?” Amy asked.
“Yes,” the Doctor raised his eyebrows, “they’ll taste so much better that way.”
He grabbed the box from Rory’s hands and led them up to the TARDIS console. The Master rolled his eyes as the three time travellers huddled near the easy-bake-oven installed under the vortex capacitor. As the Doctor spoke lowly to his companions they began to shoot covert glances in the Master’s direction. He offered them a little wave before turning his back to them with a scowl. The Doctor was giving them the same old speech. Beware the Master blah blah blah. He remembered how the Doctor always seemed to stress the evil over the genius.
The dinging of the little bell on the oven interrupted whatever last bit of warning the Doctor had been giving. He was surprisingly excited about the arrival of his little crumb encrusted strips of fish. He allowed each of his companions one before gathering up the rest for himself.
“Alright, then, everyone,” the Doctor said between bites, “let’s get to work. The Flibbertibunnies are already on the move.”
“These creatures, they can’t be that bad can they?” Amy asked. She bit into her fishstick and spoke around it. “You did call them bunnies.”
“Flibbertibunnies,” the Doctor corrected.
“Well, they still don’t sound that bad.”
“Well, of course not. They’re not bad. They’re horrifying,” he waved his fishstick gravely at his companion to make his point.
“Yes, and that’s why I wonder if you really think you’re going to stop the Flibbertibunnies with some bits from a hardware store?” The Master asked disdainfully. He went over to the pile of supplies that Amy and Rory had brought in. It looked pretty useless. He poked at the copper wire with a disinterested foot.
“Of course, not,” the Doctor was quick to counter. “Those are just the safety measures. I’m going to stop them with these.”
The Master looked up to see the only other Time Lord in existence, the only other being on Earth that came even close to matching the Master’s intelligence, grinning maniacally and holding up a fish stick.
The Master groaned. The Earth was going to be destroyed before he even got the chance to do it himself.
On to Part 2
11th Doctor arrested in London for disturbing the peace. The Master is his one phone call. Why?
Disturbing the Peace
Rating: G
Characters: Doctor, Master, Amy, Rory
Words: 4,360
Disclaimer: This story is for fun. I don't own rights to Doctor Who.
He was just putting his feet up and nestling back into his squishy armchair after a long day of campaigning when he got the call. His mobile was sitting on the coffee table, which at the present moment seemed much too far away. And his hands were already preoccupied with a steaming cup of cocoa, one of the few things humans seemed to have going for them.
There was something else about humans that niggled at the back of his mind as he stared dispassionately at the ringing phone. Something they liked to say... something about killing a cat. Or a dog. Maybe a horse.
No, that couldn’t be it.
No matter. He was far smarter than a domesticated pet, and therefore curiosity was hardly a threat. He put down the cocoa and leaned out of his upholstered nest to snag the phone. There was no need to answer it if it was some unimportant nobody. He checked.
Ah. The Police. No quite unimportant. And not quite nobody. Why they would be calling him just after midnight he had no idea. He sighed and pushed the green button.
“Saxon.”
“Ah, there you are,” an unfamiliar voice on the other end let out a breath of relief. “I wasn’t exactly sure of the number. Look, I ran into a little trouble. I believe the charge is disturbing the peace. But I had a very good reason for lighting those fireworks and it was all perfectly under control until those Japanese tourists panicked. So, do you think you could pop down and bail me out?”
“Uhh....” he pretended to think about it. “No.”
He was about to hang up and return to the cocoa which by now was probably getting cold.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t you dare hang up!” the voice shouted frantically. “We’re all in peril! The earth’s in danger!”
Well that certainly was true. But he didn’t need to be told that. HE was the one putting the earth in danger. World domination and destruction was taking a little longer than originally planned, but once all this dreary campaigning and baby kissing was over he could get onto the fun part. Obviously some kind of nutcase had gotten hold of his phone number and decided to interrupt his very important cocoa time. When he was the Ruler of All he’d make sure that every employee at his phone company was included in the first Wave of Death.
“Sorry, I believe you have the wrong number,” he smirked and put his finger on the end call button.
“Oh, it’s all games with you, isn’t it? Just listen for once, it’s me!” the voice sounded slightly affronted. “It’s the Doctor. Now come down to the station and get this sorted before Earth becomes a lifeless husk of a planet.”
The cocoa was forgotten. This was soooo much better. He didn’t remember the Doctor sounding like this though. Something was a little off. Hah, that made it even more fun! He settled back into his chair. “What makes you think I’m not part of the plan? Why would I be on Earth if not to destroy it?”
“Oh, I know you’ve got something cooked up on your own, but this crisis definitely isn’t you. And if we don’t hurry up then your plans will be entirely moot at any rate, because there will be no Earth left to conquer.”
He had a point. It was very bad manners of someone to suddenly pop up and interfere with his plans of destruction. He had been here first after all.
“I’ll think about it.”
“No. No time to think, you maniac! The Flibbertibunnies are invading the Earth!”
There was a long minute of silence before, “I’ll be right there.”
**********************************************************
“I’ve already put the TARDIS on isomorphic,” the Doctor told him. The Master shrugged and continued his inspection of the new control room. It was very different from the one he had stolen and hidden away. But it seemed that this Doctor was very different as well.
“I see you’ve gone for the ‘mad inventor’ look this time.”
“The TARDIS and I had a slight mishap. I let her pick the interior while she recovered.”
“Did she pick the bow-tie as well?”
The Doctor scowled at the readings the TARDIS was shooting out at him. “What? No. Look, just be quiet while I get this figured out and then, by all means, yes, we can get on with the word games and insults.” He glanced up and met the Master’s eyes, “And, by the way, bow-ties are cool.”
The Doctor was busy muttering and making faces and completely ignoring his guest, so the Master went down to play with the swing. He wasn’t sure what to make of this turn of events. He had all kinds of plans for the Doctor when the Doctor finally made it back from the end of time. By then he would hopefully be Prime Minister and the Doctor would have to watch as he took over the world. The prescence of this Doctor seemed to suggest that possibly, maybe, this might not happen as planned. The Doctor was going to survive it all obviously, and as far as the Master could tell, he wasn’t holding a grudge. Was that good or bad? He spun himself around, his feet doing a little dance on the floor until the ropes of the swing were all twisted together.
“Ah, Amy! Rory!” the Doctor suddenly shouted in greeting as two young humans entered the TARDIS with an assortment of items. The Master frowned. No Martha Jones or the Freak. Was that good or bad? He was unsure. He lifted his feet, letting the ropes unwind and not liking the way it spun him out of control. It felt a little like what the drums in his brain did to him sometimes.
The Doctor was running down to them, gathering wires and circuits from the top of the console on his way. The three of them dumped everything into a big pile on the floor and the Doctor knelt to paw through it.
“Extension cord...... screws..... 14 gauge copper wire.... Ah! Fish sticks! Amy you’re amazing!” The Doctor pulled the box out of the pile and and eagerly handed it to the human called Rory.
“I’ll just go heat these up, then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pond.”
The Master got off the swing and leaned against one of the hand rails in boredom. He watched in annoyance as the Doctor ignored him. His movements, however, caught the attention of someone else.
“Uh, Doctor,” Rory began uncertainly.
“Just a moment,” the Doctor called back distractedly.
“But, Doctor-”
“You didn’t get the heavy duty tinfoil,” the Doctor sighed.
“You didn’t tell us to,” Amy countered. “You just said tinfoil.”
“Doctor, who is-”
“He’s not going to really eat those, is he?” the Master asked, pointing a finger at the fish sticks.
“Uh...”
“Frozen, oily, over-processed bits of fish?” the Master’s face twisted in disgust. “And you wonder why the Earth needs destroying?”
“Didn’t you run for Prime Minister?”
“I AM running for Prime Minister,” the Master told him disdainfully. “You will be voting for me I assume?” He drummed his fingers on the hand rail in a steady beat.
“Hey, hey!” the Doctor jumped up. “None of that, now! Besides, the election’s over.”
“Not for me.”
“Isn’t that the crazy Prime Minister?” Amy asked.
“Shhh, Amy,” the Doctor put his fingers to his lips and said in a stage whisper, “Don’t spoiler him.”
“Well, why’d you bring him back here?” She regarded the Master warily. “He’s not crazy yet, is he?”
The Master smirked. The Doctor tried to come up with a diplomatic answer to that and failed.
“He’s here to help,” he said instead. He glanced around at them all for a moment as if suddenly realizing the potential for trouble. The Master crossed his ankles non-chalantly as he leaned against the railing. He smiled charmingly.
“Right,” the Doctor motioned his companions over to him. “Amy, Rory, let’s get those fish sticks baked up.”
“What, the three of us?” Amy asked.
“Yes,” the Doctor raised his eyebrows, “they’ll taste so much better that way.”
He grabbed the box from Rory’s hands and led them up to the TARDIS console. The Master rolled his eyes as the three time travellers huddled near the easy-bake-oven installed under the vortex capacitor. As the Doctor spoke lowly to his companions they began to shoot covert glances in the Master’s direction. He offered them a little wave before turning his back to them with a scowl. The Doctor was giving them the same old speech. Beware the Master blah blah blah. He remembered how the Doctor always seemed to stress the evil over the genius.
The dinging of the little bell on the oven interrupted whatever last bit of warning the Doctor had been giving. He was surprisingly excited about the arrival of his little crumb encrusted strips of fish. He allowed each of his companions one before gathering up the rest for himself.
“Alright, then, everyone,” the Doctor said between bites, “let’s get to work. The Flibbertibunnies are already on the move.”
“These creatures, they can’t be that bad can they?” Amy asked. She bit into her fishstick and spoke around it. “You did call them bunnies.”
“Flibbertibunnies,” the Doctor corrected.
“Well, they still don’t sound that bad.”
“Well, of course not. They’re not bad. They’re horrifying,” he waved his fishstick gravely at his companion to make his point.
“Yes, and that’s why I wonder if you really think you’re going to stop the Flibbertibunnies with some bits from a hardware store?” The Master asked disdainfully. He went over to the pile of supplies that Amy and Rory had brought in. It looked pretty useless. He poked at the copper wire with a disinterested foot.
“Of course, not,” the Doctor was quick to counter. “Those are just the safety measures. I’m going to stop them with these.”
The Master looked up to see the only other Time Lord in existence, the only other being on Earth that came even close to matching the Master’s intelligence, grinning maniacally and holding up a fish stick.
The Master groaned. The Earth was going to be destroyed before he even got the chance to do it himself.
On to Part 2