The Master answers the door in his customary black trow and a light blue shirt, his hair still wet from the shower and sticking up where he's scrubbed at it with the towel. "Rose! Wonderful!" he says, going forward to hug her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." He's going to have to surreptitiously rake through her mind at some point...possibly a little less than surreptitiously. Breaking off from the hug, he pulls on the black jumper he's been holding in his left hand. "Are you all right now? You had a rather strong reaction, which I assume was due to some sort of curse."
"Harry!" she says with a beaming smile when she sees him at last. Her arms go around him and she's a bit calmer. But it ends as quickly as it began when he pulls away. Her gaze stays on him and she smiles. "It's okay. You had it worse." she frowns for a moment.
"But I'm better now." she reassures as something within her stirs. As long as she was near him it was good enough for her. "I think...he's jealous." It's the only way she can explain his outburst but it doesn't really matter does it? She's not sure. Maybe the Doctor wanted Harry all to himself. Yes, that was it.
"But look at you," she says watching as he puts on the jumper and staring a little longer. "I think that's a bit better than the suit."
"If you're certain," he says, infusing his face with an expression of concern. "Jealous?" He smirks. "He is giving off that impression rather strongly, isn't he?" The Doctor is really making this all so easy for him.
"Do you?" he says, looking down at himself, and then back up at Rose. "Well, it's not completely covered in blood, I'll give it that. And it would be silly to always wear a suit." He pulls at the cuffs of his shirt, straightening it, and then beckons to her. "Come in, please, don't worry, I've cleaned up."
He has, as much as he can. He's managed to get the rest of his blood out of the carpet but the back of the couch is eluding him and it looks like he's actually going to have to refurnish it. He's draped it in a blanket for the time being. At least there's another, unstained couch.
"I'll make tea," the Master decides. "Any preferred type?"
Rose laughs and then nods thinking back to how the Doctor was last night. "He is." It's almost a bit odd to her in a way. "Think he just wants you all to himself."
Again she gives him a nod with a grin. She finds this look to be refreshing and perfect for him. Makes him look a bit more dashing. "It would, wouldn't it? Still it doesn't stop some people from doing it every day." She still wonders how the Doctor manages with the same suit without the TARDIS around. At least her washer still hasn't broken down if he really has been washing the same suit constantly.
"Was starting to think Time Lords were attached to their clothes." she says walking inside his apartemt and grateful that it isn't the case at least with him and amazed that the blood stains are gone for the most part.
"Tea," she repeats liking the sound of it as she nears the couch and sits down. "Not really. Whatever you're going to have is fine." She's curious as to what he likes.
He has to stop himself from laughing at this, and tries to nod solemnly. "Oh, I'd assume so."
At her next comments, however, he actually does laugh. "He used to change his clothes more often, you know. Quite sartorially obsessed, actually. A new outfit every time I saw him. We've traded places, it seems. He does change his shirts, though, doesn't he?" Pathetic that he's noticed, really. Probably very anal of him. "I do like wearing a suit but it's not always practical."
"Very well," he says, walking over to the kitchen, open-concept, still in view. After filling the kettle with water and placing it on the stove to come to a boil, he opens a cupboard and riffles through the tea. Orange Pekoe is boring...Earl Grey even more so... He could go for something a little less common but something common is probably safest. He settles on English Breakfast, eventually, very traditional of him. Very Harold Saxon, even if he doesn't really need to keep up too much of the facade with Rose. The character is comfortable, though, so he feels like he
( ... )
"A new outfit? Really?" For her it's a bit hard to even picture. "Did he have the same face each time?" If he did, she'd really have to ask him about it the next time he slowed down a bit and she caught him. "Well yeah, and ties. And trainers." she informs thinking back on it. But always the same suit. She starts to wonder what he'd look like in something different but then the thought instantly vanishes as quickly as it started. She's not even bothered by it.
She watches him leave and then return to which she smiles at. Her back digs against the couch as she relaxes. "So, um." she begins swaying on her next choice of words. "Your hearts are still beating, right?" She's heard all sorts of terrible things about what happens when one actually dies here but she hopes that he's escaped that.
He nods. "He wasn't regenerating every time I met him." The Master looks down, his eyes going a bit distant for a moment as he remembers. "He was tall with grey curly hair. Was very fond of velvet. Then again, so was I, at the time. No accounting for taste in your youth, I suppose."
"Yes, I'm not 'undead'. Both of them are still going," says the Master, and then adds, flirting a little, "You can check if you like."
Again it's very hard for her mind to even picture. The Doctor with grey hair...Curly? Probably had wrinkles too if she guessed right. "Velvet?" She makes a face at that and then soon erupts with laughter at the mental image that suddenly pops into her head. "Reckon you two would've been very hip in the 70s."
"Can I?" she asks as her eyes light up. She really does want to so that it clears one worry and--She's up before another thought can cram through approaching the armchair slowly, reaching him and leaning down. She hesitates for a moment, her dark eyes remaining on him but then her right hand's lightly pressed against his right heart. Still beating. The same hand slides across the fabric of the jumper to go for his left heart. All the while her own beats just a little bit faster.
"I was cutting edge in the 70s, I'll have you know," the Master says, mock offended. "Though the Doctor was a century out of date, pretty much consistently every time I met him. The look he has now is...new, in more than one way."
The Master watches Rose as she places her hand on his chest, watches her face rather than looking down, his eyes amber and clear. Heartbeats mirroring the drums in his head and he likes what he's done to Rose. Probably, he could have had her here even without the mind-control but as that's his favourite part... Oh, and he still needs to repair it. Right. Most effective way, invasionwise... Her hand moves across to his left heart and he covers her hand with one of his own, putting the other one to her face. This again. The benefits of owning another person. Gently, he brings her face slightly downwards and kisses Rose.
"Oh, I'm sure," she responds flashing him a grin before she rolls her eyes. If the Doctor was that bad, he was probably worse but that didn't matter now. "It's a bit--" She tries to narrow the right word down thinking of the Doctor's pin striped suit. "Chic. Especially with his hair sticking out everywhere." His really great hair, she thinks looking a bit distant. "He wears glasses sometimes and it's just--" With as much as she wants to see him in something different she really does fancy that look on him.
When she feels his hand against her own all thoughts of the Doctor become buried. There's only him. She's completely lost for a moment staring into his eyes, feeling his fingertips against the side of her face pulling her down and then his lips against hers. It's...She doesn't pull away becoming wrapped up in the feeling and deepening the kiss as she lowers herself down even further to settle into his lap.
The Master has to smile for a moment against Rose's lips before she deepens the kiss and sits down on his lap. The kiss, as it becomes all tongues and grasping at each other, makes it very easy for him to slip into Rose's mind and do his maintenance, even as he brings his arms around her. He's always been good at multitasking. Frayed edges, loose connections...perhaps there is a part of Rose fighting against his mind-control somewhere. Can't have that. He smooths over all of the loose ends in her mind, welds together broken sections. It's strange, these malfunctions. It all feels like him to him but at the same time, something like...butterflies. He'll have to check his own mind later.
Rose shuts her eyes completely unaware of what's really going on around her and in her mind. Her fingers tighten around the fabric of his black jumper. There's almost a ticklish sensation that hits her as the kiss deepen but she's not really bothered by it. "Doc-" she half murmurs against his lips before pulling away with a gasp, her eyes fluttering open. She inhales and exhales with flushed cheeks hoping that he didn't catch that.
Can he never fully have someone?! The Doctor isn't even here and he's spoiling his fun! The Master's eyes burn with rage for about a second before he can calm himself down, at least outwardly and give her a rueful look.
"I suppose that answers that question," he says quietly, thankful that he at least finished his patch job before Rose broke off the kiss. He lets her hair run through the fingers of his left hand, as he thinks of how he wants to portray this. "It's difficult to love someone when they're incapable of any sort of commitment, isn't it?"
He is saved from having to do much more improvisation by the sound of the kettle boiling off in the kitchen. "Excuse me," he says solemnly, scooping her legs sideways off his lap and slipping out from under her. "The tea."
I'd like that.
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"Harry, it's me."
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"Rose! Wonderful!" he says, going forward to hug her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." He's going to have to surreptitiously rake through her mind at some point...possibly a little less than surreptitiously. Breaking off from the hug, he pulls on the black jumper he's been holding in his left hand. "Are you all right now? You had a rather strong reaction, which I assume was due to some sort of curse."
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"But I'm better now." she reassures as something within her stirs. As long as she was near him it was good enough for her. "I think...he's jealous." It's the only way she can explain his outburst but it doesn't really matter does it? She's not sure. Maybe the Doctor wanted Harry all to himself. Yes, that was it.
"But look at you," she says watching as he puts on the jumper and staring a little longer. "I think that's a bit better than the suit."
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"Do you?" he says, looking down at himself, and then back up at Rose. "Well, it's not completely covered in blood, I'll give it that. And it would be silly to always wear a suit." He pulls at the cuffs of his shirt, straightening it, and then beckons to her. "Come in, please, don't worry, I've cleaned up."
He has, as much as he can. He's managed to get the rest of his blood out of the carpet but the back of the couch is eluding him and it looks like he's actually going to have to refurnish it. He's draped it in a blanket for the time being. At least there's another, unstained couch.
"I'll make tea," the Master decides. "Any preferred type?"
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Again she gives him a nod with a grin. She finds this look to be refreshing and perfect for him. Makes him look a bit more dashing. "It would, wouldn't it? Still it doesn't stop some people from doing it every day." She still wonders how the Doctor manages with the same suit without the TARDIS around. At least her washer still hasn't broken down if he really has been washing the same suit constantly.
"Was starting to think Time Lords were attached to their clothes." she says walking inside his apartemt and grateful that it isn't the case at least with him and amazed that the blood stains are gone for the most part.
"Tea," she repeats liking the sound of it as she nears the couch and sits down. "Not really. Whatever you're going to have is fine." She's curious as to what he likes.
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At her next comments, however, he actually does laugh. "He used to change his clothes more often, you know. Quite sartorially obsessed, actually. A new outfit every time I saw him. We've traded places, it seems. He does change his shirts, though, doesn't he?" Pathetic that he's noticed, really. Probably very anal of him. "I do like wearing a suit but it's not always practical."
"Very well," he says, walking over to the kitchen, open-concept, still in view. After filling the kettle with water and placing it on the stove to come to a boil, he opens a cupboard and riffles through the tea. Orange Pekoe is boring...Earl Grey even more so... He could go for something a little less common but something common is probably safest. He settles on English Breakfast, eventually, very traditional of him. Very Harold Saxon, even if he doesn't really need to keep up too much of the facade with Rose. The character is comfortable, though, so he feels like he ( ... )
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She watches him leave and then return to which she smiles at. Her back digs against the couch as she relaxes. "So, um." she begins swaying on her next choice of words. "Your hearts are still beating, right?" She's heard all sorts of terrible things about what happens when one actually dies here but she hopes that he's escaped that.
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"Yes, I'm not 'undead'. Both of them are still going," says the Master, and then adds, flirting a little, "You can check if you like."
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"Can I?" she asks as her eyes light up. She really does want to so that it clears one worry and--She's up before another thought can cram through approaching the armchair slowly, reaching him and leaning down. She hesitates for a moment, her dark eyes remaining on him but then her right hand's lightly pressed against his right heart. Still beating. The same hand slides across the fabric of the jumper to go for his left heart. All the while her own beats just a little bit faster.
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The Master watches Rose as she places her hand on his chest, watches her face rather than looking down, his eyes amber and clear. Heartbeats mirroring the drums in his head and he likes what he's done to Rose. Probably, he could have had her here even without the mind-control but as that's his favourite part... Oh, and he still needs to repair it. Right. Most effective way, invasionwise...
Her hand moves across to his left heart and he covers her hand with one of his own, putting the other one to her face. This again. The benefits of owning another person. Gently, he brings her face slightly downwards and kisses Rose.
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When she feels his hand against her own all thoughts of the Doctor become buried. There's only him. She's completely lost for a moment staring into his eyes, feeling his fingertips against the side of her face pulling her down and then his lips against hers. It's...She doesn't pull away becoming wrapped up in the feeling and deepening the kiss as she lowers herself down even further to settle into his lap.
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"Harry..."
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"I suppose that answers that question," he says quietly, thankful that he at least finished his patch job before Rose broke off the kiss. He lets her hair run through the fingers of his left hand, as he thinks of how he wants to portray this. "It's difficult to love someone when they're incapable of any sort of commitment, isn't it?"
He is saved from having to do much more improvisation by the sound of the kettle boiling off in the kitchen. "Excuse me," he says solemnly, scooping her legs sideways off his lap and slipping out from under her. "The tea."
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