Spooks/Doctor Who Cross-Over Fanfiction
Title: Game Over (Read part one)
Author: Snowbunny22
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Martha Jones, Lucas North, The Master
Pairing: Martha/Lucas
Words: Approx. 2, 068
Spoilers: End of Season 3 of Doctor Who.. sort of.
Warnings: Crossover fiction of Spooks and Doctor Who. There is character death.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Viv for helping with what the Master wants. Also, this didn't quite turn out the way I wanted to, but here it is anyways. :)
The dark, windowless cell was something Lucas was all too familiar with and the instant he was shoved inside, he felt the memories of Russia flood back into him. Eight long years he spent in a prison similar to this and half the time he was being tortured one way or the other. This didn’t bode well for them and he knew without even thinking that he would not be able to sleep.
Martha was shoved in moments after him, tears still hot against her cheeks from the scene moments ago. He was dead. The Doctor was dead. Martha felt numb all over and even though she had seen it with her own eyes, a part of her wanted to believe he could regenerate. The Doctor was supposed to live forever.
She hit the cement ground with her palms out to break her fall. Martha fell forward and rolled awkwardly onto her back as the cell door was closed, locking them in the near pitch-black room. For a moment neither of them said anything. All that sounded in the room was Martha’s breathing as she tried to get a handle on her crying.
“I’m sorry,” She finally said in a strained voice, though her breathing had calmed down considerable. “I... I just - ”
“Shh…” Lucas murmured as he moved in the darkness. When he found Martha, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close. This was one of the things that was different from his time in Russia. Contact. Touch.
“I didn’t want to -”
“Martha,” He said softly. She didn’t need to explain herself to him. He had a fairly good idea why she had made the decision she did and if he were in the same position, he would have probably done the same thing. Kill a life, save a million.
For hours they stayed like that in the cell, huddled together for warmth and for contact. They hardly spoke, the death of the Doctor weighing heavily on Martha’s mind and the loss of his team weighing heavily on Lucas’.
Finally, Martha broke the silence. “What do you think will happen to us.”
If this was a normal situation, Lucas has a pretty idea what would happen. He wasn’t so sure if it would be the same or not. “I don’t know.”
“The Master. He’s… very cruel.” His previous display with the Doctor was proof enough of that.
Martha could feel Lucas nod and she waited for a response, but nothing came. Nothing because the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard and they were getting closer. Martha felt Lucas tense and she reached up to lace her fingers with his. Whatever was going to happen, they would see it through together.
The door swung open. The bright light of the hallway forced Martha and Lucas to blink back against it until two large figures blocked the doorframe. Martha squinted as she tried to make out who or what it was, but she wasn’t given enough time to adjust before she felt strong hands reaching out for her.
“No!” Lucas held onto Martha tightly. He would not let her go. Whatever was on the other side of the cell was not going to be pleasant and he didn’t want her to experience. The guard and him struggled over Martha for a moment. “Take me -”
The second guard pulled Lucas back and kicked him hard in the ribs. The air rushed out of him and he crumpled to the floor. Fighting passed the pain, he looked up in time to see Martha being dragged out of the cell. Then there was darkness again.
An hour and thirty-two minutes. That was how long it had been since Martha was taken. Lucas had spent the time keeping track. It was as close to accurate as he was going to get without a stopwatch, but it was accurate enough. His head lifted when he heard footsteps approaching again. They paused outside the cell and a moment later, the door was wretched open.
“Come with me.”
Lucas was slow to stand, but he did so, following the soldier quietly. There was no sign of Martha from what he could see and he feared the worst. Though as they came upon another door, he thought maybe the worse was not death. Maybe it was something else.
The Master stood inside the room with his hands folded behind his back, staring at his reflection in the large mirror. Lucas immediately scowled as he was ushered into the room and the door closed behind him. Several vivid thoughts about what exactly he wanted to do to the man crossed Lucas’ mind as he held his hands loosely by his sides, ready for anything.
“Aw, now is that any way to greet the man who saved your life?” The Master turned around with a dramatic face of disappointment.
“And took another in my place,” Lucas countered with unwavering belligerence.
“Yes, well, he was going to die sooner or later. I thought it might as well be sooner.” The Master grinned. “Now, before you go on and on about how I’ll ‘never get away with this’ and blah, blah, blah, I have something to show you.”
With his hands in his pockets, the Master strolled over to the side of the room where a blue button stuck out from the wall next to the mirror. He turned and looked at Lucas with a casual expression. Then with one fluid motion, he pressed the button.
The mirror’s reflection faded to reveal a see-through window into another room. The other was darkly painted and poorly kept. Stark except for a few electronic equipment and a chair in the middle where Martha sat, tied down and slumped forward. Lucas felt his heart constrict at the sight of Martha, badly bruised and bleeding, looking lifeless on the chair.
As if the Master could read his mind, the shook his head. “Oh, she’s not dead. Well. At least not yet.”
As if on cue, a man in the room tossed a bucket of water at Martha. The water splashed over her, jerking her body awake in a loud, painful cry of surprised. She gasped for air and tried to focus, blinking rapidly. Lucas tensed at the sound of the water, pushing back the memories of his own time at Russia, trying to focus on the situation at hand.
“What do you want?” Lucas’ jaw set firm as he talked through tight lips.
“What do I want? Well, finally someone asks me! I want a lot of things. A life time supply of jelly babies would be nice. A kitten would be nice too. An orange one wit blue eyes and a fluffy tale. Oh! And a really big gun. Always need one of those.”
Lucas didn’t flinch, though he felt his bitter hatred for the man rise at his blatant display of nonchalant arrogance. “I meant with me.”
“Oh.” The Master almost looked disappointed that he wasn’t allowed to continue, but it quickly faded. “I’m looking for a box. A blue box. I know you’ve seen it around.”
He had. Lucas remembered seeing the out-of-place police box outside the British Museum, but the recognition didn’t appear on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Pity.”
The Master rapped the glass with his knuckles and the man in the room with Martha moved over to one of the machines. He pressed a button and suddenly Martha cried out in pain, body arching against the restraints. He released the button and Martha slumped forward again.
Lucas’ hands curled into tight fists as Martha cried out, wanting to look away, but not wanting to give the Master satisfaction that his actions were affecting him. Martha, I’m sorry.
“Did I mention I have her hooked up to receive high dosages of electricity? I’m sure I mentioned that…”
Martha cried out again as another surge of electricity passed through her. She could barely see, her mind confused and disoriented. All she felt was pain. Pain and fatigue. She went limp again, chin to her chest as she moved in and out of consciousness.
“So,” The Master looked back at Lucas with a smile, clearly enjoying himself. “Going to tell me where I can find the TARDIS or are you going to let her suffer? You’re in charge here. I’m just along for the ride.”
The Master lifted his hand to signal the man to press the button again when Lucas spoke up. “Wait.”
His team was dead. Elizabeta was dead. Everyone he knew. Everyone he knew except for Martha who was going to die unless he gave the Master what he wanted. This went far beyond Britain’s security now. The old rules didn’t much apply in a world run by a mad man.
Lucas took a deep breath. “It’s outside the British Museum.”
A wide smile spread across the Master’s face and he clapped his hands together. “Excellent! I knew you two alone then.”
The Master signalled with his hand and the man in the other room left, only to appear in the room with Lucas and usher him to the back of the wall. The Master moved to the door and grinned once again. “Now I do wish I could stay to watch the rest, but you know how it is. Places to be, people to ruin. Ta-ta!”
Lucas was locked in the room by himself looking out into the other room where Martha in the chair was now the only thing in it. He could see her chest slowly rising and falling, the only sign of life, but it was enough to give him hope. That was, of course, until water began to pour into Martha’s room.
It came in heavy and quick.
“Martha!” Lucas shouted, banging against the glass with his fist but she didn’t stir. He banged a few more times as he felt panic rise within him. He had to do something or else he was going to lose her too.
He turned in the room, running a trembling hand through his hair, and lay eyes on the fold-up chair leaning against the wall. Lucas was quick to grab it and with all of his strength, swung the chair at the window. The window buckled, but didn’t shatter and he tried again without any luck.
Lucas let out a frustrated and worried sound turning around in the room once again looking for something, anything. The only other thing was a fire extinguisher. He glanced to Martha, her room already filled up to her neck, and reached for the red container. He didn’t know if this was going to work, but he had to try. Aiming the nozzle at the window, Lucas sprayed the contents of it at the glass.
“Come on, come on.” He quietly urged through clenched teeth as the window was almost completely filled with water, Martha’s head having gone under only moments ago. He knew with the state she was in, she couldn’t hold out for very long, His pulse picked up. He needed to get to her.
When the contents of the extinguisher were empties, Lucas tossed it aside and picked up the chair once again. He swung at the window. This time, it cracked. A small spurt of water sprang from the pinhole leak and Lucas felt the beginning of relief spread through him. He swung at it again and the glass shattered.
Water spilled from Martha’s room into Lucas’ and knocked him off his feet. He bit back the memories and forced himself to stand, hauling himself over the broken window and over to Martha as quickly as he could. The restraints came off quickly and he pulled her to him, stumbling and falling into the pool of water that was still rising, though slower than it had before.
“Martha.” He was breathless, shaking Martha’s limp body as he held onto her. “Martha!”
There was no response. She wasn’t breathing.
Lucas let out a choked sob, pulling her closed to his chest and closing his eyes. “Oh Martha, I’m so sorry.” He should have gotten to her sooner. He should have been able to save her.
But the water was rising anyways and the doors were still locked.
Lucas held onto Martha closely and kissed the side of his temple. At least now, there would be peace.
Author: Snowbunny22
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Martha Jones, Lucas North, The Master
Pairing: Martha/Lucas
Words: Approx. 2, 068
Spoilers: End of Season 3 of Doctor Who.. sort of.
Warnings: Crossover fiction of Spooks and Doctor Who. There is character death.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Viv for helping with what the Master wants. Also, this didn't quite turn out the way I wanted to, but here it is anyways. :)
The dark, windowless cell was something Lucas was all too familiar with and the instant he was shoved inside, he felt the memories of Russia flood back into him. Eight long years he spent in a prison similar to this and half the time he was being tortured one way or the other. This didn’t bode well for them and he knew without even thinking that he would not be able to sleep.
Martha was shoved in moments after him, tears still hot against her cheeks from the scene moments ago. He was dead. The Doctor was dead. Martha felt numb all over and even though she had seen it with her own eyes, a part of her wanted to believe he could regenerate. The Doctor was supposed to live forever.
She hit the cement ground with her palms out to break her fall. Martha fell forward and rolled awkwardly onto her back as the cell door was closed, locking them in the near pitch-black room. For a moment neither of them said anything. All that sounded in the room was Martha’s breathing as she tried to get a handle on her crying.
“I’m sorry,” She finally said in a strained voice, though her breathing had calmed down considerable. “I... I just - ”
“Shh…” Lucas murmured as he moved in the darkness. When he found Martha, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close. This was one of the things that was different from his time in Russia. Contact. Touch.
“I didn’t want to -”
“Martha,” He said softly. She didn’t need to explain herself to him. He had a fairly good idea why she had made the decision she did and if he were in the same position, he would have probably done the same thing. Kill a life, save a million.
For hours they stayed like that in the cell, huddled together for warmth and for contact. They hardly spoke, the death of the Doctor weighing heavily on Martha’s mind and the loss of his team weighing heavily on Lucas’.
Finally, Martha broke the silence. “What do you think will happen to us.”
If this was a normal situation, Lucas has a pretty idea what would happen. He wasn’t so sure if it would be the same or not. “I don’t know.”
“The Master. He’s… very cruel.” His previous display with the Doctor was proof enough of that.
Martha could feel Lucas nod and she waited for a response, but nothing came. Nothing because the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard and they were getting closer. Martha felt Lucas tense and she reached up to lace her fingers with his. Whatever was going to happen, they would see it through together.
The door swung open. The bright light of the hallway forced Martha and Lucas to blink back against it until two large figures blocked the doorframe. Martha squinted as she tried to make out who or what it was, but she wasn’t given enough time to adjust before she felt strong hands reaching out for her.
“No!” Lucas held onto Martha tightly. He would not let her go. Whatever was on the other side of the cell was not going to be pleasant and he didn’t want her to experience. The guard and him struggled over Martha for a moment. “Take me -”
The second guard pulled Lucas back and kicked him hard in the ribs. The air rushed out of him and he crumpled to the floor. Fighting passed the pain, he looked up in time to see Martha being dragged out of the cell. Then there was darkness again.
An hour and thirty-two minutes. That was how long it had been since Martha was taken. Lucas had spent the time keeping track. It was as close to accurate as he was going to get without a stopwatch, but it was accurate enough. His head lifted when he heard footsteps approaching again. They paused outside the cell and a moment later, the door was wretched open.
“Come with me.”
Lucas was slow to stand, but he did so, following the soldier quietly. There was no sign of Martha from what he could see and he feared the worst. Though as they came upon another door, he thought maybe the worse was not death. Maybe it was something else.
The Master stood inside the room with his hands folded behind his back, staring at his reflection in the large mirror. Lucas immediately scowled as he was ushered into the room and the door closed behind him. Several vivid thoughts about what exactly he wanted to do to the man crossed Lucas’ mind as he held his hands loosely by his sides, ready for anything.
“Aw, now is that any way to greet the man who saved your life?” The Master turned around with a dramatic face of disappointment.
“And took another in my place,” Lucas countered with unwavering belligerence.
“Yes, well, he was going to die sooner or later. I thought it might as well be sooner.” The Master grinned. “Now, before you go on and on about how I’ll ‘never get away with this’ and blah, blah, blah, I have something to show you.”
With his hands in his pockets, the Master strolled over to the side of the room where a blue button stuck out from the wall next to the mirror. He turned and looked at Lucas with a casual expression. Then with one fluid motion, he pressed the button.
The mirror’s reflection faded to reveal a see-through window into another room. The other was darkly painted and poorly kept. Stark except for a few electronic equipment and a chair in the middle where Martha sat, tied down and slumped forward. Lucas felt his heart constrict at the sight of Martha, badly bruised and bleeding, looking lifeless on the chair.
As if the Master could read his mind, the shook his head. “Oh, she’s not dead. Well. At least not yet.”
As if on cue, a man in the room tossed a bucket of water at Martha. The water splashed over her, jerking her body awake in a loud, painful cry of surprised. She gasped for air and tried to focus, blinking rapidly. Lucas tensed at the sound of the water, pushing back the memories of his own time at Russia, trying to focus on the situation at hand.
“What do you want?” Lucas’ jaw set firm as he talked through tight lips.
“What do I want? Well, finally someone asks me! I want a lot of things. A life time supply of jelly babies would be nice. A kitten would be nice too. An orange one wit blue eyes and a fluffy tale. Oh! And a really big gun. Always need one of those.”
Lucas didn’t flinch, though he felt his bitter hatred for the man rise at his blatant display of nonchalant arrogance. “I meant with me.”
“Oh.” The Master almost looked disappointed that he wasn’t allowed to continue, but it quickly faded. “I’m looking for a box. A blue box. I know you’ve seen it around.”
He had. Lucas remembered seeing the out-of-place police box outside the British Museum, but the recognition didn’t appear on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Pity.”
The Master rapped the glass with his knuckles and the man in the room with Martha moved over to one of the machines. He pressed a button and suddenly Martha cried out in pain, body arching against the restraints. He released the button and Martha slumped forward again.
Lucas’ hands curled into tight fists as Martha cried out, wanting to look away, but not wanting to give the Master satisfaction that his actions were affecting him. Martha, I’m sorry.
“Did I mention I have her hooked up to receive high dosages of electricity? I’m sure I mentioned that…”
Martha cried out again as another surge of electricity passed through her. She could barely see, her mind confused and disoriented. All she felt was pain. Pain and fatigue. She went limp again, chin to her chest as she moved in and out of consciousness.
“So,” The Master looked back at Lucas with a smile, clearly enjoying himself. “Going to tell me where I can find the TARDIS or are you going to let her suffer? You’re in charge here. I’m just along for the ride.”
The Master lifted his hand to signal the man to press the button again when Lucas spoke up. “Wait.”
His team was dead. Elizabeta was dead. Everyone he knew. Everyone he knew except for Martha who was going to die unless he gave the Master what he wanted. This went far beyond Britain’s security now. The old rules didn’t much apply in a world run by a mad man.
Lucas took a deep breath. “It’s outside the British Museum.”
A wide smile spread across the Master’s face and he clapped his hands together. “Excellent! I knew you two alone then.”
The Master signalled with his hand and the man in the other room left, only to appear in the room with Lucas and usher him to the back of the wall. The Master moved to the door and grinned once again. “Now I do wish I could stay to watch the rest, but you know how it is. Places to be, people to ruin. Ta-ta!”
Lucas was locked in the room by himself looking out into the other room where Martha in the chair was now the only thing in it. He could see her chest slowly rising and falling, the only sign of life, but it was enough to give him hope. That was, of course, until water began to pour into Martha’s room.
It came in heavy and quick.
“Martha!” Lucas shouted, banging against the glass with his fist but she didn’t stir. He banged a few more times as he felt panic rise within him. He had to do something or else he was going to lose her too.
He turned in the room, running a trembling hand through his hair, and lay eyes on the fold-up chair leaning against the wall. Lucas was quick to grab it and with all of his strength, swung the chair at the window. The window buckled, but didn’t shatter and he tried again without any luck.
Lucas let out a frustrated and worried sound turning around in the room once again looking for something, anything. The only other thing was a fire extinguisher. He glanced to Martha, her room already filled up to her neck, and reached for the red container. He didn’t know if this was going to work, but he had to try. Aiming the nozzle at the window, Lucas sprayed the contents of it at the glass.
“Come on, come on.” He quietly urged through clenched teeth as the window was almost completely filled with water, Martha’s head having gone under only moments ago. He knew with the state she was in, she couldn’t hold out for very long, His pulse picked up. He needed to get to her.
When the contents of the extinguisher were empties, Lucas tossed it aside and picked up the chair once again. He swung at the window. This time, it cracked. A small spurt of water sprang from the pinhole leak and Lucas felt the beginning of relief spread through him. He swung at it again and the glass shattered.
Water spilled from Martha’s room into Lucas’ and knocked him off his feet. He bit back the memories and forced himself to stand, hauling himself over the broken window and over to Martha as quickly as he could. The restraints came off quickly and he pulled her to him, stumbling and falling into the pool of water that was still rising, though slower than it had before.
“Martha.” He was breathless, shaking Martha’s limp body as he held onto her. “Martha!”
There was no response. She wasn’t breathing.
Lucas let out a choked sob, pulling her closed to his chest and closing his eyes. “Oh Martha, I’m so sorry.” He should have gotten to her sooner. He should have been able to save her.
But the water was rising anyways and the doors were still locked.
Lucas held onto Martha closely and kissed the side of his temple. At least now, there would be peace.