Ficlet: Sit
Title: Sit
Rating: G
Characters: Six, Peri, Ainley!Master.
Genre: Gen
Summary: Another of the Master's plans to gain an army and defeat the Doctor falls apart before it even begins. Luckily, Peri is on hand to save the day with a rolled-up newspaper.
Warnings: Pretty much crack-fic.
Notes: Written for aralias.
The Master yelped, his face white with pain, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked quite pitiful lying there, defeated and thoroughly dishonoured.
“That’s what you get!” the Doctor said, wagging a finger at him. “I keep on telling you, but you don’t listen! You get desperate, then you get sloppy, and then you get defeated by your own minions. What were you thinking, anyway? Did you really think you were powerful enough to subjugate the Dukkons? Ha! Better men than you have tried and failed! Those people cannot be called to heel.”
The Master yelped again. Peri hit him lightly with the end of the bandage she was wrapping around his shin. “Oh, be quiet, you big baby,” she said. He bit his lip and managed not to whimper again as she tied off the bandage and handed him a couple of aspirin.
“Honestly,” the Doctor said, really getting into his stride now, “just when I think you’ve pulled off the single most irresponsibly stupid plan possible in this or any other universe, you manage to come up with something even stupider and a million times more irresponsible. Did you take lessons in incompetence at the Academy? Was that one of the lectures I always managed to sleep through? Or were you just born with this supreme talent for causing chaos in precisely the sort of way that you didn’t plan? Either way, Master, consider me thoroughly impressed.”
Peri walked over to the other infirmary bed, where the Doctor was sprawled. She hit him on the shoulder with a fresh roll of bandage. “You can be quiet too. I saw you running around, terrified of those cute little puppies.”
“They were Dukkons,” the Master snapped. “A powerful warrior race dedicated to the spread of chaos in the universe. Creatures of such deep simplicity that not even the finest mind can predict what they will do next.”
“They were puppies,” said Peri, evenly. “Cute, fluffy Labrador puppies.”
“Evil puppies,” said the Doctor. He grimaced in pain as Peri rolled up his trouser legs and examined the little rows of bite marks around his shins and ankles. She wondered, vaguely, if space-dogs carried rabies and whether the Doctor and the Master could possibly get any more insane than they already were.
“Nonsense,” she said. “They just needed a little discipline and a little TLC.”
“It was remarkable the way you made them sit,” the Doctor mused.
“I bet that’s the closest I’ll get to a thank-you, isn’t it?” Peri finished bandaging up his wounds, and washed her hands in the sink. “Now you two sit tight and play nice. I‘ll be back in a couple of hours to check for infections.”
“Hang on,” said the Doctor. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the Master, who was glaring at him, sourly. “We need to make a decision. What do you reckon we do with him?”
Peri paused at the door. “I suggest,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “that you smack him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.”
Rating: G
Characters: Six, Peri, Ainley!Master.
Genre: Gen
Summary: Another of the Master's plans to gain an army and defeat the Doctor falls apart before it even begins. Luckily, Peri is on hand to save the day with a rolled-up newspaper.
Warnings: Pretty much crack-fic.
Notes: Written for aralias.
The Master yelped, his face white with pain, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked quite pitiful lying there, defeated and thoroughly dishonoured.
“That’s what you get!” the Doctor said, wagging a finger at him. “I keep on telling you, but you don’t listen! You get desperate, then you get sloppy, and then you get defeated by your own minions. What were you thinking, anyway? Did you really think you were powerful enough to subjugate the Dukkons? Ha! Better men than you have tried and failed! Those people cannot be called to heel.”
The Master yelped again. Peri hit him lightly with the end of the bandage she was wrapping around his shin. “Oh, be quiet, you big baby,” she said. He bit his lip and managed not to whimper again as she tied off the bandage and handed him a couple of aspirin.
“Honestly,” the Doctor said, really getting into his stride now, “just when I think you’ve pulled off the single most irresponsibly stupid plan possible in this or any other universe, you manage to come up with something even stupider and a million times more irresponsible. Did you take lessons in incompetence at the Academy? Was that one of the lectures I always managed to sleep through? Or were you just born with this supreme talent for causing chaos in precisely the sort of way that you didn’t plan? Either way, Master, consider me thoroughly impressed.”
Peri walked over to the other infirmary bed, where the Doctor was sprawled. She hit him on the shoulder with a fresh roll of bandage. “You can be quiet too. I saw you running around, terrified of those cute little puppies.”
“They were Dukkons,” the Master snapped. “A powerful warrior race dedicated to the spread of chaos in the universe. Creatures of such deep simplicity that not even the finest mind can predict what they will do next.”
“They were puppies,” said Peri, evenly. “Cute, fluffy Labrador puppies.”
“Evil puppies,” said the Doctor. He grimaced in pain as Peri rolled up his trouser legs and examined the little rows of bite marks around his shins and ankles. She wondered, vaguely, if space-dogs carried rabies and whether the Doctor and the Master could possibly get any more insane than they already were.
“Nonsense,” she said. “They just needed a little discipline and a little TLC.”
“It was remarkable the way you made them sit,” the Doctor mused.
“I bet that’s the closest I’ll get to a thank-you, isn’t it?” Peri finished bandaging up his wounds, and washed her hands in the sink. “Now you two sit tight and play nice. I‘ll be back in a couple of hours to check for infections.”
“Hang on,” said the Doctor. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the Master, who was glaring at him, sourly. “We need to make a decision. What do you reckon we do with him?”
Peri paused at the door. “I suggest,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “that you smack him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.”