The Art of Manipulation
Title: The Art of Manipulation
Pairing: Master/Doctor/Jack, Doctor/OC
Challenge: Disappearance
Rating: PG - PG13
Warnings: Crack (bad crack at that), mentions of sex though nothing explicit
Spoilers: Last of the Time Lords
Summary: When the Master and Jack are too busy fighting with each other to pay attention to him, the Doctor takes matters into his own hands.
A/N: I wanted my first contribution to this comm to be something serious and ‘deep‘. This isn’t. At all. I wasn’t in the mood for writing serious fic so this happened instead. I'm very sorry. I will write something serious for this comm in the future, I promise.
The Doctor sighed as another row flared up between Jack and the Master. The three of them were in the kitchen, the Doctor was quietly drinking tea and eating croissants, reading the paper (3rd August, 2453, one of his favourites) and Jack and the Master were toasting bagels. Or they would have been, had not each of them been trying to shove the other’s fingers into the toaster.
The Doctor didn’t bother to ask what started this argument, he’d gotten beyond the stage of actually caring, and calmly turned the page of the newspaper, just as Jack let out a string of colourful expletives in various languages. It was always fun listening to Jack, he learnt so many new words.
It was getting rather annoying, actually; he was constantly having to separate the two, squabbling like a pair of boys in the playground, there was never a peaceful moment on the TARDIS, what with all the shouting and the occasional cry of pain. But most importantly, the Doctor wasn’t getting any. And for someone living with two sex-crazed men who wanted his body, that was quite a feat.
The trouble was, it would always start off good, he would be getting cosy with either Jack or the Master, or both, if it was a good day, and things would start to go in the right direction, and the right direction, to put it explicitly, was the bedroom. But something always happened, and it would always end up with the two of them at each other’s throats because of ridiculous, alpha male competitiveness.
He had tried telling Jack about it the previous day, sighing dejectedly whilst looking doleful and helpless, but Jack was so busy arguing with the Master about how he was quite clearly compensating for something with his unnecessarily large laser screwdriver, that he barely noticed the Doctor clinging onto his arm and being needy.
This ongoing war with the Master must be more serious than he thought, the Doctor realised later, after his seduction attempts had gone unnoticed; the Jack he knew would never ignore a willing , and perhaps a little desperate, Doctor, practically begging for him to take him to bed. It was then he decided that serious measures needed to be taken. Jack and the Master just needed to see how much they had in common; shouldn’t be too difficult….
Anyway, the Doctor always loved a challenge.
He finished off his croissant, downed the rest of his tea and stood up, watching with some interest as Jack sucked the burnt fingers of one hand, whilst using the other to try and strangle the Master.
“When you two have quite finished!” he snapped, and somewhat miraculously, they froze. The Doctor tried not to look too surprised and continued to address them firmly. “I am going to get dressed and then I am going set the coordinates to random and we are going to explore whatever is outside those doors like mature, sensible adults instead of the primitive, uncivilised animals you two seem to have devolved into.”
“Not a big step backwards for the freak,” the Master snarled, glaring at Jack. Jack opened his mouth to retort when the Doctor cut across.
“Am I understood?” he said sharply. They both turned back to him, the Master with an ugly look on his face, Jack’s filled with wonder, and the Doctor realised that he had inadvertently fuelled Jack’s dominant Doctor fantasies for the next few weeks at least. He sighed, but then perked up at the thought of actually getting laid for the first time in an age. Things were looking up already.
XxXxXxX
Jack followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS, pointedly ignoring the Master’s many and varied death threats muttered not-so-quietly behind his back. The three of them stepped out into a spacious and metallic-looking spaceship, and Jack took a moment to marvel at all the flashy tech. He was a big fan of spaceships with flashy tech.
“We’re on a cruise ship, the lower levels by the looks of it, which would explain why there’s no one about.”
“Well that’s bloody typical of you, take us halfway across the Universe just to see the disused decks of a cruise ship. All my dreams have been fulfilled,” the Master said sarcastically. The Doctor gave him a long-suffering look, and glanced across to where Jack was fiddling with some controls.
“Be careful there, Jack, don’t want to press something you're not supposed to.”
“Yeah, freak, no blowing us up. I do not want to die on some crappy cruise ship just because you like pressing buttons.” Jack saluted the Doctor and ignored the Master. He didn’t just like pressing buttons, he liked flicking switches and turning dials as well. Besides, he did know a bit about these things…
He just wished the Doctor would learn not to stand on transmats that could so easily be activated by the dials and switches Jack happened to be messing around with. Of course, the first he knew of it was the Master’s cry of shock and anger. He didn’t turn around immediately; the Master often made angry noises, he just liked the attention.
“What the hell have you done, you useless bloody ape?!” Jack turned around to see what he was blathering on about this time only to see, or rather, not see, the Doctor.
“Where’d he go?” he asked dumbly, and the look of cold fury on the Master’s face told him that wasn’t the most intelligent thing he’d ever said.
“You tell me!” he replied, his eyes going wide and even more mad than before. “You were the idiot who was playing with things he didn’t understand, and now look what you’ve done!”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Jack protested, going over to the space where the Doctor had been standing only moments ago, and waving his hands through it.
“Who’s fault was it then?” the Master snapped, “And that’s really helpful.” Jack stopped, and his arms dropped to his sides, as he looked indignantly at the Master.
“Well what do you suggest we do?” The Master gave him a pointed look and pulled the laser screwdriver from his suit pocket. “Oh you’re going to kill me, that’ll solve everything.” Jack said sarcastically.
“You’ll be amazed how often it does,” the Master said, almost conversationally. “But believe it or not, killing you isn’t its only function, it also comes with a variety of torture settings, which I’m sure you’ll remember…” he smiled sweetly.
“Yes, I do,” Jack said acidly.
“Can age or de-age a body, and do everything the sonic screwdriver can do,” he said, almost proudly. “Including scanning for residual energy left behind by the transmat.” He then proceeded to do exactly that, leaving Jack to fret about the Doctor.
The Master seemed to be worrying too. “If he’s dead…” he muttered, and Jack could tell he was concerned because he couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a good threat.
The scan proved fruitless, and gave no indication as to where it could have taken the Doctor. No matter how many buttons the Master pressed (and Jack suspected he knew no more about it than he did), the Doctor didn’t return. Even the TARDIS scanners were useless, so the two were left to mope around until one of them came up with a good plan.
“He could be floating around in a vacuum, right now,” the Master said thoughtfully. “Unable to breathe, his lifeless body floating endlessly around in the dark recesses of space.” Cheerful bastard. “And it’ll be all your fault. On your conscience for the rest of your life. You killed the Doctor. He’s dead because of you. You killed the Doctor,” he repeated, as though making sure he heard him.
“Or he could have landed in the middle of a battle field, or on a Dalek warship, or in the middle of a great big furnace.” Jack gave him a look and the Master shrugged. “Well I don’t know, do I?”
He was silent for a moment, tapping the screwdriver against his chin. “He’s probably dying a horrible and painful death right now…”
“Will you be quiet?!” Jack snapped.
“I was just saying…”
“Well don’t.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
XxXxXxX
“Well there’s this immortal one, Jack he’s called. Really good looking, muscled, blue eyes, gorgeous smile, you know the type,” slurred the Doctor. He was having to talk loudly over the music that was thumping out into the crowded room, despite the fact that his mouth was mere inches away from the handsome young Lord’s ear.
He didn’t know who he was, hadn’t caught his name, he only knew that he was very rich, and very forward, and within half an hour of being at the party, the Doctor found himself more than a little tipsy, and sitting on the lap of said Lord.
“And, y’know, he’s been madly in love with me for over a hundred years, he says he’s been following me for a long time, but don’t get the wrong idea, he isn’t a stalker… at least I don’t think he is. Mind you, he did have my hand all that time, I’d hate to think what he’s been doing to it.” He shuddered, and the Lord moaned into his neck.
“And then there’s the Master, only one of my species left, known him since I was a kid, which is a long time to know someone when you’re over nine hundred years old, don’t you think?”
“Mmnhmm,” replied the Lord eloquently, as he nibbled his ear.
“Anyway, he’s a raving lunatic who likes to take over the Universe for kicks and has this weird obsession with me that he’s had since we were kids.” He paused. “Blimey, I don’t half pick ’em.” The Lord made a noise of agreement, his right hand moving down to the Doctor’s arse.
“But now I’m living with both of them, trying to have a happy, three-way relationship. But the only problem is they hate each other’s guts. Which I suppose you could say is understandable, since the Master spent a whole year torturing Jack, but you’d think, since they share a common interest, they’d put their differences aside, wouldn’t you?”
“Yep,” replied the Lord, as he started unbuttoning the Doctor’s suit jacket.
“And now, they spend so much time arguing and fighting that they forget about me. And neither of them realise that if they both learn to share they can both get what they want, which, incidentally is what I want, and then everybody would be happy!” The Lord’s hand was under his shirt now; how many hands did he have? The Doctor was pretty sure he hadn’t miscounted, and that the Lord was humanoid, but he was beginning to wonder.
“So I’m hoping that while I’m gone the two of them will be so distraught and concerned for my safety, that they make friends and join forces in trying to find me, doing their alpha male thing where they rescue the poor damsel in distress blah blah… I wish they’d realise that I’m really the one pulling the strings, they do underestimate me, you know.”
The Lord gave a grunt, clearly too engrossed in molesting him to be paying much attention to what he was saying. The Doctor sighed loudly, pulling away from the arms of the Lord and doing up his jacket.
“Thanks for talking, it’s been fun.” And he turned and walked away, leaving the Lord blinking in shock and disappointment.
XxXxXxX
The Master and Jack sat side by side, leaning against the wall, staring sightlessly at the spot where the Doctor had disappeared. The Master’s constant morbid predictions about the Doctor’s fate had petered out after the first hour, and they had been silent ever since. Apart from a few minutes before when the Master had hurled his screwdriver across the room in a hissy fit, calling it a useless piece of junk.
But other than that, there had been silence, which made the sudden whoosh of energy, and the bright light that suddenly appeared, all the more unexpected. The Doctor appeared along with it, on all fours. He looked up at them and beamed.
“You two getting along yet?” There was a moment of stunned silence before both Jack and the Master leapt to their feet in perfect unison.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jack asked as he helped the Doctor to his feet; he was still groggy from the transmat.
“More importantly, what do you mean, ‘are we getting along yet’?” the Master asked archly, didn’t miss a trick, that one. The Doctor looked at the two men.
“Um, question one, a party, a party with lots of music and lots of drinks and lots of bored rich gits. Question two, I mean, are you two getting along yet, now that you’ve had time to… get to know each other.”
“What a strange thing to be top of your priorities after being unexpectedly transmatted across the Universe.” the Master said coldly.
“Actually, I think I was only transmatted upstairs, onto the main deck,” the Doctor replied sheepishly.
“Upstairs,” the Master repeated, his voice strangely emotionless.
“You were upstairs?” asked Jack incredulously.
“Then how come we could find no record of where you went?” demanded the Master. The Doctor shrugged, not meeting their eyes.
“I may have rigged it so you couldn’t find me,” he admitted.
“And why would you do that, Doctor?” The Doctor didn’t like how calm the Master’s voice was, he shuffled closer to Jack, who immediately put his arm round his shoulders protectively. Sometimes he was so predictable.
“I wanted you to worry so you’d put aside your differences and try to find me together.” There was a long silence, during which the Master and Jack actually met each other’s eyes to exchange a look of exasperation. This was quickly covered of course, the Master by returning his glare to the Doctor, and Jack trying to work out why the Doctor was suddenly so eager to pair him with the Master.
The Doctor sighed, the two of them were so slow sometimes. So he started to explain, using simple words so they understood completely.
XxXxXxX
It was funny, how the simple plans always worked the best, thought the Doctor, as he lay contentedly between his two lovers. There had been a lot of confusion and anger and the two of them generally being really pissed off with him.
But once they had got over that, and the Doctor told them how if they didn’t get their acts together, he would dump them on a remote planet, and go set up a harem made up of all his old companions, things started happening. Good things. Very good things.
They still hated each other of course; nothing could change that, and the Doctor doubted he would ever have sweet gentle lovemaking with both of them, not when they were both so aggressive towards each other, but it was a step in the right direction. They had learned to share, that was the important thing. And now everyone was getting what they wanted.
The Doctor sighed contentedly, shifting under the weight of their arms, draped possessively over his body, mirroring each other unconsciously; not so different after all then, he thought wryly. He closed his eyes, trying to get to sleep, but wondering if he would have to go to the trouble of disappearing again before he got breakfast in bed.