Rachel Berry: On Board the Valiant
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Doctor Who. They are owned by Fox and the BBC, respectively.
Some background info: Rachel Berry has been traveling alongside Martha and the Doctor. When the Master comes 'round and begins his "reign of terror", he puts Rachel to work with Martha's is set just after the Master sings and dances to "I Can't Decide". Enjoy :)
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Rachel Berry, sixteen year old diva extraordinaire, was wiping down a table in a maid's uniform. It had been three months and fourteen days since the Master had taken over the world, and Rachel was feeling every minute of it. At first she had tried to stay positive and considered it an opportunity to really focus on her singing. Every free moment she had was spent in the kitchen-the room with the best acoustics-where she would belt her heart out. Unfortunately, belting is a rather loud form of singing, so it did not take the Master long to get annoyed with Rachel's rehearsals. He threatened to kill Tish if she did not stop, so Rachel's singing voice no longer echoed through the hallways of the Valiant.
Of course that did not stop her from being creative in other ways. Rachel found little ways of distracting herself, mostly through her imagination. She had become quite good at day-dreaming; she could sometimes really believe that she was somewhere else. This was an especially excellent skill for those times when the Master forced her to watch him torture the Doctor or Jack.
Sometimes she couldn't escape from her reality though. The Master would sometimes play with her hair (more often pulling it than stroking it) or speak to her and demand responses. Those were nothing compared to the occasions when he decided to invade her mind. He would force himself into her thoughts and dreams, twist them into disturbing nightmares, and drown her in them until she was sobbing against him. The only relief she could get during these times were when she was touching him (his arm, his face, his chest), that was the only way she could determine that the images he was parading around in her mind weren't real. After these terrifying experiences, he would always hold her shaking frame, gently rocking her and whispering comfort words that she almost believed.
Then there was the Doctor. She would often sneak out to visit him in his tent on evenings when she couldn't get herself to sleep. She would tell him all about the wonderful things she'd dreamed that day, or about the songs she'd come up with for Glee club, or even about her life before she'd begun traveling with him. She told him about her friends in Glee club, about how proud she was of her two gay dads, and about the many musicals that she knew dozens of facts about. He would simply sit there and listen, a small smile resting on his lips through all the wrinkles; her stories were his escape, a remembrance of the wonderfully ordinary lives humans led. Sometimes he would enter her mind-gently, not at all like the Master. He would give her images of distant planets that he'd visited, different people he'd met, and amazing adventures that he'd been on. In return, she would show him some of her dreams. Once, she even let him see himself through her eyes-a father, a wise and peaceful man, a protector. He let silent tears of joy fall and quickly wiped them away before she saw.
Those "meetings of the mind" were not just for comfort though, the Doctor also passed important information onto her through them, including special plans. One such plan was to be put into action halfway through Rachel's table-cleaning duty of the day.
While cleaning, Rachel had begun to dream of traveling back to the time when "Funny Girl" was being filmed to meet Barbara Streisand. Unfortunately, the Master was blaring his music so loudly that Rachel was having a hard time concentrating on what Barbara was wearing.
"You missed a spot." Mrs. Jones' voice crept into her ears. Rachel quickly looked up and saw that Mrs. Jones' was subtly holding up three fingers as she wiped a spot on the table. Rachel nodded at her and took in a deep breath; it was show time.
As "track three" ended and the Master finished his dancing, Rachel sighed loudly. The Master slid up next to her.
"What's wrong, Rachel darling?" He asked, an expression of mock sympathy on his face. "Did you not like the song?"
She stopped wiping the table and faced him. "No, I didn't."
"Oh, how sweet. You're worried about the Doctor." The Master reached out to stroke her cheek. "Well there's really nothing to worry about. I would never kill him...oh, who am I kidding? Of course I would! Just not right now. Not as long as he entertains me."
"Th-that's not why I didn't like the song." Rachel took a step away so that she was out of the Master's reach. She took in another deep breath before continuing, "You're supposed to be a villain, right? Trying to take over the world, enslaving innocent people, and just generally causing chaos and destruction? Well then why are you playing music that an angst-ridden fifteen year old would listen to? You need a real villain song."
A smirk tugged at the corner of the Master's mouth. "Alright, I'll humor you. What do you propose that I play, Miss Berry?"
"Luckily, since you've been giving me mindless cleaning jobs, I have had time to create many play lists in my head."
The Master leaned in closer to whisper, "I know. I've seen them."
"Right," Rachel looked away from him. "Well, you may have seen some of them, but I've created new ones that you haven't seen. Better ones!"
"Are you tempting me, Miss Berry? Shall I look at them for myself?" He raised his hands, ready to place them on her head.
"No!" Rachel jumped back, much to the Master's amusement. "I mean...I'd prefer to show them to you through...ordinary means."
"You're no fun." The Master pouted. "But I am intrigued. Show me."
"I-I'll need a minute to remember them. They're mixed in with other play lists that you wouldn't enjoy very much."
"And why not?" He reached out to play with a lock of her hair.
"Because they contain songs that express my extreme dislike of you...and show tunes."
…
It took Rachel a few minutes to remember, and a few more minutes for the Master's personal DJ to get all of them, but soon the main room was being filled with songs from every genre imaginable. The Master turned down every single one of them, and in the middle of "Be Prepared" from The Lion King, he demanded the sound system be turned off; he would hear no more.
"Enough music. I'm in the mood for some real action," he got an evil glimmer in his eyes. "Rachel, won't you accompany me down to see our dear friend Jack the freak? I think he could use some company."
"Wait! I have one more song!" Rachel cried. "Just listen to one more. Please."
The Master stared at her for a moment. "Alright, let's hear it. This had better be good, Miss Berry. My patience is wearing thin."
Rachel quickly ran up the stairs and disappeared into the DJ booth. She reemerged as the music started up. The song was "Brand New Day" from Doctor Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blogspot. Rachel hoped with every fiber in her being that Neil Patrick Harris would be enough to save her.
Much to her delight, the Master began to dance. He first chose Lucy as his partner, but then spun her away and took Rachel's hand. He pulled her close and began humming along with the music. As the final note was hit, he pushed her away, making her trip over a chair and land hard on the floor. Tish quickly ran to help her.
The Master made his way back to Lucy and began kissing her passionately. While he was distracted, Rachel scrambled to hand the Doctor a certain silver piece of technology she'd taken off the Master. The Doctor looked up at her like a proud father. She smiled brightly down at him and wheeled him closer to the Master.
"Master," the Doctor rasped.
"Yes, Doctor?" The Master turned to look at the decrepit Time Lord.
The Doctor raised a shaky hand up, clutching onto the laser screwdriver, pointing it at the Master. "It's a brand new day."
Author's Note: REVIEW! Or I will be forced to sick the hungy!emo!hot!blond!scary!psychotic!Master on you (how's THAT for description?) I also accept anonymous reviews.