THE TAKEOVER

Summary: After the end of LOTTL, the Master allegedly possessed a female body when she tried on his ring, but what happened after that happened? This story explores that question.

A/N: This story ties in with the "Thirty Years" series, but is not necessarily in the cannon of it.

The Master, who appears in or around Part Four of the series, has been cast as James Marsters. If you don't know him, he played Spike in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and he played Brainiac in "Smallville". (The Thirteenth Doctor is a slightly older version of Alexis Denisof, who played Wesley Wyndam-Price in Buffy and Angel, so I thought the casting seemed to fit.)

Still don't own any of the TV shows mentioned above, and no infringement is intended.

"Hi, stranger…can I buy you a drink?" the petite blonde asked the tall, brown haired stranger with the pronounced cheekbones. He was sitting beside where she stood, his name tag, which said "Karl", sewn into his uniform. The woman guessed that he was probably a custodian or some other position of subservience. He would not be missed, she reasoned. Perfect.

"Sorry, I don't drink with strangers," the man pronounced in a gruff, British accent. The blonde stared back at the man, her cold eyes narrowing. She was not accustomed to being turned down.

"Really?" She questioned. Extending her hand, she said, "then why don't we get to know each other? My name is Lucy."

"I'm Karl, and I'm late," the man said without shaking it, putting several pound notes on the table. "Later, Dave," he said to the bartender. He got up and walked out.

Lucy turned to Dave, saying, "What's wrong with him?"

"He just caught his girl messin' about with one of his best buds last week," Dave answered, shaking his head sadly.

Lucy shook her head sadly. "Poor guy," she said. "If I were his girl, I would never treat him like that! We would be joined at the hip, he and I." She hoped the bartender wouldn't see the calculating look in her eyes.

Dave peered at the attractive woman. She appeared to be genuinely interested in Karl, but there was something…off about her. He couldn't identify it, but his instincts told him he should put off this one. "That's good to hear, but I'm afraid he's not gonna be in the dating game for a long time," Dave commented in what he hoped was a non chalant voice. "Best forget that one."

Lucy stared back at the door Karl had vacated. "I don't know…" she mused. "I have a feeling there is something unforgettable about him."

The attractive blonde pulled out a Black berry and started typing in it, saying to Dave, "You wouldn't happen to know where Karl might be working, do you? I mean—" she let a pair of falsely sympathetic blue eyes wash over Dave—"I just want to make sure he's okay. He seems like such a nice bloke."

Dave shook his head, saying, "Sorry; can't give out that information. Besides, got to toss you out. We're about to close soon."

Lucy threw some pound notes on the table, saying, "of course. I understand." She left the bar, going to her red sports car. The sports car hummed, and then disappeared, seemingly swallowed by the foggy night.

XXXXX

Karl started cleaning in the lobby of the building which had long since been deserted for the night. Many people didn't like the graveyard shift, but he found it comforting. There were no people to shout at him; no managers or critical executives telling him he "missed a spot" or some other such nonsense. Besides, he mentally reasoned, cleaning was therapeutic. He ran the buffer over the marble floor, imagining his girlfriend getting her just deserts from her new boyfriend. As he polished the floor to perfection, he fantasized about Kathleen and her plus sized shape. Ain't that a kicker, he thought, I dated a girl who wasn't even all that, or good in the hay, an' I'm havin' a heart break over her! Good riddance to her! In fact, good riddance to all women. He let the buffer do its magic, and then went to the bathroom to clean the toilets.

XXXXX

Lucy stared at the information she had programmed into her database. She plugged in the picture she'd taken at the bar on her Black berry when no one was watching. Karl's aristocratic features, intense, blue eyed stare, and thin-yet-muscular frame stared back at her. Yes, she had decided again, he was the perfect choice for her to complete her plans.

"I must know: who is he, exactly? Does he have any friends, family?" she asked the computer. "Where is he working tonight?"

The computer hummed for a moment, then the information she wanted appeared on the screen. She set her controls for the Randolph-Kennedy Building in the heart of downtown London.

XXXXX

Karl finished doing his business when he heard a peculiar humming noise. It seemed to be coming from outside the loo…but that was impossible! He figured he should go see what that sound was, and what could be causing it, before someone else who was higher up found out and blamed him for something. Maybe it was a clogged pipe or something like that, he reasoned. Karl hoped he would be able to finish cleaning the toilets in the men's bathroom. He hated leaving a job unfinished. The middle aged man went out into the hall, calling, "hey! Is anyone here?"

There was dead silence…the type that usually precedes something terribly wrong occurring. "Hello?" Karl's gruff, uneducated sounding voice tried again. He looked around, but everything looked normal. He saw nothing but the marble floors, the security desk (which not so strangely had been vacated…Vivien the Guard probably had a late night rendezvous with another guard on another floor, like she usually did—it was amazing what one could pick up from air vents these days). He started back in the direction of the men's bathroom when he spied a sculpture out of the corner of his eye. Karl turned to look at it more closely, since he couldn't recall there being a sculpture in that section of the lobby.

It was bronze, and it resembled a figure from Greek, or other, mythology. The statue was quite tall, and somewhat imposing, as if it was looming over Karl even though he had not gone too close to it. That's strange…he thought, but then reasoned, but maybe Mr. Kennedy's got another work o' art he picked up. Can't keep up with them things, the way he hoards them….Karl saw a picture of Darrell Kennedy in his mind. The wheeling and dealing nature of the billionaire echoed in the janitor's thoughts by the cavalier way Kennedy brushed people aside. When the executive thought Karl wasn't looking each time the custodian emptied the wastebasket, Kennedy cheated yet another willing victim out of his or her stock with his silver tongue. Karl wished he could trade places with Kennedy, or any of the other evil superiors who owned the building.

The custodian walked over to the new sculpture, his eyes lighting with a devilish plan. Perhaps he could pee all over the statue, or something equally gross, and get even that way. His limited train of thought stilled at the notion. He'd get blamed for that, just as he always got blamed for everything. No wonder Kathleen left him! He was such a loser! He turned away from the sculpture when a voice stopped him.

"I never did buy you that drink, Karl," it said. Karl turned back to see the blonde from Dave's bar…what was her name again? Lena? Loreli? Lucy? Lucy! That was it. But how did she get in here?

"Cat got your tongue?" She teased, coming closer.

"How did you get in here without a key?" Karl asked, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"It's not really important," Lucy purred, putting her arms around Karl's neck. She let her blue eyes gaze into Karl's.

Karl tried to concentrate, but found that he couldn't. What was he so concerned about?

"You look a little…blank, Mr. Markham," Lucy said. "Is anything wrong?"

Karl tried to think again, trying to remember if he had told her his last name, but it was so bloody hard. He settled for shaking his head.

"Maybe a cool glass of water will fix you up," Lucy said, pulling away. She grabbed Karl's hand, commanding, "Come with me." Karl dumbly followed the blonde…and his eyes widened as he found himself in what looked like one of those ships out of a Science Fiction novel. It had small roundels, and the room he was in was enormous. The custodian thought a moment…did she just lead him into the bronze sculpture he had seen?

"I…I don't understand," Karl whispered, his voice shaking with blind terror.

"Relax, Mr. Markham," Lucy murmured. "When I am done with you, you won't remember a thing…for the rest of your miserable life!"

Lucy's blue eyes stared at Karl, boring through to the very core of his being. "I need your body," she said, "lock, stock, and barrel, and with your lowly status, as well as your lack of family and friends, you won't be missed…the perfect host!" Lucy laughed. Karl thought he'd never heard such an evil laugh on a human before.

"Wha—" Karl started, then felt his mind slipping away.

"See, this one's adequate, and I fancied being a woman for a time, but I wish to return to being a man," she told him. Karl caught a glimpse of a small tattoo with an elaborate symbol on her arm. It was in the shape of what looked like a half-griffin; half-dragon.

Karl tried to turn, tried to escape the penetrating gaze of the woman standing before him, but he couldn't. He sank to the floor, moaning, feeling such pain in his head. "Oh, don't look so distressed, Karl," Lucy advised, feeling her female form start to disappear. "We really will be joined at the hip…and everywhere else! Of course, you won't know about our joining in a moment," she said, running her hands along her rapidly vanishing female sides.

"Consider it a great honor…" she said reverently, then, as she felt her voice change, she/he said in a deeper male voice, "to be taken over by the Master!"

The man that had been Karl Markham, janitor and custodian, laughed, going to his bedroom and staring in the mirror. There was no image of the Karl Markham this body had known. All the Master saw was his cruel aura reflected in the glass; the foolish human was totally destroyed. He raised his hand in a silent toast as he realized he had places to go, things to do…and one powerful enemy to destroy.

He sank down on his bed, pushing a button on the night stand beside the cherry wood colored headboard. A screen, which was no wider than an inch, slid up from a slot on the stand. A girl, who slightly resembled the Master when he had Tremas', the Keeper of Traken's body, appeared.

"Hello, Father…or is it Mother, still?" She teased.

"The takeover was successful," the Master said in a cruel voice which sounded like Karl's, but was less gruff, and more refined. "Did you get the stratagem for crossing into the other universe? The one with the peace conferences on Earth that we viewed?"

"Universe 11002 will be visible and we will be able to cross successfully in 57 Earth minutes," the female voice assured the evil Time Lord. "I will join you in London there."

"Excellent," the Master said, smiling evilly.

"But why that universe, Father?" the girl asked.

"Because this one has lost its flavor for me," the Master answered truthfully. "Besides, with its vulnerable state, its security in a shambles, and with no one to defend it, that Earth of 2037 will be easy to conquer!"

The girl cut to the heart of the matter with her next comment, saying, "You just don't want to tangle with the Doctor again!"

The Master's eyes blazed with hatred as he snarled, "you are NEVER to mention his name again…do I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

The girl blanched as she apologized in a meek voice: "sorry, Father."

The Master smiled again, saying, "Quite all right, my child. You will learn, and you will rule along side me. And, this time, the Doctor will not impede my takeover of Earth. Together, we will behold it's transformation into New Gallifrey, and every human will either join us in the new order, or die painfully!" The girl's image vanished from the screen. He poured himself a drink from the mini bar beside his bed and savored the taste of the alien brandy as he contemplated his next move.

THE END

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