The TARDIS was getting crowded.
Since the Master had joined the Doctor involuntarily on his endless, inane journey he'd met more humans than he cared to remember and it seemed that more than a few of them had moved in to the Doctor's dilapidated machine. The first few he hadn't minded so much. They stayed away from him as much as possible and he was able to do as he pleased without too much interference. But this latest addition was more than he could bear. At least before her he'd had the distraction of shagging the Doctor at every possible opportunity.
They'd been in bed, the Doctor writhing and gasping underneath him when the cloister bell had begun to sound, both so mindless with need they'd barely heard it. He'd held the Doctor down firmly and brought them both to climax before acknowledging that they needed to get up and see what was causing the alarm. That was the last time the Doctor had been in his bed, the last time he'd held the other Time Lord in his arms, made him shiver with need and beg for release. And oh how he missed it.
The drums had been growing steadily louder since that night, his need for violence warring with his desire for the Doctor. The living situation in the TARDIS combined with the Doctor's utter dismissal of him had angered him beyond comprehension and he was becoming increasingly aware that it was time to enact his plan, to take back control, to put the Doctor back where he belonged.
He'd hated Rose on sight. But then, he'd hated her even before he'd seen her, hated how she still held control over the Doctor even when she was in a different universe. He'd watched him pine for her and listened to him cry out her name in the throes of passion.
And then she had returned. As he had watched them run towards each other he had felt an overwhelming urge to end Ms. Tyler's life abruptly and painfully but he had known that he would lose the Doctor forever if he did that. And so he had reined in his self control and watched the reunion with disgust on his face and ice in his hearts. In that moment he'd begun to plan for the day when he could do away with the annoying human for good.
Because he'd practiced self-control he'd endured weeks of hell on board the TARDIS. Weeks of watching them look longingly into each other's eyes, weeks of being ignored by the one he wanted to control more than any other, weeks of lying awake at night knowing that the Doctor was with her, loving her, inside her, while he tossed and turned and grew frustrated with unspent need.
But now was the time to act. He was so ready to be finished with this group of happy homemakers. So ready to have the Doctor back where he belonged. The Master finished his final calculations and moved cautiously through the darkened halls of the TARDIS towards the console room. The black gloves he'd slipped on had been hand made for him on a recent planetary excursion. He'd had to pay handsomely but he'd had them treated with a specialized compound that would prevent the cantankerous machine from sensing which Time Lord caressed her keys. The isomorphic controls would still prevent the TARDIS from responding to his coordinates but simple orders would be obeyed.
Coordinates didn't matter right now anyway, his chief concern was getting back what was his. His fingers flew across the keyboard quickly and at his command a copper colored box slid out from underneath the controls. He pulled a key from his pocket, a key he'd acquired earlier in the day when he'd searched the Doctor's room.
The hidden box opened easily. Inside were assorted weapons gathered from far flung galaxies along with several items he recognized as the 21st century weapons of Captain Jack, his laser screwdriver was not immediately visible but was tucked away in the shimmering lining. He took it out carefully, inspecting it for any signs of tampering or abuse. He weighed it in his palm, adjusted the controls and tested the settings. He smiled broadly. It felt as if a missing piece of his body had been reattached. At last he felt that he could turn the tables on the Doctor, take control of this excruciating house party, maybe take over a planet or two and while he was at it he'd force that silly little blonde human out of the Doctor's bed, preferably vaporizing her in the process. He could barely contain his excitement as he thought about enacting his plan. He took a few more items from the weapons box and stuffed them in his pockets, thanking Rasilon that they were bigger on the inside and then he shut it tight and returned it to its hiding place.
The lights on the TARDIS console blinked, a message flashing across the screen in Gallifreyan symbols. The Master sneered at the screen, so the machine had known it was him. She was giving him a chance to put the weapons back and return to his room. If he didn't, she would warn the Doctor. He rolled his eyes, so she was going to play the tattletale and treat him like some errant schoolboy.
The Master laughed. "Do you honestly think I'm scared of him…of you? Do you really think he even cares anymore? He's forgotten about you the same way he's forgotten about me. If you're not blonde he just doesn't give a damn anymore."
The lights blinked angrily, the floor shook violently and the Master was knocked to the floor.
"Big mistake." He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed the mallet that hung from the controls. He swung hard, shattering the monitor. As glass rained down around his feet he telepathically connected with the rebellious machine, warning, threatening, daring her to go against him. The TARDIS sensed his unbalance, realized that with a few well placed whacks and some re-wiring he could send them all spinning into the void. Her lights dimmed in submission.
"Maybe you are smarter than you look."
The noise and the commotion woke Martha and sent her running to the console room. "Doctor! What's wrong?" But as she ran into the room it wasn't the Doctor that greeted her. Her eyes widened in alarm as she took in the destruction. She turned to run. Her only thought to warn the Doctor. She heard him behind her, chasing her. The Master caught her in a headlock before she made it out of the room.
"Why Miss Jones, I'm offended. Don't you enjoy my company anymore?"
She clawed at his suit coat and kicked at his legs trying to free herself, "I've never enjoyed your company you twisted, psychopathic…"
"Shhhhh," the Master warned as he tightened his grip and cut off her air.
"What are you doing?" Martha gasped out in a hushed panic.
"Why Martha Jones, you surprise me, you're usually so insightful. Let me give you a little clue, I'm taking over this little pleasure cruise."
Deftly he fished a taser out of his pocket. In one swift movement Martha Jones went limp in his arms.