I'm not quite sure how long it's been since I've read the books. I'm sure how close I'm getting to keeping the characters IC, although not many Tokyo Mew Mew characters in this chapter. I'm not even sure whether anyone's going to like this – well, the Master turning into a cat did happen once apparently, but still this is probably one of the weirdest ideas that ever sprang to mind. On the way to a Doctor Who Experience, in fact, with JinxStar, in a fez. Being the only teenager in a fez apart from a five-year-old boy is a little embarrassing in the middle of London...anyway, I'm rambling. I really do hope you like it.
When Kish met up with Pai and Tart four months after returning to their home planet, newly transformed thanks to the power of the Mew Aqua, he had no idea that he was headed back to Earth again. The other two were already there when he wandered into the clearing: Tart, lazily sprawled across the ground soaking up the last rays of sun; and Pai, standing stoically under a tree almost like he was trying to avoid it. Kish smirked, but not unkindly. Four months and they hadn't changed a bit.
"Late, Kish? You haven't changed a bit have you?" Pai said dryly, unknowingly voicing exactly what Kish had been thinking. He had to agree; Pai was still trying to take immediate control over the situation.
"Neither have you, Pai. You're just as irritating as I remember, if not more."
Pai's mouth twitched. "Touché. Are you missing your little cat?" The answering growl made him smile. "I think that answers everything."
Tart laughed, eyes flickering between closed eyelids. "Oh lighten up guys – Pai, tell him why we're here!"
Pai nodded stiffly. "To cut to the chase, Kish, you might have the opportunity to see your little cat again. We've got a new assignment on planet Earth, and this time we're going to need a lot more than just Chimera Animals."
"Oh? And why exactly is this assignment?"
"Have you heard the legends about the Master?"
Kish stiffened. "What? We're after him?"
Pai nodded. "Yes. Many years ago, it is said that a Time Lord, insanely angry at the universe and everything in it, caused a series of catastrophes that forced us to leave Earth in fear of being wiped out ourselves. We've never proved it for sure, but all the evidence leads straight to the Master. Because of this our species have been on a constant lookout for the man in order to bring him to appropriate justice."
"He means destroy him." Tart explained further.
Kish nodded slowly. "So he's been sighted I guess...but why are we looking for him on Earth? I mean, he hates the planet, it's obvious to everyone! Is he causing some kind of trail of destruction we can follow and catch him that way?"
"No. You see, we have no idea where he is, and in his rather...ahem...unstable form it will be difficult to track him down."
"He's unstable anyway – how difficult is it to track down a madman?"
"Very difficult indeed, especially since he's not completely a 'madman' anymore..."
A Week Earlier
The cat never knew what hit it, and it didn't particularly care either. One second it had been cleaning itself happily enough for a cat, the next the dustbin it had been lying on had been knocked over by the man who had materialised out of thin air and landed right on it. The cat disliked having its personal bubble invaded, and disliked even more having its tail sat on, so it did exactly what it did best when large threatening objects came close: it slashed at it with its claws and fled down the alley, its lithe frame disappearing from sight in a matter of seconds.
The Master swore colourfully in Gallifreyan and examined the long gash the damn thing had made in his skinny jeans. It was bleeding quite badly, but he was certain that the wound was not life threatening. Trying to walk on it was still agony; he stumbled and swore, long fingers tapping out a beat on the crumbling brickwork. He'd never been a cat man, always preferring dogs marginally more, for the reason that they were more likely to stay loyal and less likely to try to claw you. Wincing, he wondered how much further he had to walk: the teleport stolen from UNIT had become unreliable and even on a damaged leg he wasn't going to risk materialising in a wall or a metre off a cliff. As it turned out he wasn't that far off after all. A door opened in the wall and a head poked out, nearly knocking the Master square in the forehead. "Dude? Is that you?"
"Less of the dude business," The Master growled. "But yes, it's me."
"Man, you look AWFUL...what happened to your leg?"
"Just let me in you moron – and if you see a cat, let me know so I can shoot it."
"Cats are friendly creatures man; they don't hurt no-one without a reason."
"I beg to differ. Now in Rassilon's name let me in, and less of the man business too if you don't mind."
The other man sighed and walked back into the house. "Whatever you say dude, I'll just put the kettle on." The Master's fingers twitched impulsively to the pocket in his jeans where the laser screwdriver was kept, but refrained from using it. He needed this man and didn't have that much against him really; he made a habit of trying extremely hard not to kill old acquaintances that a) weren't the Doctor and b) hadn't tried to ruin his plans.
The kitchen just inside the door was warm and cosy. At least, at first glance it looked like a kitchen: mugs lined on the sideboard, coffee, tea and sugar in a shelf, an oven and a fridge. But then you noticed the stains on the threadbare rug, the acid burns on the tiles and the many glass bottles hissing steam up at the ceiling in many different colours and realised that this was actually a laboratory. The Master knew for a fact that frozen rats lived side-by-side with the milk and (ironically) cheese, after eating a snack a few years back and realising midway through that it'd had a tail. After that he'd decided that this was his old acquaintance's domain and left all eating and drinking needs for him to sort out.
Absalom Forrest was not a mad scientist by any means, but he was a bit of a hippie. He was born on the tree-planet Narsgoth and, finding his home planet boring, he left home as soon as he could and travelled a little before settling on Earth. The way humans treated the Earth was horrific – cutting down trees was pretty much illegal in Narsgoth – and he spent much of his time leading groups of like-minded people in marches et Citra while staying out of the limelight himself. An expert in Sciences, he moved to Tokyo with his wife and two children and claimed one room of their small home as a semi-laboratory, simply for the fun of it. In the day he wrote anonymous scientific rants for a small fee from the local rag.
Dust swirled from the ceiling as the two small children thumped their way upstairs, with a scolding mother behind them. The Master frowned and wiped his suit clean. Of all the places, the room under the stairs...he never knew why Absalom had ever decided to get married – HE would never saddle himself that way. When the two had first met they had got on like a house on fire (which it eventually did, thanks to a Molotov cocktail when they were denied service) but then the man had married and nothing seemed to connect them anymore. Still, they got on well: Absalom didn't interfere with any of the Master's plans and helped him out where possible, and the Master got him illegal ingredients and didn't try to kill him. A good arrangement, albeit a difficult one – especially when Absalom waxed lyrical about the many uses of tree bark.
"One sugar, no milk right?" Absalom sat at the table with two chipped mugs. The Master nodded and accepted his without a word of thanks, which Absalom didn't expect anyway. Blinking behind his rounded glasses, he watched the Master's face carefully as he drank. "Tea alright?"
The Master nodded. Absalom may be a greasy haired, gangly low-life, but Rassilon he made good tea. He'd never been able to replicate it. He sipped his slowly while Absalom downed it in one, and then adjusted his glasses.
"Now then, what can I do for you?"
"I'm being chased by aliens."
"I'm not surprised, you're broken at least three hundred laws in every galactic state."
"Well, this is different. You heard of the Cyniclons?"
Absalom brightened. "Do I know them? Dude, I've studied those guys for years! I even moved here to watch them in action – total eco-freaks, and you've gotta love the ears. It was fun watching them fight those...Tokyo Meow Meows? No, not that...Tokyo Mew Mews, that's it!"
The Master glared. "Can you let me get to the point, please?"
"Sure, whatever man."
"As I've said, I'm on the run from these aliens. I'm not quite sure what I've done to them, but I have a feeling that it'll come back to me once I – "
"Whoa, hold on," Absalom looked at him. "You're ON THE RUN? When has the Master run from anything?"
The Master ground his teeth. "If you don't shut up..."
"Geez, ok."
"It's not out of choice, believe me. I'm trying to keep a low profile so the Doctor can't track me down and make me his pet."
"Ah...so he doesn't know you escaped the Time Lock then?"
"Exactly. And I have no intention of being locked in the TARDIS for the rest of eternity."
"Fair dos. So what do you want me to do about it?"
"I need you to give me a cover, something powerful enough to help me fight these Cyniclons and to prevent the Doctor from picking me up."
Absalom grinned. "Dude, you could've come to me with something a little bit more challenging." He grabbed several different bottles and began to pour liberal amounts into a beaker. He pulled a few strands of the Master's hair out and added it to the mixture before stirring manically. The Master wasn't perturbed; this was Absalom's style, he never needed to measure things or consult books – he just did it and it worked perfectly every time. When Absalom pressed the murky, bubbling sludge into his hand however, he had serious doubts.
"Uh...what am I meant to do with this?"
"You drink it of course. Thought you'd have worked that out yourself, clever guy like you."
"Of course I knew that!" The Master snarled, feeling foolish. Absalom's lips twitched a little.
"Trust me dude, it tastes better than it looks."
"And it'll make me powerful?"
"More powerful than you could possibly imagine. Why, I'd bet good money you'd be able to take over the Earth and this time keep that Doctor in the cage." The Master smiled and clinked the beaker against Absalom's empty mug, then started drinking. Absalom nodded encouragingly. "That's it; drink it all up like a good boy."
The Master shot him a look, then drained the beaker and put it back down on the table top. He licked the residue off his lips. Absalom had been right about the taste – cherries, lemon and something else he couldn't quite place. He didn't have the time to figure out what it was though, because the next second his skin was on fire and there was a horrible twisting sensation in his guts. With difficulty he stood and tried to get to the sink to throw up whatever the hell he'd just drunk into it, but then he felt a last twinge and he was crouched on the floor, the ghastly sensation over almost as soon as it had started. Thank Rassilon; it must've just been some nasty side-effects. That was before he tried to stand and found he barely came off the ground at all. He tried to ask Absalom what had happened but all that came out was a rough mewling sound. He tried again. Exactly the same result.
Absalom's face came into view, peering down at him. Normally the Master stood a few inches taller to the lanky man, but right now Absalom looked like a giant – a rather worried giant at that. "Oh dear, this is NOT good." Irritated the Master tried to speak again, but all that came out was the mewling. Looking down at himself he realised he had black paws. And they were furry. With a horrible idea of what may have happened, the Master leapt up onto the low table and peered cautiously into the empty beaker. A small furry face, with huge green eyes and whiskers peered cautiously back.
"I'm a CAT?" He felt like swearing when all that happened was that he yowled and his ears flattened back on his head; he forcefully entered Absalom's mind, taking great care to hurt him. I'm a CAT?
"Sorry dude, I completely forgot. That cat DNA from when he cat scratched you must've tampered with the potion – still, there are worse things to be."
The Master hissed, back arching, tail ramrod straight. I'm a CAT, for Rassilon's sake! They're furry, and cute looking, and everything I don't want to be!
"Actually I think it's a nice look for you – you're always so evil all the time, it's nice to see your cute cuddly side for once."
STOP LAUGHING, YOU BASTARD! Reverse this NOW; I refuse to go around like a cat.
Absalom looked sheepish. "Well, that's gonna take quite a bit of time. On the plus side once your genetic pattern has calmed down a bit you'll change back to human – I mean Time Lord – for a couple of hours at roughly the same times each day."
I don't care about that, I want to be Time Lord permanently thanks very much. How long will it take?
"Roughly? Two or three months." Absalom only just ducked in time to avoid the Master's sudden leap at his face, claws unsheathed. He skittered across the floor, unable to properly stop himself from slamming into the fridge.
Two or three MONTHS? I REFUSE to be a cat for that long!
"You really don't have much choice in the matter I'm afraid." The Master yowled furiously as he was scooped up and held against the other man's chest. The action was extremely demeaning, especially when Absalom started stroking his head, but the cat side of him reacted well to it. Oh Rassilon, what had he done to deserve this? His mind instantly went into a replay of every foul deed he'd ever committed and he regretted asking the question.
"Now Master," Absalom said sternly as the Master tried to wriggle free. "This counter-mixture is going to take some time if I want to get it exactly right. All I need you to do is stay within the general area, and when the time comes I'll give you a mental bell and you can come back. It's definitely not ideal, but it's the best thing I can do man."
The Master wriggled again, looking behind him to look at his tail. He'd never really contemplated having a tail before, but he was surprised to find he didn't mind it that much. Perhaps his next regeneration could have a tail. He shook his head to put a stop these thoughts and invaded Absalom's head again. All right, I'll give it a go. Now put me down; if I wanted you to stroke me I'd've asked you to.
"Touché," Absalom chuckled, but he put the Master down anyway. The Master was grateful for that; it wasn't just demeaning for him to be held like that, it gave him an uncomfortable sense of powerlessness, which was what he always felt around the Doctor at some subconscious level. As soon as Absalom opened the door and let in the cooling night air the Master took off into the night without a second thought. Absalom watched him go with an odd smile on his lips. "Take care little Master, you're going to need it."
Before anyone says anything, this is NOT intended to be slashy. It looks it, but trust me it's not. Honest. DEFINITELY not...
Anyway, it'd be really helpful if you review and tell me what you like/don't like about this 'cos I've never written anything like this before and I'd love the help/support. Thanks.