Sorry this chapter's so short. And yes, the Doctor may be OOC, but I think there were a lot of unresolved issues from The Last of the Time Lords that needed to be addressed. So there you go.
Chapter Four
"Master," the Doctor said once he had found his voice. He flashed a crooked smile. "You're looking . . . young."
"Yeah. Apparently I now have an American accent. What's up with that? Then again—"
"Bit of a dodgy process," the Doctor finished. "What are you doing here?"
"Had to turn human to hide from relatives of the Family, and my TARDIS landed here. You?"
"Found Rose—again—and something drew my TARDIS here. Still don't know what. Then when we heard a teacher had gone missing . . ." The Doctor shrugged.
"Mmm. So much for your song ending, Doctor. Not that I mind, 'course. This regeneration of yours is—how did that bitchy trampoline put it?—slim and a little bit foxy."
The Doctor groaned. "Really? You had to bring that up?"
"Well . . ."
"Um, sorry," Scott spoke up, confusion apparent. "You know him," he said, pointing from the Master to the Doctor, "he knows you," back again, "and apparently everyone in here is okay with this? Did I miss something?"
"Never mind that," said Isaac. "What the hell is going on?"
The two Time Lords exchanged glances before looking back at the werewolves. "Weeelll," the Doctor said, "it's complicated, very complicated, and right now really isn't the best time."
"Oh, come off it," said the Master. "When has that ever stopped you? More to the point, when's it ever stopped me?"
"Meh." The other Time Lord's voice was more of a squeak on that syllable. "Fair enough. The Master race for one, then you brought back Gallifrey and our insane Lord President Rassilon. Do I have to mention the Year That Never Was?"
"Thank me later."
"You made me old and imprisoned me in a tent for a year!"
The Master shrugged. "Like I said: Thank me later."
"And don't even get me started on that horrid Scissor Sisters song. You'd've been better off going with Twisted Sister!"
"Oi!" The Master pulled a face. "Um, no. I'll stick with that one song, thanks. Besides, it's my jam!"
"It got old real fast after listening to it for a bloody year. I think you were the only one actually enjoying yourself. But that's not the point. You left me! Again!" The Doctor had come out from behind the desk by now and he jabbed a finger in the Master's sternum. "Your wife shot you in one of your hearts. You could have regenerated, but oh no, you just had to be the winner in our little game, didn't you?" Anger flared in those dark eyes, turning them almost black.
"And there's the Oncoming Storm," the Master murmured so that only the Doctor and the two werewolves in the classroom could hear. "Come on, Doctor. Show the class your true nature, hhm?" He smirked as the Doctor suddenly took a few steps back. "Oh, did we forget class is in session? You really should watch that tongue of yours. Might land you in trouble, though we could give 'em one hell of a chemistry lesson, eh?"
"Hold up," Scott said, "time out." He looked at each Time Lord in turn. "I repeat: What is going on here?"
"Shouldn't you actually be teaching us something?" Lydia put in, eyeing the Doctor with interest. (The Master rolled his eyes. Why couldn't any of his regenerations be that good-looking? On second thought . . . eww, no. Shagging a teenage human when he was as old as he was was just wrong. Didn't seem to stop the Doctor though, given how the renegade felt about Rose Tyler.)
The Doctor mouthed "Later" at Scott and Isaac and cleared his throat. "Um, yes. You lot never heard any of that, got it?" (Since most of the class was now staring at their sub and Stiles Stilinski, it was clear they weren't going to forget any of that anytime soon.) "Now, tetrahedral atoms—"
"Sorry, did you say Stiles had a wife?" some guy asked.
"And it sounds like someone has abandonment issues," Lydia quipped. She returned to filing her nails.
"Long story," the Doctor said, "and no, I don't."
"Oh, really?" the Master scoffed. "What was all that about coming with you in your—"
"Shut up, Kosechi," the Doctor hissed softly, using his name from when they were children at the Academy.
"Okay, Theta, but you started it."
"No, you did, and can we please get back to Chemistry?"
The class fell silent.
"Thank you. Now . . ."
As the Doctor droned on, the Master tuned out the other Time Lord and cast his gaze around the class. It landed on Lydia—hardly surprising, given Stiles had had a major crush on her. She was certainly an interesting one: she'd failed to turn when Peter had given her the Bite; her blood had raised said Alpha from the dead; she had transformed Jackson from the Kanima into a werewolf; and, somehow, she kept finding the new bodies, the darach's victims. The more he studied her personal timeline, the more engrossed he became . . . and that was dangerous. Like all Time Lords he saw the universe differently than humans, or even werewolves, and even moved in five-dimensional space. He could see everything: what could be, what should be, what must be, and what must not. And while he loved seeing the universe like that, he knew the Doctor viewed it as a curse.
Both of them were getting too young for this sort of thing.
Before he knew it, the dismissal bell was ringing. The rest of the class bolted for the door, but Isaac, Scott, and the Master lingered, waiting until the room was empty to approach the Doctor.
The Master hid a smirk when the Doctor looked up and said, "Why is it whenever something happens, it's always you three?"
Scott stared. "Is that a Harry Potter reference?"
"No, it's Teen Wolf. Of course it's Harry Potter!"
"Careful, Doctor," the Master snarked. "Your sass is showing."
The Doctor glared at him before calling him something very offensive in their native tongue.
"Aw. That's not nice."
"I'm rude and not ginger this time round. Tell me what you're doing here, and if I don't like it I will stop you. I used to have so much mercy. You get one warning. That was it."
Scott scoffed. "So you two are all-powerful Time Lords? More like five-year-olds."
"Don't I know it," piped up a feminine, English voice from the doorway. The Master, Scott, and Isaac whirled around to see a blond woman, early twenties, standing there. She gave them a little tongue-in-cheek smile (Down, boys, the Master thought) and tilted her head, brown eyes landing on the Doctor. "So, who's this? New friends of yours?"
The Master felt a small spark of amusement when the Doctor was scrambling for words, but he pushed it down. There was more at stake here than his own desires, after all.
Who was he trying to kid? That had never stopped him before.
"Rose," the Doctor said, "this is . . ."
"Scott," said the Alpha.
"Isaac."
"Stiles. But you can call me the Master." His cheeky smile faded at the hard look in the Doctor's eyes. "Sorry. Just Stiles, then." He hated having to use that human name, but it was better that Rose didn't know he was a Time Lord. Not now, at least.
Isaac's head tilted to the side as he studied Rose, eyes flaring gold for a brief second. "There's something of the wolf about you. You burnt like the sun, but we only require the moon."
"What are you?" Scott added. "The bad wolf?"
The Master didn't miss the way the Doctor and Rose flinched at that, nor the fact that it was the werewolves who sensed it in Rose. Come to think of it, so could he. There was a little bit of heuron energy, remnants of the Time Vortex . . .
Then the teen wolves snapped out of it and said in unison, "Sorry, did we say something?"
Even the Master had to admit, that gave him chills.
Maybe there was something more going on here than just the Alpha pack and the darach.
If so . . . what was he going to do about it?
