A/N: And here's the second half of the story. ^_^ There's a bit more violence and swearing in this one, as well as just the Master being creepy. Well, creepier.
Completely Different, Mafkeesje, The Master Of All Matter – Thanks! I'm so glad you're all enjoying it! ^_^
Grumpr – Like most people, the Doctor occasionally looks back at the things he wore in his youth and wonders, "… What was I thinking?" XD Now, the Master actually has fashion sense; he just chooses not to use it for the most part.
Mabudachi-trio – You know, if you think about it, the Master would almost fit in with the Cullens. o.O Fast? Check. Cold? In more ways than one. Ancient? For sure. (Mostly) reformed people-eater? Yep. All he's missing is the sparkles! XD
Raven-Dragonlady84 – Maaaaybe. ;) I couldn't resist bringing in a little of Sam Tyler. ^^ Though the Master won't exactly read the thief his rights when he catches him…
don't-call-me-koschei – Aww, thank you so much! 8D Oh dear - I hope you haven't exploded while waiting for this to be posted. 0.0
GuesssWho – Well, he is trying to be good. How well he succeeds is open to interpretation. X3
JimandSteve – There's definitely a dash of Sam Tyler in there. ^^ Ten did seem to lick anything he could get his hands on – doors, electronics, sand, human blood…
RavenAorla – I do wonder what it looks like inside a dimensionally transcendental pocket – I imagine there would be a large amount of random knickknacks, string, lint and a few lost civilizations here and there.
bunyipbabe – Thank you! He is cute in his insane way, isn't he? ^_^ And he knows it. And seeing as his usual tactics of getting power over people (e.g. hitting them) don't seem to work on Amy, he's willing to try out the charm approach. ;)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all related content and characters belong to the BBC; no infringement is intended.
Following the thief's trail, the Master raced down the alley and skidded around the corner into the next street, which was little more than another alley itself, narrow and edged with a high brick wall along one side. In a doorway halfway down the block of grey buildings, he spied a burly young man digging through a brown purse and paused briefly to savour the feeling of getting his prey in sight before stalking slowly forward. Drums or no, he still loved a hunt.
The thief's head jerked up from the bag at the sound of the Master's approaching steps, and as soon as he saw the Time Lord's eyes were fixed upon him he bolted up the street. The Master chuckled and jogged after him, already knowing that he was faster than the much larger human but willing to prolong the chase a little longer. He drew in a slow deep breath, noting with interest and a pang of hunger that he could smell fish and chips cooking nearby – he'd have to come back this way for a snack later on. Ahead of him, the thief swerved to one side of the street and scaled a stack of broken packing crates that were piled against the wall, using the extra height to leap up and reach the top of the wall so he could clamber over it. He looked back at the Master and smirked, kicking the wooden crates away from the wall with one foot, and called out, "See yeh, nancy boy," before swinging down to the other side, his footsteps echoing through the narrow street as he continued running down the alley beyond the wall.
Without slowing or hesitating, the Master ran straight at the wall and launched himself upward, catching the top and easily pulling himself up in one smooth movement. He crouched briefly at the top, watching the running man with a grin, and then leapt forward off the wall and landed in a full-out run, his gait barely faltering as he hit the pavement. The thief looked back in surprise and disbelief when he heard the Master's boots strike the ground, and then fear flickered over his face as he realized just how fast the Master was compared to him. He started running in earnest, panting at the exertion, but within seconds the alien had reached him and pounced, catching the human around the midsection and knocking him forcefully to the ground.
The thief twisted around in his grip and tried to strike the smaller man with the purse, and the Master released him and jumped back into a partial crouch, his eyes glittering with anticipation as he watched the human struggle back to his feet and start running again. Before the man could take more than three steps, the Time Lord leapt at him and threw him down, cuffing him hard over the head with one hand and taking a pace back again, waiting intently for the thief's next move. The man cursed and dropped the purse, scrambling back up and stepping backward away from the Master with his fists in front of him. The Master grinned even wider and moved slowly forward, his body tensed, and the instant the thief glanced behind him with the intention of making a break for it the alien darted forward and seized him, spinning the man roughly around before slamming his body down hard on the road face first. Giving the man another slap across the back of the head for good measure, the Master stepped away from him again and crouched on his haunches, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his chin on his folded hands with a relaxed smile.
The thief rolled on to his back and lay gasping for breath, his nose bleeding, and stared at the Master disbelievingly. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled, trying to scoot backward with his hands while wiping his face against his shoulder.
"Oh, more than you could even imagine," the Time Lord answered cheerfully, rising and stalking toward him again. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, the pounding of his hearts a pale imitation of the old four-beat rhythm that was burned into his mind, but it was enough to bring some of the old feeling back, some of that crazed madness the drums had always brought out in him. It must have shown on his face, because the human cowered away with widening eyes and raised one hand in meagre defence as the Master approached.
"No! Stay back!" The man scrabbled at the pavement, trying to gain enough purchase to stand, but the Master dashed forward and took firm grip of the thief's curly hair, hauling the shrieking man up to his feet and wrapping his other arm around his throat. "Let me go; please, just let me go!" the man begged, clawing at the Time Lord's arm. "I'll give you anything you want, anything, just don't kill me! What do you want – money? Drugs? Whatever you want, just say! I got a lot of mates, too – tough blokes, they are! Real mean bastards, and you wouldn't want 'em after you, 'cause they'd have you dead in a ditch before the day was out, so you just let me go and – urk!"
The Master sighed dramatically as the thief fought to breathe around his abruptly tightened grip. "Humans. You do always have to prattle on, don't you. Do you seriously think you can intimidate me, you pathetic little ape? I'd kill you now if I thought anyone would actually come after me to avenge you. It would make for some good sport, killing them – it might even keep me entertained while I'm forced to hang around this wretched planet. I'm tempted to kill you anyway, so very tempted." He gripped the man's head and brought his mouth to the man's ear, whispering viciously, "I'm hungry, so very hungry. It's been ages since I've had a proper meat meal, months, and there's a lot of meat on you. And I do so love human flesh. Bit of a bad habit, I suppose, but…" He shrugged without slackening his hold. "Well. Nobody's perfect."
By this point the thief was blubbering, snot and tears mixed with the blood on his face, and the Master let go of him with a rough shove and stepped back with a disgusted sneer. The man collapsed to his knees, still sobbing, and made no attempt to escape, to the Master's mild disappointment. After a minute, the Master nudged him none too gently in the ribs with the toe of his boot. "Get up. And pick up the bag," he ordered, and the shaking thief crawled over to where he had dropped the purse and slowly took hold of its strap before rising to his feet with a little further assistance from the Master's boot. Once up, he stood trembling and sniffling with the bag in a white-knuckled death grip, not daring to look at the Master. "Good boy," the Time Lord said sweetly. "Now, off we go, walkies!" He prodded the cowed man with one finger, a bright grin on his face, and the thief shuffled in the direction indicated with the Master strolling casually behind him.
"- and that was how I determined that it was A-positive," the Doctor was saying to Amy, who was standing with crossed arms and a skeptical expression. "Really, when it comes to in-the-field analysis, taste beats out just about any other sense with its range of usefulness."
"I still say it's just plain disgusting when you chew stuff up and spit it out like that," Amy insisted. "That's one of my main memories of you, y'know, from when I was little: you spitting food all over the place."
"Beans are evil," the Doctor said firmly. "I stand by my actions." He paused and held up a hand to shush Amy's reply, listening carefully. "Also, I believe there's someone coming." He stood up from the bin he'd been sitting on, absently brushing off his trousers, and Amy drew up to his side and followed his gaze curiously. Sure enough, a man holding a brown purse appeared around the corner, the Master stalking after him in a particularly disturbing fashion, and the Doctor delightedly called, "Ah, good man!" as the two approached.
The woman shrieked and pointed as they came nearer, saying, "That's him! That's the one right there, the ruddy good-for-nothing!" and marched up to the thief. "You give me that back!" she demanded, snatching the bag out of his unresisting hands. "Stealing from an honest woman yet – I've a mind to have my man give you a good thrashing and all."
The thief whimpered and gave the Master a terrified look of submission, and the Time Lord smiled at him brightly and cocked his head at the man. "What should be done with him, Doctor?" he asked, his dark eyes not leaving the thief's face.
"Hmm? Oh… well, I suppose we should let him go, really. From the looks of it you've already given him more punishment than the crime truly deserves." Ignoring the woman's squawk of protest at the suggestion, the Doctor shook his finger sternly at the thief and said, "Let this be a lesson to you about the perils of a life of crime. I hope you'll do the right thing and decide to live honestly from now on. Will you?"
Sniffling and wiping various effluents from his face, the man nodded earnestly, but the Master put his hands on the man's shoulders sharply and stood up on his toes to speak directly into his ear, saying, "Now, now, use your words. My friend wants an answer, and I think you have something you'd like to say to the good lady as well. We must be polite, now, mustn't we?"
After gulping for a few seconds and quivering, the thief nodded again but quickly cut the action short at a warning sound from the Master. "Y-yes, sir," he stammered, shrinking away from the Master. "Yes, sir, I will, sir, I promise, sir, just please let me go. And, uh, I'm sorry, ma'am, I really, really am. I, uh, I hope the bag is okay. Sorry if I, um, got blood on it or anything."
"Good boy," said the Master, patting him friendlily on the shoulder and making the man cringe in terror. "Run along now." The thief looked at him uncertainly, and then at the open street, and back again. "Go on, run," the Time Lord repeated with a smile. "Run!" That was all the encouragement the man needed, and he took to his heels and fled in sheer panic, stumbling on occasion as he threw frightened glances back over his shoulder to see if the Master was chasing him. The Master laughed and clapped his hands delightedly as he watched the fleeing thief. "Just look at him go, eh?" he said gleefully. "That's the fastest he's run yet. Are you sure I shouldn't go catch him again?"
"Quite sure," the Doctor said firmly. "I don't want you to go getting yourself into trouble your first day back on Earth. I'm sure he's learnt his lesson from this anyway." He smiled and spun on his heel to face the woman, who clutched her bag and gave him a dubious look, and he extended his hand to her, beaming. When she didn't move to take it, he simply leant forward and grabbed her free hand, shaking it warmly. "A very good day to you, ma'am – I suspect you'll have no further trouble from that gentleman." The woman pulled her hand back the second he released it and hurried up the steps into her house while eying the group with alarmed bewilderment, and the door closed firmly behind her with a click as the lock was turned. "So, now," the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "You…" The brown-haired Time Lord twisted around quickly to point at the Master with a slight sly smile. "You called me your friend. I distinctly heard you say it."
The Master sniffed and turned his head away with a slightly studied indifference. "It flowed better than 'this annoying bow-tied bow-legged twerp who I can't seem to be rid of'. Can we go now? I'm starving and I'm sure I smelled a chip shop back there."
After a brief conference, it was agreed that chips sounded like an excellent idea for lunch, and the small group was soon seated on the concrete steps of a stately if run-down old building, holding paper baskets of battered fish and fresh chips on their laps. Naturally the Master perched himself on the step above the one everyone else had chosen, his boots between Amy and the Doctor, and he tore into his fish while the others ate at a more sedate pace. The Doctor, after munching down several chips, picked up his fish and took a large bite, but after a couple of chomps his face twisted with a revolted expression and he spat the half-chewed wad of sole and batter out on the pavement.
"Ugh, please!" Amy groaned. "Don't do that in public – you're embarrassing. What's wrong with it, anyway; you like fish."
"I like fish custard," the Doctor corrected. "This is a disgusting abomination that merely masquerades as something edible." He drew his arm back in preparation of hurling the fish away, but before he could do so the Master caught hold of his hand with a growl and snatched the fillet out of it, dropping it into his own tray. The Doctor gave him an anxious look, eying the fish like it might attack at any moment, and the Master pointedly picked up the offending piece of fish and bit a sizable chunk off of it.
"There's nothing at all wrong with it," the Master said irritably as he chewed. "And there's no call to go spitting out perfectly good food." He snaked his free hand down to grab the Doctor's second piece of fish out of the basket where it had been laying untouched and, as soon as he had polished off the first piece, he shoved the entire second into his mouth and swallowed it whole, not even bothering to chew.
Amy stared at him in revolted fascination. "How can you eat like that? Don't you breathe when you eat?" she asked.
The Master held up a pausing finger, waiting for the food to reach his stomach, and once his throat was free again he said simply, "No." He took his last piece of fish out of his basket and gave the tray a light shake, gazing dispassionately at the chips within it before holding the basket out toward the Doctor. "D'you want these?"
The Doctor grinned and took the tray, saying, "Oooh, chips! I like the chips," and he carefully balanced both baskets on his knees, alternating between the two as he sampled chips from each. Amy shook her head with a light snort but said nothing aloud. They make a proper pair, she thought with amusement. The Doctor eats almost nothing, the Master eats almost everything, and what one doesn't like, the other does. She turned to glance back at the Master and started with shock to find that he was practically hanging over her shoulder, staring fixedly at her fish fillets.
When eying the fish failed to make it teleport into his stomach, the Master instead turned his gaze to Amy and asked, "Are you going to eat that?" He followed the question with a beseeching look and melting hazel eyes that would have been more at home on a lost spaniel than a psychopathic alien – the overall effect was a bit like a Dalek being winsome, somewhere between endearing and terrifying.
Perplexed and just a little bit alarmed, Amy shifted away from him and tried her best to ignore his hovering. Unfortunately, he had a way of being very much there even when she was trying to pretend that he wasn't, as if there was a reversed perception filter that unavoidably drew attention to him rather than making him disappear as she wished him to. She gave a short inward sigh of frustration – she had thought that she'd already endured all of the Master's methods of being annoying, and yet here he seemed to have discovered a new one. Imitating an orphaned kitten wasn't exactly something she would have expected from him, but she had already noticed that the Master didn't have much pride when it came to food and, much to Amy's self-disgust, she couldn't deny that his new tactic was starting to get to her. For all that she disliked him, the Master was capable of being charming when he wasn't being insane. It didn't help that he still looked half-starved from his time stranded on the outpost, his gauntness made even more evident by the light shirt and jacket he was wearing in place of the bulky black hoodie.
Resisting the urge to give in, Amy picked up her half-eaten piece of fish and took a deliberate bite out of it, and then a second mouthful to finish it off. Still chewing, she raised the remaining fillet up and gave the Master what was meant to be a disdainful look, though it was marred somewhat by her cheeks being crammed full of food. He tilted his head winningly, and Amy felt her resolve crumble.
"Oh, for…" she said in exasperation, rolling her eyes, but she handed her fish over to him with a huff, and the victorious Master sat back with his prize and a satisfied smirk, instantly dropping the cute act. "No need to be so overflowing with gratitude," she muttered, glowering at him. "How big is your stomach, anyway?"
"What? I worked up an appetite," he said glibly between bites.
"You've eaten more than all three of us put together!" Amy complained. The Master didn't reply, merely licking off his fingers and then the wrappers the fish had been served in, and Amy huffed again. Still, she decided with a sigh, I guess it's better to encourage him for acting at least marginally normal for a change. If doing an Oliver Twist impression counts as normal.
Finishing off the last traces of meat from the empty wrappers, the Master gazed at them for a moment with a disgruntled expression before glancing at his companions. "Any fish left?"
The Doctor pointed across to Rory, saying, "He still has some; don't you, Rory?"
Rory huddled over his fish basket possessively and glared at the Doctor. "I'm not giving him my lunch," he said indignantly. "If he wants more, he can go buy his own instead of scrounging off everyone else."
"Eugh, I wouldn't eat after him anyway," the Master said with a look of distaste at Rory before leaning forward to snag some chips out of one of the Doctor's trays. "What if he's contagious?" Amy scowled at him and slapped him on the shin with the back of her hand in reprimand, but the alien was unfazed by it, merely giving her a light sideways kick to the leg with his boot and continuing with his stolen meal. The Doctor gave them both a warning look, but then, once it became apparent that neither was planning any further violence, he relaxed and returned to his food.
As the four carried on with their meals in comfortable silence, it occurred to Amy that the Master seemed in a much brighter mood, at least compared to his usual sour nature. The opportunity to inflict bodily harm on a terrified victim had apparently done him some good, and he was being almost sociable for a change. Well, at least he's finally doing something useful instead of just being a pain, she thought. The memory of the young man's bleeding face came to her, and she grimaced slightly. Not that beating up people is something I'm too happy about him doing, or about the Doctor letting him do. And going on what the Master's like, that guy probably got off easy. The Doctor had to have known what could happen, sending the Master after him like that, but he did it anyway…
Her reverie was interrupted by the light scratching sound of chips rolling across paper as the Master slipped her tray off of her lap and up to his own. "Oi!" she said indignantly, grabbing the edge of the paper. "Give that back! Eat your own chips, why don't you?"
"I was nice and shared my chips with the Doctor, so you should be nice and share yours with me," the Master said reasonably, tugging the tray back.
"That's not how sharing works! Just because you gave something away doesn't mean you can steal it from someone else," Amy insisted, trying to pry his hand away from her stolen lunch. She paused and gave him a mischievous smirk. "Didn't the Teletubbies teach you anything?"
He shrugged and tightened his grip on the paper. "I don't watch it for its moral values."
"Obviously. Now gimme my chips back!" As Amy fought with the Master to reclaim her food, she glanced at the Doctor in hopes of support and realized that he was completely ignoring the struggle, instead chatting around them with Rory as if battles over chips were perfectly normal. Then again, 'normal' was a difficult thing to define when one lived in a time traveling police box with a pair of aliens, so perhaps it wasn't such an unusual thing relative to their version of normality.
Taking advantage of her brief distraction, the Master swept the chips out of the tray and into his lap, and Amy dropped the emptied tray and sat back crossly, her irritation only slightly eased by Rory offering her his remaining chips. She took the proffered basket and glared over her shoulder at the alien, who responded by waggling a chip tauntingly at her with an impish grin. Amy rolled her eyes at his childishness and elbowed him lightly on the knee, but she couldn't hold back a small amused smile and had to turn away quickly to hide it. It was unusual for him to be so playful, at least in any way that didn't involve doing horrible things to people, and it made a nice change to see his eyes bright with good humour instead of malice.
As she finished off Rory's chips, she mulled over her thoughts on normality a little more, and after a moment she realized with a thoughtful frown that she'd included the Master in her mental summation of normal TARDIS life. She hadn't expected to become used to him any time soon, and yet somehow he was starting to feel right, no longer just a temporary and rather unwelcome visitor. In the two weeks since they had picked him up, the Master had definitely become calmer around them, and despite the frequent shows of hostility and implied future violence, his threats seemed more like afterthoughts, things he had to remind himself to do rather than the sole focus of his life they had been when he first arrived. While it would doubtless be of little comfort to Rory, being the Master's favourite victim, the alien was settling in. He was abrasive, obnoxious and generally insufferable but, whether they liked it or not, the Master was becoming a part of their rather odd family. And maybe, just maybe, that was all right.