A/N: Yikes, I really need to work on this more often.
Seven
It was Sunday. Ah, Sundays: usually held in high regard thanks to how many office-twats were able to use it to have a lie-in and sleep off whatever it was they did on Saturday night to make them forget they were, well, office-twats. Even Malcolm Tucker, who was considered at the very least an office-cunt, was attempting to use the morning for that very purpose, except his mobile had decided otherwise.
As the device began screeching the Commodores in tinny, shitastic tones, Malcolm rolled over in his bed and attempted to reach for it. He'd toss it across the room had it not been for who the ringtone belonged to, and after some fumbling he was finally able to pick it up and put it to his ear.
"This better be good, love," he mumbled sleepily. "I was about to get laid by Jane Leeves and I don't want to miss it."
"Let's talk about your wet dreams later—it's time to get to work," Kate replied. "I'm headed to the Mainframe right now and I think you better be there yourself."
Malcolm turned his head towards his alarm clock: 04:18. "Kate, it's ball-fuck early. Who's the cunt that decided to wake us up this fucking early in the morning?"
"His name is the Master and it doesn't look like the Doctor's anywhere in sight," she said. "Luckily for us, it only seems like one of his previous incarnations, one we've fought numerous times and know his methods. If it was a new face, you would have been called almost two hours ago."
"Whoever this Master is, he's gonna be fucking dead when I get done with him," he growled, throwing his sheets back. He'd been briefed on the Master before, in full detail, and between the information on him and the Doctor combined, Malcolm had decided he fucking hated Time Lords. Such illustrious dick-heads—it made him want to vomit.
Skipping the shower part of his normal routine, Malcolm dug around half-blind for his clothes. Trousers… no, trousers without the new brown sauce stain the previous night's steak happily provided him, a shirt that smelled acceptable, and a fleece jumper. Yes, good, he could deal with that at the early hour. He left the flat no more than ten minutes after he hung up the phone with Kate and half an hour after that he was walking into Mainframe UK, poster-boy for all beings sleep-deprived, over-worked, and caffeine-charged.
"Scarfy, status report," he muttered through his takeaway coffee as he approached an Osgood. Though she was not the one with the scarf this time (that Scarfy was nowhere in sight), she handed him her clipboard and shrugged almost nonchalantly as the molemen were manning their stations.
"Classic Master take-over-the-world gambit, except this one involves some lupine extraterrestrials and test cricket," she explained. Malcolm blinked heavily at her, unsure he heard correctly. "Yeah, I know—apparently he thinks it's 1971 out there, so he's roaming around in a Nehru coat and flared trousers."
"So this is what Saint Alistair and the lot dealt with back then? Cocksuckers got all the fun, didn't they?"
"I think you'd be hard pressed to find one of us other than Yates to have sucked a cock, sir," came a chuckle. Malcolm glanced over his shoulder and saw Captain Benton, one of the last remnants of the days when UNIT was little more than a laughingstock and not quietly shushed aside as "a necessary internationally-and-domestically-funded entity". The old soldier's hair was nearing snow-white and looked thinner than the PR man the way his uniform hung on him.
"I told you, Old Man, don't call me 'sir'—I'm an untitled civilian—now what are you doing here? Isn't it past your bedtime? The nurses know you cracked your way out of the care home?"
"I was on an evening shift, but things got out-of-hand to the point where I had to call Director Stewart in," Benton said with a grin. "I actually should have left four hours ago."
"Then fuck the fuck off and get some rest, get felt-up by an orderly, something that involves not being here."
"Now where's the fun in that?" Benton replied. It was then that Kate strutted into the atrium, a frown on her face as she stormed about, with Jac and the missing Scarfy trailing her.
"Benton! Why are you still on the premises?" she shouted from across the way. "Go home! You've done enough!"
"Not yet, Tiger," the old man smirked. "I'm sticking around until I can see that joker's face again. Call it 'being sentimental'."
"I call it 'lunacy'," Malcolm snarked. By then the others had reached them and he was being passed a series of folders.
"Here's the information you'll need for your press releases," Jac said as she went through her paperwork. She handed Malcolm the last of his things and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "We're off to bag the nutter now."
"Give 'im a fucking smack for wakin' me up this early," he replied. "A morning, day, and afternoon shift is no longer my idea of a normal stint at the office."
"It's not ideal for any of us, but here we are," Kate deadpanned. "Benton, since you're so eager to see your old friend, come with Jac and me. Osgoods, stay as you are. Malcolm, I want not a peep of this on the mid-morning newscasts, got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said before walking off. He went up the lift to his office, which was dark and quiet and decidedly devoid of Aparajita. Placing the folders on the table, Malcolm turned on his desk lamp and got straight to work, reading through the papers and tapping out excuses and half-truths on his laptop. Sure enough, he was able to shush the commotion before his personal assistant even walked into the room carrying a tray with two large coffees.
"Heard you got in a bit early, so a peace offering," Aparajita said, placing one of the takeaway cups on the table. He took it with silent thanks, draining a third of the cup in one go. "That beat?"
"They should have finished with this clown back before Wee Malcolm started getting sweaty and tight in the trousers staring at the mags the lads were passing around the bog," he scowled.
"That sounds gross," she grimaced.
"That sounds like Wee Rajit never had to deal with the clusterfuck that is when lads approach the onset of puberty," he replied after another draught of the sweet life-nectar. "Cousin keep you safely away from that?"
"Raj is still fairly protective, so yeah," she admitted. "Need me to do anything else?"
"Bring me a sacrificial intern every hour and I'll be fine," he joked half-heartedly. "Actually, can you get me Corporal Lethbridge-Stewart? He should be coming off his midnight soon, yeah?"
"If I call Security now, I might catch him before he leaves," she said, backing up and turning around towards her desk area. Five minutes later and Gordon came into the office looking rather confused.
"You wanted me, sir?"
"Again, it's Malcolm, and would you mind doing an errand for me?" the older man asked. "I'd sent Rajit, but I need her here in case that lunatic your mam just tag-and-bagged decides high-security prison isn't his cup of tea."
"Yeah, no problem," the young man smirked. "Nothing too dangerous, is it?"
"Going to a flat in a nice part of town doesn't sound too fucking dangerous," Malcolm replied. He took the key to his flat off the ring and handed it to Gordon, giving the instructions to his flat. "I need proper clothes—nothing's in my cupboard and the only reason I'm in these trousers is because they don't have fucking HP on them."
"Being woken up for work'll do that," Gordon said sympathetically. "Got anything over there I should worry about? A pet or a nosy neighbor or anything the like that might attack?"
"A niece, but she should be at class by the time you get there," Malcolm said. Gordon gave him a confused look and he couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. "Nah, she's your age and a grad student. Either she's going to attend class today or teach it—never can figure out which it is with her—being a workaholic's in the sodding family."
"Okay then; should be back soon." Gordon then left the office, with Aparajita sliding her chair into view soon as the lift doors shut.
"You sent Gordon to your place? Might as well be shouting after him to snog your poor niece while he's at it."
"If anything, she'd snog him, though I doubt it—she's gone most mornings when I get up," he shrugged. "Lad's got a good survival rate otherwise."
Aparajita cocked an eyebrow. "You setting up your niece with him because his mum has been avoiding you?"
"No," he scoffed. "I trust Lex to find her own beaus to snog and Kate has nothing to do with it."
"Are you surrre?" she asked, using her foot to propel herself into the office. There was a cheeky smirk on her face, prodding him into elaborating. "You and Brigadier-Director Stewart have been rather stand-offish lately…"
"We have not been stand-offish and you are going to take your nose and stick it elsewhere, because while it's in my business it's at risk to get chopped off and then what'll happen? You'll go paler than me and become a female fucking Voldemort, that's what."
"You're sour."
"Aparajita Khan, return to your post," he growled. His PA scowled and stood, rolling her chair back behind the wall and leaving him be. He didn't need this sort of flack from the coworker that he was supposed to work closest with, especially not this early in the morning with over four hours already clocked in. Malcolm stood and jammed his hands in his trouser pockets, storming towards the lift.
"Going for a walk," he growled as he walked past Aparajita.
"Do you want me to call when Gordon gets back?" she asked calmly.
"Yeah." He hit the button for the lift and waited patiently. A weight dropped in his gut and he knew he had to apologize, though doing so now would feel contrived. "Please."
"Not a problem—walk off some of that steam, okay?"
"Will do." The doors opened and he walked in. Malcolm stared at the lift buttons as he decided where to go. Dare he hit the one for the floor above?
Fuck it.
Half an hour of wandering the halls of Mainframe UK avoiding people that he'd rather not talk to, Malcolm found himself in the Raven Room, tinkering with one of the out-of-commission birds to calm his nerves. He'd always liked tinkering, even as a young lad. His mam always blamed him and his sister's tendency to take shit apart and fuck it all up on the fact their fathers were scientists. Which scientists, she never said, but her kids always took that as a good thing and never stopped despite their mother's insistence otherwise. Besides, politics had always felt like tinkering on a large scale, and it was something that comforted him no matter what.
As he soldered a circuit board with his pen, specs sitting on the tip of his nose, he heard the door open and shut. Malcolm didn't look up to see who it was, instead keeping his focus honed on the bird. The stool next to him moved and someone sat down. It wasn't until a whiff of perfume caught his nose did he know who it was that was there.
"Kate."
"Malcolm."
"Do you need something?"
She picked up part of a raven beak and studied it. "You know we have techs to do this, yeah?"
"Don't care," he muttered. "Always been good with this stuff."
"That doesn't matter—it's been too long since we properly talked," she said. "I only want to make sure we're on the same page here…"
"…which is…?"
"…that's what I need to know. What page are you on?" she wondered. Malcolm glanced over at Kate and saw her sitting there, back straight and shoulders square. She had her hair pulled back and in a blouse that looked cute on her. Yeah, he was aware enough to admit it: she looked fucking cute. He leaned towards her and pressed their lips together, pulling away to go back to work on the out-of-commission robot.
"That's the page I'm on," he elaborated, as if it hadn't been clear enough. "I'm surprised you don't have men tripping over themselves for a chance to be with you, 'cause you're one of the most bloody gorgeous women I've ever met, and that only covers how you handle yourself in a work emergency."
"Then how about dinner tonight?" she asked. She gently put her hand on his wrist, stopping his soldering. "Nothing fancy, I swear."
"Let's do takeaway at my place," he offered. "Don't have to bother Gordon while he's sleeping; I've already delayed his getting home with an errand, so it's the least I can do."
"You sent my son on an errand? For what?" she asked incredulously. "What on earth did you need him to get?"
"A fresh change of clothes, though I haven't heard that he's gotten back yet." He checked his watch and raised a brow. "It's nearly three—he should have been back hours ago."
"I'll text him," she offered.
"Thanks—tell him to not bother if he hasn't gotten to it, but if he's on the way back to leave the stuff with Rajit." He watched as she typed the message out and sent it. "I would have sent her, but her talents are much better served here and there aren't many here I'd trust with the key to my flat."
"Will we still be able to get in?" Kate asked. "I can get the emergency key from Security if you want."
"Naw; Lex should be home by now—we can have her let us in and we can kick her out immediately after. She'd want to meet you anyhow."
"You know Gordon, so it's only fair," she agreed. The two then stood and left the dismantled raven for another time, going out the doors together after checking in with their respective PAs.
Malcolm then led Kate towards the Tube, getting off at a station not even a five minute walk to what he claimed to be the best curry place he had since uni. It as his treat, and not long after they walked out of the shop with their orders, they were riding the lift up to his flat. They approached the door and knocked, hoping that Lex would hear.
To their complete surprise, however, it was Gordon who answered.
"Help me," he said, not letting either his mother or coworker get in a word. He looked ready to cry, as though he'd been on the losing end of several failed escape attempts, not to mention as though he hadn't been allowed a wink of sleep since arriving earlier.
"What are you still doing here?" Malcolm wondered, pushing his way through into his flat. He glanced over at the television and saw that it displayed a DVD menu, while his niece was on the couch navigating the various options. She glanced over her shoulder, face lighting up at the sight of her uncle.
"Hey! You're home early!" she said cheerily. "I see you've met my new best friend, Gordon."
"I'm telling Kanda you said that," Malcolm fired back.
"Already sent her a selfie and a couple Snapchats—she approves of his addition to the group," Lex replied. She then noticed Kate and her brows arched. "Uncle Malc…?"
"This is Kate, Gordon's mam; now behave, because we've both had a long-ass day and are fucking beat."
"Fine, fine—I won't interrupt you two and your date… or whatever it is you're doing."
Another knock came at the door and it was a pizza delivery, which Malcolm and Kate ignored in favor of sitting down at the kitchen bar with their curries. Lex and Gordon began the movie on the sitting room couch with the pizza box between them and cracking open a couple beers, completely ignoring the older couple now sharing the flat with them. He was quiet, but when Malcolm finished off his food he leaned over and took Kate by the hand.
"Want to go have a lie-down? Sitting on stools all day has been murdering my back."
"I thought you'd never ask," she snorted. "These things might as well be classified as torture devices."
"Remind me of that when we've got some piece-of-shite extraterrestrial that needs interrogating and all the usual drudgery just turns 'em on," he joked. They cleaned up after themselves and went towards his bedroom, holding hands, breaking contact as they entered the room. Malcolm once again loaned Kate some pajamas and let her change in the ensuite, while he quickly shed what he wore to work in favor of flannel trousers and an old t-shirt. He laid down in his unmade bed just as she was coming out of the bathroom, her other clothes folded in a neat pile that she placed atop the dresser.
Sliding into bed, Kate let herself be enveloped by Malcolm's arms as she settled in. His body pressed up against her, his legs curving along her own and his nose in her hair, while he let out a content sigh.
"I'd suggest a shag, but I woke up too early for that shit."
"Shagging on the first lie-in is for teens," she teased. "It's better this way, what, with the kids in the room over." She thought on that for a moment, her lips pursing in a frown. "Did Alexandra really recruit Gordon into being her best friend, or should I be worried?"
"When my Lex says they're friends, she means they're friends—you don't have to worry about a thing," he assured her. He pressed a kiss to her hair and shimmied in closer, rubbing up against her. "Maybe a shag later?"
"We'll see, Tucker," she replied. "We'll see."
