This is a polite note to people who love to get all over me (and I suspect others) about absolute perfection regarding continuity, character, and some details: I know. I know not everything is 100% and I'm sorry it is not up to your standards. I do try to keep it in line, but with regards to the whole point of the site, it is yet my story. And it can't be that bad since you continue to read.

I appreciate being made aware of everything I get wrong, but some of it is done intentionally. I write only to entertain and to pass the time. With fanfic, I write and don't look back. So if it please you, hold on and enjoy the ride.


The Master did not stir in the least as the Doctor entered the cell. He lay on the couch, one hand on his stomach, the other across his face.

"He hasn't visited," he groaned. "Haven't you done enough?"

"No, I haven't done quite enough. But I have a feeling I'm about to make a breakthrough."

The Master lifted his hand and looked at the Doctor. Part of his face was black and blue and his eye was swollen shut. "Doctor?"

The Doctor darted forward and plastered himself against the barrier. "Koschei! What happened?!"

"Ah, so they got you too, eh, Theta?"

"Did the CIA do this to you?"

"They struck quickly and too many. I hate to admit it, but I was taken by surprise. They were gone before I could get off the couch and left me like this. Actually, they left me a lot worse." He sat up. "But they say misery loves company. And it seems I find myself in the company of a twelve year old wearing a bow tie."

The Doctor took a step back from the barrier and put a hand defensively to his bow tie. "It's cool."

"What do you want, Doctor?"

"I'm here to spring you."

"Oh, good. Rassilon already told me he would execute me if you returned. At least I'll go down fighting." He stood and walked to the barrier. Already his bruises were healing. "What's in it for you?"

"I stop Rassilon, remove him from leadership—"

"Inserting yourself, no doubt."

"—remove him from leadership," the Doctor repeated, "strip him of his immortality, and force him to quiet the drums."

The last bit got the Master's attention. "You would quiet the drums?"

"Rassilon planted them in your mind; there must be a way to uproot them."

"But only if I help you."

"The only other option is to help him."

"Oh, no, Doctor. I could always choose to help myself."

"Helping me is helping yourself in this case, Lord Master. You want the drums gone, so you have to go after Rassilon. I'm trying to prevent a universal catastrophe, so I have to go after Rassilon. Why not help me?"

"The drums get removed, I am restored to my rightful place in the Capitol."

"I promise."

"And what if the drums can't be quieted? What then? Are you going to lock me up in here again with Rassilon as my cellmate? Hang me as many times as it takes before I am finally and fully dead?"

"I don't know. But I can promise that I will try my absolute hardest to end this plague."

By now the Master's bruises were almost gone and his eye had opened. "You make a lot of promises, Theta Sigma, always have." He huffed. "We both know where I stand on trusting you. Now then, the CIA alerted Rassilon to your visit the instant you arrived. You're not getting out of here alive, not without me. So, how far does your trust extend, Lord Doctor?"


Between the Doctor and the Master, it wasn't hard to open a spot big enough for the Master to slip through the cell barrier. But as they stepped out in the hall, the first thing they noticed was a group of about a dozen CIA agents running down the hall toward them.

"As I said, we go down fighting," the Master said breathily.

"No, we're not going down at all," the Doctor told him. "What we need to do is-"

But the Master had long since tuned him out. As soon as he could make out the agents' faces, he charged, screeching wildly. The agents started shooting, but the Master had not been idle in his years of lockup. He moved with the agility of a snake and the speed of a cat, getting within their firing range and taking out the agents two or three at a time. The Doctor could only watch in amazement. By the time he was through, the Master left eight unconscious and four tied up. He glanced at the Doctor, fingers curled like talons and a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't run, Koschei," the Doctor said calmly. "I understand, it's been a long time, but we have to work together. Remove Rassilon and we remove the drums. All right?"

"And what do you propose?" the Master spat.

"We'll discuss that as soon as we're safely out of here and aboard the Tardis."

"You would let me inside your precious Tardis?"

"I'm extending a lot of faith and trust in you, Koschei. Let's work together. Can we do that?"

The Master looked down the hall, toward the exit, toward freedom. The Doctor bit his lip, afraid he would bolt. In the end, however, the Master relaxed and stood down. He gave the Doctor a long look and said, "Fine, I'll help you overthrow Rassilon. On two conditions. The drums stop. And you use my name. My true name."

He hated to agree, but there was little choice.

"There's a second entrance on the north side," the Master said, taking charge and leading the way through the Asylum. "That's where they take prisoners out to be executed and don't want to make a scene. It leads to a concrete yard with a concrete wall on your left side and all manner of various sentences on the right. It's only guarded if someone is being executed, so we should be all right."

"This is an asylum, not a prison," the Doctor pointed out. "And how do you know all this?"

"Tell me, Lord Doctor, do you think every cell has an inmate? No. There are only about six of us here. They've executed the rest. We've been given life sentences, so who is really going to notice if we don't walk out? I know the layout because their first torture, their first execution, is to get rid of any shred of sanity you have left before you're admitted. They take you on a tour of the Asylum as if you'll be put on some sort of activity schedule, when really you'll never see any of it again. Or that's the plan. As far as the other inmates, eventually you get in tune with the rhythms of the Asylum and you can tell."

"I see. And how do you know there won't be more agents on the north side?"

"Because they were counting on my being still safely locked behind the barrier and you not fighting back. They were primarily after you."

"Flattered, I'm sure."

They hurried as fast as they could through the corridors to the north side where, as promised, there was an exit. Also as promised, it was unguarded.

"The CIA puts too much faith in themselves and their Asylum," the Master scoffed, kicking the door open for dramatic flair. "Clearly they've underestimated me again."

"I helped you escape."

"You did nothing!" the Master snapped as they headed out of the Asylum area the back way. "I've known for years how to get out."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because my plans weren't yet ready."

The Doctor halted. "Oh? What plans were those?"

"None you need concern yourself with."

"I think maybe I should."

The Master turned. "I'm out, Doctor. I'm free."

"And you said you would help."

"And you believed me."

"Kos- Lord Master, please. Let's get aboard the Tardis and we can figure things out."

"You'll never let me in."

"Yes, I will. I promise. I promise on the same promise that the drums will be quieted. You don't have to trust me; you only have to believe me."

"Always the wordsmith, Lord Doctor, especially in Old High."

"Please, Lord Master. I can't do this without you."

"Clearly. But I can do it without you."

"If you could, you already would have."

The Master glared at the Doctor as he walked past. After a moment, he followed. "All right, so where is your Tardis?"


"You've redecorated," the Master observed sourly from where he was handcuffed to the railing near the door. "I'd love a tour."

"I only said I would let you inside," the Doctor told him. "I never said I would let you roam free."

"You ought to watch your creative wordplay, Lord Doctor. It may come back to haunt you."

"Hey, it's not my rule. After you tortured the poor dear-" The Doctor patted the Tardis console. "-she doesn't like you very much. She'll let you in, but that's as far as you go."

"So you say."

"At least I'm loyal to my Tardis."

The Master gave him a look. "So, what's the plan, Doctor?"

"I would appreciate a measure of respect, thank you. I address you as Lord Master."

"I'm already deferring to your direction; you ought to be grateful. You're lucky to have gotten this much. So then, what's the plan?"

The Doctor explained all that had happened since the attack on the Consulate, often having to talk over scoffs or jeers or snarky comments from the Master. He finished by saying, "I'm afraid Detective Brooks will be caught in the first line of fire, but I also think he may be able to help us."

"You brought me out here to…what? Patronize me by bringing in a human for some sort of intellectual reference?"

"As long as you don't eat him, yes."

"You're going to go out of your way to save a single human when you know another war is coming?"

"Saving this human may prevent such a war."

The Master awkwardly folded his arms. "Pity that. And what then, after we rescue the human?"

"Rassilon's got something over Romana; if we can find out what it is, we can help her and she may be able to tell us what's going on."

"Now you're bringing Romana into this. So why did you spring me? Really?"

"I saved your life, Koschei. The least you can do is show some gratitude."

"The first thing I'll do when these drums stop is give you a great big hug and a sloppy wet kiss. How does that sound?"

"I'd like to save Romana, too. I would hate to see her go down because we couldn't free her from Rassilon's collar."

"Who else, Doctor?" the Master interrupted. "Who else are you going to save? Are you just going to pack them all here in the Tardis and whisk them away to safety? You can't save everyone. And whenever you try, it always ends badly. So why not abandon this futile mission now, and save yourself the heartsache?"

"I at least have to try."

"Sentiment." The Master shook his head and looked away.

"We're here," the Doctor announced. "Stay here; I'll get Brooks." He put a hand on the door.

"You're going to leave me here alone in your Tardis?"

The Doctor paused and bit his lip. He took a step back and started fishing in his pockets. "You're right. You're coming with me; I am not letting you out of my sight."


They'd materialized in the middle of the police station in an empty desk-cubicle, startling everyone. The Master stepped out first followed immediately by the Doctor.

" 'Ello," the Doctor said cheerfully. The Master merely frowned but searched the room with glittering eyes.

"We're looking for Ronnie Brooks. Anyone seen him?"

"He went to get a coffee," someone said numbly. "He should be back soon."

"Someone call me?" Brooks wondered as he entered the room with a coffee and a brown paper bag. He stopped when he saw the Tardis. "Lord Doctor," he acknowledged. "Is this the help you promised?"

"So I'm being promised now, am I?" the Master said distastefully, glaring at the Doctor.

"Yes, he is. This is the Lord Master; he's here to help. Conditionally. Want to come help?"

"Where?"

"In here."

"In your Tardis?"

"Of course."

"But that's against the law."

"Detective, right now we are the two most wanted men on Gallifrey, and pretty soon Earth. Would you like to join us?"