A/N: back to the plot…

Previously:

He practically threw himself on her to halt her progress away from him, pinning her down in the process. "This is no joke," he sternly informed her

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Part 10: Other Concerns

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"Doctor," she gasped out as she acknowledged his weight holding her down. He shifted his position slightly and she found her breath stuttering. Since when had he been so damned sexy and demanding? His lower body was pressing enticingly onto her, and if she wasn't careful her last thread of resistance would crumble away. Should she move? Would it encourage his latest madness? She risked a squirm of protest, and was 'rewarded' by his reaction and a sharp intake of breath.

Only at the last moment did he let go of her wrists as he lowered his head, his hands plunging into her hair to control her movements. With almost practised ease he brought his lips slowly down onto her mouth, and kissed her.

She kissed back, undulating beneath him, letting him consume her breath as he moved on her seductively. It started with small presses that gradually invited more, opening, tasting, exploring with intoxicating sweeps of his tongue. A groan forced it way out as she sought more. She clasped his body hungrily closer, running her hands underneath his pyjamas as his hands smoothed down to her thighs. All she could think of was the sensation of his mouth claiming her, and she wanted so much more of him.

He urged her on, seeking out a warm glowing pulse of desire; and she seriously considered letting him have his wicked way with her. That's when her phone insistently went off.

"What the …!" she exclaimed as she scrambled to grab her mobile phone when it went off in quick succession despite her best efforts to ignore it.

The number was home. If James was phoning her up to ask some petty question like could he record over Britain's Got Talent she'd kill him! "Hello," she said in greeting.

"Donna! Thank goodness you've finally picked up," came the anxious voice of Wilf. "I was beginning to think you'd dropped off the face of the Earth."

The Doctor moved to her side as Donna quickly sat up and listened carefully. "What is it Gramps? You sound really worried. Has something happened?" she asked with great concern.

"Oh my gawd!" He fought back his apprehensiveness. "Donna, it's James. He's gone missing."

That got her attention got and proper! "What do you mean he's gone missing?" she almost shrieked down the phone. "Tell me when this happened? When did you notice, and why was he out of your sight?"

The Doctor had her within his embrace, soothing his hands down her arms as a consoling gesture as he fought his own panic. When he tried to seek out James along their link there was nothing, as if he was deeply asleep or… disconnected.

"He went out with that Catherine," Wilf explained. "He said they wouldn't be long, and they've not come back. It's not like him to leave no word, so I rang him but I only get no answer. That's when I tried to get hold of you."

She could hear the plain fright in his voice. He was right; it was totally unlike James to go off with letting anyone know what he was up to. "Don't worry, Gramps. I'm on my way now. We'll get it sorted. Knowing our luck he's probably fascinated by some sort of gizmo and forgotten the time," she tried to reason; but she didn't believe it for a second. "See you soon. Bye."

The pair of them sat glumly contemplating each other.

"Well, Spaceman? Any idea what's going on?" she asked the Doctor.

He rubbed a hand down over his face. "Donna, I don't want to panic you but I think he might have been drugged."

They'd only just finished dressing and were entering the corridor when there was the sound of the TARDIS doors being slammed and the heavy footsteps off someone running towards them.

"Jack? What's going on?" the Doctor instantly asked the captain as he appeared in front of them.

"It's the Master. I think we've narrowed it down to where he might be but I had an urgent message from Wilf saying that James has gone missing. My guess is that the Master may have taken him and Catherine," Jack explained as quickly as he could.

"We'd already worked that one out. Has there been any sign of him? Of them both?" the Doctor asked anxiously.

"The last time I heard back from Catherine they weren't that far from home," Jack replied. "Down by the water."

Donna gasped. "The water," she repeated faintly as fear gripped her heart.

"Drowning isn't the Master's style. He loves torture much more," Jack commented bitterly.

"Jack!" the Doctor warned as he wrapped a comforting arm around Donna. He knew Jack had every right to make the comment but he didn't want Donna imagining all sorts of things.

"I'm sure he won't have done anything to James," Jack quickly amended; although his thoughts tacked on the word 'yet' because the Master couldn't be trusted to leave anyone alone for long.

"But…," Donna stammered, trying to control her spiralling emotions, "you will find him? Jack, please… find my baby."

"I promise, Donna, that'll I'll bring him back to you." Jack just hoped it wouldn't be in a body bag. That had happened too often in the past. If anyone could survive an encounter with the Master it was the Doctor's son; Catherine on the other hand was a different matter.

James rolled his head from side to side. That was weird; he didn't remember falling asleep. And what was that that god-awful smell? It felt like something was covering his head; every breath was scented with a horrible taste in his mouth.

Conscious came to him slightly more, and he became convinced there was some rough cloth over his head, blocking out a fair amount of light but he could make out the bare basics of a room. His eyes could trace the outline of a wall and a distant window.

He coughed and tried to spit away whatever was offending his tongue, but it didn't work. If only he could move his arms but they were held fast by a thin rope that encircled his body five times and bound his wrists. It was extremely easy to guess who might have done this to him.

Suddenly the hood was pulled off and he was squinting against the harsh light. "What do you want?" he hoarsely asked the figure that was silhouetted by the window.

The figure laughed, removing any trace of doubt in James' mind. "Go on, guess."

Several ideas raced about. Now which one should he choose? "This is a weird way to get another date with my mother."

There was another malicious laugh as the figure moved away from the window and advanced on James, allowing him to see clearly who his abductor was. The inane grin on Harry Saxon's face was no surprise at all.

"Your mother would have been a sweet victory; and to think she turned down this," Harry declared as he opened his arms wide in demonstration. "Who's to say she won't come running after me yet?"

"Running to kick your arse," James retorted, and was rewarded by Harry pouncing on him to grasp his throat tightly.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say, little Jamie. Mummy won't be able to save you now if I chose to choke the life out of you," he sneered. "So be nice!"

James fought for a breath and the means to calm himself down. His memories told him that the Master loved it when his victims squealed loudly. "I'm always nice. I was brought up that way," he choked out.

"So you were," Harry agreed. "And now you're mine."

At that point Harry brought his other hand up and plunged a syringe into James neck. James tried to make a sound of protest but his senses went out like a light and he fell back into darkness.

When he came to the next time he was still bound and hooded but laying down on some sort of surface. A thin mattress was his guess. And judging by the way the faint sounds from outside was echoing the room was no bigger than a normal police cell. There was no doubt about it; he was screwed if his dad didn't find him.

He stifled a sob. It would do him no good to breakdown or allow his emotions to get the better of him. Why hadn't he been given a sonic screwdriver of his own? Oh yes, because his father was frightened to spend more than a second with him! If he had had a real childhood he would have grown up with abandonment issues, James was sure of it.

Well he'd show the Doctor what he was made of; he could do this without him and his Time Lord ways! Now if he could wriggle his body about for a bit he could loosen the rope that was trapping his hands and escape; then he could go and search for Catherine.

There was the sound of heavy boots on concrete and then a large hand gripped James' shoulder. "Trying to get away from us, eh? Well, we'll see about that!" the gruff male voice told him and then something stabbed him just above the elbow. "Night night, princess," the voice mocked him, and then James lost consciousness.

The Doctor stood holding his head, concentrating intensely. "It wasn't for long but he isn't very far away," he told Donna and Jack as they anxiously regarded him.

They were stood by some industrial units, many of them well past their visual peak. It was only the three of them and they were well aware of their vulnerability in that environment.

"Is he alright? Have they hurt him?" Donna asked, gripping his arm in order to will the opposite.

"I'm not getting any pain as such. Just confusion and anger," the Doctor admitted. "They've probably got him heavily sedated."

"I wonder what he's got planned for him," Jack deliberately mumbled as quietly as he could. The Doctor caught it though; he knew he did.

Donna pushed all her imagined horror stories to the back of her mind. "What do we do now?"

"I think we ought to split up, "Jack suggested, "and keep contact by text. Is that okay?"

The other two nodded their agreement, and crept cautiously up the building of their choice.

"Ah, you're back with us," Harry remarked as the hood was pulled off James' head once more, and he found himself sat on a basic chair in the middle of a deserted workshop.

"Where's Catherine?" he tried to shout, but his throat was still sore and his voice didn't travel far.

"Your little friend? She's safe somewhere near here," Harry answered, and gave a nod to the large man standing by James' side. James assumed he was the goon that had manhandled him from the very start.

Was it only a few hours ago that he had been peacefully walking along the road with Catherine, telling her about the places he hoped to travel to one day, if he ever got the chance? He really hoped she hadn't been injured when they were grabbed and flung into a van.

"You'd better not have hurt her!" James threatened Harry, glowering at him as he did so.

"Why are you worried about her? Surely she is the Doctor responsibility. He does like his Earth girls," Harry mused. Anyone would think he actually cared to look at him, but James wasn't fooled.

James was determined to reply as positively as possible. "She is my friend and I'm sure Dad will be on his way by now."

"Oh! Oh whoo hoo!" Harry practically danced about in his delight. "I've been waiting to hear you say that, my dear boy. So you're the Doctor's son!" Harry almost crowed with self-congratulations as he contemplated James and then leant forward very close to his face. "And such a pretty boy too," he added, placing a finger under James' chin in order to force him to look back.

"Get your hands off me!" James spat at him. "If you don't you'll be sorry."

"Sorry?" Harry smirked at him. "Why; what are you going to do about it?"