CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Doctor felt Amy back up beside him, into the wall. He turned quickly to glance at her, and saw her eyes were wide with fear, confusion, love and worry.
The Doctor, on the other hand, felt almost happy. Hungry. He was back again with his friend, and he was not alone. He stepped forwards, dropping Amy's hand as he became too far behind, and their arms had to stretch.
The Master was walking down the stairs, slowly, turning his head to look at the Doctor. "You've regenerated."
"You too."
"Have I? Oh, when was the last time we met?"
"End of the Time Lords? No?"
"Right. I heard I was there." The Master was now at the foot of the stairs. "Doctor."
"Yes."
"Well, you're meant to say Master."
"Am I? Well, I suppose that could be … arranged."
"We shall make an arrangement."
"How long has it been since I left?"
"A few weeks. A month or so."
"And you're in the same clothes?" he drew out the end of the phrase.
The Master did not answer.
"What are you doing here?"
"Nothing. I never chose to be stuck here. Dreary village. Barely left the house." He laughed oddly. Not a proper laugh. A show laugh. A sarcastic little "hah".
"So, coming back to consider my offer?"
"I never gave it any thought. The answer is no."
"No, oh Doctor. Think. You and I, unstoppable."
"You've been here for a few weeks, you said. You could have gotten anywhere."
"Anywhere, if I had a TARDIS."
"No reason you couldn't have left the town."
"Well. I did make a bit of a past-time …"
"And it was?"
"Oh. Just look out the window."
Amy turned to spin around, but the Doctor held fast onto her shoulder. "You want my TARDIS."
"I want you in the TARDIS."
"Well, sorry. Not happening."
"But it is. Maybe," the Master said, "you ought to turn around."
This time, the Doctor turned with Amy. Both stopped stock still, frozen, staring out of the window. For there, pressing their faces up against the glass, stood the citizens of Leadworth. Every single one. Staring out right back at Amy and the Doctor.
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