It seemed only logical that if Nine's last adventure would be parallel to Logopolis, Ten's first would be paired up with Castrovalva. There are so many similarities. And please excuse my fangirling over the Fifth Doctor. I can't help myself. He's just so Goddamn gorgeous! If I was the Master, these are the exact thoughts that would be running through my head during Castrovalva. And for the record, Fivey has very sexy eyebrows.
This NuWho scene may be unfamiliar to you. It's from the Children In Need special, "Born Again", and Rose is so thick in it. I mean, yes, I know regeneration is hard to wrap your head around, but the Doctor JUST FREAKING TOLD YOU what was going to happen! Sam is confused, but at least he actually LISTENS.
Okay, enough of my jabbering. Thanks to Alowl, keepcalmandfangirlon, Mabudachi-trio, princesspevensie, meetmeyesterday, Somnone, and an unnamed guest for reviewing, and to anyone else who read. Enjoy!
"Six PM," said the man, typing away at the keyboard on the console. He fiddled around with some of the controls. "Tuesday…October…5006…on the way to Barcelona!" The man stepped back from the controls and put his hands on his hips triumphantly.
Sam watched silently as this new person, this tall, skinny guy, mucked about in the Doctor's-his Doctor's-clothing, messing around with the controls of his Doctor's TARDIS.
"Now then," the new man said, turning to Sam. "What do I look like?...No, no, no-no-no-no-no…no! Don't tell me. Let's see…" He looked down, scrutinizing his own body. "Let's see…two legs, two arms, two hands…" He rotated his wrist slowly. "Slight weakness in the dorsal tubercle," he remarked. Then he reached up to his head and grabbed a handful of his own brown tresses. "Hair!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I'm not bald! Ooh, ooh, big hair," he said, scrunching it up into sort of a bedraggled faux-hawk. He gasped, inspecting the sides of his face. "Sideburns, I've got sideburns!" Then he grimaced slightly. "Ooh, really bad skin."
"Little bit thinner," said the man, patting his midsection. "That's weird. Give me time, I'll get used to it." Then his brown eyes widened and he looked up at Sam. "I have got…a mole. I can feel it…between my shoulder blades, there's a mole," he said, rolling his shoulders in a circle. He grinned and nodded slightly. "That's alright. Love the mole. Go on then, tell me…" He stood in front of Sam, modeling a little. "What do you think?"
When the Master saw the new Doctor for the first time, his hearts-heart-stood still a moment. His predecessor, the tall one with the brown curls and wild eyes, had been presentable enough, if only he weren't so cross. But this new incarnation was something to behold.
He was still tall, though as not tall as before. A more desirable height, closer to the Master's own. He was slim and sturdy, like an athlete (the Master wondered whether it were a happy accident that the Doctor choose an Earth cricketer's uniform as his new choice of wardrobe), and had broad shoulders. His hair was fairly straight, and blonde, and hung in chin-length golden curtains around his face. If it had been curly, the Master would have sworn he was looking at the Doctor as he had been in his first form…when he was just Theta Sigma.
But when the new Doctor turned around and looked him in the face for the first time, he knew it wasn't true. This form had more of a suntan than Theta, and his face was more ovular. The eyes were blue, but lighter and more icy that Theta's deep ocean azure. But still…this Doctor was…well. He was pretty, for want of a better word.
"Are you…you are…the Doctor?" Sam stammered slightly.
"Yeah. Of course I am," said the man, smiling confusedly.
"But…no, but…but you can't be him," said Sam.
"You saw me, I just changed, just like I told you I would," said the Doctor (or the man claiming to be him, at least). "Right in front of you."
"But…what did you-he-do? Where did…he…go?" asked Sam.
"Sam, it's me, I'm still here," said the Doctor. "I just look different, that's all. He was me, I am him."
"What did you do?" asked Sam. He felt like he was being very gullible, just taking this man at face value, but something was telling him to believe him.
"Drink," said the Master, finally speaking up, and this was when he saw this Doctor's face for the first time. "It's a simple, to promote healing sleep." He was lucky he was currently disguising his voice, for he was having trouble breathing.
The Master was masquerading as the Portreeve, an old man with a long white beard (facial hair always seemed to be part of his ensemble, no matter what name he took). He was wearing a long white robe, and was leaning on a walking stick. Even his voice was disguised. Though really, he probably needn't try so hard to conceal himself at this instant. The Doctor's regeneration had left him so confused, he couldn't even remember his own name.
The Doctor, unwary and complacent, not at all suspicious of his visitor's true identity, smiled brightly, blue eyes lighting up. The Master's stomach jumped. He had a very appealing smile. "You're the Portreeve," said the Doctor genially.
"Shh, past my bedtime," whispered the Master soothingly, keeping up appearances. "If they knew I was abroad, they would press me to this feast. For me, as for you, sir, sleep is sometimes better nourishment than good red meat. Please drink, sir."
The Master watched as the Doctor lifted the glass of valeriana to his rosy lips and drank, his Adam's apple gently bobbing. He licked his lips daintily with the tip of his pink tongue. The Master had to mentally pinch himself to keep from thinking completely obscene thoughts about that mouth. The Doctor winced slightly at the sharp concoction, then turned to the "Portreeve" and smiled again. Oh, that smile. "Yes, that is good," he said, showing bright white teeth.
"It's called regeneration," said the Doctor, putting his hands in the pockets of his predecessor's jacket, which now hung on him like a plastic bag. "It's a process we Time Lords go through due to our double hearts. Whenever we're in danger of dying, we can save ourselves. But it comes at a cost. Our cells literally burn up and heal at the same time. Our entire molecular structure rearranges. Every single, individual atom, every meticulous little electron-"
"Sorry, but shut up," said Sam, putting one hand up to silence the Doctor and one to rub his forehead. The drumbeat was acting up again.
"Sorry," said the Doctor. "Seems like I'm some what of a babbler this time around."
"I gotta be insane," said Sam, clenching his eyes shut and shaking his head. "But for some reason…I actually believe you."
"Sam, it's me, honestly, it's me," said the Doctor. "You're clever. I know you can figure it out."
"It's just…impossible…" said Sam, arguing with himself more with than the Doctor.
The Doctor smiled and stepped closer to Sam. "We've seen a lot of impossible things, Sam Tyler. Slitheen, Gelth, gas-mask zombies…is this really any less believable?"
Sam just shook his head. "I dunno, mate."
"Then how can I remember this?" The new Doctor cautiously took his hand. "Very first word I ever said to you. Trapped in that cellar…surrounded by shop window dummies, oh…such a long time ago…" He fixedly stared into Sam's eyes. "I took your hand…" -he gently squeezed it- "I said one word…just one word, I said…run."
"Excellent," said the Master, smiling too, so that the Doctor would continue to believe that he was under no threat. "Very soon," he said, "you'll find the Doctor."
"You overheard?" asked the Doctor, raising his eyebrows, and the Master found yet another feature that he had a strange fetish for. He was strangely stimulated by the motion of this Doctor's eyebrows. Was there nothing physically off-putting about this incarnation, the Master worried.
He remained composed. "I know these things," he answered enigmatically.
"Oh?" asked the Doctor, taking a seat on the bed innocently, without the remotest idea what the visualization of this blonde, attractive specimen sitting on the bed, so vulnerable, was doing to the Master right now, both physically and mentally. Oh, how the Master wanted to rip off this disguise right now, lunge at this tempting new Doctor, and-
"By the simplest of means," said the Master. "When you visit breakfast with me tomorrow, you will see the source of what my friends are pleased to call my great wisdom." The Master couldn't resist stepping close to the Doctor, who was looking up at him with baby blue eyes, completely trusting. "Now, sir, sleep."
"It…it really is you," said Sam slowly. "You're the Doctor."
The new Doctor grinned. It wasn't quite like the condescending smirk of his old self, but it was very nice. Warm, friendly, playful. Less burdened. "Hello," he said.
Sam suddenly realized that he and the Doctor were still holding hands, and he quickly let go.
The Doctor chuckled at this. "Same ol' Sam, eh? Same Sam, different Doctor, we just keep on running. And we never stopped, did we?" The Doctor danced over to the controls. "All across the universe! Running, running, running! And do you remember that one time we went to Hop? Do you remember hopping for our lives? Yeah? All that hopping?" He bounced on one foot to demonstrate. "Remember hopping for your life, yeah?" Then he stopped. "Oh, I am a babbler this time, aren't I, just can't seem to-"
"Shut up!"
"Yeah, that!"
"No, I meant…be quiet a moment, would you?" said Sam.
"Oh," said the Doctor, looking slightly deflated. "Sorry."
"Can you…I dunno…change back?" asked Sam.
"Do you want me too?"
"No," answered Sam, a little too quickly.
The Doctor smiled sneakily. "Oh. Handsome, am I?"
"No, I didn't say that," said Sam.
"You're blushing."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are tluuuuuugh!" The Doctor suddenly spluttered and slurred like a rabid dog.
"Doctor?" said Sam.
"Flaaaaaaugh!" The Doctor doubled over, looking like he was going to be sick.
"Oh my God, Doctor!" Sam rushed over and instinctually put his arms around the man.
The Doctor looked up. "Uh oh," he croaked, then exhaled a small cloud of gold vapor.
"Doctor, what's happening?!" cried Sam.
The Doctor looked up at him, almost drunkenly. "The change…going a bit wrong...FLUUUUUUGH! FLAK!" He doubled over again.
"Look, look, maybe we should…" Sam was panicking. How do you fix a broken Time Lord? "…I dunno…maybe we should go back to Satellite Five, find somebody, find Jack maybe-"
"Ah, he's busy! Got plenty to do, rebuilding the Earth! I gotta get you-get you home!" He woozily began hitting buttons and flipping switches.
Suddenly, the TARDIS shuddered and Sam was thrown to the ground. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, pulling himself up, with some difficulty.
"Putting on a bit of speed!" said the Doctor, punching a few more buttons. "That's it!…Come on, my beautiful ship, come on! Faster, atta girl!"
"Doctor, I think that's fast enough!" Sam cried as the TARDIS trembled again.
"You wanna go a little faster?" The Doctor asked him excitedly. "Wanna break the time limit?!"
"Stop it!" yelled Sam.
"Oh, don't be so dull, let's have a bit of fun!" The Doctor punched the air with his fist. "Let's rip through that vortex!...Regeneration's going wrong," he gasped. "Regeneration sickness…" He clenched his eyes shut and keeled over again. "Oh, my head!"
Then he sprang back up, bi-polar as an icecap. "FASTER, let's open those engines all the way!"
Suddenly an alarm sounded. "What's that?" cried Sam.
"It means we're crash landing!" cheered the Doctor, laughing maniacally.
"Well, do something!" cried Sam.
"Too late!" exclaimed the Doctor gleefully. "We're out of control!" He jumped out of pure excitement.
"You're gonna kill us!"
"Hold on tight, here we go!" He grinned at Sam. "Home sweet home!"
Sam stared at the new (handsome) face of the Doctor. Who was this mad man?!
The Doctor obediently lay back. "Yes," he said, and the Master could hear the drowsiness in his voice. "It has been a long journey. Tell me, Portreeve, off the record…will I find the Doctor here?"
The Master, who didn't think he could stand being in this room for much longer, had started to head for the door. But he turned back, and stared at the Doctor, lying defenselessly on the bed, practically begging for…
"Oh yes, Doctor," he said, turning away again. "Very soon."
"Good," yawned the Doctor, rolling to face the opposite wall, and offering the Master a very good view of…Damn it, man, keep your mind on the plan! he scolded himself.
"Good night, Doctor," said the Master, in such a hurry to get out of there, he slipped up and called the man by his name.
"Good night," replied the Doctor, still unsuspicious of either the Master's evil intent or his frustrating stray fantasies about the Doctor's new persona, and almost immediately dozed off to sleep.