A/N: As always, I'm grateful for all the comments that you've been leaving me! Thank you!

Summary: The Master invites Rose for an evening of dinner and dance.

Chapter 25: A Fan of Rose

When Rose was roughly bundled and thrown into her prison cell, blindfolded and cuffed, she had expected the worst: a grey, dank prison cell, filled with other prisoners and the dreaded open single toilet.

Of all the horrible, horrible things that had happened to her over the years, for some odd reason, it was always that single toilet in the prison cell that bothered her the most. The guards who were handling her were rough; they had pushed her to the ground before removing her handcuffs and her blindfold. Rose had barely opened her eyes when she heard the prison steel door slamming shut, the squeaking of metal against metal, the electronic beeping and the heavy slide of the key that locked her in.

When Rose did open her eyes, she could only just contain the shock that she felt when she saw the state of her 'prison'. It was far from a prison; it was a room she had not seen for years.

It was her room from the Tardis: her Doctor's Tardis from her universe that she originated from, from the queen-sized bed to the pink comforters and the stuffed toys that the Tardis bestowed upon her, in her own way of making her feel comfortable, and the posters of boybands that did not even exist in this universe.

For a terrible, terrible second, a feeling of dread washed over Rose that somehow the Master was able to crack through the walls of the universe and had taken the other Tardis in control. Rose crawled backwards to the edge of the door, paralyzed with fear. What would he do to her Doctor? It took her a few minutes to calm down, as she forced herself to take in the surroundings.

It just looked like her room in the Tardis: the room of a teenage girl, not quite a woman, with her girly fancies. What gave it away were the posters. The posters were off — they were not exactly the stuff she liked back then — the spellings were off, the members of the band different.

Someone had put in a considerable amount, a sick amount, of effort to do so — but for what reason? Rose tentatively got up from the corner she hid herself in as her heartbeat slowed down from its racing levels to investigate.

There were momentos of her travels, from her time in this parallel universe that she had left in her own bedroom that had been laid carefully, as though to make her as welcome as possible. Rose put the cowrie shell had she collected from the Caribbeans down and tried the curtains by the edge of her bed.

The Master was insane. He was off his rocker and for some reason, the thought that she could not reason with him terrified her more than anything else.

The lights of her room dimmed, signaling it was time to sleep.

Rose did not get up from the floor for a long time. She just could not bring herself to sleep on the bed — not when the rest of the world was suffering. She nodded off that night on the floor as she made plans to escape.

Lucy stayed in the Control Room — usually it was a good respite from when she was with the Master. It allowed her to gather her thoughts, calm the mind that she was sure she was losing. Lucy felt guilty she felt that way about the Master. She should always be happy to be around him.

But all lovers needed time apart, didn't they?

'Miss Cole, would you like for us to go through the dinner schedule again?' one of the assistants asked from her PC terminal.

Lucy had to hold her sigh back. One less person working on the Master's grand plans at conquering the universe. He was so easily distracted.

Lucy leaned over to the young man who worked on making the Master's dinner plans a success.

'As per the Master's orders, we've researched the menu from the restaurant that Rose ordered the picnic lunch last year — it's a bit difficult these days since well, the restaurant had been destroyed. But we did look through Torchwood and Vitex Industries accounts — blimey, I still can't get over they're the same companies, who would have thought? - '

The young man prattled on, but Lucy was not paying any more attention. The painstaking details put in for this dinner — it made her so mad. These were the days when she hated the Master. She hated, hated, hated him. Hated herself for loving him so deeply. Hated herself that when he spoke to her, when he held her, hugged her and touched her, she would do anything for him. But what on earth can she do, to get his attention? Oh she hated him so much when he obsessed over that tart, Rose Tyler.

But as she told herself over and over again, the Master must have a good motivation for doing what he did. She reminded herself of all the good things he had done for her, the job, he took care of her and her father compared to other people, and pushed away the hurt and pain inside her. He must have a reason for his obsession of Rose Tyler.

'Where is the Time Lord?' growled the Sycorax behind her.

As she thought earlier, once upon a time, the Control room was a respite from the Master, the times when she reluctantly admitted to herself that she needed time to be away from him.

It just was not as much fun anymore though when there were those ugly aliens standing behind her by the corner. Watching over Torchwood Control.

'He's busy,' Lucy snapped. She tried to sound commanding but her voice shook. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

What luck does Sol 3 have to bear witness to all forms of invasions? From Cybermen to the Lethe to ten foot giant cockroaches and then the Master. No, Lucy corrected herself, the Master was their saviour.

She did not understand why he allowed the Sycorax to live when they made the misfortune of trying to invade Earth on Christmas Day. A pact of sorts, an alliance he said.

'We have stood here, waiting for war when all your Master is doing is obsessing over a woman!' The Sycorax looked cross. 'We warn you woman, we lack patience in these matters.'

Was the Master's indiscretion that obvious even to these gnarly aliens? He must have a reason over what he was doing.

'I'll talk to him,' Lucy muttered meekly.

She loved the Master. There must be a reason as to what he was doing.

***

The Master hummed a tune as he prepared himself for dinner that evening. He put on his cuff links, diamonds from the Britain's crown, when they used to have a monarchy. Silly but the Master couldn't help feeling vain now that he was stranded here on Earth. Such attention to looks.

Lucy stood next to him, Blackberry in one hand and a phone in the other. She was sorting the meetings for tomorrow. The Master was rather pleased with his Assistant. She had done everything for him, even this dinner which he thought must have been heartbreaking for her. It was not as if he didn't notice the stolen glances she gave him, the quiet sighs and the hope in her eyes.

Oh humans were very funny, with their feelings. Her love for him, the Master supposed, if he were human, was touching. But he found it so amusing that she was so hurt by the entire Rose experience that he could not resist flaunting it..

"Lucy, dear," he said, holding out two equally black ties. "Which one would suit me better? This one or the other one?"

She stared blankly at the ties at first and frowned. She looked unsure if she should take his request seriously.

"I don't know, the left one?" she said tentatively.

The Master shrugged and tossed out the left one. "They're exactly the same."

He went back to fixing his tie in the mirror and delighted himself in the crushing disappointment that appeared on Lucy's face. The disappointment stayed for a moment before disappearing and in its place, a mask of professionalism. That was his girl, Lucy.

"Master, is it necessary to have dinner with Rose?"

The Master stopped fixing his tie. "Oh?"

Lucy bit her bottom lip, as though trying to find words not to offend her Master. 'The Sycorax have been rather… antsy. They don't quite understand your fascination with her, sir." Even though she did not voice it aloud, the unspoken 'I' could be heard.

"Didn't you read her diary? She crossed the universe. She glows in the dark. She pilots alien spacecraft. I'm a fan."

The expression on Lucy's face was priceless.

"Is that why you've treated her so well, with a room of her own?" The Master could see, the instant the words escaped her mouth, Lucy regretted it. She had her hand to her mouth, clasped in horror.

He stopped fixing his tie. 'Lucy, could you help me with this tie.'

Lucy dropped her Blackberry from shock. She was flustered, the Master could sense the heightened heartbeat, could see the flushed cheeks. She bent over to pick up her fallen mobile unit, the Master admired her calves and the shape of her arse in that tight skirt of hers.

She straightened her jacket and walked towards the Master. Her fingers trembled as she fixed his tie.

"How is your father enjoying Cardiff?" the Master enquired.

Colour drained from Lucy's face."My father is well."

The Master grabbed her wrist as she put the finishing touches on his tie. Lucy was so small, petite. He held her wrist tighter, twisted it. Lucy gasped from the pain. She was so fragile, Lucy. He could just break her, right then and there.

"Would he fancy a visit to Pete Tyler? Catch up on old times."

He released her hand. Lucy doubled over, grabbing her wrist and holding it lightly. The Master could see the fear in her eyes as she massaged her wrist. There were going to be bruises on her wrist. Lucy did not reply as she blinked back tears from her eyes. She silently reached for his black jacket, strewn carelessly on the chair in his office to help him into the jacket.

The Master continued humming his song, only stopping to say, "There's a good girl, Lucy," when she helped him.

***

The young soldier, Kevin, stood outside Miss Tyler's room. He was the guard for the evening. Some of his mates laughed at him, saying he was a bit too skinny, that Rose Tyler, ex-Torchwood would easily kick his arse to escape.

He didn't believe a word they said. His sister used to be obsessed with Hello and OK! Magazine, back when they were around anyway, and he remembered Rose Tyler from them magazines. She didn't seem like them sort that could kick anybody's arse around.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous and held on to his gun a little tighter. Not that he wanted any harm to come on to her, no. Of course not. From the way the Master talked about her, Kevin heard, you would think he fancied her or something. He'd probably end up dead if something should happen to her.

There were other rumours about Rose Tyler, rumours that she was actually part alien. The whispers were that the Resistance looked up to her and she could destroy the Master.

But she was captured, so that should put an end to the rumour, shouldn't it?

The young soldier looked at his watch. It was time to knock on her door and escort her.

The door opened and Rose Tyler walked out. Her hair had grown out longer from her time incarcerated and she was dressed in a fine evening gown. She didn't come out meekly. She strode out confidently, with a gaze of steel. But she stopped to give the young soldier a sympathetic smile when she came out.

"Are you the one escorting me to our Lord and Master?"

The young soldier thought that it was no wonder the Master was taken in by her.

***

The young soldier who escorted her was nice enough. Pleasant. He was quiet mostly despite Rose's questions but he finally spoke to tell her that he was under orders to remain quiet. Rose looked at him with pity but said no more as he escorted her to where they were supposed to have dinner.

Rose was delighted as she was brought out. Her prison was a place she had spent countless of sleepless nights in. As they walked down the corridors, Rose recognized the building she was in. She was in Torchwood.

The young soldier brought her up to the highest floor, what used to be the board meeting rooms and Pete Tyler's office. Rose nearly fell over from shock when the elevator doors dinged open and she could see what the Master had done to her father's office. It was now a grand apartment with wooden flooring, expensive furnishings and fittings, heavy, velvet curtains framing the large windows that overlooked London.

The Master stood in the centre of the room, a warm, tender smile gracing his features. Rose's breath was caught somewhere in her chest. For a second, Rose thought it to be Harry standing in the centre. She banished the thought. Harry was dead.

"Welcome to my humble abode," the Master greeted her with relish.

"I see you've redecorated," Rose remarked.

"Do you like it?"

Rose felt her heart catch in her throat. She would have thought that she had mourned him enough by now but watching him speak, despite the outright cruelty he had displayed, Rose could not help but see traces of Harry in his movements, in his voice and in his glances.

"Do you always treat your prisoners this way?" Rose asked, changing the subject.

"No. Think Pete Tyler is stuffed in a hole somewhere," the Master said airily.

Rose stiffened at his callous words. She allowed the words to slide over, brushing aside the anger that rose within. "Then why me? Why this dinner and dancing?"

"I read your diary. I'm a fan."

Rose raised her eyebrows a little but was not too surprised by the revelation. She was a child of twenty, having lost the love of her life and her home. For the next one year post Norway, she poured every memory into her diary. She should have known better that the diary would one day become a liability.

"Didn't anyone teach you not to go through people's private stuff?"

The Master grinned broadly. "Rogue Time Lord."

"I kinda guessed, what with the world domination and all."

"Not just the world, the universe. Time and space once I get a hold of the Tardis."

Rose shrugged. "It's too bad I lost the Tardis key, then."

The sparkle in the Master's eyes dulled slightly. He reached over and touched her hair before gently caressing her face. Rose held her breath, her body tense and ready to strike him should he try anything well, that he'd might regret trying with her.

"Such a shame," he remarked softly. "Colouring your hair this way." He took his hands away. "Champagne?" he asked, walking over the long table that was prepared for two.

The unexpected gentleness for the Master gave Rose the courage she needed.

"The Chameleon Arch," Rose stated flatly.

Whatever tenderness the Master had disappeared. In its place was a cold glee that Rose was becoming accustomed to associating with the Master. He folded his arms and appeared, disinterested.

"Yes?"

Rose had to know. "I was told that when you use the Chameleon Arch, the Tardis creates a story for you. Harry Saxon was just a story the Tardis made up."

The Master rolled his eyes. "So he is."

"But it's not just any story, yeah?" Rose said. "It's created from parts of your personalities. It's a human you."

"I don't see your point, Miss Tyler," the Master said. He poured himself a glass of champagne for himself and downed it. How rude, not waiting for her.

"If it is, then Harry Saxon is a part of you. Inside you there's Harry Saxon somewhere."

There was a crash. Rose shook as the Master flung one of the champagne glasses to the wall. How far can she push him? She felt her heartbeat rise but she refused to let any of the fear she felt show.

But the Master then calmed down somewhat, his features were dangerous. When he spoke again, his tone was mocking: 'I breathe, I am alive and yet I do not live. This is not my world, my world, my life, my universe disappeared. My life has ended.'

Rose felt her breath catch in her throat. She remembered penning those words on one of the many terrible nights after she knew she would never see the Doctor again. Even hearing the words aloud, despite it being the Master's attempt at mocking her, made it hurt all over again.

Time did not heal wounds.

'Really now, Rose?' the Master asked. 'The Doctor was your universe. You are one of the many countless of companions that I've met across my own time. If your Doctor is anything like the Doctor that I know of, he would have replaced you.'

He paused. 'Humans. If anyone did not understand your strange nature, your need to attach such gravity to just a single being and thereby calling it your entire 'world', one could almost call it petty. And stupid. But I suppose you would be the only one here who would understand that loss and emptiness of what I feel knowing that Gallifrey is gone. Superficially of course, in your diminished and unevolved intelligence.'

Rose had to hold back, the retort that she had at the tip of her tongue. Oh, he reminded her of the Doctor, his nattering about emotions and feelings when sometimes, Rose thought he just didn't have a clue. Despite the deep emotion that Rose used to see, brimming in his brown eyes, there were moments, callous moments, where Rose thought the Doctor was just unable to feel.

Rose could see his intelligent eyes, trying hard to appear as disinterested as possible. But Rose knew, just as she knew the Doctor, when was she able to read Time Lords so well, he was reaching out to her — that mad desire to connect after losing everything. She naively thought she could fill in this gap.

The Doctor never pretended he did not have emotions, yet on occasion, despite loving and caring so deeply, he struck her as one bereft of feelings. The Master was like the Doctor yet different. They were almost diametrical in their personalities. The Master pretended not to feel, yet Rose could see that raw helplessness and emotion.

She could read Time Lords so well.

"There's a Harry Saxon inside of you somewhere. It was Harry Saxon that saved the world, I'm sure of it. That time with the Lethe. Somewhere in the Master... with all his kindness and goodness.'

"You mean all his weaknesses,' he mused.

"There's a reason why you're the last of the Time Lords. You don't have to do this anymore."

The Master strode to her, his eyes cold. He radiated violence and anger. "And I'm doing precisely what the universe intended me to do." He grabbed Rose by the hand and pulled her to the expansive window and with his free hand, flung open the curtains.

What Rose saw broke her heart. London's skies were red as fires raged. Mega-structures were built. Zeppelins sped over the city. Rose could only guess what these structures were. Factories of war that David spoke about quietly. London suffered.

"If the universe intended a Time Lord to travel and heal the world," he said spitefully, "- they would have spared the Doctor. Instead I am the last of the Time Lords," he said, a manic grin spreading across his handsome features. One hand was on the window pane as he tapped a beat.

"The sound of drums, they call me to war,' he whipered. 'This is precisely what the universe has intended. A new order. A New Gallifrey. One ruled by the Time Lords. You apes keep on living when an ancient and mighty race is reduced to dust. I will resurrect Gallifrey."

He turned Rose around and pushed her against the windows. His move was so sudden that she hit the back of her head against the glass hard. Rose winced in pain, tears rushing to her eyes. She blinked back the tears furiously and struggled to get her words out.

'You are wrong, this is my world now. And I'll do anything to protect this world.'

"I preferred you when you were annihilating Daleks. Didn't you just destroy? None of this sanctimoniousness," he said, leering down to Rose, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her face.

"I will stop you," she whispered defiantly. She looked into his eyes, she was terrified, the fear clambering at her throat. If he was half as smart as the Doctor, there was no way she could stop him.

As if on cue, the alarms for red alert blared. There was a knock on the door, a few sharp raps. The Master pounded on the glass pane, furious, before marching to the door to answer it.

Rose felt the hope rise within her again. No. She was Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. She was not going to let a rogue Time Lord stop her. It was time for her to find a way to escape.