A/N:

Summary: Rassilon and team TARDIS (Sorry, Team: Braxiatel's Capsule) get into it a little

Notes: It was Canada Day yesterday. Which means some social-distancing BBQ's and beer on the patio while the neighbours set of fireworks that you hope to all isn't lit by drunken Canadians and gets accidentally aimed at your roof when they singe their fingers on the lighter .. I was - as a result - not in a particularly well state of being today. Three coffees and a sweet tea kind've drink that was handed to me by my son had little effect. I'm not 20 anymore... I keep forgetting that.

That said, I didn't quite get as much done as I had hoped.

But I do hope that you enjoy this small offering today. I certainly hope it doesn't disappoint at all...

~~oooOOOooo~~

Having an audience with his Lord President wasn't exactly an odd occurrence for Narvin. As Coordinator of the CIA, he was regularly called upon to attend meetings and discussions. He was hardly on a friendly or familiar level with the old man, but there was a certain level of respect shared between them…

…Fake though it may be on both their parts.

What was odd, however, was the Lord President showing up at his office. Typically, he'd receive a polite summons and a Chancellery Guard escort to appear in the Presidential Office. Rassilon made people come to him – never would he lower himself to be the one to show up at someone else's door.

"My Lord President," he remarked with clear surprise. "To what do I owe the honour?" He made a show of looking to the window. "At this hour?"

"Narvin," Rassilon said with a straightening in his shoulders. "If I may call you Narvin, of course."

"You may," he answered with a light tip in his head that was about the closest to any kind of bow he'd give the man. "My Lord President."

"Rassilon," he said with a wave of his hand, but no smile. "If I may enter."

Narvin's brow arched upward. There was a light sense of discomfort in the very back of his mind. Rassilon was Lord President, he didn't need to ask permission to enter anyone's office. He walked around his desk and swept his hand in the air with invitation. "Is there anything I can do for you, My Lord?"

"A pour of your strongest beverage," he answered with a light lift in his nose.

It was clearly spoken in jest rather than an actual request. Narvin could tell that alcohol was the very last thing his Lord President was looking for. He let out a long breath of apology. "Unfortunately, I don't tend to partake in the consumption of foods or beverages that lead to inebriation of any form." His eyes trailed after Rassilon as he wandered toward his desk – and to the gift basket send to him from Earth. He tried not to wince in worry. "I need complete control of my faculties at all times; such is the life of …"

"Of Gallifrey's top spy," he answered without looking at him. He ran his fingertip in a line along Narvin's desk, through the spray of coffee beans littered on the desk. "And what is this?"

"My belief is that it is the organic compound which is the base of a hot beverage from Mutter's Spiral," he answered flatly. "A gift from former Cardinal Braxiatel."

Rassilon flicked his head toward Narvin with frightening speed. There was a hot look of aggression inside his ancient glare. "A gift? Are you on friendly terms with Braxiatel?"

"Hardly," he answered with a scoff. He flicked his hand toward the package with annoyance. "He knows that I am looking for him and his brother. He taunts me from time to time with a gift – if you will – from his most recent location." He folded his arms across his chest. "Last week he sent me a live eight-legged monstrosity from Sol-III called a Tarantula. Nearly stopped both of my hearts when it jumped out of the box." He pointed to a small charred circle on the floor in the corner of the office. "You'll see what remains of it over there. Dead or not, I'm not cleaning it up."

Rassilon did shift his eyes to the charred stain on the otherwise pristine floor. "Full staser setting, Narvin? A little on the side of overkill, don't you think, for an insect?"

"You didn't see how big it was."

Rassilon shifted his eyes back to Narvin. "I wouldn't be too concerned about anymore gifts from Irving Braxiatel," he said with a light smirk. "Our former Lord Cardinal is no longer a concern to any of us."

Narvin held back the expression of horror he knew was trying to fall across his face. "And by that you mean?"

"He's dead," he answered simply. "You can remove Irving Braxiatel from your list of Lords I want found."

"How?" Narvin asked within a whisper.

"The method of his demise really is irrelevant," he huffed in reply. "And while I do understand that it will give you an incomplete record, and your quite legendary reputation of anal-retentiveness toward your record keeping. I will ask that you accept my assurance that he has been neutralised and will not look into it any further."

"As you wish, Lord President," he answered with a light lower in his head. His hearts fell for Romana and the grief she must be suffering. "What about the Lord Doctor?" he queried. "And Braxiatel's mate, Romana?"

"Such a foolish child, our Romanadvoratrelundar" he answered with a huff of disappointment in his voice. "Such potential in that young Daughter of Time. How she found herself within the clutches of such an abhorrent, arrogant fool, I will never know."

"Braxiatel is – was – as charming as he was manipulative," he offered. "Romana, she was quite…" He wasn't sure how to continue that statement. His dear friend loved her mate unconditionally: flaws, deceit, betrayals, and all.

"She was immature," Rassilon ventured knowingly. "Drawn in by the one who most embodied the Prydonian spirit within all of us."

"I will complete and file the report of Braxiatel's demise on your behalf," he said with a low voice. "Will there be anything else, My Lord?"

Gods, he had to get this man out of here. There was a pain inside his own hearts, and he wanted to properly digest the information in his own way – out of the view of his murderer. And no matter who it was that pulled the trigger to end the lives of an old friend, he had no doubt at all in his mind that it was Rassilon who held the bulk of culpability for his death.

"There is," Rassilon said with a firm tone as he lifted his head high and proud to look down on the much shorter man. "I have been issued a challenge of appearance from a young Human that I feel quite compelled to answer to."

"A human?" Narvin balked. "You wish to answer to the challenge of a human?" His brows crashed together in a tight frown. "Why would you even consider such a thing?"

"Are you questioning me, Coordinator?"

"In this instance, yes I am," he spat out. "You are a Time Lord, the supreme leader of us all. Why would you even entertain the notion of answering to a pathetic creature like a human?"

"This one is special," he answered darkly. "The mate of our Lord Doctor, and one I'm intrigued to accept an audience with."

Narvin shook his head. "No. I won't allow this."

"Again, you're questioning your Lord President?" He swept his hand in a presentation of the office as a whole. "I can take all of this from you."

"It wouldn't be the first time a President has taken it from me," he growled. "And each time, it was deemed a mistake to do so." His eyes narrowed. "There is no one else on Gallifrey with the knowledge, skill, experience, and aptitude to take on the role with any form of success than me."

"Nor the arrogance and petulance, it seems."

"I am CIA," he reminded him. "They are imperative virtues for the position."

"Indeed," he purred. "However, when issued an order from your Lord President, it is imperative that you obey that command."

His teeth grit tightly together, and he dropped into a low and somewhat facetious bow. "As you wish, Lord President." He lifted his eyes but remained in a low stoop. "And what am I needed to provide to you in order to facilitate your order?"

"I need to travel to Estrail," he answered with a lift in his chin and shoulders.

"Then take your capsule," he answered blandly. "I am sure that Traffic Control and the Transduction Barrier teams will allow you to dematerialise."

He paused a moment before answering, and when he did it was with a slightly guarded tone. "Materialisation of a capsule on Estrail is too risky."

"And why is that?"

"Unstable magnetic forces due to solar flares of the sun," he answered carefully.

"I wasn't aware there was any solar flare activity in that particular region of late."

"Why would you have needed to check?" Rassilon asked curiously.

Narvin's eyes pinched. His lips pursed outward and he dared venture what he thought might be a viable excuse. "There have been reports of Capsules disappearing in that solar system. I have been looking into potential causes…"

"I'd recommend you cease any investigations into Estrail," Rassilon warned. "That area is under the surveillance of the Scientific Council and does not concern the Celestial Intervention Agency."

"Disappearing Time Capsules certainly does," he argued lightly. "The registry is looking a little light on the number of remaining registered Capsules since the end of the war, and any sudden new de-registrations do set of alarms within the Agency. I shouldn't need to remind you that we can't allow any of our time ships to get into the hands of…"

"Yes, yes, I know," Rassilon said with a dismissive grunt. "There is no risk of that, I assure you, Coordinator." He let out a breath. "I understand that personal Vortex Manipulators and wrist-worn travel devices were outlawed some time ago."

"They were," Narvin confirmed carefully. "Lady President Romana…"

"She is no longer President," Rassilon remarked harshly. "I am your Lord President." He waited for Narvin to nod in agreement before continuing. "Despite Romana's orders to destroy such technologies, I will expect that the Agency kept certain items from the incinerator."

Narvin merely looked at him. He didn't respond.

"And therefore, as your President, I am asking you to provide me with a travel device so that I can travel to Estrail."

Narvin shook his head. "For your own protection, I will decline." He held up his hand before Rassilon could argue. "If travel by capsule is too dangerous due to magnetic interference, then it stands to reason that travel via vortex manipulator or dimension hoper will be moreso."

"A risk I am willing to take."

"But not one that I will take, My Lord President," Narvin said flatly. "Especially for the rather pointless exercise of meeting with a human. Really, I can think of far better things to risk your lives on than that."

"Your opinion on the matter means very little to me, Narvin." He let out a huff. "Your in subordinance is quite frustrating."

"There are certain matters in which I outrank your office Lord President," he said with a sniff and a lift of his chin. "I shouldn't need to remind you that the protection of our Supreme Lord President is our highest priority. I said no to Romana, to Matthias, to Livia, and even to his Lord Doctor when the lot of them tried to pull a ridiculous manoeuvre such as what you are planning to do."

Rassilon's eyes narrowed with fury and disgust. "Coordinator. I will warn you that you couldn't have picked a worst time to act insubordinate and deny me the right to face those who have caused me slight this evening."

"What is this slight?"

"A challenge from a lowly human is not enough for you?"

Narvin shook his head. "Hardly. The taunt of a human would barely be a flicker of interest to me." The side of his mouth flicked up in a smile. "Not when I have the power to move far enough back in their timeline to ensure they were never born in the first place."

"An idea worth exploring," he muttered with a rub of his chin.

"But hardly worth the dent in the timeline," he said with a sigh. "What I can offer you, my Lord President, is a holographic projection to Estrail. It will answer the challenge of this human, whilst maintaining your safety here on Gallifrey."

He flicked a look toward him. "That is all you will provide me with?"

"Take it or leave it," he answered with a shrug. He walked toward a large filing cabinet against the wall and pulled open a drawer. From within he pulled a small case. He blew dust from across the top of it as he walked back. "I haven't used this in a while, but it is capable of crossing through dimensional walls and should easily broadcast your message to Estrail." He set the case on his desk and flipped open the lid. "Do bear in mind that it's not exactly a secure method of communication. We've found that the transmission wave can be easily hijacked if anyone has a decent grasp of radio transmissions – which is about sixty-percent of any of the species between Gallifrey and Estrail."

"I'll accept the risk," Rassilon said with a smirk.

"I'm sure you will." He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Just give me a moment to set it up, and I'll have the broadcast scanner locate a projection source on Estrail."

~~ooooOOOOoooo~~

She probably should have shrunk down somewhat underneath the heated and furious glare of the Time Lord President. His reputation was one of strength and power, an unyielding force of dominance and authority. What she looked upon, however, was an aged and withered looking man who oozed nothing except the stench of old age and self importance.

Honestly, he looked less a powerful Time Lord President and more like the leader of a coven of Hollywood-movie vampires. The withered and pathetic creature whose expiration date on sexiness and power ended several centuries earlier. Overthrown and destroyed by the youngsters he was supposed to control.

"So, you're Rassilon?" she asked with an obviously unimpressed raking of her eyes up and down the robe and floor-length silken tunic worn by all council members who walked the hallways of the Capitol. "In a dress an' all as well." She walked around the Doctor's protective form with a shake in her head and a slide of her hand around his hip. "How nice of you to dress up for me."

"Rose," the Doctor warned under his breath. He thrust up a hand to grab at her arm and prevent her from nearing the man. "I wouldn't…"

Rassilon shot him a look of warning and held up his hand to him. "Oh, do let her speak, Lord Doctor." His eyes shifted toward Rose and grinned dangerously. "You had so much to say earlier, didn't you?" His smile fell into an expression of disgust. "and in such discourteous and colourful language. I'm fascinated to hear what insulting diatribe will come from her mouth next."

"Wouldn't much be worried about my mouth," she said with a snarl.

"Rose, stop," the Doctor growled in warning. His grip tightened on her arm and he tried pulling her closer to himself. His eyes were hard on the Time Lord President. "Let me handle him."

Rassilon looked upon the Doctor with tiredness in his eyes and hummed to himself. "Are you sure that you're really in an appropriate state of mind for handling anything, Lord Doctor?" He put on an expression of sympathy. "It is my understanding that condolences are in order. Braxiatel was a remarkable Lord. Such an incredible shame that he fell victim to the abhorrent virus that has taken so many of our people."

Rose snarled and pulled her arm free of the Doctor's. "How dare you," she growled with a hard stride toward him. "How dare you think yourself worthy enough to even say his name."

"I wonder how you dare yourself to be worthy enough to demand an audience with the Supreme Lord President of Gallifrey," he countered with disdain in his eyes. "A pathetic and insignificant creature from a class five planet. Barely worth stepping on…"

"Oh, you arrogant piece of shit," she snarled as she fought off the Doctor's repeated attempts to grab her with large and awkward gloves and stormed forward. She pushed up her sleeves and swung her hand violently through the air toward his cheek with a loud grunt. Her hand swept through nothing and ended up spinning her in place with the force of it. She stumbled gracelessly with a stagger that dropped her against the Doctor's waiting chest. She looked at her hand and then to him with confusion in her eyes. "What the hell?"

"Holographic image," the Doctor said with a disgusted growl against her ear. "Seems the almighty Time Lord Leader was too busy to come to us in person."

"Too much of a coward," Leela corrected with a sneer as she holstered her blades and lifted to a taller stand. "Why am I not surprised by this?"

"Oh, I did try, Savage," he said with a slow slide of his eyes toward her. "But it seems the Celestial Intervention Agency – specifically Coordinator Narvin – feels that my personal attendance is somewhat risky."

"Nothing somewhat about it," Rose said with a growl. The arms that were around her waist were now held more securely than she could have assumed was possible due to his clumsy space suit, and she gave up on trying to struggle free. "Show the size of your set and tell Narvin to put you on the first capsule to Estrail. Better yet, put him on, let me talk to him. Oi! Narvin! Where are you?"

The Doctor warned her with her name against her ear.

Narvin's image walked into scene in a stand behind Rassilon. His head was low and his eyes lifted to peer at her with warning through his brows. He held his hands together in front of him and lifted the fingers of one to quietly ask for her calm.

"Be careful," the Doctor whispered against her ear. "He's in more danger there than any of us here right now."

"You're a fucking weasel," Rose spat toward Narvin. "You, and all of the self righteous fools in Council. How could you be part of what's going on here?"

"And just what is that?" Rassilon asked smoothly. "Just what is it that you think I'm doing here?"

"Killin' Time Lords," she spat out. "Sacrificing them…"

"I sacrifice no one," he snarled in reply. "How dare you accuse me of any such atrocity toward my own people." His eyes shifted up to the Doctor's face. "Tame your savage little beast and tell her to mind her words and the accusations that she makes."

"Welcome to your eternity, Child of Time," She drawled with a sneer. "The call of time demands that we, the Time Lords of Gallifrey, must reach up to enact the Ultimate sanction of our people. To elevate the Lords of time to the highest incarnation across the entire universe sacrifices must be made." Her breath drew in hard and long as she felt the Doctor's tight hold loosen just slightly as he gasped against her ear. "Thank you for your sacrifice Son of Time, Daughter of Time…"

Rassilon wore an expression of surprise that quickly turned into a sneer of fury. "How and where did you hear that, child?"

"I heard it in the voices of a thousand dying time capsules," the snapped as she finally pulled free of her husband's hold. "Capsules in pain and grieving the loss of their pilots. They told me. They let me see it all. The murder of the men and women they loved most in the entire universe at the hands of the one they had to trust more than any other."

"Impossible," he growled. "Communication on that level … it's only achievable between capsules. Not with their pilot, and certainly not in the inferior underdeveloped mind of a human." He pointed a finger at her, straightening his back into an arch to pull himself to an unnatural height over her as she walked toward his holographic image. "Coordinator Narvin," he growled back over his shoulder to the man standing behind him. "I order the CIA to find and arrest this … human…"

"On what charges?" he asked calmly with slow shake in head and an upward roll of his eyes to the ceiling.

"Treason, with the penalty of death."

"She isn't Gallifreyan," Narvin said quietly. "She cannot be held to our laws of treason."

His eyes flicked toward the Doctor. "Maybe not, but he can. And after centuries of this renegade Son of Time wreaking his havoc across all of space and time in complete contradiction to all of the laws of Rassilon, the universe will thank me to finally put an end to it." His eyes snapped toward Rose. "As I have done with Braxiatel and Ulysses before him, I will destroy the Doctor as well – the last of the hybrid abominations erased from Gallifrey. The purity of our people returned."

Rose stalked forward. "Don't you dare threaten him," she charged angrily at the same time she heard the Doctor plead for her to stop.

"And what do you plan to do about it, human?"

"Wanna find out?" she growled. She pointed toward where the funnel once spun. "You saw what I did to that, yeah?"

He blinked at her.

"That's nothing." She held her hands in fists at her side. "You don't know what lengths I'll go to protect the Doctor. I will rip apart all of reality for him, destroy anyone and anything that tries to hurt him. He's my entire universe, the man I love more'n anyone. He's my mate, my husband, the father to my children, and the single most important person to me in all time and space."

"Rose," the Doctor pleaded gently. "Don't…" His hearts both softened and hurt to finally hear some confirmation from her that her heart still beat for him as strongly as his did for her, but this wasn't the way he wanted to get that assurance. Not because of a threat. "Ignore him, it's not worth it."

"And the Daleks," she continued dangerously with a thrust of her hand behind her to point toward the Doctor. "They tried to kill him, didn't they? But I wasn't lettin' it happen." She held her hand up in front of her face and wiggled her fingers. "I destroyed an entire fleet of Daleks with the wave of my hand. This hand right here. All of them. The whole bloody lot of them." She panted angrily. "You? A coward Time Lord – a piece of cake by comparison."

"You really think so?" he challenged with a smile.

"Oh, I know so," she said with a sneer as she walked closer to his hologram. "Unlike this lot, I'm not scared of you at all."

"Do not think that my not talking means that I have fear, Rose," Leela corrected her. "I am not scared of this cretin. I will fight this weaselly creature at your side, Rose." She bared her blade to puncutate her desire. "I will take pleasure in avenging the death of Braxiatel."

"Get in line," Rose murmured.

"One heart each," Leela negotiated with a smile.

"Works for me."

Rassilon looked between the two of them. "I'm not afraid of either of you," he assured. "I am the Supreme Lord President of Gallifrey. The resurrected one. I cannot, and will not die – particularly at the hands of pathetic creatures such as yourselves."

"That makes us more dangerous, don't you think?" Rose queried as she moved closer to his image.

"Rose," the Doctor warned her. "Don't get too close."

"Why not?" she asked with a shrug. "It's a hologram, what can it do?" She turned from him to look at the hologram and gasped at the unreasonably close proximity she had to him. They were mere inches apart.

"Perhaps you should have listened to your mate," he warned her with a sneer in his lip as his hand curled around her throat and he squeezed tightly.

Rose choked and gasped. Her eyes blew wide as he straightened up and lifted her up onto her toes. Her hands scrabbled at his wrists, but only managed to swipe through the image. "Prydonian Telepathic mastery," he said to her with a laugh in his voice. "If you walk within my holographic field, and I can control your mind, Human. And right now, your mind believes I'm choking the life right out of you."

The Doctor launched from his place and threw his arms around her waist. With a long cry and a grunt he tugged at her, trying to draw her free of Rassilon's hold. "Let her go!" he demanded of him with a grunt. At the rear of the hologram, Leela attacked with her blades, each swipe only distorting the image rather than striking into his hearts. "Please, Rassilon. Let her go. She's nothing to you. Nothing in the great scheme of things."

"Oh, my dear Son of Time," he said with a laugh and a look into his helmet. "You have no idea just how important she really is."

"Kill me if you want," he pleaded in offering. "I'll surrender to you right now. Just please, leave my wife alone."

A stranger's voice huffed in with impatience. "Really, Lord Rassilon. Rose is so important to you that you're willing to choke the life out of her? Trust me when I say that if she's dead, she's no use to anyone – particularly you." He held a staser in his hand and looked toward the Doctor. "Now, Thete. If you wouldn't mind, please take a step back. You're in my way."

The Doctor retained his hold on his struggling and choking wife, but he watched upon the man in blue jeans and a sport jacket with wide eyes. "Brax?"

"Oh, forget it," he huffed with a flick of his eyes to the corner. "I always forget how much you lose any sense of intelligence where Rose is concerned." He flicked the aim of his weapon to fire at a curve of glass. With a squeeze of the trigger, a ribbon line of energy shot from his weapon, onto the glass, and then ricocheted onto a small electrical imaging device buried inside a chunk of concrete on the ground. Immediately the image of Rassilon dissipated and Rose fell hard onto the Doctor's chest. She gasped and coughed violently into his chest as she battled to find her breath. He lowered the both of them to the ground to better hold her as she stabilised her breathing.

"Thank you," he said down his shoulder but without actually looking toward him. "Again."

"It's becoming a bit of a habit. You're welcome. Just so you know, we're even now, so you can stop bringing it up."

"Bringing what up?"

"You'll find out. Just remember now and shut up about it from here on in." He tucked his weapon into the back waistband of his jeans. "Right. So. Which way did I go?" He was met with stunned silence from Leela and looked between them all with his brows seated high on his forehead in question. "Did none of you happen to see where I took off to?" He held up a large and nasty looking syringe filled with a glistening glowing substance. "Bit of a time crunch here, so if you don't mind?"

Tiallu yapped loudly at his hip, which captured his attention. With a light smile toward the wolf he gave a nod. "Ahh, yes. That's right, the mean one is with me, isn't he? Well. Come on. Take me to your mate." He looked to the Doctor. "Don't go anywhere until we get back. Thanks to this little debacle, the time for playing around arguing across a tabletop is officially over. We've got real work ahead of us, and a lot to discuss." He ducked through the crack in the wall after Tiallu, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Leela looked toward the Doctor with her brows high and her eyes wide. "Doctor. Was that … Braxiatel?"

He nodded slowly.

"He was the naked one, from inside the funnel?" she continued. "An older Braxiatel?"

Again, the Doctor nodded slowly.

"This means there are two of him here," she pressed further. "Two Braxiatels?"

He continued to nod slowly.

"Oh, this I do not like," she said with a low growl of worry. "That is too much hot air and arrogance in one place at one time. Romana will not be happy about this." Her eyes flicked to the Doctor. "Is this safe?"

"No." He shook his head in response. "Not in the slightest, Leela."

"Oh," she said with a slow nod of her head. She swallowed and then let her mouth stretch to a small smile. "Then this will be fun, won't it?"

~~oooOOOOooo~~