A/N: I just realized that this story is now my longest one by word count! On FFN it pushes over that mark with this chapter, and by AO3/word processing standards it was last chapter. Thank you, everyone, for suffering through my antics as long as you have. I know you're out there.
Fifty-Four
After all was said and done, there was little that Malcolm Tucker had to worry about in regards of the wedding of his stepson to his niece's best friend. Despite certain important-to-the-event people having almost come to a complete stop to look for him and Jamie during their accidental time shift, everything was set up and functioning in time for the bride to walk down the aisle per schedule and make it look as though everything had been planned as such.
Thusly, the ceremony and the reception was a big success overall. With the bride's mother behaving herself and plenty of food and drinks and a playlist longer than Jamie was tall, there was little to stop the celebration from going well into the night. It was "a real banger", as some of the guests were describing it, and it made the party-throwers feel all the better about their slapdash and last-minute efforts. Malcolm even knew that he was off his wife's Shit List when she rested her head on his shoulder while they were dancing late in the evening, the song slow enough to allow most to merely shuffle in-place instead of actually dancing…
…though to be fair, the subsequent make-up sex with Kate later that night didn't hurt either… but who was keeping track?
The rest of April passed in a bizarre, semi-tense haze. With referendum campaigning hanging over their heads outside Mainframe UK, those in UNIT who had to worry about the near-constant badgering from this official and that group were glad there was a place where they could run and hide in their work. An international status to their organization meant that they had options, and as May rolled around, it allowed for some sense of normalcy to hang in their air, even one soured by looming uncertainty. As it was manifesting differently for everyone, it only made sense that some were handling it better than others.
"Who the fuck do you invite to a child's birthday party when none of your friends have wee nips anymore?"
Aparajita glanced over at Malcolm from her spot on the couch in his office. He was on his computer, his brow furrowed as he was scrolling through something (it was news; she knew in her bones it was one news site or another), while she had camped out with her laptop and mobile for a change in scenery and the chance to slouch more severely. Although she had been able to hear him muttering the question to himself several times already, it was the first time that day he had asked her personally.
"You know I'm the wrong person to ask this question, yeah?" she reminded him. He half-shrugged, still too engrossed with his computer to commit to the entire motion. "Why don't you ask Husak? Her son's a teenager now, isn't he?"
"That doesn't mean she has the answers," he replied. "Neither does Hart in regards to his boys, and they're much closer in age to mine."
"Just invite the kids over and have some cake," she suggested. "Maybe get Miss Oswald over there too. I'm sure she'd love to see Conall on his birthday."
"…if she's feeling up to it, anyhow."
"I'm sure she would be. Oswald's not the kind of person to just completely drop out of her child's life—she'll be there whether you ask her or not."
"Don't know if that's a relief or a threat, but I'll take it," he replied. It was then that he heard footfalls in the corridor and the door opened—Kate. "Love, what are we doing for Conall's birthday?"
"I was thinking along the lines of just inviting the kids over, Oswald as well, and just doing cake and ice cream," she replied, plopping a stack of folders on his desk, as Themba was on holiday and couldn't do it otherwise. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Our son would need to have proper friends before we begin to consider anything else."
"Fuck—I'm not ready for him to have friends," Malcolm cursed. "That means other small children running around the house and that is not acceptable."
"Tell that to November," Aparajita chimed in from the couch. She could feel the daggers that her boss was trying to glare into her, which only made her smirk. "Hey, all I know is that Kanda and I follow one another online and her last selfie looked just off enough for me to know that she's starting to fill out a little before the bump officially arrives."
"Don't listen to her," Kate said, letting out a sigh. It was difficult to not laugh at her husband, as the expression on his face was a mixture of disgust and horror, both at the affirmation of there soon being another child guaranteed to be running around their house and the reminder that said child was going to come from his daughter-in-law—whom he had known as a child herself. "I'm having an intern fetch us lunch, come on."
"It's a shame I have to leave my own office to get some fucking respect around here," he grumbled. Aparajita flipped him her middle finger as Malcolm was gently pulled out of the office by his wife. They went into the lift and up to Kate's office, which already had sandwiches and tea waiting for them. "That was fast."
"I waited a bit before coming down to get you," she said, sitting down on the sofa. "Now I see that the timing was perfect." Kate saw that instead of sitting next to her, Malcolm was headed towards the glass wall, looking down over the atrium. "What's the matter? You seem distracted."
"I guess I don't want to think too much about anything right now," he admitted quietly. He scanned over the inhabitants of the atrium, watching as many attempted to juggle eating lunch while watching over their own work stations. "Every time I begin to think about something good, I get reminded of the shit that's going on, and how now that I'm in UNIT, I'm virtually powerless to try to steer it all towards something a little less shit."
"You're not powerless—you could always strong-arm some old Whitehall acquaintances," she mentioned. Kate took a bite of sandwich in an attempt to hint that lunch was still on. "You could call Cal or Nicola or… who was that MP you and Jamie were laughing about at the wedding?"
"Julius," Malcolm replied. He lingered by the wall for a moment before joining his wife on the sofa, downing half of his tea in one go. "I just want to concentrate on Conall's birthday, or even how by this time next year there'll be two of them underfoot, without my mind wandering to that fucking cesspool I was lucky enough to escape."
"Give it two years… then they'll both be running around."
"…a thought that both is terrifying and good to think about." He munched pensively on a bit of sandwich, staring ahead of him at a speck of air without much focus.
"Hey." She patted his knee, redirecting his attention. "Don't worry your pretty head—we've got this."
"Do we?"
"Yes. I think we can handle a first birthday, keeping the planet safe, and maneuvering around whatever June brings. Now if your mother was also coming for a visit, then that would be a different story…"
"Fuck—I don't need Mam complicating things—don't scare me like that."
"Then relax. I'm not saying that you should forget everything else, but reminding you that it could always be worse. You could still be in politics at the moment, and where would that leave us, hmm…?"
"Not in a good place."
"Exactly." She kissed him on the cheek and smiled knowingly. "Would you like to talk about the logistics of our son's birthday before or after we finish off dessert?"
"There is dessert?"
"…in the panic room."
After; after dessert was good.
Finally, May 14th was upon the Stewart-Tuckers. Being a Saturday, most of the rest of the family would be able to attend the party without issue, which meant Kate decided it was going to be late in the afternoon, closer to an early dinner. With Malcolm and Gordon putting in an early day at the Mainframe, Fiona off getting the cake and other supplies, and Kanda coming along with Lex and Euan later, it was just Kate alone in the house with Conall as a familiar-sounding motorbike came rolling up the drive. She left the child in his play area and went towards the kitchen, seeing as her visitor was placing a brightly-wrapped box and her helmet on the counter next to the door.
"Ah, Clara, there you are," Kate beamed. "I was hoping you'd make it."
"Of course," she replied. The two women hugged one another tightly—it had been too long, despite the inherent risks that came with her presence. "Why would I miss as big a day as today?"
"Which is why I'm glad Wednesdays are the troublesome days," Kate said. Clara's face fell and she avoided eye contact, sending a red flag in Kate's brain. "It's getting to be more than Wednesdays now, isn't it?"
"You don't know what it's like," Clara claimed. "That rush, that feeling you get when you're with him… in the TARDIS… with literally everything at your fingertips… it's indescribable. I almost can't get enough anymore."
"Many before you have dealt with that…"
"…and many after me shall, and not everyone can handle it." Clara exhaled heavily and forced herself to smile again. "Enough of that. Where's the birthday boy?"
"Right this way." Kate led Clara through the house to the sitting room, where Conall was playing in his enclosure, the plastic fencing threatening to fall as he bounced up against it in excitement.
"Muh! Muh!" he gasped. He stomped his feet as Clara approached, his giggling shriek high and light.
"Yes my darling—Mummy's back," Clara cooed. She picked him up and held him close, rocking him back and forth. "How have you been behaving for Mam and Dad?"
"Mam," Conall replied, pointing at Kate.
"He's been very good," Kate elaborated with a laugh. "He's starting to learn actual words, which shouldn't surprise me as much as it does."
"Were Gordon and Fiona quieter babies?" Clara wondered.
"No… it's more like Malcolm needs to start watching what he says around Conall, or he shall be the one marching his arse down to playgroup, ready to apologize for inadvertently giving the entire class a new, and rather rude, favorite word." Clara stifled a laugh—it was disturbingly easy to see, knowing how colorful Malcolm's phraseology could get. "How about if we put together some tea? There's a bit of time yet before the other guests show up, and I expect Fiona to still be out for a while…"
"Sounds lovely."
Clara carried Conall as she followed Kate back to the kitchen, where the toddler was allowed to wander around while his mums put together tea. The boy got a baby-biscuit to gnaw on and some tea-tinged milk in a sippy cup while the women got proper biscuits and cuppas. Clara let him sit in her lap in lieu of the high chair, which made Kate shake her head.
"…what…?" Clara frowned. "What's with that look?"
"What are you going to do when you walk in and he doesn't remember?" she asked. "We've been lucky so far—what'll happen when his being a child catches up to us?"
"Let's deal with that once it happens," Clara insisted. She stroked Conall's hair—so fluffy and soft—as the boy relished the attention she was giving him. "I just want to enjoy this moment."
"…that makes at least one of us…"
Kate and Clara both tensed and turned their attention to the door at the sound of the new voice. There, standing with her fists on her hips, was the Master, looking mildly vexed and bemused both at the scene before her.
"How'd you get here?!" Kate hissed as she reflexively stood. The Master read the room for half a moment before stepping forward.
"Now isn't this rude? Not inviting the prettiest of the fairy godmothers makes it so that curses befall one's children."
"Don't you dare," Kate warned, stepping in between Conall and the Master. Clara held the boy close, making certain that he didn't try to slip away and wander off.
"Dare I what?" the Master asked, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, the nipper. Don't worry—your wee bairn is safe from me. I don't like children, even if they are the Doctor's child."
"What makes you assume that?" Kate asked. "It only makes sense to protect a child if you can, even a lowly Human child… especially a lowly Human child with no way of defending itself." The Master examined her fingernails for a moment, making certain none of them had chipped during the journey over.
"It's all simple Time Lord nonsense, really," she explained. "I've run into the Doctor's genetic signature so many times now that it's painfully obvious… especially when it's being fussed over by the very person I all but shoved in his arms, hoping he'd get a leg up and have some fun for once."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Clara asked.
"Hmm… I guess not." The Master sat down at the table and helped herself to some tea. "I take it you're the only two who are aware of the entire situation as it is?"
"Us and a select number of people," Kate said. She and Clara both remained standing, ready to move against the Master at a moment's notice. "As far as most people know, he is a child my husband and I adopted… just an unassuming Human child."
"…and what does the Doctor think about all this?" After waiting for a reply and getting nothing, the Master feigned shock. "You mean, the father does not know? He had to of known, with the whole puffing up like some flesh-balloon and all… unless… yes… you kept him away somehow, didn't you? It had to of been months…"
"That is our business, not yours," Clara stated. The Master tutted, wagging her finger in disapproval.
"Anything that involves that sap and his progeny most certainly involves me, as I have a special interest in the Doctor and those who are connected to him. I do have to say: when I played matchmaker with the two of you, I didn't think I actually found someone who could knock gametes and spawn with him."
"…what do you mean…?" Clara wondered cautiously. "Isn't that a risk that people take?"
"Not Time Lords, and certainly not Time Lords with any being who is not a native of Gallifrey," the Master shrugged. She sipped her tea and delicately picked up a biscuit. "You might be Gallifreyanoid, but you are genetically nowhere near our kind. It should be extremely difficult for a Time Lord to sync their fertile period with that of another species, and even then the genetic variance should be enough to eliminate most of that particular risk, rendering the couple functionally barren. This sort of union producing offspring is, frankly put, a big oopsie-doodle of a taboo for a very good reason."
"…and what, might I ask, is the punishment for this taboo?" Kate asked firmly. The Master put down her cup and folded her hands atop the table.
"If there were one thing I was to ever say that you should believe completely and truly, it is this: I don't know and I don't plan on finding out soon," she explained. "This happens so rarely that the punishment is not common knowledge, even amongst proper Time Lords, and I want to watch which direction this goes in before I start accusing my old school mate of heresy. Your secret is safe with me… for now."
"So… you're really going to keep our secret?" Clara frowned critically. "Why should you? What motivates that silence?"
"I just told you: I would be accusing my old school mate of heresy of the highest order and who knows what'll happen to him? If he regenerates because of me, I want to be the one to pull the trigger, not a firing squad." She looked at Conall and paused in thought. "Besides, I'd likely be the one who'd have to dispose of the nip and I do so dislike children. They're moist where they shouldn't be and smell rude at the worst times." The Master cringed in disgust and continued munching her biscuit. "I babysat once—if it hadn't've been so gross I would have sat on the baby."
"You're twisted," Clara stated.
"I can't help that I'm completely and utterly… bananas," the Master said casually. "What I can help, however, is by keeping that pants-soiling secret of yours a secret… I swear by the bond the child's father and I share… that is, until I need it to be not so."
"…and when might that be?" Kate asked. "This child is here because this is the safest place for him to be not only for his own well-being, but for the planet and galaxy as well. You know as well as we do how existing can be dangerous."
"True…" The Master finished off her cuppa and stood, her eyes not straying from Conall. "One day I'll introduce our dearest Doctor to this wee scamp. Until then… know I'm watching you."
"That's it…?" Kate wondered. "No other warnings?"
"If this was a plant done on-purpose, then there would be someone watching from afar anyhow to make sure nothing went kersplat on the pavement; since it won't be done officially due to the nature of this child's existence, then unofficially will have to do." The Master sauntered over towards the door and half-turned, looking back at Kate and Clara over her shoulder. "If you do anything… anything at all that I don't like, then just know that you've been warned."
A shimmering haze surrounded her and in a flash, the Master was gone—a vortex manipulator.
"Sweet fuck…" Kate half-whispered. She looked at Clara and watched her sink to the floor, Conall still in her arms. The boy was looking back and forth between his two mums, wondering what was going on. "Are you alright?"
"She knows…" Clara choked out. "Oh God… she knows…"
"Mam…?" Conall squeaked, looking at Kate. His eyes got wide as Clara's, the boy looking as though he was going to cry.
"I don't know how she was able to track us down, but she'll have a more difficult time of it next go-around," Kate swore. She knelt down next to Clara and Conall, realizing how badly the former was shaking. "She won't hurt us. I promise."
"She's a Time Lady… and much better at all that stuff than the Doctor," Clara said. "He's admitted as such to me. If she wants something, she'll get it."
"…and I'm telling you that I won't let her spook us that easily," Kate said. Okay, sure, it was partially a lie, considering how they both were very afraid right then and there, but she knew it was possible to not allow the Master to have the upper hand in her game of wits. Clara twitched as the door opened—instinctively pulling Conall close to her chest again—and they looked at the new intruder: Fiona.
"What the hell is going on here?" the young woman asked. She put down the cake box on the counter and looked at the table, counting the used cups. "Did Dad come home for a bit? His car's not in the drive…"
"I'd take that every day compared to what just happened," Kate said. She helped Clara up as Fiona got Conall. "We just got a social visit from a Time Lord."
"Oh fuck—the one who murders or the one we're afraid will murder or an entirely new one altogether?"
"The Master," Kate said. She watched as her daughter went pale—despite not being part of UNIT, she knew just enough to be aware of how much of a fucking clusterbomb that was. "She figured Conall out."
"…how…?"
"We don't understand why or how, but we understand that she does," Kate said. More things began to crash into her mind, the huge implications behind the Master's visit being too large to have crossed her mind all at once. "Get me my mobile—I need to call Malcolm."
"Your mobile's here on the table…"
"No, the work one. I need this encrypted and off the normal telecommunications grid and I don't know if my legs will hold out."
"Right." Fiona left the room for a moment and returned with her mother's mobile. When she returned, Clara was sitting at the table with Conall, while Kate was shakily continuing tea. "Hey, I got this—just call Dad."
"Thanks." Kate fumbled with her mobile, but was able to put a call through. It rang ominously; each passing tone through the speaker couldn't pass soon enough.
"Shag-a-Scot Sex Services, how many I direct your call?"
"Malcolm, where are you?"
"Still at work—need me to pick something up before I fuck off for the day?"
"Where is Gordon? Bismuth? Dr. Shaw? Fuck… I'm going to need the Osgoods and Ji-Yu too… eventually…"
The line was silent for a moment, her husband clearly digesting her tone and words. "What happened?"
"The Master was here, and she knows about Conall; figured him out with one glance."
"…fuck." Another pause. "Do you need me to warn them while I'm still here?"
"Please… and do it discreetly. Don't explain Conall to R&D and Tech quite yet, but just let them know we're going to need to adjust the shields here, as it did nothing to keep a vortex manipulator out. Make sure you're behind closed doors too—we need none of this getting out. It's why I'm telling you now over the phone and letting you spread the word compared to repeating myself on here and further risk being accidentally overheard."
"Consider it done."
The call ended and Kate placed her mobile on the table, staring at it cautiously. A fresh cuppa and some biscuits had been placed before her, which allowed for a steeling sip.
"There goes our dessert-before-dinner party," Fiona frowned. She made a face at Conall, which caused the toddler to giggle. "You bogey; don't go attracting space-psychos on us now. That's precisely why you're here: to prevent that." Conall babbled at her importantly, seemingly irritated with his sister. "Don't you sass me—I know how to hide your biscuits."
"Why can't we be left alone?" Clara wondered. She continued stroking Conall's hair as she looked over at Kate with tears stubbornly welling in her eyes. "All we're doing is trying to do well by a child—why must the Time Lords always butt in and threaten with their rules and taboos and feel as though it's their place to threaten the rest of time and space into submission?"
"Let's face it: they'd be terrible lords and ladies if at least some of them didn't," Fiona offered. Seeing how shaken Clara and her mother still were, she knew that the only way the birthday party was going to get off the ground was going to be if she took charge.
The sooner the other party-goers could come over and take their minds off batshit-insane Time Lady antics, the better off everyone was going to be.
