The LotS Club
Doctor Who fanfic by Teribane
Rating - T
Summary - And so, let the twenty-second meeting of the Last of the Species Club... begin! -Oneshot-
AN - My first Doctor Who fic, and it's crack. For shame.
Um. I honestly have no idea when this is set. Right before Gridlock, maybe?
Enjoy!
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And so, let the twenty-second meeting of the Last of the Species Club... begin!
"Ow. Just ow. You couldn't have been a bit more gentle? Just so, you know, it wouldn't clash painfully with the constant drumming in my head?" grumbled the Master. "And you can't use the excuse that you didn't remember, this has got to be the... let's see, it's our twenty-second meeting, isn't it?"
The Face of Boe had the grace to look embarrassed.
"Oh, do stop whining," said the Doctor. "Besides, you're technically not the last of our species, since there's two of us. We're lucky to be here at all."
"I thought we agreed in the first meetingthat last of the species was five or less," the Master growled. "And let it be noted that I continue to object to them being here, even if they aren't breaking that rule."
"Let's just go get drunk, shall we?" asked the Doctor good-naturedly, dragging off his fellow Time Lord by the arm.
In the corner which the Master had indicated, the Cult of Skaro lurked.
"I STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND," complained Dalek Jast.
"WHY ARE WE HERE?"
"SILENCE, THAY. THE CULT OF SKARO WAS CREATED TO LEARN FROM OUR ENEMIES AND DEVISE NEW STRATEGIES FOR SURVIVAL."
"WE ARE CERTAINLY SURROUNDED BY ENEMIES HERE," agreed Dalek Caan. "BUT WHY CAN WE NOT JUST EXTERMINATE THEM NOW AND DEVISE STRATEGIES LATER? BESIDES, I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY CAME UP WITH SOMETHING?"
Dalek Sec considered this for a moment. "BECAUSE THEN I WOULD BE BORED," he decided, sounding rather self-righteous - or as self-righteous as an emotionless Dalek could get. "NOW, HOW ARE THOSE NEW PIG SLAVES COMING ALONG?"
A blob of goo passed by, looking distastefully at them, then guided another, slightly smaller, blob to the drinks.
At the refreshment table, Jack had somehow managed to get very intoxicated on perfectly harmless fruit juice, and was making dew-eyes at anybody and anything that passed by. "So, you see, you s-see seeee," he said to Chantho in passing, then keeled over into the punch bowl. He straightened, wibbling, collapsed onto a convenient armchair and continued his heart-to-heart with a potted plant, which was also the last of its particular genus. "'M actually the last o' m' - wha' wa' that word? Like, like, type, kin', oh right, species - unlike Misters High-n-Mighty Time Lords over there. An' the first. Jack the 'Nkill'ble H'man, howsthatsound? Stupid Time Lords, don' see em goin' 'round doin' any lordin'. More like bouncin' aroun' time'n'space. An' can't even be bother'd to pick up lonesome travel'rs." After a moment's consideration, he pouted, then staggered up and wandered off to see if there was anyone else he hadn't flirted with by now.
Chantho looked around a bit, then quietly followed the two Time Lords, blushing. Professor Yana always acted so much more evil at these meetings.
"You know what's annoying?" complained the Doctor. "Having to pretend I don't know you're alive. I'm always on the verge of just saying 'Bugger this' and going off to the end of the universe, only I'm not allowed. And then Martha keeps wondering why I look so depressed."
"Yeah, well, at least you don't have to Chameleon Arch yourself every time," groused the Master. "I am getting sick of opening that fob-watch, I swear I am."
Who's up for another drinking game? the Face of Boe projected, and the Master groaned again. Still, he didn't even pretend to resist getting dragged over to the communal circle.
And a good time was had by all.