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Chapter 2 – The Cabinet Room

Harold Saxon walked through the throng of well-wishers and congratulators as he headed towards the cabinet room. He tapped his fingers on his thigh impatiently to the rhythm that constantly pounded through his head, day and night. He needed to get in contact with the Doctor, it was one of the most crucial factors of his plan, but first there was another merely annoying matter to take care of.

His partner followed him, slightly behind but always smiling confidently, her golden hair catching the sunlight and her steps graceful but strong. He had never believed that he would learn to love, but a mission of spite and malice had opened his heart and now he could not imagine life without his devoted companion.

Halting suddenly outside the cabinet door he turned around and raised his hands in triumph as the crows around him applauded wildly.

"I'm so proud of you," Came that voice with it soft London accent and loving tones, turning his eyes to her he gave her an honest smile and stretched out his fingers to caress her cheek, before he leaned in to kiss her again. His wife's lips tasted of strawberries and cream, he could never get enough. He reluctantly pulled away, longing to kiss her again and again and just forget his scheme. Ignoring the whispering people about him he tugged her into his arms and hugged her tight, savouring the feel of her curvy frame against his chest. She was the only one who understood him, the only one who had loved the same man and been let down as badly as he had been, she shared his pain and she shared the same maddening drumbeat that ruled his head. From the moment they had met there had been something between them, need and desperation and love; and over time that love had grown and grown until it was so strong they had felt able to commit themselves to each other for eternity. They were perfect together. Slowly Harry let her go, sure of the fact that when he returned from his dreadful deed she would be waiting for him with her soothing touch and healing voice.

The Jones girl walked into the room and the Master frowned when she asked what she was supposed to be doing. He racked his brain to recall her name: Tash? Titch? Tish? Yes Tish, that was it. Tish Jones. Giving his lover a rapid, sly wink he placed a hand under Tish's chin, tilting her head up and saying,

"Just stand there and look gorgeous." The look she gave him was hilarious, she obviously wasn't sure whether to be flattered or disgusted, in the end she simply nodded and with a final secretive glance at his spouse the Master entered the cabinet room.

An hour and a half later Mrs Saxon crept down the now deserted hallway, the faces of many deceased politicians staring at her knowingly. She brushed the feeling aside swiftly and slipped into the cabinet room. Inside her husband was pulling the gas mask from his handsome face.

The bodies of the cabinet ministers lay with their heads on the table or sprawled inelegantly on the thick pile carpet, all had their eyes bulging from their sockets and mouths hanging in a grotesque display. The blonde woman was unaffected; she hopped carelessly over one of the bodies to reach her partner's side and helped him undo the tight straps of the mask. The event had been planned for months and the reality of it did not shock her, she had seen enough death in her life to be used to it by now. But what really scared her was that someone would discover the genocide before they'd had time to clear up the mess. When Harold wrapped his arms around her body she buried her head into the crock of his neck, breathing in his familiar and safe smell of musk, and relaxing as he stroked her yellow tresses adoringly.

"It's all alright," he reassured her, crooning softly into her ear, "If I could stop now and take all your pain and worries away I would, but you know if we're to get what we want, what we deserve we have to be strong and carry on with our plan." His wife sighed and rested her head upon his chest, as she looked over the corpses before her, determined to show her beloved that she was strong and sure, the last thing she ever wanted to do was to disappoint him. She loved him too much.

"I know darling. I want this as much as you, you should know that. The last thing I want to do is stop now." Chuckling Mr Saxon hugged Mrs Saxon closer, wanting her to be as close to him as humanly possible, wanting to draw out her fears and dispel then with a simple, loving touch.

"Are you scared Mrs Saxon?"

With a smile, as he clutched her to him possessively, she shook her head,

"No." Harry chuckled, continuing to fondle with her hair and hold her close, he sighed almost tiredly,

"Oh Rose, my Rose." He said as Rose Saxon, the previous Rose Tyler, peered up into his dark eyes from his arms and stroked the skin on his neck, as happy and content as she had ever been.

Dun-dun-duuuuuuun! The Master and Rose are married! How saw that coming? All right you smarty pants! :D

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