Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters, places, plots...Yeah you get the picture. My first ever Master/Rose fic, never thought I'd write one, but actually I really love writing it!

Chapter 5-The Lies

Rose sat on the sofa in her private rooms in Ten Downing Street reading quietly to herself but her mind not really focused on the words or the paper no instead her brain was full of the dreams that her and her much loved husband had come up with; the plans that would soon come to their terrific conclusion.

Suddenly the highly polished door was thrown open and a middle-aged woman wearing a terrible, patterned dress with cropped, dirty, blonde hair hurried in, followed by a flustered and sorry Tish Jones. The woman spoke hurriedly, jumping right into conversation with the Prime Minister's wife, she held out her hand for Rose to shake, but Rose did not move an inch. Soon the hand was retracted and the movement forgotten,

"I'm sorry Rose, may I call you Rose? I'm Vivien Rook from the Sunday Mirror, you've heard of me no doubt," Rose did not have the heart to admit she had never heard of the woman before in her life, "Well everyone's heard about Harold Saxon and his amazing rise to power; but I thought what about the wife? The first lady of Great Britain." Rose smiled, she knew what was going on, her and the Master had planned for it, they had planned for everything, and all for revenge and love. After all Rose was anything but stupid. Shrugging her shoulders and straightening out the pink, silken material of her blouse Rose motioned for the woman to sit down opposite her, and then dismissed Tish Jones. Tish, of course argued but Rose insisted and soon Vivien Rook had pushed her out of the door, closing it loudly and firmly in her face, leaving Tish cursing and hoping that Mr Saxon would never find out.

As soon as Mrs Rook had sat down her smiling countenance changed into one of solemnity and fear. "Mrs Saxon...Rose, I have reason to believe that you and your husband are putting peoples lives in jeopardy, the whole of the human race are in danger, grave danger." Staring at her hands which were sat motionless in her lap Rose tried to contain her laughter. Oh, this woman did not know the half of it. Raising her head Rose gazed at the other woman with questioning and worried eyes, she had been playing the part of the doting and mild wife of a politician for months, so it was not hard to act this scene,

"What are you talkin' about?" She asked innocently.

"You husband is not who he says he is," Vivien continued, "It's a lie. It's all a lie. His school, his degree, even his mother and father, it's all false," she leaned closer to Rose across the small coffee table, "And it is so obvious, the falsehoods are screaming at people, but no one seems to notice them. It's as if he has the whole world mesmerised," a folder of papers were pushed across the table and Mrs Saxon stared at them as if they were infected with some terrible disease.

"STOP IT!" she cried, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, fake of course, but convincing. However the stupid woman carried on, her allegations getting worse but more accurate with every passing second,

"Only the past 18 months are real. During the last year and a half there has been a real living and breathing Harold Saxon. His first appearance was when he launched the Archangel Satellite Network, and you should know seeing as you were with him."

"Leave NOW!" Shouted Rose again, shoving the file back to its owner and wringing her hands anxiously.

"But you," the woman began opening the blue cardboard pouch and taking out a small handful of paper, shaking it in front of Rose's face aggressively, "I've got research on you. Rose Tyler: born to a Jacqueline and Peter Tyler, not very well off, lived on the Powell Estate, father died when you were a baby. And then you disappear for a bit, all I can find of you is some vague information about you and a man called the Doctor. You travelled with him as his companion." Rose stiffened at the name, her bright eyes darkened and she stared daggers at Vivien, "And then comes the strangest thing, you're name on the list of the dead from the Battle at Canary Wharf, after that you vanish from all records until your reappearance as the wife of politician Harold Saxon," the paper disappeared again, "You and your husband have a life full of inconsistencies and lies and yet no one every queries it. I need to make it known Mrs Saxon."

"Are ya threatenin' me?" Rose said it so calmly it made the reporter nervous. She wasn't sure what was going on and now she did not think that coming here was so good a thing to do. Vivien forced out a chuckle,

"No, no. I believe that you are innocent. Plenty of people simply went missing after the battle; I don't doubt that that was simply a misunderstanding or something. I believe that you are harmless. But if you have any doubts about your partner, anything you've seen or heard, even any things that have just been niggling at the back of your mind I have to know, because the world needs to be warned." Gracefully Rose stood up and turned to stare out of the window dreamily,

"I'm sorry Ms Rook," she whispered as quietly as a mouse, "But I made my choice a long time ago for better or for worse. I am never gonna leave him. I love my husband," then her voice became harder, more annoyed and dark, Vivien frowned, "And I am not harmless," she spun around, a stony expression on her face and her eyelids lowered and threatening. Her head moved and her eyes fell on something at the other end of the room. Vivien turned, "Aren't I right Harry my love?"

Swearing under her breath the journalist's eyes fell on the suited figure of the new Prime Minister, Harold Saxon. Vivien jumped up from her seat, horror written all over her face. Rose watched with a cruel smile on her painted, ruby lips as her husband took small threatening paces towards the terrified reporter,

"Ah Mr Saxon, I was just sharing a little joke with Mrs Saxon. I'll leave straight away. I do apologise." Collecting her things the woman stepped over to the door but was stopped by the imposing bulk of the PM. He ignored her words and looked at his wife,

"Of course you're right my darling, you always are," he flattered before he turned his attention back to the present problem, "My faithful companion, my wonderful equal," he stated, "And you Ms Rook are absolutely , positively, completely, one hundred percent correct," he rambled out in a single sentence, gasping for breath when he finished. The woman stared at him intently,

"Then who are you?"

"I am the Master," he raised his hands to shoulder level and smirked, "And these are my friends." The journalist watched wide-eyed as two hovering, silver spheres materialised out of no where and edged slowly towards her, crying out in child-like voices.

"Can't you hear it?" questioned the Master, "It's everywhere, the constant drumming. Getting nearer and nearer," he tapped his fingers against his leg: da-da-da-dum, "The drums of war." As the floating globes cornered her against the wall, Vivien threw Saxon's wife a pleading glance, begging her to spare her life,

"Sorry," mouthed Rose, although her face showed no signs of regret, as the strange balls declared their intentions and a row of sharp blades sprouted from their casing. Vivien screamed.

The Master grabbed his wife's hand and together they fled the dying woman, slamming the walnut door shut behind them. Taking a deep breath and throwing his wife a look that said 'that was a close shave' he held the door handle tightly in his sweaty palms and was still. After a few seconds he opened the door a crack, the woman's screams piercing his ear drums, before he shut it again. Leaning his head back against the wall and wincing he waited and then turned the handle to open the door, but the lady was still crying out in agony. Thumping the door shut again he turned around biting his knuckles anxiously as Rose crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him angrily. Suddenly she turned on him, clutching at the lapels of his suit jacket she pushed him up against the wall and bought her face up close to his, though it meant she had to stand on her tip-toes. Even with Rose in such a foul mood the Master smiled, he loved her even more when she was like this: feisty, powerful and determined. Her eyes were clouded and a dark fire burnt within them, she looked beautiful.

"You said Archangel was 100! But she knew; she knew everythin'! How many other people will find out the truth? How many more know we're frauds?" She whispered in a menacing tone. With amazing quickness the besotted Time Lord dipped his head and snatched up her lips hungrily kissing her hard and furiously, drinking her in like she was cool, refreshing water and he a thirst-maddened maniac who had been stuck in a desert for years. Then taking a firm grip of his wife's upper arms he pushed her slightly away, breaking the seal of their lips and bending his neck so that he could met her eyes,

"Okay, okay I exaggerated slightly. Archangel is 99...Maybe 98," he concluded vaguely, "We'll know if anyone else starts probing, and as soon as someone sticks their nose in too deep they will be tracked down and terminated immediately." And with that he enveloped her in the safe circle of his arms and kissed the top of her head, Rose spoke into the fabric of her lover's suit,

"Ya promise?" she asked innocently, her voice soft and small as she relished in the warmth of the Master's body. Resting his chin upon her head and savouring her sweetness and her heat and her radiance, he spoke to her with true tenderness and affection in his voice,

"I promise my love. Tomorrow at 8 o'clock it all begins. The world ends and we will rule forever."

You like? I hope so. Once again thanks to all my loyal reviewers and to all those who have favourite this ickle fic, you guys make it all worthwhile. Don't worry there's loads more to come and it's going to get SO much more exciting!! Please spare a few seconds and drop me a few words, good or bad, I don't care! Love you all and thanks sooooooo much! xxxx