Chapter 8 – Plans to Make
Avalon was as well defended as technology and genius could make it, so the Master was moved on to the Cruciform. He'd aged ten years, then lost nine, gained another twenty, then lost them as well, all in a few weeks' actual time.
He wouldn't have minded about the constantly shifting time lines, but he kept losing all the progress he was making on the defense grids and having to start over, or suddenly discovering that he'd gained six weeks of work and having to find the next set of plans and change what he was doing. He was discovering that he preferred his time to be a little more linear.
His time sense was the only thing that kept him functional and for some reason it seemed to count up only from one place.
Six weeks, two days, seventeen hours, and forty-three minutes since he'd last touched her. If he hadn't been mad already, it would have driven him crazy.
The Academy room had carpeted floors and there was a window, these were her two favorite features, after a kitchen and a bed to sleep in. She walked to the window and looked out, staring hungrily at the stars. It was thousands of feet from the ground and the window was fastened tight, of course.
No escape. They'd told her she was free, but she'd known that they had no intention of releasing her completely. She was far too valuable an asset and far too useful a hostage. Every morning a guard showed up to 'escort' her to class and then another one showed up at the end of her classes to 'escort' her back to her rooms. They made certain she knew that she was leashed and guarded. For a girl that had once had all of space and time to run through, it was stifling.
"I miss the TARDIS," she murmured to the stars, looking up at them with sorrow. She'd lost them now, maybe forever.
The Tower had given her a few weeks respite, but then the attacks had begun again. They waited for moments when she was relaxed, calm, and vulnerable. She had countered that by never completely relaxing. It was exhausting and she was so very tired, but she kept her mind occupied with school, with studying, trying to fill her mind up with so much that there was no room for anything else.
She had fallen in love with the Academy; she adored learning all the things that had been denied her, voraciously sucking up knowledge, her scholar's heart, so long denied, was now set on gathering each crumb of information it could gobble up.
But, she was also discovering that Gallifrey wasn't her home. After all the centuries of wandering and not belonging, she'd thought that coming here would be the answer, but she'd been wrong. She felt just as much of an outsider here as she had on Earth. She was born of Gallifrey, but had been raised on many planets. She was a cosmopolitan traveler of the universe, while the people here never left and couldn't imagine that there was anything else to see out there.
She didn't know where she belonged. She was so very alone, so very lonely, and not really a part of anything anymore. She crossed to her bed, tired and frustrated, and stripped off her student's robes, letting them fall to the ground, too depressed to care. She tumbled into the bed, falling asleep as soon as she touched the pillow.
"Susan," the whispered voice roused her and she woke to find dark eyes regarding her from inches away. She should have been startled, but she wasn't. She realized that she'd been waiting for him all this time in some part of her mind. Her lips parted as want surged through her and his answering smile was bitter and hard.
"How did you manage to get in?" she asked.
"Those idiots could never design a security system that I can't subvert," he sneered and then he dropped his mouth down to hers. His kiss was rough and hard, there was no gentleness in it, just a fierce primal need, but it ignited something in her belly and she wrapped her arms around him and returned it with enthusiasm. Need was rousing in her, need and a fierce wanting that she hadn't felt in a very long time.
Part of her mind was demanding that she scream, that she push him away, something, anything, but it was a very small voice and she was in no mood to listen. She'd been alone and lonely for so long and he was all that she'd wanted for weeks now. She ran her hands through his hair and kissed him back, answering his passion with her own, surrendering without thought, wanting everything he was offering. Wanting nothing so much as to lose herself in the sensations he was evoking in her.
He was pulling away her clothes, his eyes were dark flames and his hair was silken under her fingers. She was tugging at his clothes, unbuttoning his shirt, and he pulled her top off and threw it to one side.
He skinned out of his trousers and slid his hands along her thighs, removing every barrier between them both physical and mental. She was opening herself to him and he was entering her without either of their conscious thought, just the rising need in them both, and the demand that their mutual emptiness be filled.
She was drowning in him, falling into his mind, and she didn't care what came later as long as she could have this now.
He had made it back to her and the sight of her underneath him, her hair a chocolate waterfall across the pillow, her eyes gone dark and hazy with passion, was more than enough to turn his blood to fire. The feel of her, the way she took everything he gave her and returned it to him with equal ferocity, was more than he'd ever dared hope for.
She was fire and velvet, fierce, hot, a craving he would never satisfy, and he was being pulled into her, minds entwining like their bodies. She was his match, following his lead one moment, pushing him harder the next, holding nothing back and he was getting so close to something wondrous, something immense. He had never known such absolute surrender, such welcome, as he felt in her. He was giving everything to her without stint, his own surrender just as complete as hers, and it seemed so right.
He was destroyed, supernovas going off behind his eyes, and then collapsed against her, clutching her to him, like his life depended on the contact between them.
Holding her, feeling her pulse slowing, he was relaxed, hazy, easing into an unexpected peacefulness, as though something in him had been stilled and sated. He buried his face in her shoulder and just breathed for long moments.
In the aftermath, she lay breathless, checking the work she'd done in his mind. She'd pulled more of the black cords loose, but the time they'd spent apart had knotted and tangled some of her earlier efforts.
"I am your Master and I claim you as my own," he informed her, with eyes gone hot and greedy, and she laughed.
"No one owns me. I may choose to be with you, but you will never own me, any more than those bastards in the Tower ever will," she retorted and anger kindled in his eyes. He grabbed her hair and pulled it, forcing her head back. Her pain was his pain, he was feeling it all with her and she knew it. He could no more truly harm her, than she could harm him. She knew herself to be safe and so pushed a little to get him back to where she needed to be.
"What? Are you going to beat me, now? Don't we have better things to do?" she asked him, her voice filled with promises, and he growled with a mixture of frustration and need boiling in him.
"We do, but I reserve the right to beat you later," he muttered, an idle threat and they both knew it. She was just as fierce, as aggressive, and as strong as he was, and it was more exciting than he'd ever dreamed it could be.
Afterwards, he turned his head and studied her, black eyes looking into green. His face was still, the anger dampened, if not conquered. Susan studied him, seeing a vulnerability that would have surprised her before she had seen so much of his mind.
"I thought I could have you a few times and get you out of my system. I thought I could be done with you," he told her with a sigh.
"And?" she asked, genuinely curious as to how he saw this connection between them playing out.
"I don't think I'll ever be done," he admitted and she caressed his face with her fingertips, as his eyes devoured her. "I don't think I'll ever want to stop."
"Then don't," she challenged him and he grinned at her, avaricious and fierce, but it made her hearts race with desire. She was lost again, already wanting more, drowning in the warmth and passion riding between them and all she wanted was more.
She knew that she'd never want to stop either; she would never be done with this man.
"Time for class, my Lady."
Susan's eyes flew open and she looked around, disoriented. She was alone in the bed and her escort was waiting in the doorway.
A dream. It had been a dream. The most vividly real, incredibly erotic, amazing dream she'd ever had, but a dream nonetheless. He hadn't come to her room, it hadn't been real. She was wet, desperate for him, and deeply disappointed that it was over.
She dragged herself from the bed, suddenly ashamed of herself. He was gone and probably glad to be rid of her. What was wrong with her that she was having intense fantasies about a man who'd tried to kill her grandfather on many occasions? He was insane, dangerous, and she could not want to have violent, mind-blowing sex with him!
So, why was she feeling as though she'd lost something precious? She went into the bathroom and dressed for the day, but she felt upset, confused, and utterly disgusted with herself.
The Master woke with a start and stared around his bedroom in bewilderment.
"Susan?" he called out, only to find that he was alone. A dream, he realized with bitter anger. He'd not found a way to her, hadn't claimed her, made her his, it was just imaginings. His fingers shredded the blankets as frustration and discontent raged in him. He wanted her and until he had her, he wouldn't be able to still his restless need.
He flung himself from the bed and stormed to the Console room of his TARDIS. He'd kill a few million Daleks, surely that would make him feel better.
Susan looked up as the door chimed and Randarian and Mallafressia entered with a handsome human trailing behind them.
Rand was a tall, rangy brown haired man, with a lopsided smile and warm brown eyes. He wasn't the most handsome man about, but his sweetness and brilliance were more than enough to make Susan adore him. His wife was a icy blond with sharp blue eyes. She was gorgeous, but reserved and quiet. The obvious depth of her love for Rand was all that saved her from being someone who made Susan rather uncomfortable.
"Rand!" she exclaimed in joy and bounced over to her favorite of Grandmother's students.
"Hey Susan, I want you to meet Jack here, he's travelling with Malla and I," he introduced and she smiled at the tall, dark-haired man.
"Well hello," he purred at her, face lighting up and his pheromones on overdrive. She grinned.
"51st century Earth Empire?" she guessed and he looked at her in surprise.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"It's the designer label pheromones, by the 52nd century they were already outlawed," she told him with a wink and he burst out laughing. He leaned over her hand and gave her a cheeky grin.
"Are they working?" he asked hopefully and she shook her head, still smiling.
"Sorry, superior Time Lord biology and all that," she teased.
"Really?" Malla asked with a raised eyebrow. "Jack's been working his way through half the Academy student body and even some of the teachers," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. Susan could see the amusement beneath her apparent disapproval, but Malla was a lot less expressive than her husband and Susan rarely felt as comfortable around her as she did with Rand.
"These Time Lords know how to party, I have to say," Jack confirmed and Susan giggled.
"I bet they've never seen anything like you before, Jack," she confirmed and he extended an arm to her.
"We were off to get food, you should come along and let me try to change your mind, beautiful," he suggested and she slipped her arm through his with a somewhat sad smile. It would have been nice to fall into something silly and impermanent with Jack, but she was standing right next to him and could feel nothing. He was charming, handsome, sexy, and very desirable, she could see that on an intellectual level, but her body was cold and unresponsive.
Why did mere dreams of the Master drive her to desperation, but someone like Jack left her unmoved? It wasn't fair.
"I will happily eat with you, but I have a class in an hour, so that's all it's going to be," she told him with a shrug.
"Don't take it personally, Jack," Rand assured the other man. "Susan's not interested in anything but studying."
"What are you studying?" Jack asked in sudden interest.
"To be a doctor," she told him. "There are so many people all across the universe that I could do so much good for, if I only had the knowledge and skills. I could save so many lives," she told him, her voice fervent with her desire and he smiled at her sadly.
"You go do that, Suzie-girl," he answered her with a gentleness that surprised her. She could see past sorrows and pain in his eyes and she leaned against him soothingly. "Don't let anyone tease you about it either."
She went and had lunch with the three of them. For an hour and a half, Jack's jokes, Malla's dry commentary, and Rand's enthusiasm helped to wash away all of her misery and doubt.
"Thank you, I needed that," she told them as they parted. Jack leaned down and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
"You're a gem, Suzie-girl, whoever he is, I envy him," he whispered and Susan looked at the Time Agent in shock.
"There's no one," she assured him and he gave her a lop-sided smile.
"Yeah, of course. I just hope he's worth it," Jack said as they all waved good-by and they left, headed back out to the War.
Susan really hoped so too.