Chapter 24
Melbourne, Australia
June 2009
It had been three days and the Master had just gotten word from the team he'd sent to the camp after losing contact with Stephano and his team. According to the report, UNIT - that bumbling joke of a military presence - had somehow figured out where his prey was being kept and had rescued the old buzzard. Furthermore, he wouldn't ever be able to punish the three incompetent goons since they'd gotten themselves killed. "Bloody hell!" he cursed, throwing the report across the room.
"What's wrong this time?" Peri questioned, moving the letter opener away from her husband.
"Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart has managed to slip out of our noose... and right on the cusp of such a lovely execution! I was going to have it filmed," he groused like a child who'd been promised an ice cream only to be told he hadn't finished his supper. "And this headache's not helping any either." The pain in his skull had been steady since right before Stephano had told them about the woman being captured.
"Poor Harry," she purred slightly. "Want me to find someone for you to torture?"
The Time Lord's face suddenly cheered but fell almost as quickly. "It wouldn't be the same."
She huffed slightly. "What's the big deal with you and this Brigadier anyway? He's just some old dag."
"Ah... but that's the thing, Peri. He's not just any old dag. He's the Doctor's friend and he's just smart enough to have picked up some of the goody-two-shoe's tricks. Besides, the Brigadier has kept me under lock and key many times to my great disadvantage and that is something that I cannot allow to go unpunished. And I know he's behind some of these inquiries into our satellite network. It has his..." He searched for the right word. "...fingerprints all over it."
"Even if he is inquiring about Pi, there isn't anything he can do to prevent it from going live," his wife argued.
"You don't know the Brigadier, dear. Somehow, the bugger seems to land on his feet. Like one of those furry creatures you humans like so much."
"Cats?"
"Yes! Those nasty sharp clawed creatures. Had one try to use me as a scratching post once."
"Oh, come on. They aren't that bad. I like cats," she said, picking up the letter opener to play with it.
"No accounting for taste, Peri. And yours is usually so impeccable." He watched her playing with the miniature sword. "I love to watch you handle that. It's exciting, thinking just how talented you are with such devices."
She gave him a slight glare. "Yeah? Well, you can just watch your radio. It's what you're best at." She tossed the implement towards him before abruptly stomping away.
The Master caught the object deftly in his fist, expertly stopping it from causing any harm. He got up and started to walk after her. "Peri, dear. Didn't you hear me? There's no use to watching the radio anymore. The Brigadier has flown the coop. Now I just have to figure out how to..." A grin, much like the Grinch's on that American Christmas story, captured his face. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Peri... you're brilliant!"
"I am? I'm glad you finally noticed... after a whole week," she added with a grumble.
He reached out and took her by the shoulders, turning her to look at him. "Oh, Darling. I know I've been neglectful. I await my discipline lesson eagerly, but first, let me tell you what wonderful idea you've given me."
"Harry... right now, if your idea has anything to do with Lethbridge-Stewart, I couldn't give a rat's ass."
"Not specifically the Brigadier but equally as effective in stopping him." He paused for effect. "I've decided where to run the first test. Peru! We can have it up and running and within hours, if Lethbridge-Stewart so much as shows his face, the good people of Lima will tear him apart!"
Peri looked at him for a long moment before giving a huff and marching towards the bedroom, clearly not happy.
The Time Lord watched her walk away. He let out a sigh of frustration. He loved his wife but there were times when he fully understood that quaint TV show that showed up on the late, late channels when he visited America. "To the moon, Peri!"
"What did you say?" she demanded, turning around abruptly at his words.
He blinked, not expecting her ears to have been so sharp. "I.. um... I was thinking what I could give you for your next birthday. The moon. Would you like that dear? I could have it terraformed for you."
"Don't give me that bull! You were quoting Ralph Cramden!"
His face fell. "Oh. You know that show, do you?"
"It's only about fifty years old. They do play reruns here on occasion, you know. Australia isn't just the Outback. We do have civilization here."
"Yes, dear." He decided, based on the way his day was going that perhaps it was time to put one of Reggie's suggestions into use. The man had said that when you find during an argument that you're right, apologize instead. Well, he was certainly the one who was right. "I'm sor... sor..." He tried but he couldn't get the words out.
"And you can't even apologize!" she berated. "I have had to spend the last week putting up with your obsession with that old fart and you can't even repay my support with a little attention. I haven't been out of this building in two weeks, Harry! I'm starting to lose my tan! I look like a freaking albino!"
His shoulders drooping, he looked up at her with the look of a lost child. "What can I do to fix this, Peri? You know I love you. You're the only woman I ever have and that's saying something when that's been over 900 of your Earth years. You're one in a millenium! Just let me know what you want and it's yours."
"Well, you can start by forgetting about Lethbridge-Stewart..."
"Forgotten."
"Liar."
"Well, mostly forgotten... once I have Peru set up for the first test."
"No. Now," she demanded.
He looked at her, trying to figure a way out of the maze she'd built for him. "Let me call Reggie."
"Every time we get into an argument, you have to call Reggie! You never call me for anything important!"
"I do too..." he started but shifted strategy seeing this wasn't the right alley to run down at the moment. He sighed again. "Peri, you want me to forget Sir Alistair. I can't do that until I know that the threat to our new empire has been neutralized. However, I can let Reggie handle the details. Then, knowing that Reggie has everything under control, I can forget about the bloody Brigadier!"
"He'll just mess it up," she groused.
"Not if he wants to live," the Master said, his frustration at her arguments beginning to turn to anger. There was only so long he could actually feign patience.
"But... we were going to do the test together!" Peri protested.
"Peri!" he shouted, causing her to gasp in shock. "That's enough! I'm done with this. You will obey me or suffer the consequences. Do you understand me?"
She was silent for a long moment, staring up at her husband with wide eyes. A moment later, her eyelids dropped seductively. "Oh, Harry!" She folded her body against his.
He blinked in surprise at her reaction. "What... How..." He sighed in frustration. "I really don't understand you. I try to behave as a normal male human would with his mate and you..."
"I just wanted your attention," she told him. "And I don't want a normal male human. If I wanted just some man, I would have shacked up with Dr. Lorne in Microbiology." She nipped at his neck. "We've both been cooped up in this building for over a week and... well... it was starting to feel like you cared more about killing Lethbridge-Stewart than about me. That really is a blow to a woman's ego."
He looked into her eyes. "Nothing is more important to me than you, Peri. You have to know that." He paused. "But perhaps it is time to go out and paint the town. What do you say? Dinner, dancing..."
"Sounds exquisite," she purred. She pulled him closer to kiss him passionately. "I'm going to go put on something that will make you forget that horrible old coot for the next twenty-four hours."
"Shall we plan for seven?"
"Seven in the evening? Or in seven minutes?"
"Seven in the evening, dear." He looked at his watch. "Which gives us about an hour and a half."
"Well..." Peri hummed. "I suppose it would give me time to look my best. I know how you love me to look my absolute best when we are out." She paused thoughtfully. "I wonder if we can arrange a random bit of fun..."
"What type of fun are you thinking of, dear?" he asked, seeing the gleam in her eye.
"There's this club that caters to certain clientele. And I really haven't had the opportunity to hurt someone just for the thrill of it in far too long."
"Your wish is my command," the Master answered. "Now... go get ready and I'll do the same."
She kissed him again. "Love you. I'm going to get in a bath since we have the time." Much happier now that she successfully brought her husband to her way of thinking, she sauntered away, humming a melody as she went.
The Master, let out a small sigh of relief. As much as he loved that particular ape - loved her with all his hearts - he still couldn't believe how stubborn she could be. He called for Reggie. He figured he could quickly assure that the Lethbridge-Stewart situation would be handled and then he could forget about that burr in his side and instead could concentrate on his wife. The evening promised to bring great pleasure to both of them.
DWQLTWDWQLTW
Lima, Peru
June 2009
As the Doctor, Glad, the Brigadier, and Sam came into the Lethbridge-Stewart household, the latter with the assistance of the Doctor, Doris came into the foyer, a concerned look on her face. Going over to Sam, she gently touched him, causing him to wince slightly. "Oh, you poor dear! What happened to you?"
"I don't remember," Sam stated. "I don't think I want to." He'd noticed his feelings pushing away whenever that possibility seemed to be trying to push forward.
"It's okay, Doris," the Doctor put in, thankful that the block was still firmly in place. It didn't seem as if it was in any danger of collapsing either, for which he was extremely grateful. "He looks far worse than he really is. Just needs a few days rest and your famous steak and potato soup, light on the steak. His digestive system needs to regain itself."
Doris smiled. "Yes, Doctor. I have done a little nursing in my time, you know."
"I smell biscuits," Glad commented, her eyes gleaming with instant anticipation. "Did you bake biscuits, Mrs. Doris?"
"Biscuits?" The Doctor grinned like a schoolboy. "Aw! I love your biscuits! Right then! Off to the kitchen we go..."
"Doctor..." Alistair's baritone voice threatened.
"I'm not going to break any more cups. Well... maybe one to make it an even set," the Doctor teased, giving Doris a wink.
"Broken cup?" The Brigadier questioned with a frown. "Is there no place on this Earth, Doctor, where you don't manage to damage something?"
The Gallifreyan just gave a bemused shrug as if to apologize while, at the same time, deny culpability.
Doris chuckled gently. "It's okay, Doctor. I could do with fewer dishes to clean anyway. And I think we should all go into the kitchen. Tea and biscuits are exactly what this poor girl needs to start her recovery." She took Sam gently into her care. "Now, my dear. We are going to take good care of you."
"And I see you've already made tea," the Time Lord noted. Walking to the teapot with the intent to carry it over to the table, he was instantly shooed away by Doris, who insisted that he allow himself to be waited on.
"Best obey, Doctor," the Brigadier instructed. "You know how she can be when she has her mind set." He carefully sat at the kitchen table, leaning back in his chair.
The kitchen was a bit crowded but there were enough chairs to accommodate all as Doris set the biscuits on the table.
Turning to the group, Sam smiled, grateful for Doris' attention. "I love good cookies. What kind did you make?"
Doris smiled. "Proper Scottish shortbread, of course."
"Ah, shortbread!" the Doctor exclaimed, sitting at the table and putting his feet up on it. "Love her shortbread. You know, Alistair is a genuine Scot! Has a kilt and everything!"
"I once leapt into a Scot," Sam said not knowing how much of his leaping was known. "It was a bit disconcerting to have nothing under it."
Doris nearly dropped the tray in her hands. "Well, I never! Such language for a young lady!" She gave the Doctor a harsh glare. "What have you been teaching her?"
"Oi! Not me! Ask his mother!" the Doctor protested, giving Sam a slight grin.
Sam's face turned bright red. "I... I... well... sorry." He just looked down as if he wished he could be swallowed up by the ground."
"Oh, Sam didn't mean anything by it," Glad said, reaching for her third cookie.
Doris sighed slightly. "Forgive me. I tend to forget that you aren't the young lady you resemble. I still don't completely understand this concept of you looking like one person and being someone else entirely." She gazed on the Doctor with a frown as she placed the tray on the table before immediately slapping the Doctor's legs. "You get your feet off my table, Doctor. This is my kitchen, not a barnyard."
The Gallifreyan obeyed the order demurely, righting himself in the chair at the same time. He took a breath, reaching over to pour tea for his friends. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Glad reaching for yet another cookie and slapped her hand gently.
Glad blinked and then frowned. "It's a celebration, isn't it?"
"I keep telling you, you keep eating sweets you're going to put on too much weight." Seeing the pleading eyes, he sighed. "All right, just one more." He raised a finger. "One," he emphasized.
"Is the lass on some sort of diet?" Doris questioned.
"No, her body just isn't adapted for sweets. I don't want her to get bad eating habits." He put two sugars in his tea and then leaned back again, feet once again on the table. He turned his attention again to the Brigadier. "So, Brigadier, how does a retired UNIT officer get himself into the predicament from which Sam and I liberated you?"
"I think it has something to do with Harold Saxon."
"And who is Harold Saxon?" the Time Lord questioned, sipping on his tea.
"He's the bloke that heads up the Prometheus Institute. The one that's building the Pi Network." At the look of confusion on the Doctor's and Sam's face - Glad was too busy eating cookies to mind what was being said - he explained. "The Pi Network. Satellite system that will create instant communications anywhere on Earth."
"Sounds marvelous," Doris commented.
"Well, it would be if it were truly for benign purposes. But Saxon... he's a smart one. He has other plans for the Pi Network, I fear."
The Doctor frowned, sitting up abruptly in interest. "What plans?"
"I have some questions concerning the Prometheus Institute. It's supposedly a think-tank down in Australia that may have connections within the United States and Britain. UNIT South America has been making their own inquiries but nothing has come of them. I was asked by Benton if I could look into it. Unofficially, of course."
"Of course," the Gallifreyan agreed. "And?"
"And it all seems on the up and up. Typical think-tank. Trying to solve the world's problems - better ways of growing crops, more efficient fuels, that sort of thing. At least on the surface. There's still a sort of mystery surrounding the whole organization. No one knows for sure exactly what the Prometheus Institute does and no one has ever actually seen the owner, a man called Mr. Wrightsworth although there is also some mention about another principal who seems to have a codename. Lothos is what I've been told he's called."
Sam's head came up sharply. "Who?"
The Doctor recognized the name from when Sam told him about the evil hybridized human-computer. He didn't say anything, though, as Alistair continued.
"Lothos," he repeated. "Very little is known about either Mr. Wrightsworth or Lothos except they seem to have an enormous amount of cash to fund the institution. The only thing that stands out is the very public announcement when the Prometheus Institute instituted their CEO, Harold Saxon, a few years back. All accounts indicate he is very charismatic."
Sam shook his head. "Never heard of Saxon. Wrightsworth... I once knew someone by that name at school, but that was years ago and I don't know what happened to him. The name Lothos, though..."
Alistair's eyebrows went up. "So, who is this Lothos?"
"Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think he stole some of my ideas. What I do know is he's the only other being from our era that's been able to send humans through time."
"And from what Sam told me about him, he isn't exactly the kind of person you would invite over for dinner," the Doctor continued darkly. "Still doesn't explain those rebels kidnapping you. Unless..." He paused thoughtfully. "A person with that kind of money also has influence. And if he's running a super secret think-tank, undoubtedly there are certain things he doesn't want known." He gave Sam a glance. "Like having the ability to send people back through time. If someone were to get too close..."
Sam, understanding the Doctor's thread, agreed.
The Time Lord folded his arms and exhaled. "Your rebels, Alistair, were hired because you found out too much. Probably why you were killed in the first place," he muttered under his breath so that no one would hear. Standing up abruptly, he physically turned towards his friend. "Show me everything you found on Prometheus."
"It goes back years, Doctor. Are you sure you want to go through all of it?"
"Every scrap, right down to the size of shoe this Harold Saxon wears, if you have that. When did this new CEO take office?"
"About six years ago. Since then, Prometheus has been fairly visible in the public eye but still no one knows enough about it to be able to tell what they do other than their charitable work."
"I want everything you have on him too," the Gallifreyan demanded. "I want to know what it is they are so afraid of you discovering." He started towards the door. "Allons-y, Alistair. Sam. We have work to do. Glad, I said only one more."
Glad grabbed at the cookies anyway. She'd actually had three more already but didn't want to tell the Doctor that. "I want to save a couple for later. They're so good."
Doris beamed. "My mother's recipe. Take two or three..." She looked at the Doctor's disapproving face. "...for later," she added in defiance.
The Doctor sighed in frustration. "I give up," he groaned with a shake of his head. "It's like being in a grandmother's house. Spoiling the kids rotten," he complained as he left the kitchen, his hands jammed into his trousers.
Sam rose, thanking Lady Lethbridge-Stewart for the tea and cookies. He hoped that Al would show up soon. The news about finding Lothos again would likely intrigue his friend as much as it did him. This was the best lead they'd had for quite some time.
Once Glad had caught up with the Time Lord, the Doctor took her free hand, the other one having several cookies in them, and guided her back to the TARDIS. He led her to the theater, Sam right behind them, before turning to her. "Okay, three rules while Sam and I go do some research," he instructed. "One: stay away from anything that has an R rating. You remember your alphabet, correct? And where to find the rating on the discs?" Getting a nod from Glad, he continued. "Two..." He pointed to the cookies in her hand. "That's the last of the sweets for the day." Seeing the look on her face, he took her shoulders. "Glad, I just want you to be healthy, that's all. I'm not saying you can't have a treat. Just... not all the time." He then pointed to the far back wall. "Plenty of healthy snacks up there that I promise you will like. And three: when I call you out, you come along as it will probably be dinnertime. Agreed?"
Glad let out a heavy sigh as if her entire world had been turned upside down. "Yeah, I guess. I don't really have much choice, do I?"
Sam laughed. "You sound like my sister used to when Mom laid down the law."
"Would you rather I take you back home to your cousin?" the Doctor questioned with raised eyebrows, crossing his arms.
Glad's eyes got big. "You wouldn't..."
"Well, with you acting as if this is all such a burden, you obviously would rather be home than traveling through time and space with an old codger like me."
She shook her head enough for her hair to fly around her face. "No. This is exactly where I want to be."
Sam smiled. "You never miss your home?"
Glad looked at Sam with dismay. "If you knew and had to live with my cousin, you wouldn't want to go home either."
The leaper shrugged. "Well, since you lived that life and not me, you might be right, but home was always a good place for me. I'd just like to make it home again."
The Time Lord looked at him. "And you will. I gave you a promise and I will keep it." Turning back to Glad, he leaned forward so that he was at eye level with her. "If you want to stay with me, you will do what you are told in my spaceship. I give you plenty of autonomy to read what you want, watch what you want, wear what you want… within reason. I taught you how to swim, how to make a killer chicken pasta salad, how to read and write... I'm going to teach you Gallifreyan! There isn't a single human in whole of creation that knows how to speak Gallifreyan!" He took her hands. "All I'm asking in return is that you listen to what I tell you and do as you are instructed. If you don't want to watch movies, that's fine. Go swimming, play cards… anything at all. Just... stay in the TARDIS and out of trouble until dinner."
Glad moved over to him quickly and gave him a tight hug. "I love you, Doctor."
The Doctor gave her a loving smile, returning the hug. "And... I love you too. In a completely platonic manner, of course," he added quickly.
She looked up at him. "What does platonic mean?"
"It means we're... friends," he told her, pulling on his ear.
She smiled at him. "Yeah." Having agreed to what was obvious to her, she turned to go. "Well, I think I'll pull down a movie."
"Anyway... Sam and I have to go. Alistair's waiting for us." He pointed to the door behind him. "Have fun. Don't eat too much; you'll spoil your dinner. Call you in a couple of hours." He went out the door, confident that Glad would avoid films he didn't want her to watch, Sam following him as they left the TARDIS. The entire way, though, he got the distinct feeling that the leaper was staring at him. "What is it, Sam?"
"You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" The Gallifreyan stopped, a terrified look on his face. "Don't tell me Glad is about to... undergo what all humanoid females undergo on a regular basis as related to their reproductive organs."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Now I know I'm right."
The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "Right about what?"
"You're acting like her dad."
He huffed. "That is probably the most preposterous statement of the decade." He resumed his walk towards Alistair's library.
"Is it?"
"She's sixteen years old. She's old enough to take care of herself where she comes from. Practically an adult."
"That may be. Doesn't change how you're acting."
"I'm just making sure that she understands the rules of the TARDIS. Plus it's my fault that she got a sugar habit. It's my responsibility to get her off of it."
"It's not just that. It's how you've been since I first saw the two of you together. Face it, Doctor. It isn't platonic how you feel..." Before he could finish, the Doctor almost exploded at him.
"What?!" he exclaimed, turning towards him. "How..." He gave him a frown. "She's sixteen, for Rassilon's sake! Sixteen! I'm not in the least bit interested in a relationship with a sixteen-year-old human girl! The idea that you would even think that I would be so..."
Sam let out a sigh. "Would you let me finish? I was going to say how you feel is not platonic; it's paternal."
The Doctor's indignation vanished in an instant, replaced with sadness. "My children died a long time ago, Sam. I'm not getting into that role ever again." He headed for their destination, opening the door and then putting on a smile. "So... what can we learn about this Prometheus Institute?" he questioned Alistair as he marched to the desk to look over his shoulder.
Together, the three men poured over Sir Alistair's files, ignoring the passing of time as they tried to discover the secrets that nearly cost their lives.
