Title: Shattered Pt. 4
Written for: masterficathon
Author's Note: First of all, I have raised the rating for this fic up to M...because, well, it is. On LJ when I posted this part it went out with an R rating, so I felt the need to adjust accordingly. And, for this chapter the Master explores his softer side and why his feelings for Rose Tyler seem to be changing...He just refused to be completely evil during the writing process, so please forgive me if you think he's too much of a softy. I did get some evilness in there...I think. This was a hard one to write and I had to take a bit more time with it. So anyway...please read and let me know what you think. I believe there will only be one more installment of this series, so Pt. 5 will probably be the conclusion. Thanks to everyone for reading and sticking with me through this series. I really appreciate it. Remember that all comments are welcome and accepted.

Part 4:

Rose awoke with a start, a nightmare fading from her consciousness. Her head hurt terribly and she was a bit disoriented. She glanced at the man asleep next to her. The Master, she remembered, and a wave of relief swept over her. She knew where she was, she was on his ship, his TARDIS, and they were traveling through time and space. Yes, things were coming back to her now. She remembered meeting him in the café and walking in the moonlight, and stepping into the phone box. But then…things went a bit fuzzy. She knew she was with him for a reason. She was attracted to him and had spent last night in his bed. But she couldn't help thinking that there was something else, some other reason for her presence here.

She closed her eyes against a rush of nausea. Why did she feel like this? She couldn't remember. She'd made him angry, she knew that…but she couldn't remember why. But he hadn't hurt her; had he? No, she'd fallen asleep.

Carefully, she untangled herself from the circle of his arms and rose from the bed. Once in the bathroom she leaned over the sink and splashed cool water on her face. When she looked up, her reflection in the mirror stared back at her. She looked…hollow. Something was missing.

The Master woke from a restless sleep, realizing that his arms were empty he called out to the darkness, "Rose."

There was no response, but a light shone from the adjoining bathroom and he padded softly to the door. She was standing there, back turned, oblivious to his presence. He stared at her for a moment, wondering at his earlier reaction to her. Was he losing sight of his objective? Had the drums finally driven him mad? Or was he developing some kind of misplaced…feeling…for the Doctor's former companion? It was the latter that he found the most horrifying. Yes, there was something about Rose Tyler and he sensed that the Doctor had known it too. She wasn't just young, beautiful and smart; there was strength in her, a will to live, to fight. Oh yes, Rose Tyler was special.

Lucy was weak, had always been weak. That was why he had chosen her. Her mind was easy to control…so easy. But not Rose. Even now he could feel it as he watched her; he could sense that he hadn't yet won. And that's what it was really all about wasn't it…the game…winning…beating the Doctor. Oh, but she was so intriguing, this Rose of his. And he couldn't quite squash the need to cherish her.

At last Rose seemed to sense his presence behind her.

"What's wrong?" he asked warily, an uneasy look on his face.

"Just a headache, I'm fine. Really, don't worry."

Headache…

He closed the space between them, "Where does it hurt?"

She pointed to her forehead, "Here."

His lips brushed her forehead.

"And here," she pointed to her right temple.

His lips traced a path down to the spot she had indicated, just above her ear, and lingered.

"And here," she laid a hand on her stomach.

He dropped to his knees before her and opened his mouth on the soft, bare skin.

"Master," she said his name on a sigh, while she clutched at his shoulders. She could feel the nausea and the pain fading away and in its place was a strange emptiness.

"Come back to bed," he said quietly looking up at her.

She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. Then looked down into his eyes, "What did you do to me?" she asked softly.

He pulled away and came to his feet abruptly, "What?"

She shook her head again, "Nothing," she said blankly.

"What did you say?" he hissed quietly.

Rose reached out a hand and placed it on his chest, a confused look upon her face, "Nothing," she repeated.

He stared at her with an intensity that would've cowered most humans, but Rose simply leaned towards him and touched her lips to his. "Take me to bed," she said softly.

And he did.

The only indication that it was morning was the flickering on of the overhead lights in the dungeon. No music, no message, no taunts and jeers from the Master. This worried the Doctor. He had a sense that something was wrong upstairs. Something had happened to interrupt the Master's game…and where Rose was concerned, that was not good.

"How's your leg?" Jack asked with a look of concern upon his face.

"Oh, its fine, fine," the Doctor assured him, "be right as rain in a few days."

"Yeah," Jack agreed as he checked under the bandage to see for himself, "If he doesn't shoot you again," he added morosely.

"Yes, there is always that."

"Doctor?" Jack prompted.

"Hmmm?" he responded absently, his thoughts still with Rose and the Master.

"The TARDIS, how do we communicate with her?" Jack asked.

"Well, they usually communicate telepathically. But they have an auditory circuit and they are quite capable of understanding and translating every language in the solar system, so I don't think we should have a problem."

"So we just…," Jack began.

"We just talk to her. And we try and convince her to help us."

Jack nodded and prepared himself to have a very long and very serious discussion with a machine.

"And Jack," the Doctor added as an afterthought, "No flirting."

She was making him dinner. The Master shook his head as he entered the dining room and found the table laden with dishes, cutlery and candles. This was new and different. Lucy had never cooked for him. Though from the smells issuing forth from the TARDIS kitchen he wasn't sure if he was happy about this or not.

Rose appeared carrying a tray of something that looked a little bit like chicken. He sneered at the plate she placed before him as she flopped happily into the seat opposite and set to work on her meal. "I know you don't do domestic, but I just thought this would be romantic."

Romantic…He didn't do romantic either. But wait…, "I never said I didn't do domestic."

She gave him an odd look, "You didn't? Well, I've heard it somewhere."

He'd bet she had…from another Time Lord no doubt.

This was maddening…almost as maddening as the drums. Why couldn't he rid her mind of the Doctor? He would have to try again. But not now…not until he was sure she was recovered from the last time. He didn't want to hurt her like that again…though he couldn't say exactly why. He picked up his fork and poked idly at the chicken.

"Aren't you hungry?" Rose prompted innocently.

He looked up at her and met her eyes. "Oh yes," he said roughly. He raised his hand towards her and beckoned, "Come here."

As she settled herself in his lap he began to devour her, moving aside bits of clothing as his tongue tasted flesh and his teeth scraped tender skin. His fingers bruised and his nails scraped red trails down her back while he left little bite marks along her collarbone. The Master was taking great care to mark her as his own…

It had been three days since the two prisoners had seen their captor. The music had begun again, and strange as it seemed, this made the Doctor feel a bit better. Of course, every song had the word "Rose" strategically placed in the lyrics, but they seemed to not be direct messages from the Master.

He and Jack each took turns talking to the TARDIS, both in their thoughts and out loud. But they were making very little progress. Jack, who had scoffed at the Doctor's mention of flirting days ago, had begun to try various chat-up lines in the hopes of eliciting a response. None had yet to work. It seemed that the TARDIS was just as stubborn and hard to predict as her Master.

Their only breakthrough so far had come after the Doctor had been describing the glories of bananas to Jack in a moment of idle conversation. Later that day their lunch tray had appeared on the cold metal floor bearing two perfectly beautiful bananas. The Doctor had been ecstatic, not just because he loved bananas and had been craving them for months, but also because this was their first real indication that the TARDIS was listening to them.

Now, as Jack sat tearing a new strip from his shirt to tie around the Doctor's fast-healing wound, he thought back over the last few days.

"Doctor," he began, "I think I may have figured out something."

"Hmm…" the Doctor responded distractedly.

"I think it's you."

"What?" the Doctor looked at him in confusion. "What's me?"

"I think that the TARDIS likes you," Jack said with a grin. "I mean, maybe she's drawn to you because you're a Time Lord and you're both from Gallifrey. Maybe because there're only two of you left, and only two TARDIS's in existence, maybe she's trying to protect you," Jack reasoned.

The Doctor sat in thoughtful silence for a moment then flashed him a wide grin, "Jack, you're brilliant." Then he rose from his place on the floor and sprang into action. He had a plan.