Chapter Five
"I hate this plan," Angel said as they approached the console room. "Have I mentioned that already?"
"Only about 20 times," Amy said beside him with exasperation.
"22," Rory corrected.
"I think it will go swimmingly," the Doctor said, his arm draped around Angel's shoulder. His arm had been there for an uncomfortably long time. Specifically, ever since the Doctor figured out that the TARDIS was much less likely to try to cut off Angel's head if the Doctor's neck was next to Angel's. "So I distract him, and Angel and...er, Rory, make a run for the great outdoors, as it were."
"Where my son is," Angel said, like that should have ended any thought of the plan.
"You called your friend, they'll be long gone before the Master even thinks of trying to escape," Amy said, trying to hide the note of irritation in her voice.
"You don't know the Master like I do," Angel said. "He's-"
"Shh!" the Doctor held out his free hand, quieting the whole group with the one motion. "We're getting close."
They all silenced, Angel more sullenly than the others. The doorway to the console room loomed in front of them, wide and gaping like a mouth. They slowed, cautiously approaching until they could figure out exactly where the Master was in the room.
The room was quiet except for the deep hum of the console. The Doctor looked over at Angel, questioning.
Angel shook his head. He couldn't hear anything.
"Is he-" Amy started, but the Doctor placed his hand over her mouth. She scowled and jerked her head away.
The Doctor gave Angel's neck a quick squeeze and let go, stepping cautiously on the first step and craning his neck to look above him. When nothing happened, he took another step and then paused, touching his bow tie and smiling confidently. "All right, then."
The Doctor bolted for the console, holding the railings and practically throwing himself up the final set of steps to the glass platform. Not quite skidding to a stop, he crashed into the console and flipped a switch. "Angel? Rory? Run!"
They ran, Angel in the lead, pelting for the front door as fast as they could go. Angel kept a sharp peripheral eye for movement, but saw nothing. He reached the door, Rory a few steps behind. They were nearly there. Already pushing against the wood, he turned the latch and, as the Doctor had promised, it opened at his touch. Now they only needed to get out and close the door again.
Angel shoved Rory out through the door and turned to exit himself when he heard a sharp hiss behind him. Desperate, he tried to shove the door closed again, but the Master hit him with the force of a car. They both tumbled out of the TARDIS, clawing and scrambling for purchase on the other.
The TARDIS door slammed shut. Angel and the Master rolled over again, finding the Master on top, his sharp nails piercing the skin of Angel's neck as he held him down with one hand, preparing a punch with the other.
Rory stood staring with wide eyes, fixed to the spot.
"Go!" Angel rasped through the pain. He raised his arm to block the punch, but only really succeeded in cushioning the blow. "I'll take care of him!"
Rory dashed out of the room.
The Master chuckled. "Awww, I suppose that is all of the loyalty that you can expect from your food."
Angel tried to wrest the Master's hand away from his neck, but even at the weakest point of the arm, he was too strong for Angel.
"Master," Angel gasped out. "We can help you. Take you back."
The Master laughed his high-pitched mirthless laugh. "Back? Yes, I will go back to be greeted by the Order of Aurelius with the Anointed. As it is written, so shall it be."
Gathering all the strength he had, Angel wrenched his whole torso to the side, finally managing to dislodge the Master and gain the upper hand. As they turned, the Master's nails tore painfully out of Angel's skin. Blood trickled down his neck in a steady dripping stream from several puncture wounds.
"Your future,"Angel growled, "is not here. Not my home. Not my family."
"Yessss," the Master crooned pleasantly, as if he were sitting down to tea instead being pinned by Angel to the floor. "Your family. That's a twist, isn't it? You must tell me how you managed it. But perhaps you were guided by destiny. I am so pleased the Anointed One will be from such a strong blood line."
Angel adjusted his hands, sliding one under the Master's chin and the other behind his head in the perfect position to rip the head off if he needed to. He shouldn't do it, he knew. It would mess with the timeline. Buffy needed to kill the Master herself. Things might explode. But for Connor, god was it tempting.
"Leave. Him. Alone." Angel growled threateningly.
"Or what, Angelus? You held so much potential once, but now… I'd be more afraid of the infant."
The Master threw Angel over his head with a grunt of effort, and Angel crashed into the already crumbling wall. He miraculously missed any of the broken studs, and by the time his back had stopped spasming enough for him to look around, the Master was long gone.
The corridors were dark and smelled of must, Angelus, and old fear, like decades of smoke soaked into wood. They smelled more freshly of young human. And they smelled most enticingly of newborn.
The Master followed this scent like a lighted path down a flight of stairs and along another corridor before stopping just outside a polished wooden door that was slightly ajar. The young male trembled inside, his breathing like trumpet heralding dinner. The infant was in there, too, gurgling lightly.
If this was what Christmas was like, the Master suddenly understood why humans celebrated it.
The Master placed a hand on the knob and swung the door inward on silent hinges. The Master slipped inside.
The young male was straightening up from the infant's bassinet, the babe in his arms. He tried to shush the child, who was making noises of confusion from being awoken.
"Aww," the Master said, adding a concern tsk on the end. "You're disturbing his rest…"
The prey whipped around, green eyes wide and staring with horror, and clutched the child closer to its chest.
"Poor thing," the Master continued, now stepping toward them. "Whatever did he do to be disturbed from such a peaceful slumber?"
The Master's prey fumbled to get to the far side of the crib. "Stay back," it said, its voice small and flat with terror.
"Would that I could," the Master replied in his best apologetic tone. "If you give me this sweet child without a fuss, I'll snap your neck before I drink you. Promise."
"You won't," the young male said, his expression still fixed in wide-eyed fear. He turned, like if he didn't look at the Master, the Master wouldn't bother him.
"Won't I?" the Master gasped, stalking still forward. "Well, I guess I'll do it the painful way, then." He stopped in front of the crib, considering it. Then, with an almost casual swipe, threw it aside, relishing in the crash that split his ears and made the human turn in delicious fright. God he loved being a vampire.
The Master raised his hand again, closing the gap between him and the male holding the child. Two clawed fingers curled, poised to jab into the wide, staring eyes. "Goodbye," he said, and stabbed his fingers forward.
His hand shot through empty air. Somehow the human had dodged out of the way, his head moving just enough for the Master's claws to miss him. The prey backed slowly towards the door.
"Oh, so it's faster than it looks?" the Master said, intrigued, pacing after the human.
"I'm not faster than an average human," he said.
The Master snarled and leapt suddenly for the child in his arms. "Then die like one!"
The human fled out the door and down the hall just in time, and the Master slammed into the hallway wall. He dug his sharp nails into it, propelling himself as he scrambled after the retreating human back.
The Master followed the prey around the corner and back up the stairs-typically running along familiar paths, as frightened animals do, and caught up with it in the next corridor. He stretched out a hand to snatch the human, but the prey veered suddenly into a room to the left and the Master lost precious seconds adjusting pursuit. The room turned out to be the same one they had come through. Of course.
The prey dashed for the blue wooden box, slamming into the closed door and grasping for the handle. The Master pulled back his arm, claws ready to disembowel. The human and the child against his shoulder both whimpered in fear. And then-finally-the Master drove his claws deep into the human's back at the base of the spine with such ferocity that his claws stuck in the wood of the box on the other side.
The human went rigidly still and the Master started to smile.
Except...
The Master's arm was cold and dry where warm, sticky blood should have been bathing his skin. He hadn't felt the crack of bones or the squish of organs, just his claws hitting the wood. He pulled his claws free and his arm slid from the human's back, clean like it hadn't been there at all.
The human turned around, the same wide-eyed expression of fear on his face that the Master had been enjoying throughout the whole chase, and the baby kicking gently in his arms. The Master slashed angrily at the human, but his hand passed through skin and clothes as if through air.
"Please don't eat me," said the young male.
The Master snarled, slashing at the human-male-shaped air again. "You don't exist!"
The expression didn't change. The wide, staring eyes: suddenly, the Master wondered if they were wide with fear. Maybe they were fixed in that one expression. The closer he examined the human, the more the look took on an aspect of bored indifference. "I do exist," he said informatively. "You are hitting me."
The Master punched through his head, his knuckles hitting the wooden doors instead of skull. "If you are an illusion, then where is the baby?" the Master demanded.
"I am holding him."
"Do not lie, shade!" the Master yelled furiously.
"I am not a shade," the illusion replied. "I am the voice interface. Navigational, gravitational, and security systems are now online." It flickered and disappeared and the door clicked open, lights pouring out.
The Master hissed, shielding his eyes until he caught the scent of Angelus and the baby. He squinted into the room, spotting Angelus at the bottom of the staircase, the child held protectively against his shoulder.
"Say 'hi' to your great-grandpa, Connor," Angelus said, "'cause this is the only time you'll ever be seeing him."
The Master jumped at Angelus in rage and found himself floating. The door closed behind him. "What?" he growled. Why was he flying? How had Angelus tricked him with a shade? Nothing made sense.
"Sorry about that!" the sorcerer shouted. "I had to turn the gravity off on that side of the room."
Angelus frowned. "Or- If Darla was- He might be your grandfather, Connor, now that I think about it."
The Master twisted and slashed at the air, slowly turning upside down. "You will suffer for this! I will rip out your entrails!"
"Awww," a green-skinned demon wearing a blue silk robe over bright red silk clothing said, stepping next to Angelus and leaning an arm on his shoulder, "this reminds me of my family reunions."
On the glass platform, the human male looked over at the human female. "Actually, remember your uncle at our wedding?"
"Picnic's over!" the sorcerer announced, throwing a lever. "Time to go home."
Angel clutched the brass railing with one hand as the ship rattled through time. Connor was beginning to cry softly in protest and Angel shushed him gently in his ear.
"Inertial dampers are offline, huh?" Lorne said queasily next to him to the room at large.
The voice interface appeared, still looking like Rory holding Connor, and said, "Inertial dampers are disengaged."
"Oy," the Doctor shouted from above. "I was on a tight schedule. Someone's security systems started trying to take out my friends!"
"Inertial dampers were undamaged in the-"
"Voice interface! Tell me how long 'til we get there," the Doctor interrupted. "Up here."
The voice interface flickered and disappeared. It snapped back into view next to the Doctor, who pointed a finger in its face. "Don't take a liking to lying now. This was a special occasion."
"I don't think it could pull it off without me doing the driving," Amy said, leaning a hip against the control panel and nodding at the screen where the hotel schematics were still displayed.
"Estimated arrival imminent."
"I still don't understand why I wasn't the one telling the hologram where to go," Rory said. "It was supposed to be me."
"I WILL SMASH YOU!" the Master called from somewhere up near the ceiling.
"Obviously," Amy said, "because I'm better in a crisis."
The Doctor flapped his hands at Amy, shooing her away from the console. "Controls aren't for leaning!" he scolded. Once she had shifted her weight to the other leg, he threw a lever and the machine to shuddered under their feet. A moment later, everything rumbled to a standstill.
"The Anointed One will come to me!" the Master shouted into the silence. "It has been foretold! You cannot escape this!"
"And you've misread the prophecy," Angel shouted back. "Check again." He stepped up beside the Doctor, still trying to quell the potential wailing fit brewing in his son.
"Okay, so we just...shove him out the door now?"
"Yuuuup!" The Doctor pressed a button and the Master began to to sink gently from the ceiling. The Doctor pressed another button, and the TARDIS doors swung open. Outside, Angel could see the stone walls of a church illuminated by the glow of candles. Several vampires growled, and one took a run at the TARDIS door, only to smack into the threshold.
"Master!" he snarled. "Is this a part of the ritual?" The vampire rubbed at his nose, blinking in increasing confusion at the box.
"Don't worry!" the Doctor shouted at the TARDIS door and the vampires outside. He twirled a ball set into the console and the Master flew through the doorway, crashing into the vampire that had only just stopped rubbing his nose.
"It's just a little mix-up!"