Lost in space
Mar. 10th, 2008 06:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ans99Characters: Sam Tyler, James Doakes, and The Master (PING if you live in Diagon Alley, and were NOT at the meeting - Sam and Doakes want to talk to you!)
Rating: PG13, probably
Date: After this.
Location: Diagon Alley
Sam waved back at Doakes as he made his way to the shop across the street. There was a fox on the sign, and he could see stairs in through the window, so he opened the door to the fox shop and walked inside. He didn't want to seem impatient, so he glanced around before walking to the stairs.
He ascended them easily, and found the door at the top of the stairs. He waited a moment, before knocking steadily on the door. Again, he clasped his hands behind his back and waited at attention. Waited at the Master's door.
The Master jumped a little at the sound. He'd just gotten back from his little tete-a-tete with Gwen and for a thin, tense second he was convinced that retribution was already here, at his door.
He shook his head slightly, erasing that notion. Too soon. And almost nobody knew where, specifically, he was-- he had been very careful to limit information. Still, he made a mental note to install a peephole.
His caution now tempered with irritation at being disturbed, the Master made his way to the door, noting the rick-a-rack had mysteriously leapt back to the walls of its own accord. He hadn't bothered relocking the door yet (although he had removed that horrible rain slicker) but he slid the chain back on before opening the door a crack and peering out.
His own face gaped back at him. Brilliant.
"Sorry, I gave to the Pathetic Dimwits' Fund already," he managed, and started closing the door.
There was a very brief moment where Sam was entirely confused. He reacted before the confusion had lifted - pushing his hand against the door quickly, not letting it shut.
"Wait!...Wait, wait, wait." Sam narrowed his eyes a little bit. "What the hell are you doing here?" Sam acted as if the Master had invaded an already occupied dwelling. He just assumed that was something the Master would do.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" the Master snapped. "I realize you are painfully slow, but I was giving you some benefit of the doubt. Seems I was foolish to do so." The last few words came out in a heave of exertion as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to shove the door shut.
Sam held the door with his hand, trying to force it open wider. He stepped closer to the opening of the door. "You know...it's quite fortuitous that I would come upon you like this. Remember what we were discussing earlier?" Sam didn't wait for him to answer, just continued talking.
"Yeah well, I think we need to discuss it again." There was a slight pause, but Sam wouldn't shut up. "Oh, and I have a few questions to ask you!"
The Master gritted his teeth. Questions? This did not bode well. He thought again about the loose ends he'd left with Gwen. "Not a good time!" he called out. "Come back never."
He was dead certain, though, that Sam Tyler would never shut up, and he'd never go away. In his mental note he crossed out the peephole, and added the urgent need to find somewhere else to situate himself.
"That's funny!" Sam called out, louder than necessary. "It's a perfect time for me!
"Like I said, I have a few things to discuss, and a few questions to ask. So why don't you undo the chain and we can have a nice chat?" He held the door firm with one hand and reached into his jacket pocket with the other, retrieving his notebook, meaning to jot down any notes if the Master provided him with any information. He noticed there was a message on the network, though. He held the door with his back, still shoving against it to keep it open on the chain, while he replied.
Why don't we sit down and have a nice little chat where I can tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me, I don't think!
The Master felt a little dizzy for a second, and leaned back against the door, more for support now than to keep anyone out. He weighed his options. He could keep pushing on the door and wait for him to leave. Which could conceivably take ages. He could shut the door with the pretense of slipping the chain, and either wait for him to leave or slip out through the window. Being on the second story ruled the latter out.
Or he could let him in now, get what information he could, and then decide his next move. Even though this was the most unpalatable option, it would probably serve his purposes more than having this obnoxious jackass bring any more attention to his flat than he needed at the moment. And he had to admit that he was a little curious as to why he had a dumbed down version of himself cavorting self-importantly around Wonderland.
The Master swallowed, realizing he'd been effectively backed into a corner. "I'm... going to take off the chain, if you'll just let me close the door," he said, reappearing at the crack in the door. Then his eyes narrowed. "You're going to take notes?"
Sam stood up and relaxed away from the door. "As long as you promise to open the door..." his tone was extremely patronizing, on purpose. He glanced toward his notepad, and gestured to it with his free hand. "Yeah, if you say anything important, I need to keep a record of it, don't I?" Sam raised his eyebrows toward the break in the door.
"Look, whether you're aware or not...some very serious things have been happening in this place. I'd like to talk to you. I'm not accusing you of anything, and you're not a suspect. But you may be a very important help to this case, and I want to talk to you face to face. The other business I have with you is personal."
Slipping back into his authority role was effortless. Now if only his badge actually meant something here...
The Master's expression was inscrutable, but sure enough, after he closed the door the sound of a chain sliding back could clearly be heard. The door reopened and the Master stood aside, wordlessly motioning him inside with the grandiose, sweeping gesture one might expect of a maitre d'. Except without the humble smile.
Every sitting surface (except the rocking chair sitting smugly at the desk) was now covered with technological errata. Stray bits of wire, fasteners, and switches littered the floor near a few devices that looked like they had been thrown several times. The Master made no apologies for the mess.
Sam walked in quickly. He didn't want to miss the chance, in case the other man suddenly changed his mind. Once in, he glanced around the flat, taking in as many details as he could. Except there were so many details. He curled his lip at the mess.
Finally he turned back to the Master, obviously disgusted. "I hope you don't keep your room at home like this."
Master curbed the impulse to kick Sam as he entered, then quickly had to curb it again in response to the first thing out of his mouth. The prat was already treading on his very last nerve. He closed the door behind Sam, reapplied the locks and the chain, not really caring how uncomfortable it might make the other man feel.
Sam watched him chain the door. It made him feel completely uneased, but he ignored it, trying not to give the Master what he wanted. He flipped open the notebook to a blank page, fully expecting the Master to have the information he needed. He didn't give the Master time to respond instead just started talking again. "As you may already know, there's been a murder committed here."
He raised his eyebrows at what Sam said next, deciding to play dumb. Level the playing field a little. "What, in this room? Don't suppose you're confusing the past with the near future? Are you clairvoyant on top of being excessively annoying?"
Sam rubbed his face with his free hand. When he lowered his hand, he stared at the Master before finally losing his cool. "Outside!...In a shop! Someone got killed and there was some evidence found here! Did you hear anything?! See anything?!"
The Master blinked. It was disorienting watching himself get so agitated. No, not me, he quickly amended.
So that's what this was all about, the extra traffic in the Alley earlier, departing from what looked like the pharmacy. He'd caught sight of Rose and the Doctor, amongst others. They'd be ones to stick their noses straight in it.
He decided to be straightforward. "I've been... out. Seems I missed all the action-- including any secret meetings regarding the subject?" He looked pointedly at Sam. "Now, I did do a quick scan of the Network and it does appear that the guilty party has revealed itself. So I'm afraid your little would-be detective act, charming as it is, seems quite unnecessary."
Sam sighed, already losing interest in this. Maybe he'd just go back to this flat and hide again after this. Detecting was overrated, anyway.
"I know that, of course, that's not why I'm here. If you were out...then...I guess you haven't got anything to tell me." He nodded, disappointed and folded his notepad over again.
He looked at the Master, obviously wanting to ask him more, but waiting for permission to do so. Just to irritate him.
Oh, he had plenty of things to tell Sam. But the Master decided he'd rather not give him the satisfaction of seeing how... irrationally bitter he felt regarding being excluded. Excluded, and then expected to answer questions whenever they were stuck with some rather inconsequential problem.
After a long silence in which the other simply stared at him, the Master cleared his throat. "Is that all? I've got some things I'd really rather get back to. Infinitely more interesting things. Watching pots boil. Sorting my socks by color. Washing my hair. You understand."
Sam glanced up from the notebook. "Wash your hair? That can't possibly take very long." He gave an innocent smile toward the Master.
The Master did not return the smile. "Judging by your appearance I doubt you're any sort of expert on the topic." He hated to prolong this infantile exchange, but felt it did need to be said.
"If that's all you came here to say, I'll see you out," he continued evenly, moving toward the door. "Thank you so much for the utter waste of time."
Sam leaned back on his heals, smug. "No, but I thought I'd clear it with you. I wanted to tell you I met a friend of yours. I thought you might care."
Moving to the door had of course been a bluff. The Master was not surprised it had worked; Sam Tyler had a sort of desperate air about him. He stood there with his hand on the first lock, watching Sam, waiting to see if this would actually yield important information or if it was just more of his endless blather.
Sam watched the Master for a moment before turning toward him fully.
"I just met him...he just got here...." Sam paused, trying to get to the point. "He's a nice guy, as far as I can tell. So what the hell is he doing knowing you?"
The Master was unimpressed. Loads of people knew him, or at least of him. Although something about this conversation was making him uneasy, he couldn't pinpoint it. "I haven't the slightest," he snapped. "Of course, knowing to whom you were referring might help. Might want to jot that down in your little notebook there."
"Well, that's the interesting part..." Sam sauntered around the apartment and picked up a couple pieces of...he wasn't sure what they are, but he picked them up and looked at them as he talked.
"Don't touch those," the Master's voice was suddenly sharp, and he was rounding back toward Sam with quick, angry strides before the next sentence left Sam's mouth.
"He has a name like yours, but why would there be two different men here with the same name?" Sam looked up at the Master, narrowing his eyes and showing his teeth in a wicked smile.
No. No, no no no no no.
Doctor.
No.
He belatedly realized he'd stopped moving, completely let his guard down. He couldn't even imagine his expression, and couldn't care.
He's come back for me, he thought, and this idea brought him a strange mixture of dread... and relief.
Sam watched his face carefully, trying to read his reaction. He nodded slowly. "I met him in Diagon Alley. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought I was you. He seemed very...emotional to see you." Sam nodded again, just once.
The Master started a little bit when Sam spoke, as if he'd forgotten he was there. He refocused his gaze on him, then closed the distance between them, suddenly looking very intent.
"What did he do? What did he say?" His eyes burned into Sam's. He cared less and less about how desperate he must seem. If the Doctor was truly here again-- his Doctor-- had he been able to find a way back?
Sam held his hand up, trying to keep the Master back. "I didn't do anything, calm the fuck down," Sam looked a little nervous, and slightly disgusted all at the same time.
"I don't know, he acted like he was happy to see me--you. He was extremely vague on everything. He said his name was the Doctor. But he doesn't look anything like the man everyone else calls the Doctor." Sam looked at the Master, waiting to see what he had to say about it before continuing.
"Different regeneration," the Master muttered carelessly. His mind was whirling. He hadn't been able to sense him, although he was altogether sure that might have something to do with multiple regenerations existing in the same time. Still, he was here, out there, somewhere, and it was only a matter of time before he'd find him. What to do, what to do.
He turned his attention back to Sam, concentrating on the words, speaking softly and slowly. "Listen carefully. He's not nice. He's dangerous. He's destroyed civilizations. His own-- ours. The Doctor cannot be trusted. He needs to be watched." Whether the hypnotic quality of his speaking would hold or not, there was no harm in telling the truth and planting another seed of suspicion in this community.
Sam shook his head a little.
"No, no...we can't be talking about the same guy," despite his words there was obvious doubt in Sam's voice. He glanced toward his notebook. He was supposed to meet with the Doctor later, tomorrow, maybe it was a trap, maybe he was a psychopath...
He turned back to the Master again. "I don't understand, then what about you? Because if you're trying to play the nice guy card...its not going to work."
The Master leaned back, satisfied at the look in Sam's eyes and the hesitant quality of his denial. He tugged the devices out of Sam's hands and carefully placed them back on the table.
"No, I'm not nice. But I am fair, and I've given you fair warning. Spend too much time with the Doctor and you'll watch everything you've ever loved slowly, painfully ripped away from you. He's a curse." The Master was becoming visibly agitated. He abruptly turned and stared out the window, the fingers of one hand tugging at his lower lip a little.
Sam stood there blankly, and didn't make any motion to stop the Master from taking the bits he'd found around the flat back. He watched the Master, stepping toward him to try and get his attention back. "What's so dangerous about him? I mean..what is that supposed to mean 'destroyed civilizations'? How do I know you're telling the truth?"
The last question was spoken half heartedly, it was a trick question. There was no good answer, and Sam didn't expect one. But he'd fallen so easily for everything he heard in this place, he wanted to at least appear cautious, especially to someone like the Master.
The Master continued to look out the window. He ignored the rather stupid questions. How was he to know if anyone was telling the truth?
"D'you have any idea what it was like?" he said finally. "Waking up, finding them all gone. Everything... quiet." He gestured vaguely to his head. "He did that. Stranded me. No way to get home... but it hardly mattered, did it? Because there was no home to get back to." He uttered something that was halfway between a chuckle and what sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.
Sam was quiet. He looked down at his shoes, and adjusted his posture a couple of times, swaying back and forth on his heels gently. He ran his tongue over his teeth before finally answering. He didn't look at the Master, just gave a small glance in his direction before speaking.
"Yeah." His voice was soft, so he cleared his throat and spoke more clearly. "Yeah, I do. I do know what it's like." Sam nodded sadly.
The Master afforded him a shrewd look. Sam Tyler had just gotten infinitesimally more interesting. "You're human." It was a question, although it didn't sound like one.
Sam looked offended as he finally raised his head. "Yeah, I'm a human, so what? I know what it's like to lose everyone, to wake up and they're all gone. Everyone you know! Everything you know!" He was nearly yelling, so he quieted his voice, now just above a whisper. "Its just gone and no one even knows who you are..."
Sam made a fist with his hands and turned back to the ground, visibly upset, he turned a shoulder toward the Master.
The Master felt disoriented again. Although he would never have reduced himself quite to this level of hysterical squawking (he thought), the words themselves-- the feelings behind them-- were again so similar.
Nevertheless, he shook his head. "No. No, it's not the same." He took another moment to gather his thoughts. "You... never die out. Your detestably ignorant species stumbles blindly all the way to the end." He glared at Sam as if this were somehow his fault entirely. "I'm not merely speaking of friends, or family, or lovers-- even semi-acquaintances. Imagine all of it-- everything-- burnt away. Every last one of your kind vanished. Can you? Can you really understand what that feels like?" His own fists clenched, and he felt the familiar pounding increase its volume. It often responded to thoughts of the Time War.
Sam looked up at him when he spoke. How do you respond to that?
Sam just nodded dumbly, forming his words carefully. "No...I can't, I can't even begin to understand it. I'm sorry." Brilliant. "Even where I went to, I still had people there. People who cared." Sam's voice cracked a little, so he stopped there.
"How fortunate for you." The Master sneered, not appreciating the reminder that here he had no one. Except for Rose, maybe, but even that had been a volatile relationship lately.
Perhaps he could use this conversation, this strange coincidence, to his advantage, though. The Master's expression softened a little as he looked at Sam.
"Despite the difference in degree, we've both lost our homes, haven't we." He allowed himself just a hint of a sad smile.
Sam returned the same hurt smile, and then glanced away, almost coyly.
"You wouldn't even believe my story if I told you..." he wanted to use the man's name, but saying Master just felt wrong, he looked at him again. "Haven't you got a common name or something?"
The Master shrugged and looked down. "I'm sure you wouldn't believe my story either. And no," he replied to the question, "I don't." Why did everyone ask him that?
"Whatever you have to say for yourself, I'm sure its a lot more believable than mine." It was obvious Sam wanted the Master to ask, but Sam wasn't sure if he'd tell him the truth or not when he did.
Doakes had made his way up a good chunk of the opposite side of the street, being met with little more than a slew of doors without owners. While doing so, he'd been glancing over his shoulder periodically to keep an eye out on Sam. He'd seen him go into a shop some time ago, and had not yet seen him emerge. Turning away from another door, he let out something between a growl and a sigh.
It wasn't home, he wasn't expecting them to find much and wasn't sure if anything they did find would be useful at all (really the busywork and the familiarity was what made him cling to the investigation - he needed something to feel at least somewhat right), but it was the same rule as always - with a partner, you watch their back, and they watch yours. Doakes might be a lot of things, not all of them flattering, but he was definitely a cop. He couldn't very well have a fellow officer of the law alone and in trouble while he chased geese. He crossed his arms, glanced around, looked back at the unanswered door, dropped his arms to his side and, finally, crossed the street.
He gave the native minding the shop a small nod as he entered, and walked at a steady but unrushed pace toward and then up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, he extended the back of his hand and knocked soundly on the door, listening intently as he stood and waited.
The Master darted his head towards the door when he heard the knocking, and froze a little, making no move to open it.
Sam looked at the door critically, eyes narrowing. "Expecting company?" He took a couple weary steps toward the door, half expecting this to be some sort of trap by the Master.
"Not exactly. Does anyone know you're here?" The Master made no move to stop him. Frankly, better his double face any danger than himself. If it was trouble, he'd make a good distraction while the Master... what? Ran? Probably running, although. Actually pretending to be Sam Tyler was looking more and more viable too.
Doakes shifted his weight as he listened, raising a brow as he heard a muffled, vaguely familiar voice. He knocked again.
"Tyler! You in there man?"
Reckless, perhaps, but recklessness wasn't really a great stretch for him.
The Master relaxed a little when he heard the voice. Nobody familiar, and not for him. He looked at Sam with mock impatience. "Well? Going to open it, then?"
Sam was relieved it was Sargent Doakes, for a moment he seriously thought he could be opening the door to a gun in his face. Another gun for the Master, but a first for Sam since being in Wonderland.
He unlocked the door casually and shrugged his shoulders. "Do I have to do everything around here?" he glanced back at the Master. Things were getting way too familiar talking to his own reflection. He made a note to stop that.
He opened the door just as he remembered he had a twin standing behind him. The look on his face when he turned to Doakes was less than friendly: a mix of oh-shit and uhh-let's-pretend-I-didn't-just-do-that.
"Hey, man. I ju-"
Doakes cut himself off abruptly mid-sentence as he noticed the man standing behind... Sam?
In front of Sam?
No, no, he glanced at the outfits. Behind Sam.
"The fuck...?" He trailed off, then tilted his head at Sam, "You, uh... related?"
The Master sighed testily at Doakes' comment.
Sam glanced back toward the Master. "Uh...no. He just looks like me." Sam nodded, he felt guilty, even though he had no reason to. He stepped back and opened the door wider, inviting Doakes into the Master's apartment.
He relaxed and rubbed his hand over his face with a deep sigh. "I don't know anything about it, I just came here, and this guy was running around with my face."
Doakes, somewhat hesitantly, stepped in just a few paces, glanced at Sam, then at the Master.
"Fucked up," was his insightful, muttered commentary.
He glanced over to Sam again, "I just noticed you were in here a while, thought I should check in. Guess you're alright though?" He looked over to the Master again, not entirely confident in that guess.
The Master widened his eyes in shock as Sam opened his door-- his door to this man he'd never met. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me. My flat. My face." He crossed quickly to the door, standing in front of Doakes, sizing him up and preventing him from entering further.
"Who is this, one of your 'detective' friends?" He addressed Sam, although he continued to stare at Doakes.
Sam curled his lip and rolled his eyes. "Calm down...yeah, this is Sargent Doakes. We're here about the murder. Remember? Other people? They have lives, too?" He raised his eyebrows toward the Master.
He looked back at Doakes, watching to see if he needed to step in to anything.
Doakes tilted his head at The Master, his expression not one of a man who was terribly impressed. In speech he remained calm, but spoke in a quieter tone than previously, "We're just trying to find out the victim's identity. Don't see any reason for you to be so worried."
The Master regarded Doakes, seeming slightly amused at what he found. "Good for you. I'm so glad you're all keeping yourselves busy. However, as I've already informed Mr. Tyler, I know nothing. Completely in the dark, in fact." He shot a significant glance at Sam.
Now with someone else here to back him up, Sam's attitude changed.
"That's hard to believe, Master. I've heard your name pop up in conversations more than once around here...if you didn't already have such a ridiculous moniker I'd say you were making quite the name for yourself."
Sam smiled a little, he was pushing the Master on purpose, he wanted to make sure he really didn't have anything to do with this...or know someone who did.
Oh, I'm sure you'll be screaming my name soon enough.
But he merely arched an eyebrow at Sam. "Is this how you normally do your work? Vague insults? I'm sure that really gets the criminal element to open up." He turned back to Sgt. Doakes. "Seriously, is he really an investigator?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sam chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, trying not to say anything else, but it didn't stop him for very long. He grabbed the Master's shoulder. This was embarrassing enough, but in front of Doakes was just too much. He clamped down on the familiar shoulder and pulled the other man toward the small hall leading to the bedroom.
He released once they were out of sight. "What are you doing?!"
The Master smirked, indicating their surroundings. "Foreplay over, then?" He seemed to be perpetually amused, but inside he was still furious at Doakes' interruption, wondering if all his work on this one was going to turn out to be for nothing.
Sam rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "I wouldn't waste my time on you." Sam made sure to take a step back from him after talking. Who knows how the hell these Time Lords acted toward each other, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to find out.
"No? Because I seem to recall wasting vast amounts of time with you just a few minutes ago. And now we're having some sort of clandestine meeting while your unconditional life partner awaits in the next room." The Master looked puzzled. "Tell me, Sam Tyler-- is there any purpose to your actions whatsoever? Or do you just flail through life randomly, hoping eventually you actually hit something of importance?"
Sam sighed, and rolled his eyes again. "You're making a scene. You're making people hate you. Is that what you do? Is that like some sort of goal of yours? Because you do it so incredibly well." Sam glared. "I've brought enough importance with my life that I don't have to go looking for it. I've made a difference. At least on my planet, I have." Sam looked down his nose at the Master. With his cuban heels, Sam was just tall enough to get away with it.
The Master looked bored. "I'd say this climate gives one more pressing issues to consider than one's popularity, wouldn't you? As far as making a difference--" He smiled in a rather unfriendly way, remembering that year of unlimited, bloody reign. "--My contributions won't be soon forgotten, at least by a few."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, looking suddenly very tired. "But you see, most people will never truly understand what we're about. How could they?"
Sam shook his head slightly at the Master, not completely understanding him.
"Maybe I don't want everyone here to understand what I'm about. They'd think I was psychotic, anyway." The last statement was more of a mumble.
"What do you want from me?" The Master's little game with Sam was starting to show. While normally Sam might play along, he didn't want to make Doakes suspicious. He got right to the point.
The Master idly wondered how psychotic Sam really was, and how advantageous it might be.
He blinked, a little incredulous, at what Sam said next. "Me? You're barging into my flat and dragging me into bedrooms, and this is what you come up with? What do I want? It seems perfectly obvious to me, from the way you very clearly have not gone away, that there's something you want. Something to do with this mysterious 'personal business,' perhaps?" He gave Sam a rather piercing look.
"I didn't barge in here...you opened the door for me. You act like I broke in here-- And yeah, you have my face, it is personal! If this Doctor is as dangerous as you say, then how do I know he's not going to kill me thinking its you?"
Sam honestly wasn't worried about it too much, but he needed an argument so he went with it. Even sounding upset and concerned about it.
"Ah, yes." The Master's face soured. "The Doctor." He had almost forgotten. "He is dangerous, but you seem to have survived a previous encounter in which he thought you were me. I doubt that is really why you were so insistent on forcing your way in." He concentrated on looking about as patient and diplomatic as he honestly didn't feel.
"We'll get nowhere the longer you lie to me. Come on, Sam. We were just starting to open up before--"
As if on cue he was rudely interrupted by a noise from the other room. He pushed past Sam without another word and strode quickly to the bedroom door.
"Get nowhere? Where the hell are we trying to get?" Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead as the Master ran away.
"Wait.." Sam lowered his hand, glancing around. He quickly followed the Master out.
Just what the fuck is going on here anyway?
"You out of my flat, hopefully," the Master muttered in response to Sam's question as he came back into the other room.
Doakes had remained standing with his back against the wall right next to the door he'd come through, his arms crossed, as he eyed the collection of random crap in the room with no lack of disdain. He took a step away from the wall, glancing around the room, finding it all equally distasteful.
He sighed with just a touch of irritation.
"Ah, Sgt. Doakes, was it?" The Master smiled an apology to the man, his arms out wide in the kind of ironic greeting he reserved for the authority figures he had the least respect for. "I'm so sorry for that. Bit of 'personal business.'" He made a great show of straightening his tie and suit jacket, surreptitiously scanning the room while he did so to see if this Doakes had touched anything.
Sam sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He walked over to the Master and clamped his hand onto his shoulder. He gave an apologetic glance toward Doakes.
"Ignore him..."
He turned his attention back to the Master, and talked quietly, pulling on his shoulder to at least get him to turn back in Sam's direction but hoping to pull him back toward the hall.
"Listen..." he didn't say anything more, he just wanted to make sure the Master knew what he was about to say was important.
The Master put on a pout. "Why won't you let me talk to the nice man, sweetheart?" he called out for Doakes' benefit, but he let himself be pulled by Sam.
Sam pulled the Master back into the bedroom.
"Cut the crap. Look, I want to ask you something." He released his grip on the Master. Still, Sam didn't say what he wanted. He wasn't trying to be mysterious or important...well, maybe just a little important.
This man was almost embarrassingly tiresome. Scratch that. He was definitely embarrassing, and definitely tiresome. The Master counted exactly thirteen seconds of silence before he had had enough. He could not stand here facing his flawed double for hours while the Doctor was doubtless sniffing his insufferable way to his door right at this moment.
"Oh really." He wore an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Do I have to give you permission?"
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just want to make sure you know this is serious. Do I need to tell anyone about the Doctor? I mean warn them..." Sam paused and then spoke quickly, just thinking of something. "And what about his girlfriend?"
Oh, this was going to be so good. The Master dutifully looked serious, adding a smidge of frankness into the mix.
"If you're asking for advice, or further information, regarding the Doctor... I'm afraid I'm going to require a little information in return. Lines of trust need to run both ways."
Sam shrugged a little.
"I don't have anything that would interest you. I don't know anything." He shook his head a little. He felt nervous, like he'd just stepped into something he should have avoided.
The Master held Sam's gaze as best he could, although the man's agitation was manifest in his constant movement, making it difficult.
"Oh, I doubt that very much," he said softly. "I want to know what was said today in the pharmacy. It seemed like a lot of very important people were filing out of it earlier. Including Detective Abberline. And you."
Sam sighed and leaned against the wall. He folded his arms over his chest.
"Nothing that wasn't already public information. A vampire killed someone. We want to know who that someone was." He shrugged. "Nothing important happened, I was asked to ask around and see if anyone heard anything, or knew anything..."
The Master looked at him in a dismayed, sad way. A "See what you make me do?" sort of way.
"Oh, Sam. I know you're not telling me everything. This is so... disappointing. I wanted to give you the option of being honest with me, but if you insist on being so stubborn... I do have other means of procuring knowledge from you."
He didn't make a move towards Sam, but his expression made it clear that if he was refused again, it would be a regrettable mistake.
Sam immediatly pushed off the wall and held a hand up toward the Time Lord.
"I'm telling you the truth. It was discussed what we're supposed to do about this matter...but no one had any idea. So here I am, talking to you, instead of doing what I was sent to do. If the Doctor is that dangerous, then I need to tell someone about this."
He slowly relaxed his hand back down to his side.
The Master weighed things in his mind. He could unlock this one's mind, right now, but he knew that would break what little trust he had managed to gain. And having someone keep a mistrustful eye on the Doctor, for once, could be very, very rewarding in the long and short term.
But would he get this chance again, anytime soon, to find out what Abberline and the others were up to? He knew it was something that affected him, somehow, but that was the extent of it.
Yet to have an ally in this place, especially one aligned against the Doctor, seemed more urgent. He was far less worried about anyone else at the moment. And he could sense Sam wasn't keeping anything from him purposefully. The truth might out eventually all on its own.
The Master sighed, making up his mind. "Rose might be a problem," he admitted. "She is fiercely loyal to the Doctor, although she occasionally has moments of actual intelligence. That said, I would be careful whom you warn about the version of the Doctor who's been skulking around here for a while; he's probably accumulated a fair amount of ill-informed supporters. The Doctor who's more newly arrived, however-- you'd have a far easier time getting people to actually listen. But make no mistake-- the two may look and act slightly different but underneath they're the same."
It took Sam a few seconds to respond, going over everything in his head.
"You haven't actually told me anything. Why should I believe you? Everyone in this place hates you, and they're not even from the same time period. He was weird, I'll give you that." Sam took a couple beats. "He was really weird, and emotional...but if he were an ax murderer, I wouldn't have taken him home."
Sam realized the connotations of that last statement, and quickly tried to move past it.
"Look, there are things going on in this place that are a lot more important than some feud between aliens. I don't need to get in the middle of this. Unless you give me some reason to believe you, there's not much I can do."
Sam nodded, trying to reassure himself. But the seed had already been planted. He'd promised a meeting to the Doctor, and he was desperately rethinking it...or at least rethinking the discussion he'd be having with him.
The Master rolled his eyes as if he didn't honestly care what Sam thought. "Suit yourself. Obviously you take much greater stock in what others expect you to think than what is actually true. Human nature, I suppose." Although this could have been a concession if it had been spoken by one of Sam's own species, the Master looked a little disgusted, as if being human was a defect.
"But if you ever do want to know, you can always ask him. Ask him what happened to Gallifrey. Or Adric. Or... this might take him back a bit... Sara Kingdom." The Master smiled nastily.
"Fine." Sam said hastily. "I'll ask him. And then what? He's just going to admit to being a serial killer?" He shook his head. "I don't have time for this."
Sam wasn't quite sure why he said that...because really he had a lot of time. It's not like he had to be anywhere, or do anything.
The Master looked scandalized. "Who would ever just... come out and admit to that?"
"No one's stopping you leaving," he continued. "In fact, at least "one" is highly encouraging you." But instead of immediately clearing the way for Sam's hopeful exit, he thought a moment.
"Just one thing, one favor. You can do that much for me, I think."
"I don't owe you anything." He took a step forward, expecting the Master to move out of his way. He sighed when the Time Lord didn't.
"What? What do you want?"
Apprehension and maybe a little fear flitted across the Master's face. "Don't tell him where to find me."
Sam shook his head a little, trying not to sigh and roll his eyes again. "Why?"
"Because the last time he saw me I..." The Master cleared his throat, then looked Sam in the eye. "I died," he said plainly. "I was killed trying to escape him." He looked down for a few long seconds, then seemed to gather himself again and gave Sam a hospitably fake smile, stepping out of the way of the door.
"Well then. Off you go. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful."
Sam watched him, even after he moved out of the way. Then finally Sam nodded. "I won't tell him where you are....did he kill you?"
The Master closed his eyes, as if the subject hurt him too much to even continue discussing it. "Yes." Without hesitation. Because really, wasn't it true? Wasn't it? Wasn't the Doctor the reason everything seemed to happen?
He opened his eyes. "Thank you." In a way he was sincere, even if he had carefully manipulated Sam into this position. It was... refreshing to have someone here listen. Listen and maybe even believe, just a little. Just enough.
He reached out and put his hand on the other man's shoulder for a second.
"I'm sorry..." It wasn't nearly enough to say, but Sam didn't know what else to say. He gave a weak smile, feeling sick to his stomach. "He thought I was you....he thought I was you....so what, what was he doing hugging me like that?"
The Master shot a glance at Sam's hand, clearly wanting it off, and clearly relieved that it didn't stay very long.
"Remorse, perhaps. We were friends, once." His smile had vanished and he was staring off into the distance as if he was thinking of some old horror. "He was so fixated on keeping me with him. Didn't want me to leave."
"I know, I mean...that happened to me, too." Sam nodded, hoping that was enough explanation to him. "I mean, not in that way."
Sam started to fidget with his hands, tugging on the cuffs of his jacket. He said too much.
"I should probably..." he gestured with his head toward the exit.
The Master nodded, not meeting Sam's eyes. "Take care," he said quietly. Unlike Sam, he did not fidget-- but inwardly he was nearly dancing with impatience. Some of it gleeful, yes, but most of it preoccupied with his next move. He trusted Sam not to divulge his whereabouts, yes. The others? Not so much. And Doakes was a clear liability.
Sam nodded, but he didn't move away.
"We should probably talk about this another time." There was a short pause, and then a small smile. "I mean, if you want to."
The Master was very much not interested in becoming Sam's charity case, some sort of curious little pet for him to take care of-- but keeping in touch was part of the plan.
"Perhaps we should," he smiled in return. Hopefully it wasn't too wide.
Sam watched his face for a second and took a step toward the door. Sam turned back to the Master quickly, and held his hand out toward him.
"I'll see you around, then."
The Master hesitated, then grasped his hand lightly, like he wasn't sure what to do with it.
Sam shook his hand firmly. He turned back to the door and walked out. He made a quick glance around the flat before walking to the front door.
Somewhat sick of standing around and thoroughly disgusted with the kitsch of the flat's decor, Doakes had opted to step out of for the time being and was currently on the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing and typing into the Network on the red phone that had somehow become his.
Sam seemed to be able to handle things well enough, but he didn't want to go too terribly far... this Master character still seemed somewhat shady to him, though mostly just an annoyance.
He found his taste in decor rather suspicious, though.
Once Sam stepped out, he saw Doakes and just gave the man a cursory nod. Sam had a lot on his mind now, and he was pretty sure they weren't going to find anything out in the alley.
He walked toward the stairs and began descending them back down to the shop.
http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/66268.html
Rating: PG13, probably
Date: After this.
Location: Diagon Alley
Sam waved back at Doakes as he made his way to the shop across the street. There was a fox on the sign, and he could see stairs in through the window, so he opened the door to the fox shop and walked inside. He didn't want to seem impatient, so he glanced around before walking to the stairs.
He ascended them easily, and found the door at the top of the stairs. He waited a moment, before knocking steadily on the door. Again, he clasped his hands behind his back and waited at attention. Waited at the Master's door.
The Master jumped a little at the sound. He'd just gotten back from his little tete-a-tete with Gwen and for a thin, tense second he was convinced that retribution was already here, at his door.
He shook his head slightly, erasing that notion. Too soon. And almost nobody knew where, specifically, he was-- he had been very careful to limit information. Still, he made a mental note to install a peephole.
His caution now tempered with irritation at being disturbed, the Master made his way to the door, noting the rick-a-rack had mysteriously leapt back to the walls of its own accord. He hadn't bothered relocking the door yet (although he had removed that horrible rain slicker) but he slid the chain back on before opening the door a crack and peering out.
His own face gaped back at him. Brilliant.
"Sorry, I gave to the Pathetic Dimwits' Fund already," he managed, and started closing the door.
There was a very brief moment where Sam was entirely confused. He reacted before the confusion had lifted - pushing his hand against the door quickly, not letting it shut.
"Wait!...Wait, wait, wait." Sam narrowed his eyes a little bit. "What the hell are you doing here?" Sam acted as if the Master had invaded an already occupied dwelling. He just assumed that was something the Master would do.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" the Master snapped. "I realize you are painfully slow, but I was giving you some benefit of the doubt. Seems I was foolish to do so." The last few words came out in a heave of exertion as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to shove the door shut.
Sam held the door with his hand, trying to force it open wider. He stepped closer to the opening of the door. "You know...it's quite fortuitous that I would come upon you like this. Remember what we were discussing earlier?" Sam didn't wait for him to answer, just continued talking.
"Yeah well, I think we need to discuss it again." There was a slight pause, but Sam wouldn't shut up. "Oh, and I have a few questions to ask you!"
The Master gritted his teeth. Questions? This did not bode well. He thought again about the loose ends he'd left with Gwen. "Not a good time!" he called out. "Come back never."
He was dead certain, though, that Sam Tyler would never shut up, and he'd never go away. In his mental note he crossed out the peephole, and added the urgent need to find somewhere else to situate himself.
"That's funny!" Sam called out, louder than necessary. "It's a perfect time for me!
"Like I said, I have a few things to discuss, and a few questions to ask. So why don't you undo the chain and we can have a nice chat?" He held the door firm with one hand and reached into his jacket pocket with the other, retrieving his notebook, meaning to jot down any notes if the Master provided him with any information. He noticed there was a message on the network, though. He held the door with his back, still shoving against it to keep it open on the chain, while he replied.
Why don't we sit down and have a nice little chat where I can tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me, I don't think!
The Master felt a little dizzy for a second, and leaned back against the door, more for support now than to keep anyone out. He weighed his options. He could keep pushing on the door and wait for him to leave. Which could conceivably take ages. He could shut the door with the pretense of slipping the chain, and either wait for him to leave or slip out through the window. Being on the second story ruled the latter out.
Or he could let him in now, get what information he could, and then decide his next move. Even though this was the most unpalatable option, it would probably serve his purposes more than having this obnoxious jackass bring any more attention to his flat than he needed at the moment. And he had to admit that he was a little curious as to why he had a dumbed down version of himself cavorting self-importantly around Wonderland.
The Master swallowed, realizing he'd been effectively backed into a corner. "I'm... going to take off the chain, if you'll just let me close the door," he said, reappearing at the crack in the door. Then his eyes narrowed. "You're going to take notes?"
Sam stood up and relaxed away from the door. "As long as you promise to open the door..." his tone was extremely patronizing, on purpose. He glanced toward his notepad, and gestured to it with his free hand. "Yeah, if you say anything important, I need to keep a record of it, don't I?" Sam raised his eyebrows toward the break in the door.
"Look, whether you're aware or not...some very serious things have been happening in this place. I'd like to talk to you. I'm not accusing you of anything, and you're not a suspect. But you may be a very important help to this case, and I want to talk to you face to face. The other business I have with you is personal."
Slipping back into his authority role was effortless. Now if only his badge actually meant something here...
The Master's expression was inscrutable, but sure enough, after he closed the door the sound of a chain sliding back could clearly be heard. The door reopened and the Master stood aside, wordlessly motioning him inside with the grandiose, sweeping gesture one might expect of a maitre d'. Except without the humble smile.
Every sitting surface (except the rocking chair sitting smugly at the desk) was now covered with technological errata. Stray bits of wire, fasteners, and switches littered the floor near a few devices that looked like they had been thrown several times. The Master made no apologies for the mess.
Sam walked in quickly. He didn't want to miss the chance, in case the other man suddenly changed his mind. Once in, he glanced around the flat, taking in as many details as he could. Except there were so many details. He curled his lip at the mess.
Finally he turned back to the Master, obviously disgusted. "I hope you don't keep your room at home like this."
Master curbed the impulse to kick Sam as he entered, then quickly had to curb it again in response to the first thing out of his mouth. The prat was already treading on his very last nerve. He closed the door behind Sam, reapplied the locks and the chain, not really caring how uncomfortable it might make the other man feel.
Sam watched him chain the door. It made him feel completely uneased, but he ignored it, trying not to give the Master what he wanted. He flipped open the notebook to a blank page, fully expecting the Master to have the information he needed. He didn't give the Master time to respond instead just started talking again. "As you may already know, there's been a murder committed here."
He raised his eyebrows at what Sam said next, deciding to play dumb. Level the playing field a little. "What, in this room? Don't suppose you're confusing the past with the near future? Are you clairvoyant on top of being excessively annoying?"
Sam rubbed his face with his free hand. When he lowered his hand, he stared at the Master before finally losing his cool. "Outside!...In a shop! Someone got killed and there was some evidence found here! Did you hear anything?! See anything?!"
The Master blinked. It was disorienting watching himself get so agitated. No, not me, he quickly amended.
So that's what this was all about, the extra traffic in the Alley earlier, departing from what looked like the pharmacy. He'd caught sight of Rose and the Doctor, amongst others. They'd be ones to stick their noses straight in it.
He decided to be straightforward. "I've been... out. Seems I missed all the action-- including any secret meetings regarding the subject?" He looked pointedly at Sam. "Now, I did do a quick scan of the Network and it does appear that the guilty party has revealed itself. So I'm afraid your little would-be detective act, charming as it is, seems quite unnecessary."
Sam sighed, already losing interest in this. Maybe he'd just go back to this flat and hide again after this. Detecting was overrated, anyway.
"I know that, of course, that's not why I'm here. If you were out...then...I guess you haven't got anything to tell me." He nodded, disappointed and folded his notepad over again.
He looked at the Master, obviously wanting to ask him more, but waiting for permission to do so. Just to irritate him.
Oh, he had plenty of things to tell Sam. But the Master decided he'd rather not give him the satisfaction of seeing how... irrationally bitter he felt regarding being excluded. Excluded, and then expected to answer questions whenever they were stuck with some rather inconsequential problem.
After a long silence in which the other simply stared at him, the Master cleared his throat. "Is that all? I've got some things I'd really rather get back to. Infinitely more interesting things. Watching pots boil. Sorting my socks by color. Washing my hair. You understand."
Sam glanced up from the notebook. "Wash your hair? That can't possibly take very long." He gave an innocent smile toward the Master.
The Master did not return the smile. "Judging by your appearance I doubt you're any sort of expert on the topic." He hated to prolong this infantile exchange, but felt it did need to be said.
"If that's all you came here to say, I'll see you out," he continued evenly, moving toward the door. "Thank you so much for the utter waste of time."
Sam leaned back on his heals, smug. "No, but I thought I'd clear it with you. I wanted to tell you I met a friend of yours. I thought you might care."
Moving to the door had of course been a bluff. The Master was not surprised it had worked; Sam Tyler had a sort of desperate air about him. He stood there with his hand on the first lock, watching Sam, waiting to see if this would actually yield important information or if it was just more of his endless blather.
Sam watched the Master for a moment before turning toward him fully.
"I just met him...he just got here...." Sam paused, trying to get to the point. "He's a nice guy, as far as I can tell. So what the hell is he doing knowing you?"
The Master was unimpressed. Loads of people knew him, or at least of him. Although something about this conversation was making him uneasy, he couldn't pinpoint it. "I haven't the slightest," he snapped. "Of course, knowing to whom you were referring might help. Might want to jot that down in your little notebook there."
"Well, that's the interesting part..." Sam sauntered around the apartment and picked up a couple pieces of...he wasn't sure what they are, but he picked them up and looked at them as he talked.
"Don't touch those," the Master's voice was suddenly sharp, and he was rounding back toward Sam with quick, angry strides before the next sentence left Sam's mouth.
"He has a name like yours, but why would there be two different men here with the same name?" Sam looked up at the Master, narrowing his eyes and showing his teeth in a wicked smile.
No. No, no no no no no.
Doctor.
No.
He belatedly realized he'd stopped moving, completely let his guard down. He couldn't even imagine his expression, and couldn't care.
He's come back for me, he thought, and this idea brought him a strange mixture of dread... and relief.
Sam watched his face carefully, trying to read his reaction. He nodded slowly. "I met him in Diagon Alley. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought I was you. He seemed very...emotional to see you." Sam nodded again, just once.
The Master started a little bit when Sam spoke, as if he'd forgotten he was there. He refocused his gaze on him, then closed the distance between them, suddenly looking very intent.
"What did he do? What did he say?" His eyes burned into Sam's. He cared less and less about how desperate he must seem. If the Doctor was truly here again-- his Doctor-- had he been able to find a way back?
Sam held his hand up, trying to keep the Master back. "I didn't do anything, calm the fuck down," Sam looked a little nervous, and slightly disgusted all at the same time.
"I don't know, he acted like he was happy to see me--you. He was extremely vague on everything. He said his name was the Doctor. But he doesn't look anything like the man everyone else calls the Doctor." Sam looked at the Master, waiting to see what he had to say about it before continuing.
"Different regeneration," the Master muttered carelessly. His mind was whirling. He hadn't been able to sense him, although he was altogether sure that might have something to do with multiple regenerations existing in the same time. Still, he was here, out there, somewhere, and it was only a matter of time before he'd find him. What to do, what to do.
He turned his attention back to Sam, concentrating on the words, speaking softly and slowly. "Listen carefully. He's not nice. He's dangerous. He's destroyed civilizations. His own-- ours. The Doctor cannot be trusted. He needs to be watched." Whether the hypnotic quality of his speaking would hold or not, there was no harm in telling the truth and planting another seed of suspicion in this community.
Sam shook his head a little.
"No, no...we can't be talking about the same guy," despite his words there was obvious doubt in Sam's voice. He glanced toward his notebook. He was supposed to meet with the Doctor later, tomorrow, maybe it was a trap, maybe he was a psychopath...
He turned back to the Master again. "I don't understand, then what about you? Because if you're trying to play the nice guy card...its not going to work."
The Master leaned back, satisfied at the look in Sam's eyes and the hesitant quality of his denial. He tugged the devices out of Sam's hands and carefully placed them back on the table.
"No, I'm not nice. But I am fair, and I've given you fair warning. Spend too much time with the Doctor and you'll watch everything you've ever loved slowly, painfully ripped away from you. He's a curse." The Master was becoming visibly agitated. He abruptly turned and stared out the window, the fingers of one hand tugging at his lower lip a little.
Sam stood there blankly, and didn't make any motion to stop the Master from taking the bits he'd found around the flat back. He watched the Master, stepping toward him to try and get his attention back. "What's so dangerous about him? I mean..what is that supposed to mean 'destroyed civilizations'? How do I know you're telling the truth?"
The last question was spoken half heartedly, it was a trick question. There was no good answer, and Sam didn't expect one. But he'd fallen so easily for everything he heard in this place, he wanted to at least appear cautious, especially to someone like the Master.
The Master continued to look out the window. He ignored the rather stupid questions. How was he to know if anyone was telling the truth?
"D'you have any idea what it was like?" he said finally. "Waking up, finding them all gone. Everything... quiet." He gestured vaguely to his head. "He did that. Stranded me. No way to get home... but it hardly mattered, did it? Because there was no home to get back to." He uttered something that was halfway between a chuckle and what sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.
Sam was quiet. He looked down at his shoes, and adjusted his posture a couple of times, swaying back and forth on his heels gently. He ran his tongue over his teeth before finally answering. He didn't look at the Master, just gave a small glance in his direction before speaking.
"Yeah." His voice was soft, so he cleared his throat and spoke more clearly. "Yeah, I do. I do know what it's like." Sam nodded sadly.
The Master afforded him a shrewd look. Sam Tyler had just gotten infinitesimally more interesting. "You're human." It was a question, although it didn't sound like one.
Sam looked offended as he finally raised his head. "Yeah, I'm a human, so what? I know what it's like to lose everyone, to wake up and they're all gone. Everyone you know! Everything you know!" He was nearly yelling, so he quieted his voice, now just above a whisper. "Its just gone and no one even knows who you are..."
Sam made a fist with his hands and turned back to the ground, visibly upset, he turned a shoulder toward the Master.
The Master felt disoriented again. Although he would never have reduced himself quite to this level of hysterical squawking (he thought), the words themselves-- the feelings behind them-- were again so similar.
Nevertheless, he shook his head. "No. No, it's not the same." He took another moment to gather his thoughts. "You... never die out. Your detestably ignorant species stumbles blindly all the way to the end." He glared at Sam as if this were somehow his fault entirely. "I'm not merely speaking of friends, or family, or lovers-- even semi-acquaintances. Imagine all of it-- everything-- burnt away. Every last one of your kind vanished. Can you? Can you really understand what that feels like?" His own fists clenched, and he felt the familiar pounding increase its volume. It often responded to thoughts of the Time War.
Sam looked up at him when he spoke. How do you respond to that?
Sam just nodded dumbly, forming his words carefully. "No...I can't, I can't even begin to understand it. I'm sorry." Brilliant. "Even where I went to, I still had people there. People who cared." Sam's voice cracked a little, so he stopped there.
"How fortunate for you." The Master sneered, not appreciating the reminder that here he had no one. Except for Rose, maybe, but even that had been a volatile relationship lately.
Perhaps he could use this conversation, this strange coincidence, to his advantage, though. The Master's expression softened a little as he looked at Sam.
"Despite the difference in degree, we've both lost our homes, haven't we." He allowed himself just a hint of a sad smile.
Sam returned the same hurt smile, and then glanced away, almost coyly.
"You wouldn't even believe my story if I told you..." he wanted to use the man's name, but saying Master just felt wrong, he looked at him again. "Haven't you got a common name or something?"
The Master shrugged and looked down. "I'm sure you wouldn't believe my story either. And no," he replied to the question, "I don't." Why did everyone ask him that?
"Whatever you have to say for yourself, I'm sure its a lot more believable than mine." It was obvious Sam wanted the Master to ask, but Sam wasn't sure if he'd tell him the truth or not when he did.
Doakes had made his way up a good chunk of the opposite side of the street, being met with little more than a slew of doors without owners. While doing so, he'd been glancing over his shoulder periodically to keep an eye out on Sam. He'd seen him go into a shop some time ago, and had not yet seen him emerge. Turning away from another door, he let out something between a growl and a sigh.
It wasn't home, he wasn't expecting them to find much and wasn't sure if anything they did find would be useful at all (really the busywork and the familiarity was what made him cling to the investigation - he needed something to feel at least somewhat right), but it was the same rule as always - with a partner, you watch their back, and they watch yours. Doakes might be a lot of things, not all of them flattering, but he was definitely a cop. He couldn't very well have a fellow officer of the law alone and in trouble while he chased geese. He crossed his arms, glanced around, looked back at the unanswered door, dropped his arms to his side and, finally, crossed the street.
He gave the native minding the shop a small nod as he entered, and walked at a steady but unrushed pace toward and then up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, he extended the back of his hand and knocked soundly on the door, listening intently as he stood and waited.
The Master darted his head towards the door when he heard the knocking, and froze a little, making no move to open it.
Sam looked at the door critically, eyes narrowing. "Expecting company?" He took a couple weary steps toward the door, half expecting this to be some sort of trap by the Master.
"Not exactly. Does anyone know you're here?" The Master made no move to stop him. Frankly, better his double face any danger than himself. If it was trouble, he'd make a good distraction while the Master... what? Ran? Probably running, although. Actually pretending to be Sam Tyler was looking more and more viable too.
Doakes shifted his weight as he listened, raising a brow as he heard a muffled, vaguely familiar voice. He knocked again.
"Tyler! You in there man?"
Reckless, perhaps, but recklessness wasn't really a great stretch for him.
The Master relaxed a little when he heard the voice. Nobody familiar, and not for him. He looked at Sam with mock impatience. "Well? Going to open it, then?"
Sam was relieved it was Sargent Doakes, for a moment he seriously thought he could be opening the door to a gun in his face. Another gun for the Master, but a first for Sam since being in Wonderland.
He unlocked the door casually and shrugged his shoulders. "Do I have to do everything around here?" he glanced back at the Master. Things were getting way too familiar talking to his own reflection. He made a note to stop that.
He opened the door just as he remembered he had a twin standing behind him. The look on his face when he turned to Doakes was less than friendly: a mix of oh-shit and uhh-let's-pretend-I-didn't-just-do-that.
"Hey, man. I ju-"
Doakes cut himself off abruptly mid-sentence as he noticed the man standing behind... Sam?
In front of Sam?
No, no, he glanced at the outfits. Behind Sam.
"The fuck...?" He trailed off, then tilted his head at Sam, "You, uh... related?"
The Master sighed testily at Doakes' comment.
Sam glanced back toward the Master. "Uh...no. He just looks like me." Sam nodded, he felt guilty, even though he had no reason to. He stepped back and opened the door wider, inviting Doakes into the Master's apartment.
He relaxed and rubbed his hand over his face with a deep sigh. "I don't know anything about it, I just came here, and this guy was running around with my face."
Doakes, somewhat hesitantly, stepped in just a few paces, glanced at Sam, then at the Master.
"Fucked up," was his insightful, muttered commentary.
He glanced over to Sam again, "I just noticed you were in here a while, thought I should check in. Guess you're alright though?" He looked over to the Master again, not entirely confident in that guess.
The Master widened his eyes in shock as Sam opened his door-- his door to this man he'd never met. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me. My flat. My face." He crossed quickly to the door, standing in front of Doakes, sizing him up and preventing him from entering further.
"Who is this, one of your 'detective' friends?" He addressed Sam, although he continued to stare at Doakes.
Sam curled his lip and rolled his eyes. "Calm down...yeah, this is Sargent Doakes. We're here about the murder. Remember? Other people? They have lives, too?" He raised his eyebrows toward the Master.
He looked back at Doakes, watching to see if he needed to step in to anything.
Doakes tilted his head at The Master, his expression not one of a man who was terribly impressed. In speech he remained calm, but spoke in a quieter tone than previously, "We're just trying to find out the victim's identity. Don't see any reason for you to be so worried."
The Master regarded Doakes, seeming slightly amused at what he found. "Good for you. I'm so glad you're all keeping yourselves busy. However, as I've already informed Mr. Tyler, I know nothing. Completely in the dark, in fact." He shot a significant glance at Sam.
Now with someone else here to back him up, Sam's attitude changed.
"That's hard to believe, Master. I've heard your name pop up in conversations more than once around here...if you didn't already have such a ridiculous moniker I'd say you were making quite the name for yourself."
Sam smiled a little, he was pushing the Master on purpose, he wanted to make sure he really didn't have anything to do with this...or know someone who did.
Oh, I'm sure you'll be screaming my name soon enough.
But he merely arched an eyebrow at Sam. "Is this how you normally do your work? Vague insults? I'm sure that really gets the criminal element to open up." He turned back to Sgt. Doakes. "Seriously, is he really an investigator?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sam chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, trying not to say anything else, but it didn't stop him for very long. He grabbed the Master's shoulder. This was embarrassing enough, but in front of Doakes was just too much. He clamped down on the familiar shoulder and pulled the other man toward the small hall leading to the bedroom.
He released once they were out of sight. "What are you doing?!"
The Master smirked, indicating their surroundings. "Foreplay over, then?" He seemed to be perpetually amused, but inside he was still furious at Doakes' interruption, wondering if all his work on this one was going to turn out to be for nothing.
Sam rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "I wouldn't waste my time on you." Sam made sure to take a step back from him after talking. Who knows how the hell these Time Lords acted toward each other, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to find out.
"No? Because I seem to recall wasting vast amounts of time with you just a few minutes ago. And now we're having some sort of clandestine meeting while your unconditional life partner awaits in the next room." The Master looked puzzled. "Tell me, Sam Tyler-- is there any purpose to your actions whatsoever? Or do you just flail through life randomly, hoping eventually you actually hit something of importance?"
Sam sighed, and rolled his eyes again. "You're making a scene. You're making people hate you. Is that what you do? Is that like some sort of goal of yours? Because you do it so incredibly well." Sam glared. "I've brought enough importance with my life that I don't have to go looking for it. I've made a difference. At least on my planet, I have." Sam looked down his nose at the Master. With his cuban heels, Sam was just tall enough to get away with it.
The Master looked bored. "I'd say this climate gives one more pressing issues to consider than one's popularity, wouldn't you? As far as making a difference--" He smiled in a rather unfriendly way, remembering that year of unlimited, bloody reign. "--My contributions won't be soon forgotten, at least by a few."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, looking suddenly very tired. "But you see, most people will never truly understand what we're about. How could they?"
Sam shook his head slightly at the Master, not completely understanding him.
"Maybe I don't want everyone here to understand what I'm about. They'd think I was psychotic, anyway." The last statement was more of a mumble.
"What do you want from me?" The Master's little game with Sam was starting to show. While normally Sam might play along, he didn't want to make Doakes suspicious. He got right to the point.
The Master idly wondered how psychotic Sam really was, and how advantageous it might be.
He blinked, a little incredulous, at what Sam said next. "Me? You're barging into my flat and dragging me into bedrooms, and this is what you come up with? What do I want? It seems perfectly obvious to me, from the way you very clearly have not gone away, that there's something you want. Something to do with this mysterious 'personal business,' perhaps?" He gave Sam a rather piercing look.
"I didn't barge in here...you opened the door for me. You act like I broke in here-- And yeah, you have my face, it is personal! If this Doctor is as dangerous as you say, then how do I know he's not going to kill me thinking its you?"
Sam honestly wasn't worried about it too much, but he needed an argument so he went with it. Even sounding upset and concerned about it.
"Ah, yes." The Master's face soured. "The Doctor." He had almost forgotten. "He is dangerous, but you seem to have survived a previous encounter in which he thought you were me. I doubt that is really why you were so insistent on forcing your way in." He concentrated on looking about as patient and diplomatic as he honestly didn't feel.
"We'll get nowhere the longer you lie to me. Come on, Sam. We were just starting to open up before--"
As if on cue he was rudely interrupted by a noise from the other room. He pushed past Sam without another word and strode quickly to the bedroom door.
"Get nowhere? Where the hell are we trying to get?" Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead as the Master ran away.
"Wait.." Sam lowered his hand, glancing around. He quickly followed the Master out.
Just what the fuck is going on here anyway?
"You out of my flat, hopefully," the Master muttered in response to Sam's question as he came back into the other room.
Doakes had remained standing with his back against the wall right next to the door he'd come through, his arms crossed, as he eyed the collection of random crap in the room with no lack of disdain. He took a step away from the wall, glancing around the room, finding it all equally distasteful.
He sighed with just a touch of irritation.
"Ah, Sgt. Doakes, was it?" The Master smiled an apology to the man, his arms out wide in the kind of ironic greeting he reserved for the authority figures he had the least respect for. "I'm so sorry for that. Bit of 'personal business.'" He made a great show of straightening his tie and suit jacket, surreptitiously scanning the room while he did so to see if this Doakes had touched anything.
Sam sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He walked over to the Master and clamped his hand onto his shoulder. He gave an apologetic glance toward Doakes.
"Ignore him..."
He turned his attention back to the Master, and talked quietly, pulling on his shoulder to at least get him to turn back in Sam's direction but hoping to pull him back toward the hall.
"Listen..." he didn't say anything more, he just wanted to make sure the Master knew what he was about to say was important.
The Master put on a pout. "Why won't you let me talk to the nice man, sweetheart?" he called out for Doakes' benefit, but he let himself be pulled by Sam.
Sam pulled the Master back into the bedroom.
"Cut the crap. Look, I want to ask you something." He released his grip on the Master. Still, Sam didn't say what he wanted. He wasn't trying to be mysterious or important...well, maybe just a little important.
This man was almost embarrassingly tiresome. Scratch that. He was definitely embarrassing, and definitely tiresome. The Master counted exactly thirteen seconds of silence before he had had enough. He could not stand here facing his flawed double for hours while the Doctor was doubtless sniffing his insufferable way to his door right at this moment.
"Oh really." He wore an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Do I have to give you permission?"
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just want to make sure you know this is serious. Do I need to tell anyone about the Doctor? I mean warn them..." Sam paused and then spoke quickly, just thinking of something. "And what about his girlfriend?"
Oh, this was going to be so good. The Master dutifully looked serious, adding a smidge of frankness into the mix.
"If you're asking for advice, or further information, regarding the Doctor... I'm afraid I'm going to require a little information in return. Lines of trust need to run both ways."
Sam shrugged a little.
"I don't have anything that would interest you. I don't know anything." He shook his head a little. He felt nervous, like he'd just stepped into something he should have avoided.
The Master held Sam's gaze as best he could, although the man's agitation was manifest in his constant movement, making it difficult.
"Oh, I doubt that very much," he said softly. "I want to know what was said today in the pharmacy. It seemed like a lot of very important people were filing out of it earlier. Including Detective Abberline. And you."
Sam sighed and leaned against the wall. He folded his arms over his chest.
"Nothing that wasn't already public information. A vampire killed someone. We want to know who that someone was." He shrugged. "Nothing important happened, I was asked to ask around and see if anyone heard anything, or knew anything..."
The Master looked at him in a dismayed, sad way. A "See what you make me do?" sort of way.
"Oh, Sam. I know you're not telling me everything. This is so... disappointing. I wanted to give you the option of being honest with me, but if you insist on being so stubborn... I do have other means of procuring knowledge from you."
He didn't make a move towards Sam, but his expression made it clear that if he was refused again, it would be a regrettable mistake.
Sam immediatly pushed off the wall and held a hand up toward the Time Lord.
"I'm telling you the truth. It was discussed what we're supposed to do about this matter...but no one had any idea. So here I am, talking to you, instead of doing what I was sent to do. If the Doctor is that dangerous, then I need to tell someone about this."
He slowly relaxed his hand back down to his side.
The Master weighed things in his mind. He could unlock this one's mind, right now, but he knew that would break what little trust he had managed to gain. And having someone keep a mistrustful eye on the Doctor, for once, could be very, very rewarding in the long and short term.
But would he get this chance again, anytime soon, to find out what Abberline and the others were up to? He knew it was something that affected him, somehow, but that was the extent of it.
Yet to have an ally in this place, especially one aligned against the Doctor, seemed more urgent. He was far less worried about anyone else at the moment. And he could sense Sam wasn't keeping anything from him purposefully. The truth might out eventually all on its own.
The Master sighed, making up his mind. "Rose might be a problem," he admitted. "She is fiercely loyal to the Doctor, although she occasionally has moments of actual intelligence. That said, I would be careful whom you warn about the version of the Doctor who's been skulking around here for a while; he's probably accumulated a fair amount of ill-informed supporters. The Doctor who's more newly arrived, however-- you'd have a far easier time getting people to actually listen. But make no mistake-- the two may look and act slightly different but underneath they're the same."
It took Sam a few seconds to respond, going over everything in his head.
"You haven't actually told me anything. Why should I believe you? Everyone in this place hates you, and they're not even from the same time period. He was weird, I'll give you that." Sam took a couple beats. "He was really weird, and emotional...but if he were an ax murderer, I wouldn't have taken him home."
Sam realized the connotations of that last statement, and quickly tried to move past it.
"Look, there are things going on in this place that are a lot more important than some feud between aliens. I don't need to get in the middle of this. Unless you give me some reason to believe you, there's not much I can do."
Sam nodded, trying to reassure himself. But the seed had already been planted. He'd promised a meeting to the Doctor, and he was desperately rethinking it...or at least rethinking the discussion he'd be having with him.
The Master rolled his eyes as if he didn't honestly care what Sam thought. "Suit yourself. Obviously you take much greater stock in what others expect you to think than what is actually true. Human nature, I suppose." Although this could have been a concession if it had been spoken by one of Sam's own species, the Master looked a little disgusted, as if being human was a defect.
"But if you ever do want to know, you can always ask him. Ask him what happened to Gallifrey. Or Adric. Or... this might take him back a bit... Sara Kingdom." The Master smiled nastily.
"Fine." Sam said hastily. "I'll ask him. And then what? He's just going to admit to being a serial killer?" He shook his head. "I don't have time for this."
Sam wasn't quite sure why he said that...because really he had a lot of time. It's not like he had to be anywhere, or do anything.
The Master looked scandalized. "Who would ever just... come out and admit to that?"
"No one's stopping you leaving," he continued. "In fact, at least "one" is highly encouraging you." But instead of immediately clearing the way for Sam's hopeful exit, he thought a moment.
"Just one thing, one favor. You can do that much for me, I think."
"I don't owe you anything." He took a step forward, expecting the Master to move out of his way. He sighed when the Time Lord didn't.
"What? What do you want?"
Apprehension and maybe a little fear flitted across the Master's face. "Don't tell him where to find me."
Sam shook his head a little, trying not to sigh and roll his eyes again. "Why?"
"Because the last time he saw me I..." The Master cleared his throat, then looked Sam in the eye. "I died," he said plainly. "I was killed trying to escape him." He looked down for a few long seconds, then seemed to gather himself again and gave Sam a hospitably fake smile, stepping out of the way of the door.
"Well then. Off you go. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful."
Sam watched him, even after he moved out of the way. Then finally Sam nodded. "I won't tell him where you are....did he kill you?"
The Master closed his eyes, as if the subject hurt him too much to even continue discussing it. "Yes." Without hesitation. Because really, wasn't it true? Wasn't it? Wasn't the Doctor the reason everything seemed to happen?
He opened his eyes. "Thank you." In a way he was sincere, even if he had carefully manipulated Sam into this position. It was... refreshing to have someone here listen. Listen and maybe even believe, just a little. Just enough.
He reached out and put his hand on the other man's shoulder for a second.
"I'm sorry..." It wasn't nearly enough to say, but Sam didn't know what else to say. He gave a weak smile, feeling sick to his stomach. "He thought I was you....he thought I was you....so what, what was he doing hugging me like that?"
The Master shot a glance at Sam's hand, clearly wanting it off, and clearly relieved that it didn't stay very long.
"Remorse, perhaps. We were friends, once." His smile had vanished and he was staring off into the distance as if he was thinking of some old horror. "He was so fixated on keeping me with him. Didn't want me to leave."
"I know, I mean...that happened to me, too." Sam nodded, hoping that was enough explanation to him. "I mean, not in that way."
Sam started to fidget with his hands, tugging on the cuffs of his jacket. He said too much.
"I should probably..." he gestured with his head toward the exit.
The Master nodded, not meeting Sam's eyes. "Take care," he said quietly. Unlike Sam, he did not fidget-- but inwardly he was nearly dancing with impatience. Some of it gleeful, yes, but most of it preoccupied with his next move. He trusted Sam not to divulge his whereabouts, yes. The others? Not so much. And Doakes was a clear liability.
Sam nodded, but he didn't move away.
"We should probably talk about this another time." There was a short pause, and then a small smile. "I mean, if you want to."
The Master was very much not interested in becoming Sam's charity case, some sort of curious little pet for him to take care of-- but keeping in touch was part of the plan.
"Perhaps we should," he smiled in return. Hopefully it wasn't too wide.
Sam watched his face for a second and took a step toward the door. Sam turned back to the Master quickly, and held his hand out toward him.
"I'll see you around, then."
The Master hesitated, then grasped his hand lightly, like he wasn't sure what to do with it.
Sam shook his hand firmly. He turned back to the door and walked out. He made a quick glance around the flat before walking to the front door.
Somewhat sick of standing around and thoroughly disgusted with the kitsch of the flat's decor, Doakes had opted to step out of for the time being and was currently on the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing and typing into the Network on the red phone that had somehow become his.
Sam seemed to be able to handle things well enough, but he didn't want to go too terribly far... this Master character still seemed somewhat shady to him, though mostly just an annoyance.
He found his taste in decor rather suspicious, though.
Once Sam stepped out, he saw Doakes and just gave the man a cursory nod. Sam had a lot on his mind now, and he was pretty sure they weren't going to find anything out in the alley.
He walked toward the stairs and began descending them back down to the shop.
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