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English
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Classic Who Secret Santa 2019
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Published:
2019-12-20
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887
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1/1
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10
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26
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The Pike of Rassilon

Summary:

The Master looks for something important to him, and is blocked in his path by marauding agents of the Celestial Intervention Agency.

Work Text:

The Master skulked. This was nothing new, skulking was his default form of moving from place to place, but this skulking was even more exaggerated than normal. He moved, hunched over slightly, head tilted forward so anyone seeing him couldn’t really tell which direction he was looking, and walked slowly through the undergrowth, an irritated scowl adorning his face as he did. He skulked through the field, movement and expression and occasional growls of annoyance giving the distinct impression to any observers that the Master was in a bad mood. Which he was, partially because skulking through the undergrowth was tedious, and partially because he was embarrassed at having dropped his TARDIS key somewhere in the undergrowth that was tedious to skulk through, and he didn’t have any spare TARDIS keys on his person because he didn’t ever think he needed any, because he would never in any circumstances drop or lose his TARDIS key. Except today, which if anyone asked, he would say was someone else’s fault. It was not.

The Master continued to skulk through the undergrowth, looking for his key. He spotted a glint, something reflecting the sun that was hot enough that wearing his jacket was uncomfortable, but not hot enough that he could justify taking off his jacket and risking the humiliation of somebody seeing him without his jacket, a state of affairs not helping his already sour mood. A mood that was further soured by his discovery that the object reflecting the slightly too hot sun was not, in fact, the TARDIS key he had been searching for, but was instead only a stone that slightly smoother than the others he had encountered.

He stood back up and continued to skulk around, when he heard something. A slight noise, a rustling, behind him. Quickly forming a plan, he did not turn around, but continued to move forward, quietly, making sure he could hear what was behind him. More rustling behind him, just as quiet, but more frequent. Whatever was behind him didn’t think he knew it was there, he reasoned. It got closer, the rustling got louder, and just as it was at a perfect distance, too close to escape but too far away to strike, he turned as dramatically as possible, his usual style, and proclaimed:

“A-HA!”

The proclamation went out to an empty field. There was nobody behind him. The rustling must have simply been some animal or other creature not worth his attention. The Master sighed, disappointed that he had used up that dramatic turn on nobody, and decided to return to his skulking, but before he could turn back around to the direction he was walking in, he heard an annoyingly familiar voice behind him shout with excitement.

“Vibe check!”

The next thing the Master felt was being thwapped on the back of the head by something distressingly moist. He cried out in shock and anger, clutching at the back of his head to check for any bleeding. Returning his hand in front of his face, he discovered no blood, but a very unpleasant smell now lingering on his hand. He hoped that hadn’t attached itself to his jacket. He had a dignified reputation to uphold, after all. He turned again, hoping to catch the culprit, only to discover a slight warp in the space in front of him, the telltale sign of someone disappearing away using a Time Ring. He knew who the assailant was, however; he recognised that infernal voice. Shaking his head to clear away the shock of the vicious attack, he swore that he would enact revenge. As soon as he found his TARDIS key.

Ace materialised back on Gallifrey in the headquarters of the Celestial Intervention Agency laughing hard enough that she was struggling to breathe. Even the stern, unimpressed face of her boss, Coordinator Narvin, wasn’t enough to snap her to attention right away, so amused was she at her own joke.

“This is what you are doing?” Narvin demanded. Ace didn’t respond, as she was too busy laughing. “I allowed you access to technology far beyond your rank under the recommendation of Lady President Romana, and this is the first thing you do with it? The entirety of time and space at your disposal and under your protection, and the first thing you do is play a childish prank on a known and very dangerous renegade?”

“Oh, he didn’t know it was me!” Ace defended, unaware of the Master’s newfound vendetta against her to add to the list of the Master’s vendettas against Ace specifically. “Besides, what’s the point if you can’t have a laugh with it, right?”

Narvin opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and sighed. He hoped he was coming across as exasperated. He didn’t want Ace to suspect that her lack of punishment for this reckless action was because he also found it hilarious.

“As long as you are getting this immaturity out of your system, Trainee Ace.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ace said, flippant but honest. “I’ll start taking it seriously, promise.” To her credit, she did mean it.

Narvin nodded slightly and began to walk away, but turned back. “One more question, Ace.”

“Hmm?” Ace looked at him quizzically.

“Where did you get the fish?”

“Leela gave it to me.”

“Where did Leela get the fish?”