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Lapidary	By : Savaialian Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 1563 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Doctor Who fandom, nor to I make money from writing about it. I use their creations with due respect.

Chapter List
- 1-Lapidary
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY-ONE
- 22-TWENTY-TWO
- 23-TWENTY-THREE
- 24-TWENTY-FOUR
- 25-EPILOGUE
- 20
- 21
- 22
“So, what did you do today?” The Master asked, walking up from the lawn like he always did, with purpose and energy. I was at the doors to the entrance hall, having dragged the dangerous plants outside for some real light and what looked to be a bit of rain.
“Aside from what you see, nothing much,” I answered, falling into step at his side. “Investigated the sluggish hot water and found the hot spring.”
“Oh?” The Master, sounding genuinely interested, handed his sword off to a waiting servant.
I took a moment to admire the cunning of this creature that stood before me. I’d seen a lot of kings and emperors, self-professed rulers and what have you. Most of them remained armed even at home. The Master pointedly did not usually put on his sword until on the brink of leaving, and took it off upon first coming home. It was a subtle show of trust that made his men extra alert. They knew he could kill with only the force of his mind, but that sword was more real to them. He displayed faith and they were determined to live up to it.
“Jack insisted I make it pretty,” I revealed, watching his eyes.
“I see.” The Master began walking for the dungeon access instead of his bedroom, stripping off his gloves as he went. “And where is the illustrious Captain Jack Harkness?”
“He’s off tonight. Said something about going into town.” I followed him to the main stairs and shadowed him down. “Also suggested I was neglecting you.”
“You are,” the Master agreed in a bantering tone. “It’s been days since I was ravaged by you.”
I smiled at the ease of his sense of play. Mean-spirited or sporting, the Master knew how to fool around and loved doing so. Had talent for it. “It’s hard to keep you in one place long enough,” I complained, perpetuating the tease. We were nearly at the end of the stairs now.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” he returned, sounding absolutely sincere. “I’ll take tomorrow off just for you,” he promised. He opened the access door and we entered the tunnel. “We can have a bit of a lie-in and you can ravish me all you want.” He conjured a flame in his hand so we could see.
We’d gone far past the point of eavesdropping.
“I won’t believe you unless you’re tied down,” I said.
Slightly ahead of me, the Master chuckled. “So, nothing’s changed,” he remarked, and those three words charged the air with something heavy and liquid. He acknowledged my play and gracefully pushed the past to the front for examination. “Well, I suppose I’ve tied you down often enough to warrant a bit of it myself.”
“And you call me a tease,” I murmured, slightly awed at how easily he’d turned our play into something both outrageously not a good idea and the most brilliant idea ever. A brilliant idea I couldn’t begin to seriously entertain. A brilliant idea that would surely mean an end to any avenue of escape from the Master. He’d be breathtaking in the speed and precision of my surrender, and once I belonged to him, that was that.
“Oh.” The Master looked in on the hot springs room, eyes appreciative. With a flick, he sent his flame out to dance in a wall sconce. It parted and leaped until all the sconces were lit, then crashed with abandon on the candle I’d brought down here. “You did make it pretty, Doctor,” he praised. “Well done. Utilitarian turned into art.” He knelt to take a good look at the dragon chain around the tub. “Very, very well done,” he praised me again, and warmly. “You even added a smoothing around where the water comes out, making this look hundreds of years old.”
“I thought it a shame to put up a new picket fence around an overgrown rose garden,” I said airily, but I loved the positive feedback. “Doesn’t the light reflect well?”
“It does. One can see a rainbow in all this black, even some silver veins.” The Master strolled around slowly, kicking his sandals into the entrance corner so he could feel the wet stone on his bare feet. “It’s very cool in here, but the water temperature will make that perfect.” He looked down at the bottle sitting on the table and gave a little frown, picking it up. “This is from my own vineyard, but about thirty years old,” he judged. Next, he eyed the glasses. “Well, you’ve certainly been thorough,” he said, smiling a little.
“Do you believe in coincidence?” I asked as I shed my jacket.
“No. Factors both known and unknown have a way of aligning whether we understand them or not,” the Master answered sensibly. He spied the bright blue bottle on the long bench and walked over to pick it up. “Why?” He asked absently, uncorking the thing for a sniff. His eyes closed and he shivered. “This is copal.”
“It’s what you already smell of,” I informed. “That’s why it seems nice to you.”
“Really? This is the way I smell to you?” He took another sniff before putting the cork back on. His eyes drifted over to mine. “You’re getting undressed,” he observed.
“So are you,” I said, not making it a request.
The Master’s eyebrows lifted in unison. “You’re getting a bit heavy-handed, my dear,” he warned softly.
“You’re not the only one who gets nostalgic,” I parried, carrying on.
The Master grinned at my answer, appreciating I could throw the weighty suggestion game right back at him. “So, you intend me to get into the water,” he surmised. “Why here, beautiful as it is, rather than my bathroom?”
“Because we’re never alone, ever,” I said, stripping off my shirt. “You have a guard within immediate call at all times. I never get to talk to you without listening ears.” I toed off my shoes and started on my trousers. “Even when we speak in our own language, our tone is noted.”
The Master nodded slowly and began removing his clothes, too. “Do you think, perhaps, that I’ll be different when it’s only the two of us?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I want to see.” I stood naked and waited for him to catch up with me. “I told everyone to leave us alone tonight. They reacted as I expected.”
Chuckling lightly, the Master made short work of his svond. “I can imagine,” he said dryly. “What further instructions do you have for me, then, my dear?”
“Get in the water and enjoy it,” I answered.
In short time we occupied the custom, yet raw, hot tub. The Master gave a huge sigh as he relaxed backward. “It’s hotter this close to the source,” he commented. “Just lovely.”
“How’s the seat?” I asked.
“Good,” he told me.
“I can’t have it just be ‘good’,” I complained, scooting closer. I put my hand on the rock and thought about letting the Master sink into it slightly. He jerked in surprise, but I held my hand up, which quickly stilled him. “I’m not trapping you in the rock,” I chastised. “I’m custom-fitting.”
“Carry on, then,” he agreed warily. When I finished he gave a little wriggle and grinned briefly. “Excellent. My own comfy chair in a hot tub. Stuff of brilliance, really.” He stretched his legs out and made his toes briefly surface, then relaxed again. “Why ask me about coincidence?”
“No special reason. It was just on my mind.” I’d been reading Water for Love off and on, and identified with the characters too much, actually, but I wasn’t telling him that.
The Master shifted, wincing a little. “I’m getting tired of being bent over planning tables,” he complained mildly.
“That’s why I brought the oil,” I explained. “I’m going to give you a massage as soon as you’re loosened up from the hot water.”
“I see,” he murmured, his voice low with appreciation and also a little suspicion. “What did I do to merit the extra attention?”
“You groan in your sleep when you shift; it’s a pretty obvious malady. When you’re awake you can keep the pain to yourself, but while sleeping…”
“Yes, my night-time world is nearly as exciting as yours,” he replied, putting his head back. “Else you’d have never learned Ailla’s name.”
“You can tell me whatever you want, you know,” I offered.
“Not really. I told you my plans once, and it ruined a very well thought out insurrection,” he replied, lazily swirling his arms in the water. “The defining point of our relationship, actually, was that I can’t trust you.”
“I only give the possibility to hurt me, once,” he’d said to me.
“You can’t give me another chance?” I asked softly.
“A chance at what?” The Master rolled his head to look at me with curious, pleasure-softened eyes. “Friendship?”
“I loved being your friend,” I confessed, feeling lighter for having said it out loud.
“You still are,” he said. “That should have been easy to see, Doctor; friendship is a complicated thing for Time Lords, and has more facets than the friendships you’ve acquired with humans. We hold our hurts and betrayals as numbers, while they nurture them close, hold them against their hearts as proof against risk.”
He was such a perceptive thing. Maybe I was judging our friendship on a human standard. I was always so caught up in my favorite species. My metacrisis version of me had amazing human naturalness, too. “I wasn’t looking at it that way,” I admitted.
“Of course you weren’t; you’re about the positive, the good and the joyful,” the Master said, his voice still very soft and gentle. “You think we stopped being friends because you decided I wasn’t acting like one. I, on the other hand, never quit.”
My left heart gave a squeeze, and I quit breathing.
“So, if you’re giving anyone a second chance, it’s yourself,” he continued on calmly. “Maybe this time you’ll take me down personally instead of ratting me out to someone. I tend to think so, actually; the years have made you into a very dangerous thing. You’re still benevolent, and you’re still self-sacrificing, but you’ve learned how to kill.” He sat up a little bit, eyeing me with startling intensity while I tried to remember how to breathe. “Your humans taught you that, didn’t they? The brigadier, maybe?”
My left heart shuddered on. “Several times,” I admitted.
“One of the few humans you collected that I had respect for,” the Master said, his eyes half shutting as he thought. “Oh, and that little Jo Grant. What nerve she had. I entertained quite a few carnal thoughts on her behalf.”
Surprised, I considered the interactions I’d had with him while Jo was my companion. “Didn’t make it clear,” I pointed out.
“Unlike you, I’m able to put aside lesser matters for favor of the largest one,” he chided. “You’ve always been the largest one, so you haven’t seen that, I suppose.”
I began to understand how his definition of friendship varied so much from mine, and that I’d been the unfaithful one, not him. To the Master, once you were his friend, he never gave you up. You’d still be his friend even while he shot you or put you six feet under soil. All these years he’d been serving me punishment for the offense of betrayal, but he hadn’t stopped considering us friends. The connection should have been obvious to me, too, for people don’t bother with revenge unless their emotions are still tied up in the person who hurt them.
He’d said I was all about running. I knew that was true, but another level of my cowardice had opened up. Yes, cowardice. He liked to call me one, and I’d always taken offense, because I was forever proving to myself I did have some sense of bravery. Yet, push me into any sort of obligation, any emotional commitment, and I ran like the devil. I’d severed ties with him on Gallifrey doing that very thing. I’d told the people in charge that he planned to take over the Prydonian Academy, and if I hadn’t, he would have succeeded. He almost had anyway. Then, I’d run far away from him.
The Master had chased me throughout time and space to serve me up some discipline, and I’d evaded, thwarted, foiled him over and over. Instead of discouraging him, he’d gotten progressively more hateful and determined. I should have known that would happen. A real friend would have taken his nature into more consideration, but no, my arrogance had neatly taken reason out of our equation. The more I resisted, the more he pursued.
I wasn’t resisting anymore.
He knew that, and that’s why he wasn’t punishing me now. Because now, with the guilt of Gallifrey and years of hardening, I needed penance. I’d stayed on Seldatia for a lot of reasons, but the idea of getting some soul-purging penalty from the Master had also enticed me. I’d thought to use him, on a level so deep I hadn’t realized it. The Master was letting me squirm in that desire to seek release, realizing it was the best option for getting some of his own back.
God. I was terrible.
“You’re crying,” the Master said softly, sounding surprised and also dismayed.
I put a hand up and felt wetness. The black paint was coming off, too. “Crying comes easier than it used to,” I whispered, my own voice so shaky and tremulous I barely recognized it. “You know how I wallow in things.”
“Well, yes, but what have you got to wallow in right now?” He asked. “You’ve been doing a lot of things here on Seldatia that ought to satisfy your do-gooding nature.” He spread his arms a little and lifted his eyebrows at me. “I’m even trying to do things your way for once. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“It counts for everything,” I protested, wiping my face hurriedly and trying to get some control back in myself. “Don’t pay me any mind; I’m just doing some moral house cleaning.”
“Ohh, that,” the Master said in the tone of one who totally understands. “I’d quit that if I were you. You don’t need any more standards to set for yourself, Doctor.”
“Standards that I’ve used for everyone except you?” I blurted before I could stop myself. Time to quit running. Finally.
The Master’s eyes widened slightly. “You really did want to talk away from listening ears, didn’t you?” He asked rhetorically. He sat up and turned his body toward mine, resting one arm on the dragon chain pool rim. “What’s wrong?”
I thought of how he’d taken care of me after my torture, then, how patient and gentle and kind he’d been, and wondered if that had only been the furthering of his goal. Take care of me kindly because deep down, I really wanted hurt. It made me frantic inside, and I put my hands up to my temples and pressed down hard. Madness for me to be so conflicted! I didn’t think I’d ever been so confused in my life. Did I really depend on him so much for correction? If I thought about how many times he’d been instrumental in putting me on a better path, it was staggering. Worse, the idea that he’d known all along how to guide me toward this moment.
I risked a look at him, and in his eyes I saw the proof of my thoughts. In those bottled-sherry eyes I recognized grim, grim approval. He held no pleasure for my lesson, just like a parent steps back and lets a child hurt himself to finally prove the truth of his warnings. Hadn’t he said exactly what I’d only come to understand?
“You allowed yourself to be hurt because you feel you deserve it. The guilt you carry over Gallifrey’s destruction is making you into even more of a masochist than you were previously. That’s what makes it easy for you to hand yourself over to me. You look at what I’ve done to you in the past and believe I’ll hurt you. You think you need to be hurt. And, this is where my real victory over you comes, Doctor. I have no intention of hurting you. I could do it with skill and finesse to satisfy even your sense of self-recrimination, but I won’t.”
There was nothing I could say. Normally that would only mean I’d talk more, but this time I was completely unable to summon even the most pointless, silence-filling noises. I slumped down in the water and stared at it, willing my eyes to quit burning. The Master said he loved me, and that it was none of my business. Well, he’d spoken truly, hadn’t he? If I made it my business, and he accepted that, he’d be wide open to another betrayal. He wouldn’t allow me that chance. He’d continue on with his apparently unshakable focus upon me, enjoy a renewed camaraderie, but no more.
The Master was grieving. Had been grieving. Thought he’d eternally grieve. That was why the Needle-Lights had spun him the garment, to lighten his soul.
“Do you ever wonder why it had to be us?” The Master asked me. “Did you ever consider the depth of our attachment and contrast it to the teaspoon-depth of feeling our people had?” He idly splashed water on his arms and rubbed a little, making me consider I’d forgotten soap. “Those bloodless bastards made it easy to flee, didn’t they? The thought of carrying our lives out on Gallifrey was horrible. Even as children we feared that.” He relaxed back down, apparently seeing I wasn’t about to erupt out of the hot spring in a spasm of guilt and terror. “We’ve always been similar in that. A few other ways, too. As you observed your first day here, we’re more alike than different.”
“And, where we differ, we’re polar opposites,” I muttered. Self disgust had a good hold on me now. “Why haven’t you pointed out where I’m lacking?”
The Master gave a short, bitter laugh. “Your flaws are comforting,” he said. “If I didn’t have those I’d be so afraid of you I couldn’t function in your presence, Doctor.”
“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me,” I protested, feeling fresh tears welling up.
“Doctor,” the Master repeated slowly and softly. “You’re the most frightening thing the cosmos ever spawned. You’re a mad god. You’re Loki. You’re Elegua, the faith healer, the fortune teller.”
“I’ve never wanted to hurt you,” I said, unable to look him in the eyes.
“I know. I’ve even used that about you.” The Master gave a short sigh. “And, I’ve admired it, too. You never lose your determination to treat me well.”
“You’re nothing to squander.” That truth fell out of me like a bomb.
“Neither are you. So, quit your wallowing.” The Master put his arms backward and hauled free of the water. “Now, I believe you promised to give me a back massage. I’m holding you to that.”
I made myself quit the stewpot and follow him to the stone bench. He got on his stomach and let his arms drape down both sides. I stared at that beautiful, darkly tanned back, that small and trim waist, and shivered. But, I got the oil bottle and managed to open it. “This should have been in the water with us,” I thought out loud. “It’ll be cold from this room.”
“I don’t care,” the Master drawled. “Your hands will warm it up soon enough.”
I thought of how much time he’d spent as a walking corpse, and how much pain he’d likely been in. As a hedonist, the Master joyfully sought pleasure. I poured the oil into my hands and warmed it with brisk friction before spreading my fingers over his shoulder blades.
At this first contact, the Master gave a little groan of enjoyment. “How nice to have someone’s touch, touch I can trust,” he murmured. “Always so reliable, Doctor; so very consistent.”
“Except when you needed it the most,” I replied, working to get the oil spread evenly. “Gallifrey and Sarn.”
“Twisting in one’s own traps is a lesson, and you deserve some recognition for having the stomach to allow it,” the Master told me, making my guts lurch. “Unfortunately, I never learned how to make better traps.”
“Never learned how or refused to make one that stopped us dead?” I asked.
The Master’s back rippled with sudden tension. He seemed to forcibly unwind, then. “I hate that you see through the subterfuge,” he confessed.
I swelled with wretchedness. All of our combined genius made for a disgusting display of ego and cruelty. I leaned down until my forehead rested between his shoulder blades and took a deep breath of copal, fighting for calm. “I don’t want this game anymore,” I whispered against his skin. “Why can’t it be as simple as togetherness?” I already knew the answer to that, though. I’d ruined the togetherness. I wouldn’t be able to do it over any differently, either, because he’d have killed so many more in the academy without my betrayal.
I straightened up and began working on him in earnest, determined to fill in the panic of my soul with physical activity. And so, I used every bit of my skill and gave all attention. In only a few minutes the Master was limp and completely unresisting. I massaged and kneaded on his back for more than an hour, getting out every last ball of tension and painful kink. He fell asleep, his handsome face positively radiant with pleasure and peace. And, I envied him.
**
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Lapidary