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Lost Boys	By : Turkaholic Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 3820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, any of its characters or trademarks. I make no money from the writing of this fanfiction

Chapter List
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Chapter 31
The Master looked at him, nonplussed.
"What?"
"My nose." Repeated the Doctor, an innocuous tone to his voice. "It's been itching for hours."
The change in tone seemed to have left the Master almost at a loss for words. He arched his eyebrows and leaned forwards over the rails.
"You must be joking."
The Doctor rested his head back against the surface behind him and looked thoughtfully out of the windows. He sighed. "Well… I dunno about you, Master, but I don't generally make jokes when I'm tied up. Tends to break the flow a bit." He tilted his head slightly towards the other Timelord, glancing at him through his now-dishevelled bangs of hair. "If you want to hear my best lines, try taking me to a party. I'm brilliant at parties."
Suspicion and irritation pulled at the Master's features, and yet the Doctor could see just a hint of curiosity behind it all. The change of tone had piqued the other Timelord's interest, as he'd hoped.
"Of course," he continued, his voice almost obnoxiously loud, "I don't suppose they have parties anymore do they? No music… no dancing… no falling in love. And it's not exactly like you and Lucy can cut loose up here, is it? Sometimes…" voice dropped into a mutter as he looked into the Master's steadily darkening face. He raised an eyebrow, "…I think you're just as much a prisoner up here as me."
The Doctor kept his face as close to neutral as he could, examining the effect the words had on the other Timelord carefully. He was treading dangerous ground, he knew that all too well, but being left in the dark to witness the aftermath of the Master's fury filled him with a dim sense of nausea. If he could keep the other Timelord interested there was a chance – as slim as it was – that the Master would change his mind.
The Master tapped his fingers impatiently against the rail as the words sank in. After a moment he snorted; a sardonic, malevolent smile spreading across his face.
"Is that it? Are you done? Or is there more pointless drivel you want to share?"
The Doctor took a deep breath. "Well, now that you mention it –"
"Goodbye, Doctor." The Master turned away. He slid his hand slowly along the rail as he descended the steps once more, the ring on his finger glinting as it passed out of the Doctor's sight.
The Doctor blew out a silent breath, trying to still the panic as it rose up inside him. Being left here overnight would give the Master too much pleasure; too much control. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, two whole months of constant mental barrage – of insanity, confusion, imprisonment and destruction – had taken a toll. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. Being abandoned in the dark could be the thing to push him over the edge. Whether the Master knew or cared, however, was another matter entirely.
"Okay, yes you could just leave me here." he blurted, "Wouldn't blame you: I've got a big gob, can't help it."
Once again, he heard the Master's footsteps fall into silence. There was a silence, and for a horrific moment the Doctor wasn't sure if the other Timelord had already left the room.
"…finally." Came the Master's voice, creeping through the still air. "He admits it."
In spite of himself, the sound of the Master's voice brought a weak smile of relief to his face. "You never asked."
Jack stood with his back to the expanse of darkness outside the windows, watching the two figures with a perplexed look. After everything he'd seen – the destruction of Japan, watching Tish and Francine broken – it had been painful, but it had at least made a horrific kind of sense. Watching the two Timelords interact in private, however, seemed to make no sense at all.
"So –" said the Doctor loudly, breaking the brief silence. He shuffled uncomfortably against the handcuffs. "Do I get my request then?"
The Master seemed to contemplate the idea for a moment. The Doctor could almost hear the internal struggle as the other Timelord tried to decide which option would give him most enjoyment.
"No."
"Oh come on…" urged the taller man, fully aware that this would probably be his last chance to stall the Master's exit. There was only one more card he had left to play. "One request? Surely the Lord and Master of the Earth could manage that?"
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Lost Boys