realityshifted | (no subject)

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doctor who (d1) the master - ainley

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[because Koen told me to start this weekend: see this. otherwise, the Master is hanging out on the Plane, practicing his form with one of the daggers from his and Self's TOTALLY AWESOME FORTRESS OF DEATH]

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[see? the TARDIS gives him nice things sometimes. she's still hanging off him, though, humming loudly] I do not have a choice.

If this doesn't work, I have a means of avoiding people.

And what might that be?

The fortress.

And what is to keep the rest of us from entering? Do you honestly believe such a construct can keep me out?

Provided we keep our distance, you should find no reason to enter; others are barred from entering via locks.

And yet I am in your presence now. [nuzzles him, breathing deeply, then drags herself away] Make it stop, quickly. Please.

Then leave. [he hisses at her] I said don't rush me!

I cannot. I have tried. Why do you think I returned so quickly? [tightens her jaw] This is ... difficult. I do not like it.

[he continues working] You're not the only one.

[watches him] You need to add more; your equation is imbalanced.

[he snorts, but does as instructed. he did admit he doesn't know biochem as well as he ought]

[watches some more, growing more and more impatient and wondering why she isn't doing this herself, before finally just taking his hand in hers and guiding him] Like this, you fool.

[he bares his teeth at her] I know what I'm doing!

[this does not deter her! in fact, it only makes her want you more] Then prove it. Please.

[he growls and goes back to work] I said not to rush me. You are doing precisely that.

[nods, frowning, then just watches him, fidgeting and humming and all but hanging off him in her impatience and unnatural attraction]

[eventually he finishes up something and looks it over] Well then. We'll see how this works.

[nods eagerly] Use it, before I do something I will regret.

As if I'd let you when you're vocally expressing your disinterest. [and, for my own amusement, I'm saying it's an injection - so for now he removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeve to administer it]

Since when did my desires ever factor in? [watches, idly running a finger along his arm, tracing the line of muscle there]

If you can decline, vocally, I won't do anything. [and he jabs the needle in his arm] I do have some scruples.

And if I begin to [sneers the word] beg? What then? Would my previous protestations matter?

[she asks, of course, because she's still feeling up your arm, Master, her mouth hovering mere centimetres from your throat while she watches you administer the serum]

It depends. [he pulls it out once finished] Though in it's way, it'd be similar to hypnotising someone into consent - which is something I don't do.

[and he waits. if this doesn't work, he'll simply try something else]

And yet you know you are unable to hypnotise me.

[let's say it works a bit! enough she can pull away, at any rate] It seems to have taken the edge off the scent, at least. Is there anything else you can do to mitigate the effect?