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[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[he takes a step forward then backwards then forwards again, looking at the space above him and around him, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tries to take in what he's seeing.]

What is this?  Wha-

[he stops as he notices what's below him as well.  he kneels down, touching and studying the universe below his feet]

That's just brilliant.  That's just absolutely unbelievably brilliant.  The stars, galaxies, nebulas all right at my feet.  It's gorgeous.  Gorgeous and impossible.

[pauses for a moment and then he shoots back up to his feet, spinning around again]

Hello.  Is there anyone there?  Anyone?  Anyone at all?

Comments

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[slides his hand across to the Doctor's neck]

Why?

[the soft word brings their mouths closer together]

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[He shivers unintentionally from the touch]

I wasn't Him.

[He can feel his breath now. A voice is shouting in his head, and he wishes it would shut up. He looks into the Master's eyes again, and it seems to go away. Everything feels okay when he looks into his eyes]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[the softest of kisses against his lips, and the words--]

No, you're not.

[he breaks the spell and takes two steps back, grinning with such malice as betrays his claim of disinterest]

You're not and you never will be. Sorry, John Smith. Because you're not John Smith. You're not the Doctor pretending to be a human. You're a human pretending to be the Doctor, and, quite frankly, I'm not interested. Sorry about that, my handy-hand friend. Though maybe if you beg really nicely I'll consider it.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[He looks up in shock, unsure of what just happened, searching for his eyes again.]

What?

[He moves away, and his eyes are still morphing, changing. And there's that smile, and his head aches, his body aches, he feels sick in his chest. Sick and stupid. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have the energy to argue or say anything. He feels drained and tired and sick.]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

You look unwell. Poor thing. Maybe you should take a nap? I hear it helps humans.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[He tries to straighten his back, force himself to stand up straight again, but his body betrays him. He hates his body. He hates the knot in his stomach. He hates how much he wished he had said something else. Something that didn't end with him standing here. He tells himself he's being an idiot. He was hypnotized. But it felt nice, losing control. Now he just felt sick. Despite himself he looks at the Master again, but still has no words.]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

I love it when I can get you to shut up.

[this time, he takes two hard steps in and grabs the Doctor's shirt]

Go on, Handy-hand. Run away.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[He stands a little taller as the Master grabs him. He stares down at the Master's hands, wishing he would let go, but not having the energy to fight.]

Why do you even care?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

I was hoping for a bit more fight, actually, but it seems you can't even manage that.

[shoves him away]

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[He stumbles with the shove, but straightens himself up. Finds his posture again. He stays where he's standing, not moving towards the Master. Merely standing and watching.]

Why would I want to, what's the point?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

None, apparently. No point at all.

I hope you manage to be a bit more engaging next time we meet, John.

[and the Master disappears]