10; I am a scientist [I can live on science alone]

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[The Doctor hasn't been on the Plane in a while. Funny, though, whatever he's been up to has made him a bit happier than he was the last time he was here]

[And now, the Doctor is sitting with a chemistry set and a mottled-together computer, working on a few experiments]

[Please, feel free to interrupt him]

Comments

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[the sword hits just beneath the Master's ribcage, slipping under the Master's left heart and stopping as it meets the bone of the Master's back ribs]

[The Master doesn't move, only stares at the Doctor - inexplicably, he looks like he's just been betrayed. Then, breathing slowly, he puts his left hand over the Doctor's sword hand and pulls the blade out of his chest]

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[the Doctor looks positively horrified, the realization of what he'd done (or what he might've done, which could've been worse) hitting him. He releases his sword to the Master's grip]

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[Each word is spoken with deliberate meaning]

Well, that's settled, then. I win.

[he releases first the Doctor's sword, and then his own, letting them clatter on the ground one after the other]

I received a datapad. My mathematics notes from our ninety-second year.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Yeah, you win.

[lets himself settle backwards, wincing in pain as he does so]

I---

[rueful, this-is-going-to-sound-very stupid laugh]

Fell in love. Of all things.

[subject change]

Ninety-second year. Wasn't that advanced telebiogenical number retractions?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

[Sorry Doctor, no.]

Why would that be a secret?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Because anyone I care about is a target. [tone says: obviously]

How bad is---[gesture]---should I get, I don't know? Nanogenes or something?

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

That's not it. It's treachery, isn't it?

[He is still, but he is judging. He gets it, because it's always the simplest answer, and this answer puts everything together.]

Your love betrays me.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[ohshitohshit]

Everything I do betrays you.

[savagestime.livejournal.com]

Take care of your injuries.

[The Master disappears from the Plane]

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Master!

[swears under his breath, then falls back, trying to catch his breath]

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[have a clueless Handy walking along and -- wtf! -- rushes over]

Doctor?

[crouches down looking him over, concerned]

What happened?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[calmly]

Stomach injury, broken wrist, various bruising.

[breath]

The Master.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

[see his face, yeah, it just got sort of ohshit-ified]

The Master?

[takes a breath, his face still looking like he's seen a ghost or something but he tries to force it aside]

All right, the TARDIS then, get you to the TARDIS. You think you can stand up?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

I have to find Lucy, first.

[struggles to stand]

She doesn't know.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

You have to get yourself fixed up. You're not going to get far in the shape you're in.

[sighs and stands, offering the Doctor help getting up]

All right, how about this. Let me get you to the TARDIS. You fix yourself up and I can see if I can find her for you, yeah?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

If he knows, then he knows you knew. [leans heavily on his companion] He'll hurt you.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

And you're looking like you'll fair that much better. [drops from the Plane while supporting the Doctor, so they can get to the TARDIS] We're not completely merged yet, so I'm not going to be able to see the TARDIS until you open the door, so you're going to have to direct me.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

I need my sword. We have to go back.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

We need to get you to the TARDIS. I'll go back for it after we get you there.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[wants to argue, but gives it up]

North.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

Right.

[starts heading North, then notices a few concerned looks from strangers, before looking down at himself and seeing the Doctor's blood getting on him]

We're close by at least, I'm hoping.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

It's not far. Behind the little shop. I love a little shop.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

Little shops are good, except I'm not sure I'm where you are.

[spots a little shop and hopes the Doctor might possibly be in London still, from their last attempt at merging, and maybe they have identical little shops]

Over there?

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[looks up, squinting]

Yeah, it's there.

[handysparehand.livejournal.com]

All right, come on.

[stops behind the little shop]

You need to open the door.