The Master (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
best_served_hot) wrote2010-07-03 12:53 am
best_served_hot) wrote2010-07-03 12:53 am
fic: filling up spaces
"Are you just going to sit there all day?" started Jack with a huff. "I unlocked the computer and you're still doing absolutely nothing."
The Master didn't budge from where he sat, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm waiting on my tea."
Jack's patience was beginning to wear very, very thin. "You're not going to get anything if you keep this up," he said, trying to sound as firm as he could without losing his temper. "You said you were on to something last night before bed, so how about you start there?"
"Tea, first."
"We don't have tea," he said through partially gritted teeth. "Coffee, what about coffee?"
The Master resisted every inclination to attack the Freak and murder him horribly. He was quite grumpy without his tea but it was more than that. He narrowed his eyes on Jack sharply. "Would you be offering coffee to the Doctor?"
Jack forced a tight smile. "Lucky me, you're not him. I might be actively looking for a permanent way to die if it were the case."
He stood sharply at that and crowded him. "I would be overjoyed to help you with that search."
Jack didn't back off. "Alright. Fine. I'll get myself coffee and I'll get you a tea," said Jack, offering the proverbial olive branch. "While I'm gone will you get back to what we've been trying to do for months?"
The Master seemed appeased by this. "Yes."
Jack moved away to grab his coat, slipping it on as the Master looked on. "I'll be back in thirty minutes, if I'm not, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to get out of here."
Leaving the Master here alone unnerved him terribly but he couldn't exactly take him out in the public eye, it was dangerous enough for him to leave his own self.
"I'll be sure to clear the place up a bit before I make my exit, dear."
Jack rolled his eyes and headed out the door, only for the Master to call after him from the open door.
"Milk and two sugars, Freak!" he shouted, slamming the door.
"You'll get what I give you!" he snapped without a backward glance.
- - -
It was all the Master could do not to spit out the tea once he took the cup from Jack while they waited for the transport to land.
"What is that?"
"It's tea."
"That's not tea, it's colored water."
Jack decided to ignore that quip and sipped at his coffee after sitting on the small seat next to him. He immediately grimaced and set it away.
The Master, still disillusioned by the lack of decent tea, didn't bother to offer any smug or snide remarks.
"We really must do something about this."
For once, they both agreed on something.
- - -
They finally manage to procure their own means of transport by unscrupulous means and were well on their way with their latest lead. Still no Doctor. Still no TARDIS. The days are getting longer or at least they feel that way. For once, in a very long time, the Master felt impossibly old.
Jack is getting tired, he sees it in the news that nothing has changed and no one has any fresh leads. Just ghost whispers on the winds of time and a story someone heard a long time ago. He sees it when he's slumped over the console, having been tracking anomalies and glitches for hours, asleep.
He's started leaving cups of coffee just out of danger of being spilled over before retreating to one of the two sparse rooms on the ship and trying to rest himself.
The next morning he finds a cup of hot tea waiting on the table in the kitchen.
Neither of them thank the other or think to mention it.
Why would they?
- - -
The first few attempts are terrible to say the least but simple questions lead to learning and finding out just how the other would like things without either of them needing to acknowledge that this might be becoming more than an enmity between them. That they might actually have begun to depend on the other in the spaces the Doctor used to occupy for them both. More cups of tea for the Master and cups of coffee for Jack.
Soon they no longer need words and neither of them complain about the menial task of cleaning up the kitchen or stopping for supplies at a space station or planetary market as they search out more information.
By the time they get their first new lead in six months, Jack doesn't look quite so tired and the Master doesn't feel quite so old but it doesn't last.
That lead ends in screams and blood and the Master dragging Jack's corpse out of a orbital station with failing engines and a decaying orbit that will come in so steep it will simply burn up.
Jack doesn't thank the Master for saving him but then he doesn't need to anymore. Besides, the Master would only ignore it because that's all either of them ever do and they are quite good at it.
Things will change when they find the Doctor and they can go back to hating each other.
What else would they do?
- - -
Neither of them age, except in the eyes or the way years hang on them both. Weary is the word and that is what they both have become. Neither of them say what each of them are thinking.
He's gone.
But if they say that then they would also have to return to what they were before, wouldn't they?
Neither of them say anything but the cups are collecting dust in the cupboards.
- - -
Jack is relieved, he looks young again when they finally find the Doctor but he can still see the ghost of how he was. Jack understood waiting for the Doctor more acutely than any other companion could. He is the closest to the Master in that respect. They both have waited.
So why does he still feel old?
The next morning when Jack goes into the kitchen there is a cup, the one with the chip that survived a crash they had both been lucky to get out of, full of warm, perfectly made coffee on the table.
The Master is nowhere to be found.
prompt: none
words: 1103
The Master didn't budge from where he sat, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm waiting on my tea."
Jack's patience was beginning to wear very, very thin. "You're not going to get anything if you keep this up," he said, trying to sound as firm as he could without losing his temper. "You said you were on to something last night before bed, so how about you start there?"
"Tea, first."
"We don't have tea," he said through partially gritted teeth. "Coffee, what about coffee?"
The Master resisted every inclination to attack the Freak and murder him horribly. He was quite grumpy without his tea but it was more than that. He narrowed his eyes on Jack sharply. "Would you be offering coffee to the Doctor?"
Jack forced a tight smile. "Lucky me, you're not him. I might be actively looking for a permanent way to die if it were the case."
He stood sharply at that and crowded him. "I would be overjoyed to help you with that search."
Jack didn't back off. "Alright. Fine. I'll get myself coffee and I'll get you a tea," said Jack, offering the proverbial olive branch. "While I'm gone will you get back to what we've been trying to do for months?"
The Master seemed appeased by this. "Yes."
Jack moved away to grab his coat, slipping it on as the Master looked on. "I'll be back in thirty minutes, if I'm not, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to get out of here."
Leaving the Master here alone unnerved him terribly but he couldn't exactly take him out in the public eye, it was dangerous enough for him to leave his own self.
"I'll be sure to clear the place up a bit before I make my exit, dear."
Jack rolled his eyes and headed out the door, only for the Master to call after him from the open door.
"Milk and two sugars, Freak!" he shouted, slamming the door.
"You'll get what I give you!" he snapped without a backward glance.
- - -
It was all the Master could do not to spit out the tea once he took the cup from Jack while they waited for the transport to land.
"What is that?"
"It's tea."
"That's not tea, it's colored water."
Jack decided to ignore that quip and sipped at his coffee after sitting on the small seat next to him. He immediately grimaced and set it away.
The Master, still disillusioned by the lack of decent tea, didn't bother to offer any smug or snide remarks.
"We really must do something about this."
For once, they both agreed on something.
- - -
They finally manage to procure their own means of transport by unscrupulous means and were well on their way with their latest lead. Still no Doctor. Still no TARDIS. The days are getting longer or at least they feel that way. For once, in a very long time, the Master felt impossibly old.
Jack is getting tired, he sees it in the news that nothing has changed and no one has any fresh leads. Just ghost whispers on the winds of time and a story someone heard a long time ago. He sees it when he's slumped over the console, having been tracking anomalies and glitches for hours, asleep.
He's started leaving cups of coffee just out of danger of being spilled over before retreating to one of the two sparse rooms on the ship and trying to rest himself.
The next morning he finds a cup of hot tea waiting on the table in the kitchen.
Neither of them thank the other or think to mention it.
Why would they?
- - -
The first few attempts are terrible to say the least but simple questions lead to learning and finding out just how the other would like things without either of them needing to acknowledge that this might be becoming more than an enmity between them. That they might actually have begun to depend on the other in the spaces the Doctor used to occupy for them both. More cups of tea for the Master and cups of coffee for Jack.
Soon they no longer need words and neither of them complain about the menial task of cleaning up the kitchen or stopping for supplies at a space station or planetary market as they search out more information.
By the time they get their first new lead in six months, Jack doesn't look quite so tired and the Master doesn't feel quite so old but it doesn't last.
That lead ends in screams and blood and the Master dragging Jack's corpse out of a orbital station with failing engines and a decaying orbit that will come in so steep it will simply burn up.
Jack doesn't thank the Master for saving him but then he doesn't need to anymore. Besides, the Master would only ignore it because that's all either of them ever do and they are quite good at it.
Things will change when they find the Doctor and they can go back to hating each other.
What else would they do?
- - -
Neither of them age, except in the eyes or the way years hang on them both. Weary is the word and that is what they both have become. Neither of them say what each of them are thinking.
He's gone.
But if they say that then they would also have to return to what they were before, wouldn't they?
Neither of them say anything but the cups are collecting dust in the cupboards.
- - -
Jack is relieved, he looks young again when they finally find the Doctor but he can still see the ghost of how he was. Jack understood waiting for the Doctor more acutely than any other companion could. He is the closest to the Master in that respect. They both have waited.
So why does he still feel old?
The next morning when Jack goes into the kitchen there is a cup, the one with the chip that survived a crash they had both been lucky to get out of, full of warm, perfectly made coffee on the table.
The Master is nowhere to be found.
prompt: none
words: 1103