The Master (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
best_served_hot) wrote2010-09-05 03:44 pm
best_served_hot) wrote2010-09-05 03:44 pm
fic: for better or worse
A long day at the office, dealing with the upcoming elections and moving all of his pieces into place for checkmate was not what he had planned on doing with his day. None of these ridiculous humans could manage to do the simplest of menial tasks that he assigned them with any speed or attention to detail. He had hoped that he could simply make his way out of the office earlier and down to where he had safely hidden the Doctor's TARDIS, now trussed up in red as his glorious machine.
There were still tests to be done but he needed some suitable clothing and perhaps something to eat.
His entrance into the house he shared with his wife, Lucy, caused him to sniff in distaste. What was that smell? It seemed to be coming from the kitchen and he heard Lucy whispering what he supposed was a recipe to herself. His arrival seemed to have gone mostly unnoticed and he hoped it would stay that way. The Master made an attempt at a stealthy dash to the stairs.
"Harry? Are you home?"
Damn.
He stepped back from the stairs and then down the hall to the kitchen. It was with forced nonchalance that he leaned against the doorway and with all the self control he possessed that he did not burst into a fit of laughter at the state of the kitchen and that of his wife.
"Having an adventure, dearest?"
Lucy startled slightly, flour high on one cheek and also in spots along her outfit that he saw as she turned to him. "I was going to make your favorite. It didn't go as smoothly as I expected." Though the Master had already guessed as much by the charred something that was on the stove, starting to smoke, even though the heat had been turned off.
Pushing off of his perch in the doorway, he moved over to her and gently took her shoulders to steer her away from the stove. It wouldn't do for her to end up on fire whilst trying to make dinner. "You could have asked one of the staff for help."
"I can make a simple dinner on my own, Harry," she stated, chin tilted in defiance against the preposterous idea that she could not, in fact, cook.
He smiled magnanimously and then the pot caught on fire, only to be easily doused by himself. She looked as though she would cry, for a moment, and then reminded herself that she was better than that. If it had caught on fire, it hadn't been her doing, the appliances were simply faulty.
"I'll have to call the manufacturer about their appliances, clearly they are not up to standard," she said, because clearly it was not her fault at all. The Master allowed her little fantasy with a smile, pleased moreover that he had dodged a proverbial bullet.
"Clearly. Shall we order in tonight?"
prompt: lucy in the kitchen, oh dear.
words: 505
There were still tests to be done but he needed some suitable clothing and perhaps something to eat.
His entrance into the house he shared with his wife, Lucy, caused him to sniff in distaste. What was that smell? It seemed to be coming from the kitchen and he heard Lucy whispering what he supposed was a recipe to herself. His arrival seemed to have gone mostly unnoticed and he hoped it would stay that way. The Master made an attempt at a stealthy dash to the stairs.
"Harry? Are you home?"
Damn.
He stepped back from the stairs and then down the hall to the kitchen. It was with forced nonchalance that he leaned against the doorway and with all the self control he possessed that he did not burst into a fit of laughter at the state of the kitchen and that of his wife.
"Having an adventure, dearest?"
Lucy startled slightly, flour high on one cheek and also in spots along her outfit that he saw as she turned to him. "I was going to make your favorite. It didn't go as smoothly as I expected." Though the Master had already guessed as much by the charred something that was on the stove, starting to smoke, even though the heat had been turned off.
Pushing off of his perch in the doorway, he moved over to her and gently took her shoulders to steer her away from the stove. It wouldn't do for her to end up on fire whilst trying to make dinner. "You could have asked one of the staff for help."
"I can make a simple dinner on my own, Harry," she stated, chin tilted in defiance against the preposterous idea that she could not, in fact, cook.
He smiled magnanimously and then the pot caught on fire, only to be easily doused by himself. She looked as though she would cry, for a moment, and then reminded herself that she was better than that. If it had caught on fire, it hadn't been her doing, the appliances were simply faulty.
"I'll have to call the manufacturer about their appliances, clearly they are not up to standard," she said, because clearly it was not her fault at all. The Master allowed her little fantasy with a smile, pleased moreover that he had dodged a proverbial bullet.
"Clearly. Shall we order in tonight?"
prompt: lucy in the kitchen, oh dear.
words: 505