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magicallawTitle: Be Careful What You Wish For (2/2)
Author: Madge
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Master, Ten/Romana (ish)
Disclaimer: I own a Ten and Simm!Master doll, but that's about it. There's no way I could ever claim ownership of Romana for she is way out of my league.
Author's Note: See Part One.
The sun was shining through the stained glass windows. Dew drops glistened on the flower petals that surrounded the church. The Master smiled as he fiddled slightly with his button hole; it was a truly beautiful setting, he thought.
They weren’t on Earth, of course. They had to find a planet where Time Lords were registered as either not being made up, or, you know, still alive, in order for the Doctor and Romana to be legally married. Vegasanty fitted the bill nicely. The Doctor wasn’t too happy about not being on Earth as he thought it would be nice for some of his friends to be there. Martha, he thought, would look lovely in a bridesmaid dress. Donna, on the other hand, probably wasn’t too keen on weddings. He soon forgot about his missing guests when Romana began walking up the aisle. She was looking more beautiful than ever, the Doctor thought. If you’d asked him right now, he would have told you that this is the happiest he had been in years and years. Yes, he was even happier than when Rose made his dippy egg and soldiers for him. Of course, the Doctor’s happiness was clear to everyone. His smile went from ear to ear. In fact, everyone was smiling today; the Doctor, Romana, even the Master. The Master was smiling because they were approaching his favourite part. He looked up at the altar and waited for the green alien dressed as Elvis to do his thing.
“If there are any beings here who know of any reason why these two people – ”
“Time Lords,” Romana interrupted.
“ – Time Lords should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or – ”
“Sorry,” the Master said as he stood up, “I can’t contain this anymore. Me! Here! I have a reason why these two shouldn’t tie the knot. Oh, and believe me, there is no way I plan on forever holding my peace so I might as well stop you there.”
Now this was unexpected. Well, it was to the Doctor in any case, who had bought every line that the Master had spun him about how well suited they were and how cute their children would be. You’d think he’d have known by now that truth and the Master didn’t go hand in hand.
“Master, I am fully aware that you do not approve of me, nor have you ever done. I just don’t think now is the time or place – ” said Romana, unimpressed at the Master’s timing.
“Oh, my former President, believe me, you will want to hear this. So, who should tell her my precious little Doctor?” He pinched the Doctor’s cheeks as he spoke. “Hmm?” The little slap was probably pushing it, but the Master would maintain that it was purely playful. “Oh, you’re going to do that thing where you just say ‘what?’ over and over again, aren’t you? Catchphrases are so last century, Doctor. So, do you want me to deliver the happy news? Very well then. The reason that this marriage cannot continue is because, well,” he chuckled, “the Groom is already married. To me.”
“What? What? What?”
“And there it is.” The Master brandished a rather worn piece of paper from his top pocket. “It’s all here, Doctor, in black and white.”
“You’re making this up.” The Doctor didn’t sound too convinced.
“I, Theta Sigma,” the Master began, “hereby declare that if, by the age of 900 years, I have no significant other to speak of, I will take my best friend, Koschei, as my lawfully wedded husband.”
“Ah, yes, OK, well maybe I forgot about that.”
“Doctor?” Romana was looking more than a little concerned.
“It’s fine, Romana. Really, it’s fine. No problem. It’ll all be fine.”
“Yes but, how old are you, exactly?”
“Nine hundred and three,” the Doctor mumbled.
“You’re going to have to try that again in a language I actually understand.”
“Nine hundred and three,” the Doctor’s annoyed tone was now matching Romana’s. “But it doesn’t mean anything, Romana. We were at the Academy. I was young and more than likely inebriated. That... that thing isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. You and I,” he pointed at the Master, “will talk about this later.”
“Not before we have a conversation about your sexual preferences, Doctor. Now, where were we?” Romana turned round to face the minister again, only to be greeted by the Master who had skidded round to stand between the happy couple and the somewhat dumbfounded Elvis-wannabe.
“Problem is, Romana, the Doctor has a point. About the paper I mean. You see, it is worth the paper it’s printed on. Well, to me anyway. This,” he waved the valuable piece of paper in the Doctor’s face, “isn’t printed on ordinary paper.”
“Master – ”
“I was always was more prolific at the Academy than you, Doctor, wasn’t I? Well, whilst you were busy experimenting with your hair...” The Master stopped to stare at this current incarnations mop, scrutinizing it. “... Still haven’t found the right style, have you? Heh. Anyway. Whilst you were doing whatever it was you were doing, I was discovering the more advanced properties of psychic paper. I don’t suppose you’ve ever used it as anything other than that glorified Oyster card that you carry around with you.”
“I do not use it as an Oyster card,” said the Doctor, defiantly.
“So last week when you used it on the number 79 bus, you were doing what exactly?” The Master caught sight of the Doctor’s face which was looking rather sheepish. “Yes, I thought as much.”
“Right, I get it, Master. You were better than me at the Academy. Any chance you could change the record, it gets a bit boring after the first Five. Hundred. Years.”
“Missing the point, again, Doctor.” the Master sing-songed. “You see this is psychic paper; and when I say psychic I mean psychic. It took the bio-data from when we both touched it, and, well... This document is now legally binding in four galaxies.”
“What? Give that here.” The Doctor snatched the paper from the Master and studied it briefly. “You expect me to believe this?”
“Hmm? That? Oh, heavens no. This, on the other hand,” and he reached in to his pocket for yet another piece of paper, “this, you will want to take a look at.”
The Doctor took the piece of paper that the Master offered him. He looked down at what he was holding and stared in it in disbelief. He was holding a marriage certificate. A marriage certificate detailing his and the Master’s union, no less.
“Ah,” was all the Doctor could say.
“Three years we’ve been married now. You know, a bunch of flowers would be nice once in a while,” the Master tutted. “Romana, I think I’ve done you a favour.”
“We can get an annulment, can’t we?” asked the Doctor.
The Master thought about this for a moment. “No.”
“No? What do you mean no?”
“I want you to look after me.”
“What, so you want to come and live with me in the TARDIS? I find that hard to believe.” The Doctor snorted.
“900 years is a long time to spend running, Doctor. You said so yourself. I deserve a little R&R, and who better to have looking after me than a doctor. Besides, I think you’ll make a fantastic wife.”
“I am no one’s wife.”
“The apron and the washing up gloves in the TARDIS kitchen beg to differ.”
“Those? Those aren’t – ” They were his, really. “They were a gift,” he admitted.
“That’s not important now.” The Master walked over to the Doctor and embraced him tightly. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, please.”
“Erm, might I interrupt?” Romana stood from the seat she had taken to watch this little scene unravel.
“Yes, yes, you might, Romana.” The Doctor pulled free of the Master and walked across to where Romana stood, putting his arm around her. “You see? We’re getting married. Me and Romana. And nothing you can say or do can stop it.”
“Oh, I think not.”
The Doctor ignored the Master’s triumphant grin and faced what appeared to be his no longer future bride. “But you said... You promised. You said you would take me even with all of my baggage.”
“I was referring to the odd Inter-Galactical delegate that you may have annoyed slightly – and when I say slightly, I mean rather a lot. I was not referring to him.”
“He’s not my baggage. He’s... he’s...”
“...”
“... My responsibility,” he said to himself. He remembered saying the exact same words on the Valiant, and he remembered how distraught he was when the Master took this opportunity away from him. Now he had given it back. Yup, thought the Doctor, that old proverb about being careful what you wished for really was true.
Romana spotted the Master trying to catch one of the ceremonial doves (the Doctor really was an emotional sap when it came to weddings), no doubt for torture purposes. “Looks to me as though you have your work cut out, Doctor.”
“Please marry me? The future of the planet’s at stake,” begged the Doctor.
“And what planet would that be, Doctor?” Romana asked.
“Oh, he hasn’t shared his, somewhat ambitious, desires to rebuild Gallifrey?” the Master interrupted.
“But that’s preposterous,” said Romana.
“Oh, Doctor. Don’t tell me you haven’t been sharing your inner-most thoughts with your beloved. I bet right now you’re thinking about us, a little family of three, building our brand new home. Well, I’ve got news for you, Romana: two’s company, and... Oh, you know the rest. So go on, off you trot, back to E-Space or wherever.”
“Hang on,” he said to the Master, “you had the same idea as me. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“Yes, well, I changed my mind. Got to keep you on your toes, you know? Even though we’re married, Doctor, I don’t want you getting too comfortable.”
Romana was halfway down the aisle before the Doctor went after her, leaving the Master at the altar. “He’s right, Doctor. You brought me back, and I am eternally grateful. But I didn’t sign up for this. I want to explore, surely you of all people can understand that.”
If the Doctor had spoke straight away, if he hadn’t thought about it for too long, she might have stayed. More importantly, if his eyes hadn’t lingered for a little too long on the Master, with that slightly glazed over look to them, Romana would have still been there when he turned back to face her.
He watched the empty doorway and knew, in his heart of hearts, that she would be back. Third time’s a charm, and all that.
“You better not snore.”
Unfortunately for the Master, the Doctor did snore. But the Master hogged the duvet, so it was all fair in the end.
The End
Author: Madge
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Master, Ten/Romana (ish)
Disclaimer: I own a Ten and Simm!Master doll, but that's about it. There's no way I could ever claim ownership of Romana for she is way out of my league.
Author's Note: See Part One.
The sun was shining through the stained glass windows. Dew drops glistened on the flower petals that surrounded the church. The Master smiled as he fiddled slightly with his button hole; it was a truly beautiful setting, he thought.
They weren’t on Earth, of course. They had to find a planet where Time Lords were registered as either not being made up, or, you know, still alive, in order for the Doctor and Romana to be legally married. Vegasanty fitted the bill nicely. The Doctor wasn’t too happy about not being on Earth as he thought it would be nice for some of his friends to be there. Martha, he thought, would look lovely in a bridesmaid dress. Donna, on the other hand, probably wasn’t too keen on weddings. He soon forgot about his missing guests when Romana began walking up the aisle. She was looking more beautiful than ever, the Doctor thought. If you’d asked him right now, he would have told you that this is the happiest he had been in years and years. Yes, he was even happier than when Rose made his dippy egg and soldiers for him. Of course, the Doctor’s happiness was clear to everyone. His smile went from ear to ear. In fact, everyone was smiling today; the Doctor, Romana, even the Master. The Master was smiling because they were approaching his favourite part. He looked up at the altar and waited for the green alien dressed as Elvis to do his thing.
“If there are any beings here who know of any reason why these two people – ”
“Time Lords,” Romana interrupted.
“ – Time Lords should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or – ”
“Sorry,” the Master said as he stood up, “I can’t contain this anymore. Me! Here! I have a reason why these two shouldn’t tie the knot. Oh, and believe me, there is no way I plan on forever holding my peace so I might as well stop you there.”
Now this was unexpected. Well, it was to the Doctor in any case, who had bought every line that the Master had spun him about how well suited they were and how cute their children would be. You’d think he’d have known by now that truth and the Master didn’t go hand in hand.
“Master, I am fully aware that you do not approve of me, nor have you ever done. I just don’t think now is the time or place – ” said Romana, unimpressed at the Master’s timing.
“Oh, my former President, believe me, you will want to hear this. So, who should tell her my precious little Doctor?” He pinched the Doctor’s cheeks as he spoke. “Hmm?” The little slap was probably pushing it, but the Master would maintain that it was purely playful. “Oh, you’re going to do that thing where you just say ‘what?’ over and over again, aren’t you? Catchphrases are so last century, Doctor. So, do you want me to deliver the happy news? Very well then. The reason that this marriage cannot continue is because, well,” he chuckled, “the Groom is already married. To me.”
“What? What? What?”
“And there it is.” The Master brandished a rather worn piece of paper from his top pocket. “It’s all here, Doctor, in black and white.”
“You’re making this up.” The Doctor didn’t sound too convinced.
“I, Theta Sigma,” the Master began, “hereby declare that if, by the age of 900 years, I have no significant other to speak of, I will take my best friend, Koschei, as my lawfully wedded husband.”
“Ah, yes, OK, well maybe I forgot about that.”
“Doctor?” Romana was looking more than a little concerned.
“It’s fine, Romana. Really, it’s fine. No problem. It’ll all be fine.”
“Yes but, how old are you, exactly?”
“Nine hundred and three,” the Doctor mumbled.
“You’re going to have to try that again in a language I actually understand.”
“Nine hundred and three,” the Doctor’s annoyed tone was now matching Romana’s. “But it doesn’t mean anything, Romana. We were at the Academy. I was young and more than likely inebriated. That... that thing isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. You and I,” he pointed at the Master, “will talk about this later.”
“Not before we have a conversation about your sexual preferences, Doctor. Now, where were we?” Romana turned round to face the minister again, only to be greeted by the Master who had skidded round to stand between the happy couple and the somewhat dumbfounded Elvis-wannabe.
“Problem is, Romana, the Doctor has a point. About the paper I mean. You see, it is worth the paper it’s printed on. Well, to me anyway. This,” he waved the valuable piece of paper in the Doctor’s face, “isn’t printed on ordinary paper.”
“Master – ”
“I was always was more prolific at the Academy than you, Doctor, wasn’t I? Well, whilst you were busy experimenting with your hair...” The Master stopped to stare at this current incarnations mop, scrutinizing it. “... Still haven’t found the right style, have you? Heh. Anyway. Whilst you were doing whatever it was you were doing, I was discovering the more advanced properties of psychic paper. I don’t suppose you’ve ever used it as anything other than that glorified Oyster card that you carry around with you.”
“I do not use it as an Oyster card,” said the Doctor, defiantly.
“So last week when you used it on the number 79 bus, you were doing what exactly?” The Master caught sight of the Doctor’s face which was looking rather sheepish. “Yes, I thought as much.”
“Right, I get it, Master. You were better than me at the Academy. Any chance you could change the record, it gets a bit boring after the first Five. Hundred. Years.”
“Missing the point, again, Doctor.” the Master sing-songed. “You see this is psychic paper; and when I say psychic I mean psychic. It took the bio-data from when we both touched it, and, well... This document is now legally binding in four galaxies.”
“What? Give that here.” The Doctor snatched the paper from the Master and studied it briefly. “You expect me to believe this?”
“Hmm? That? Oh, heavens no. This, on the other hand,” and he reached in to his pocket for yet another piece of paper, “this, you will want to take a look at.”
The Doctor took the piece of paper that the Master offered him. He looked down at what he was holding and stared in it in disbelief. He was holding a marriage certificate. A marriage certificate detailing his and the Master’s union, no less.
“Ah,” was all the Doctor could say.
“Three years we’ve been married now. You know, a bunch of flowers would be nice once in a while,” the Master tutted. “Romana, I think I’ve done you a favour.”
“We can get an annulment, can’t we?” asked the Doctor.
The Master thought about this for a moment. “No.”
“No? What do you mean no?”
“I want you to look after me.”
“What, so you want to come and live with me in the TARDIS? I find that hard to believe.” The Doctor snorted.
“900 years is a long time to spend running, Doctor. You said so yourself. I deserve a little R&R, and who better to have looking after me than a doctor. Besides, I think you’ll make a fantastic wife.”
“I am no one’s wife.”
“The apron and the washing up gloves in the TARDIS kitchen beg to differ.”
“Those? Those aren’t – ” They were his, really. “They were a gift,” he admitted.
“That’s not important now.” The Master walked over to the Doctor and embraced him tightly. “We have each other, and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, please.”
“Erm, might I interrupt?” Romana stood from the seat she had taken to watch this little scene unravel.
“Yes, yes, you might, Romana.” The Doctor pulled free of the Master and walked across to where Romana stood, putting his arm around her. “You see? We’re getting married. Me and Romana. And nothing you can say or do can stop it.”
“Oh, I think not.”
The Doctor ignored the Master’s triumphant grin and faced what appeared to be his no longer future bride. “But you said... You promised. You said you would take me even with all of my baggage.”
“I was referring to the odd Inter-Galactical delegate that you may have annoyed slightly – and when I say slightly, I mean rather a lot. I was not referring to him.”
“He’s not my baggage. He’s... he’s...”
“...”
“... My responsibility,” he said to himself. He remembered saying the exact same words on the Valiant, and he remembered how distraught he was when the Master took this opportunity away from him. Now he had given it back. Yup, thought the Doctor, that old proverb about being careful what you wished for really was true.
Romana spotted the Master trying to catch one of the ceremonial doves (the Doctor really was an emotional sap when it came to weddings), no doubt for torture purposes. “Looks to me as though you have your work cut out, Doctor.”
“Please marry me? The future of the planet’s at stake,” begged the Doctor.
“And what planet would that be, Doctor?” Romana asked.
“Oh, he hasn’t shared his, somewhat ambitious, desires to rebuild Gallifrey?” the Master interrupted.
“But that’s preposterous,” said Romana.
“Oh, Doctor. Don’t tell me you haven’t been sharing your inner-most thoughts with your beloved. I bet right now you’re thinking about us, a little family of three, building our brand new home. Well, I’ve got news for you, Romana: two’s company, and... Oh, you know the rest. So go on, off you trot, back to E-Space or wherever.”
“Hang on,” he said to the Master, “you had the same idea as me. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“Yes, well, I changed my mind. Got to keep you on your toes, you know? Even though we’re married, Doctor, I don’t want you getting too comfortable.”
Romana was halfway down the aisle before the Doctor went after her, leaving the Master at the altar. “He’s right, Doctor. You brought me back, and I am eternally grateful. But I didn’t sign up for this. I want to explore, surely you of all people can understand that.”
If the Doctor had spoke straight away, if he hadn’t thought about it for too long, she might have stayed. More importantly, if his eyes hadn’t lingered for a little too long on the Master, with that slightly glazed over look to them, Romana would have still been there when he turned back to face her.
He watched the empty doorway and knew, in his heart of hearts, that she would be back. Third time’s a charm, and all that.
“You better not snore.”
Unfortunately for the Master, the Doctor did snore. But the Master hogged the duvet, so it was all fair in the end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 10:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-04-05 03:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 04:09 pm (UTC)Also? Your icon is WIN.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 04:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 04:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-04-05 04:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 04:35 pm (UTC)BWAH! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 04:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 05:03 pm (UTC)“I, Theta Sigma,” the Master began, “hereby declare that if, by the age of 900 years, I have no significant other to speak of, I will take my best friend, Koschei, as my lawfully wedded husband.”
Brilliant! I love it!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 05:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 10:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-05 11:25 pm (UTC)Hope that helps:)
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Date: 2008-04-05 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2008-04-08 08:51 pm (UTC)Argh! Whilst watching the S4 premiere I kept thinking 'I want the Master to be the Companion this season!' and sighing dejectedly. Ah well, I'll just use every opportunity I get to write fanfic ...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-08 09:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-04-28 06:02 am (UTC)I CRIED.
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Date: 2008-04-28 06:25 am (UTC)