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| Tenth Doctor | |
A Very Civil Partnership by nostalgia [Reviews - 10]  | |
"Let's get evil curtains," said the Master, hope springing eternal.
The Doctor peered at him over a pair of glasses and a tin of yellow emulsion. "Evil curtains?"
"Yeah, why not? If I have to live with you forever I should at least get to choose the curtains."
"There's no such thing as evil curtains," said the Doctor, stopping himself before he added that his mum would never have lied to him about something like that. He'd only been five at the time, but he felt that admitting that old paranoia might reflect badly in any case.
The Master picked up a tin of black gloss. "I met evil curtains once. On IBM VITM. A mad scientist had made them to take over the planet, and they got out and ate everyone. Oh, it was a laugh! Cheers me up on cold nights, that one."
The Doctor assured himself that his mother couldn't possibly have known about that. "We're having a nice, respectable house," he said. "With normal curtains and no black paint anywhere. I don't want the neighbours thinking we're unusual."
"What neighbours? We don't even have a house yet."
The Doctor hadn't thought of that. Bugger.
--
"Do you have a valuation on your current property?" asked the man who may or may not agree to give them a mortgage.
"I was once offered fifteen camels for it, but that didn't really seem enough."
"How large is the property?" asked the unmoved bank employee. Probably he'd heard worse.
The two Time Lords looked at each other.
"Huge," said the Master.
"About this big," said the Doctor, stretching his arms out.
"Darling," said the Master, enjoying the domestic role too much, "there's no need to be modest about size." He smiled at the would-be mortgage provider. "You'll have to excuse my husband, he was raised by poor people."
They were actually married. They'd had a lovely ceremony in a registry office in Cardiff, attended by the immortal freak and his little friends. One of them had even cried. Why they didn't just fake the paperwork was obvious. The Doctor was a big girl.
They hadn't consummated the union. Yet.
"Well, we can leave that to the surveyor. You're both employed, yes?"
"I used to be Prime Minister," said the Master, slightly miffed at how quickly people seemed to forget things like that.
The man peered at him. "Oh, yeah, so you were. I think I voted for you. You got kicked out though, didn't you? Have you worked since?"
"I used to be Prime Minster," the Master repeated. Surely that had to count for something.
"Unemployed then. And your partner?"
"I used to work for the United Nations," said the Doctor. That sounded impressive, didn't it? He liked to think so, anyway.
"And you're currently... unemployed as well?"
The Master cut in, annoyed. "Look, can't we just hypnotise him into giving us a mortgage? Darling," he added, remembering that they were pretending to be human.
"What did I say about mind-control?"
"How should I know? I wasn't listening."
"Excuse me," said the Doctor, rising from his chair and then pushing his former-enemy-now-husband from the small humid office.
"Look," he hissed when they were outside the door, "no manipulating humans by alien means."
"You're the one who insisted on a mortgage. We're Time Lords, you fool, we should be living like kings. In palaces. With little gold crowns and servants and perhaps a harem. Each. I don't like sharing."
"We can't live in the TARDIS. It'd be weird."
"And this isn't?"
"Humans love mortgages! Some of them get more than one, that's how good they are!"
"You want me to live in some dingy little semi-detached after Downing Street?"
The Doctor frowned. "Margaret Thatcher had sex in that bed."
The Master smiled a very special smile. "I know."
--
The Master stood outside with his hands shoved into his pockets, scowling at children and dogs. He hated children and dogs. And Welsh people. And... well, he hated most things. That was part and parcel of being evil.
The Doctor appeared from the house. "Sorry, she said no. Vehemently."
"Why?"
"You kept her family prisoner for a year, killed off one-tenth of her species, and you were going to kill her as well."
"So?" The Master really couldn't see the problem. Such a minor thing to hold a grudge over.
"And she's got a boyfriend," said the Doctor. He was quite confused about that. "Why does she have a boyfriend? What does she need one of those for? I thought she loved me?"
"She did a Jo Grant on you, eh?" The Master had heard all about Martha Jones and her deep human pain. Endlessly, it seemed. And he didn't like sharing.
"Not that I wanted her to stay on her own. Or that I was going to change my mind about being in love with her."
"Of course not." God, he hated all this soap opera crap.
"But she's Martha. My Martha."
"Maybe she'll give you one of her kittens. I expect she'll have lots of those soon enough." Yes, he was still evil.
The Doctor glared at him. "You just don't understand."
"Sorry, I'm just overcome with emotion. Your relationship problems move me to tears." He kicked an empty coke can out of the gutter and onto the pavement where hopefully some old dear would trip on it and break her hip. Both hips. "Don't you have any women who'd be open to a bisexual polyamorous relationship?"
The Doctor thought about this for a moment.
--
"Doctor! I knew you'd come back!" Reinette threw herself on her sad lonely angel, wiping tears on his shirt. "I waited for hours!"
"Sorry, got a bit held up. You know how it is."
"Of course," said Reinette. She was so understanding.
"Hi," said the Master, trying not to vomit. "Oh, is this Versailles? I love pre-revolutionary France!"
The Doctor dealt with the introductions swiftly. "This is Madame de Pompadour. Reinette, this is the Master. He's evil."
"Have you shagged her?"
The Doctor tried to remember if it was polite to answer that one.
"I bet you have. Oh, Doctor, I knew you had it in you! Or in her, I suppose." The Master clapped his hands camply. "This is going to be so much fun!"
Reinette frowned. "Doctor? Could you explain what all this is about?"
"This is the Master, my evil arch-nemesis. I recently defeated him with the power of mass positive thinking and now I have to keep him as my husband in a house with curtains, hopefully curing him of insanity and evil with the power of my love."
Reinette blinked. The Master giggled.
"What?" asked the Doctor. Surely this was a fantastic plan? What could possibly go wrong?
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