All he could do in a moment like this was stare. He, the Master, destined ruler of the universe, could only stare at the amount of clothes that were in the Wardrobe Room. Why does the idiot have the need to have so many clothes? he thought as he looked through the racks. All that he was wanting to find was a costume to wear to the costume party tonight. But who knew his adversary had so many clothes?
But, in the end, the Master did manage to find something, along with accessories to go along with it. It was a nineteenth century British officer uniform — dark blue overcoat and pants, white frilly shirt, and authentic medals and ribbons to give it believability.
Happy with himself, he left the room and entered the slowly transforming console room. He smiled at this work. Everything is coming together nicely, he thought as he left the TARDIS.
One of the things he hated about being Defense Minister was the parties that he had to attend. He manipulated his way up this far, but could have done without the parties. But if he wanted to get to the position of prime minister…he had to play it up more. Though he had more than one way to get what he wanted, but he did not want the attention. Yet…
As he looked around, he recognized a few faces — cabinet officials, several lords and ladies, a few celebrities, and, surprisingly, former Prime Minister Harriet Jones. The woman whose position he was going to get. Oh, he was going to get that position; but he only had to wait. The Archangel Network was completed and in operation; but he had to be subtle about it. No need to attract the Doctor before they were suppose to meet.
But what interested the Master more was the woman Jones was talking to. She was around the same height as Jones, but younger — around 25 or 26 years old. She had long, dark, curly brown hair and hazel eyes. She was quite beautiful for a human. But what intrigued him more was the dark aura that seemed to radiate off of her. It was quite alluring.
Seeing her give Jones a fake smile, he watched as she wandered off toward the balcony door. He had a rare feeling of curiosity (and the need to have bit of “fun”) and followed her. He reached the balcony and looked around, spotting his prey standing near the moonlit pool. “A dark night, don’t you think?” he asked as he stood next to her.
The woman, standing perfectly still, replied forlornly, “I suppose one could say that.”
“What would you consider it to be?”
All she did was shrug. He knew that if he was going to enjoy himself, he had to get inside her head. But that was being proved difficult — this woman had very good shields; which, he suspected, she did not know she had. This is going to be fun, he thought with a slight smile. The Master loved a challenge. Mind games it is, then. “Come now, one should have an answer to this,” he told her, “I’m sure you can think of something.”
Finally, he got a reaction out of her. Well, a slight reaction. She turned her head a little, turning her head up to look at him. “Oh, and why do you want to know, Mr. Saxon?” she asked, a bit of venom evident in her voice.
The Master gave her a smile. Oh, he was going to like her. “Can’t a person attempt to strike up a conversation?” he asked smoothly. “Right now, though, you have me at a disadvantage.”
He proceeded to walk behind her before leaning down to whisper into her ear, “I don’t know your name.”
He smiled when he notice her shudder. “Amanda Reynolds,” he heard her say.
“Well, Miss Reynolds,” he continued to whisper, “I think that you are afraid of the dark.”
“Am I now?” she asked. He was pleased that she did not move away from him. “What if I am afraid of Harriet Jones?” she added dryly.
He laughed. “When one is afraid of her is when the world ends,” he amusingly replied. That got a small smile out of the human. “But are you really afraid off?” he asked again.
When he did not get an answer, he answered for her. “I think that you are afraid of life,” he said. “You are afraid of what people may do to you. You think that they think you are worthless and incompetent…”
That was when she pulled away. Turning to face him, she glared at him and said, “Who do you think you are? You have absolutely no idea what I am going through!”
He smiled wickedly and said unremorsefully, “I apologize. I didn’t realize that stating the obvious could be so offending.”
Her glare intensified as she retorted, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Saxon. A jerk, a pervert, a hypocrite…am I missing anything?”
The Time Lord responded by grabbing her, spinning her around, and holding her close to his body. “At least I admit it,” he whispered huskily into her ear. He smiled again when she stiffened. “You, on the other hand, refuse to admit it. You apparently want to please everyone around you. But you can’t.” He let his hand stray down her the strap of her gown before brought it back up to her shoulders and began to massage them, causing her to let out a moan. Smiling in satisfaction, he added, “Maybe you aren’t as worthless as others think.”
“Oh?” Amanda moaned, enjoying what he was doing.
“You are just a little slut with an inferiority complex.”
She immediately tried to pull away, but the Master held on tight. “I’m sorry, you’re a little slut with more intriguing benefits,” he amended. With that, he let her go and spun her back around to face him. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered before he gave her a teasing kiss and walked away.
Oh, he was definitely going to see her again.