are you asking me out on a date?- open to not_theman_iwas

[my_dear_doctor]

If the Master were honest with himself (which he's not), he'd be surprised at the way this is going, and how easily it's going there.  His own Doctor is gentleman enough, of course, and they have been able to call days of truce in cafes and parks- funny, how often the Master finds himself in London.  Never has he asked, though-- that's not the way

Comments

[not_theman_iwas]

It's been quite some time since she'd been in his TARDIS, but a certain amount of manners required that she not go poking around to see what sort of differences there were between her own and his, even if finding any modifications he'd made would be very interesting. He probably had the isomorphic controls set, at any rate (she certainly would).

His remark gets something of an obligatory pout, but as a matter of occasion, it's very likely she's not dressed very appropriately. Still: "They are very practical for my usual day's events." Admittedly, there's a drop-off prior to their popularity she has to adhere to, but blue jeans, once in the public eye, happens to be one of those fashions that never really goes out of style.

She's already on her way towards the door, though, so really at this point it's just arguing for the principle of the thing. (She also can't help but admit to being a little bit curious as to the sorts of things the Master might have acquired, over the years. She suspects large amounts of black.)

[my_dear_doctor]

Even if she were in the mood to go snooping around, besides the isomorphic controls, Lolita is a dear thing, far more cooperative than the Doctor's own obsolete tinpot of a machine. She would undoubtedly assure that the Doctor didn't get into anything she shouldn't.

Her objection is met with a set of supremely unimpressed eyebrows arched in a way that bespeaks volumes. The Doctor, he is pleased to see, turns to leave. Good. He would have hated to have an altercation over something as petty as that. Whilst the Doctor is off changing into something more suitable, the Master finishes setting the coordinates, and the Time Rotor wheezes into life, glowing green. He's set the temporal coordinates for a time before the current crowd of 'regulars' discovered the bar. There are some undesirables among the bunch, not to mention far, far too many Doctors; for now, he wants this one all to himself.

[not_theman_iwas]

Finding the wardrobe is far more simple in his TARDIS than it is in hers, if she's being honest with herself, and thus it doesn't take very long at all to locate it. Naturally, given that he was the one who insisted on her changing, she'll let him wait precisely as long as she needs to find something suitable in the sea of black.

Assume twenty to thirty minutes for that, then. But she hasn't gotten lost, and she does look rather dashing in her newfound attire, if she does say so herself. "Should I ask why you had need of so many dresses in your Wardrobe?"

She's allowed a little bit of teasing! It's in the Master-Doctor handbook.

[my_dear_doctor]

At the end of the twenty or thirty minutes, the Master is, perhaps, tapping his proverbial toes just a little. But he's a patient man-- if ever he wasn't, he's certainly been trained into it by now-- and it's no great hardship. In any event, he's used to the foppish and dandified tendencies of his own Doctor; he expects he probably would have taken his time as well. If he hadn't been impeccably dressed in the first place, of course, which is unlikely