Another Ten/Saxon fic
Title: Killing Loneliness
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2015
Notes: Again operating on certain assumptions about Saxon and his real identity. Title comes from a HIM song *hangs head in shame* Small featuring of Jack and Martha. I wrote them bad. I'm sorry.
Summary: Saxon bides his time, and good things come to he who waits.
Killing Loneliness
He loved Earth politics. Corrupt rulers gaining power through the necessary channels. It was slower than what he normally preferred, but now more than ever, he had the time. Slower than deals with hostile extraterrestrials, but more likely to succeed. Still, he was rising through the ranks quicker than others had expected. But then, Harold Saxon wasn't the man he was when he first started working for the party.
When he gained a position with enough security clearance he was sat down and had explained to him the existence of aliens and that they've threatened Britain more than once. He feigned disbelief for their benefit.
He flipped through old UNIT files, laughing softly as he went over his own old exploits, reports signed in Lethbridge-Stewart's sprawl, multiple references to his enigmatic Scientific Adviser. Tiring of the nostalgia, he picked up the file marked “Torchwood.” Fortunately for the papers in front of him, Mr Saxon was far too dignified to actually spit his tea in surprise.
Extremely recent files detailed the intervention of an extraterrestrial with a blue box, making appearances heavily in the last two years. Several file photos were attached. The first set showed a tall man with short hair and angular features. In most of them there was a young woman with blond hair at his side. “Some things never change,” he muttered.
The next set was with the same girl, but the man was different. He was younger with thick messy hair and large eyes. Saxon touched a finger to the photo and slid it down the man's image. He flipped ahead to get the dates of his most recent appearance. And with the girl still keeping contact with her family in London...
Saxon made sure he kept a finger on this particular pulse, or pulses in this case.
It was simple enough. Situations arose that he just knew the Doctor couldn't resist meddling in, being the “moral” voice when scientists and politicians alike showed their shadier sides.
The blond disappeared, a new girl took her place. Saxon tsked as he read the information on one Martha Jones. “Oh, Doctor, you're only consistent in your inconsistency.”
Saxon was in no hurry to reveal himself to the Doctor, oh no. He relished the idea of how he already had the upper hand. He was safe and in control because the Doctor had no reason to be looking for him. But the day was coming soon, and it was going to be delicious.
The Doctor struggled between two burly body guards. “Where are my friends? What have you done with Martha and Jack?”
Saxon nodded to the guards and the dumped the Doctor on the floor, leaving him on his hands and knees. A thrill raked through Saxon seeing him in the submissive posture. He nodded to the guards again and they left the room.
“Hello, Doctor.”
The Doctor got on his feet, rubbing at a shoulder. “Ah, Mr Saxon, we meet at last.”
Saxon smiled. He wanted to tell him. Oh yes, but not as much as he wanted to savor the situation until the bursting point. “I apologize for my men's treatment. They do lack subtlety, but they make it up in... Well, I guess they don't really. Care to take a seat?”
“I rather have my friends.”
“Do not worry, Miss Jones and Captain Harkness are in no danger. So, please...” He gestured to a chair. The Doctor stared at him long. Saxon saw the slightest twitch of eyebrow. A touch of confusion passed the Doctor's eyes. A flash of recognition, but he wasn't quite there yet.
“What do you want from me?”
The question came sooner than Saxon anticipated. Surely there were still at least a couple pages of witty banter. But then the Doctor hardly ever kept to the script. They've been apart too long. He'd forgotten how to keep ahead. Saxon stepped closer, the Doctor didn't move.
Saxon lifted a hand and pressed it against the Doctor's chest. The Doctor didn't move, didn't say anything. He just watched, curious. Saxon closed his eyes, let himself sense nothing else but the twin heartbeats. th-th-th-thud. th-th-th-thud. He tapped out the rhythm with his fingers against his thigh, the beat of an ancient lullaby. “It's been so long,” he whispered.
He opened his eyes and looked up into the Doctor's face. The Doctor's eyes widened. He started shaking his head slowly in disbelief. “No, you can't-” His words mixed with a choked-off sob. He swallowed and regained composure. “It's impossible.”
“My dear Doctor. You of all people should know that nothing is impossible.”
Saxon suddenly found himself wrapped in a pair of long of arms. His ear, now unceremoniously pressed against the Doctor's chest, could now hear as well as feel the inhuman rhythm. He returned the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep in check certain emotions. He had to keep control, he couldn't allow himself to be overcome like the Doctor.
The Doctor's arms tightened. "It really is you."
"Yes. And I've been waiting for you, Doctor."
The Doctor loosened his hold then. "How long have you known I survived?"
"Some time."
The Doctor released him all together. Angry now, hurt. "And you've kept silent? You let me continue thinking I was the only one!"
Saxon leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "I was not certain how such a reunion would have been greeted. We haven't exactly been on the best of terms these last few centuries. You've been very disapproving of my chosen direction in life."
"Yet, before all that we were the closest of friends... And you look at you now! Elected in to government office. Hardly your usual M.O. of selling your soul to the devil for universal dominance." The Doctor's eyes betrayed the hope, possibly even the delusion, that he was talking to a changed man. It was exactly what Saxon wanted.
Saxon allowed a rueful smile. "Yes, well the the war and its results made me reprioritize my life. Ironic, how both of us always manage to come crawling back to this place, the planet that had served as a prison for us once years ago." They both fell silent for a moment. Each being lost in memories of exile, when there were others to punish them and a home to be exiled from. “If you need further proof of my good intentions..." He pressed a button on his desk. A moment later security entered. Following right behind him was a young woman who immediately rush to the Doctor. Saxon rolled his eyes. After her, entered a ridiculously attractive man. He too went to the Doctor, but was also taking in his surroundings, observing, calculating. His gaze settled on Saxon and Saxon smiled. Captain Harkness returned it briefly.
"As I've already said to the Doctor, I must apologize for your treatment. It was entirely uncalled for. I was thinking maybe to make up for it, you'd like a private tour. There's still much reconstruction, so there are some rooms that you'll be the first to see besides the contractors.” He tried to make the prospect sound exciting,
The girl was having none of it. She glared suspiciously at him then turned back to the Doctor. As the Doctor tried to reassure his companions Saxon went over to the security man waiting by the door. He lowered his voice. “Stay with them. If they even look like they're thinking about wandering off and snooping, lock them in their rooms.” He turned back to his three guests. He smiled and raised his voice again. “All set then? I'd love to be able to take you myself, but the Doctor and I need to continue our discussion in private.”
“Yes,” The Doctor only looked at Saxon now. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
The girl frowned. “What's that suppose to mean?”
Harkness took her arm and started leading her out of the room. “Come on, Martha. I think we should take the Prime Minister up on his generous offer.” He gave Saxon a knowing smile and winked, gently pushing the girl out the door in front of him.
The door clicked shut. Saxon approached the Doctor and put his hands on the taller man's shoulders. “Do you really want to 'catch-up' or, would you prefer to make up for lost time?” He waited. It had to be the Doctor's decision. Only then would he know the Doctor would trust him.
The Doctor's kiss was desperate. Once the connection was made, he wasn't letting go. But Saxon's human body needed the air. “Not here,” he gasped against the Doctor's lips. He took his hand. “Come with me.”
In the bedroom the kissing continued. Clothing removed, hands skimmed over and clutched at flesh. The Doctor turned his attention to Saxon's neck, flicking his tongue against the pulse point he found there. Saxon shuddered. He always suspected the Doctor had a Human fetish.
“Doesn't it bother you, knowing a I had to kill a man to have this body you're so intent on ravishing?”
The Doctor stopped his ministrations, bringing his head up to look into Saxon's eyes. “I have my own multitude of sins that brought me to this moment.” Anger, guilt, sadness, and arousal mixed in those brown eyes to reveal the purest form of passion. Saxon growled deep in his throat and pulled the Doctor to the bed.
Saxon extracted himself from the Doctor's loose hold. He stood and looked down at his sleeping companion. So trusting. He could easily take one of the Samurai swords from the mantle piece and slit his throat, or take two and stab both hearts at once. He turned away before the images became too tempting.
Dried sweat made his skin feel grimy and he knew the unmistakable scent of sex lingering in the air was also clinging to him. He thought of having a quick wash, but realized that his condition would only aid his next purpose. He slipped on pyjama bottoms and his dressing gown. Nothing else. He checked that the Doctor was truly asleep once more before leaving the room.
“The girl?” Saxon asked the man stationed outside one of the guest rooms. He nodded. “Open it, please.”
The girl stared at the door as it opened, jumping up from the bed where she was sitting. “Where's the Doctor? Have you done something to him? Just who are you really?”
Saxon sigh. Pushy and inquisitive: how tiresome. “I'll answer your questions, Miss Jones, but I don't think you'll much care for them.”
“Try me.”
“Very well. As to where the Doctor is, he's in my bedroom, in my bed.” The girl's eyebrows shot upwards, and her jaw the opposite direction. “And judging by your expression, you've already figured out the answer to your second question.” Saxon smirked.
She sat slowly back on the edge of the bed. She stared at the opposite wall. “But why? He wouldn't just-”
Saxon clicked his tongue. “My poor, naive child. You're in love with him, aren't you?” He came to her side. “And you thought he could love you back?” The girl didn't respond, but hung her head. “You thought you could ease his loneliness, have him give you his hearts? I'm afraid he's given those away long before he ever left Gallifrey on his series of crusades. He'd given them to me.”
The girl finally looked up at him. “You...you're like him? But I thought-”
Saxon chuckled. “He's no longer alone my dear.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “he doesn't need you anymore, Martha Jones.”
He left her with silent tears running down her face. Watching her heart break was more fun than he originally anticipated.
He quietly returned to his bedroom. The Doctor stirred. “You left,” his drowsy voice came from the darkness.
Saxon undressed and climbed back into bed. He laid down in the Doctor's waiting arms. “I'll make sure we never leave each other again,” The Master vowed.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2015
Notes: Again operating on certain assumptions about Saxon and his real identity. Title comes from a HIM song *hangs head in shame* Small featuring of Jack and Martha. I wrote them bad. I'm sorry.
Summary: Saxon bides his time, and good things come to he who waits.
Killing Loneliness
He loved Earth politics. Corrupt rulers gaining power through the necessary channels. It was slower than what he normally preferred, but now more than ever, he had the time. Slower than deals with hostile extraterrestrials, but more likely to succeed. Still, he was rising through the ranks quicker than others had expected. But then, Harold Saxon wasn't the man he was when he first started working for the party.
When he gained a position with enough security clearance he was sat down and had explained to him the existence of aliens and that they've threatened Britain more than once. He feigned disbelief for their benefit.
He flipped through old UNIT files, laughing softly as he went over his own old exploits, reports signed in Lethbridge-Stewart's sprawl, multiple references to his enigmatic Scientific Adviser. Tiring of the nostalgia, he picked up the file marked “Torchwood.” Fortunately for the papers in front of him, Mr Saxon was far too dignified to actually spit his tea in surprise.
Extremely recent files detailed the intervention of an extraterrestrial with a blue box, making appearances heavily in the last two years. Several file photos were attached. The first set showed a tall man with short hair and angular features. In most of them there was a young woman with blond hair at his side. “Some things never change,” he muttered.
The next set was with the same girl, but the man was different. He was younger with thick messy hair and large eyes. Saxon touched a finger to the photo and slid it down the man's image. He flipped ahead to get the dates of his most recent appearance. And with the girl still keeping contact with her family in London...
Saxon made sure he kept a finger on this particular pulse, or pulses in this case.
It was simple enough. Situations arose that he just knew the Doctor couldn't resist meddling in, being the “moral” voice when scientists and politicians alike showed their shadier sides.
The blond disappeared, a new girl took her place. Saxon tsked as he read the information on one Martha Jones. “Oh, Doctor, you're only consistent in your inconsistency.”
Saxon was in no hurry to reveal himself to the Doctor, oh no. He relished the idea of how he already had the upper hand. He was safe and in control because the Doctor had no reason to be looking for him. But the day was coming soon, and it was going to be delicious.
The Doctor struggled between two burly body guards. “Where are my friends? What have you done with Martha and Jack?”
Saxon nodded to the guards and the dumped the Doctor on the floor, leaving him on his hands and knees. A thrill raked through Saxon seeing him in the submissive posture. He nodded to the guards again and they left the room.
“Hello, Doctor.”
The Doctor got on his feet, rubbing at a shoulder. “Ah, Mr Saxon, we meet at last.”
Saxon smiled. He wanted to tell him. Oh yes, but not as much as he wanted to savor the situation until the bursting point. “I apologize for my men's treatment. They do lack subtlety, but they make it up in... Well, I guess they don't really. Care to take a seat?”
“I rather have my friends.”
“Do not worry, Miss Jones and Captain Harkness are in no danger. So, please...” He gestured to a chair. The Doctor stared at him long. Saxon saw the slightest twitch of eyebrow. A touch of confusion passed the Doctor's eyes. A flash of recognition, but he wasn't quite there yet.
“What do you want from me?”
The question came sooner than Saxon anticipated. Surely there were still at least a couple pages of witty banter. But then the Doctor hardly ever kept to the script. They've been apart too long. He'd forgotten how to keep ahead. Saxon stepped closer, the Doctor didn't move.
Saxon lifted a hand and pressed it against the Doctor's chest. The Doctor didn't move, didn't say anything. He just watched, curious. Saxon closed his eyes, let himself sense nothing else but the twin heartbeats. th-th-th-thud. th-th-th-thud. He tapped out the rhythm with his fingers against his thigh, the beat of an ancient lullaby. “It's been so long,” he whispered.
He opened his eyes and looked up into the Doctor's face. The Doctor's eyes widened. He started shaking his head slowly in disbelief. “No, you can't-” His words mixed with a choked-off sob. He swallowed and regained composure. “It's impossible.”
“My dear Doctor. You of all people should know that nothing is impossible.”
Saxon suddenly found himself wrapped in a pair of long of arms. His ear, now unceremoniously pressed against the Doctor's chest, could now hear as well as feel the inhuman rhythm. He returned the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep in check certain emotions. He had to keep control, he couldn't allow himself to be overcome like the Doctor.
The Doctor's arms tightened. "It really is you."
"Yes. And I've been waiting for you, Doctor."
The Doctor loosened his hold then. "How long have you known I survived?"
"Some time."
The Doctor released him all together. Angry now, hurt. "And you've kept silent? You let me continue thinking I was the only one!"
Saxon leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "I was not certain how such a reunion would have been greeted. We haven't exactly been on the best of terms these last few centuries. You've been very disapproving of my chosen direction in life."
"Yet, before all that we were the closest of friends... And you look at you now! Elected in to government office. Hardly your usual M.O. of selling your soul to the devil for universal dominance." The Doctor's eyes betrayed the hope, possibly even the delusion, that he was talking to a changed man. It was exactly what Saxon wanted.
Saxon allowed a rueful smile. "Yes, well the the war and its results made me reprioritize my life. Ironic, how both of us always manage to come crawling back to this place, the planet that had served as a prison for us once years ago." They both fell silent for a moment. Each being lost in memories of exile, when there were others to punish them and a home to be exiled from. “If you need further proof of my good intentions..." He pressed a button on his desk. A moment later security entered. Following right behind him was a young woman who immediately rush to the Doctor. Saxon rolled his eyes. After her, entered a ridiculously attractive man. He too went to the Doctor, but was also taking in his surroundings, observing, calculating. His gaze settled on Saxon and Saxon smiled. Captain Harkness returned it briefly.
"As I've already said to the Doctor, I must apologize for your treatment. It was entirely uncalled for. I was thinking maybe to make up for it, you'd like a private tour. There's still much reconstruction, so there are some rooms that you'll be the first to see besides the contractors.” He tried to make the prospect sound exciting,
The girl was having none of it. She glared suspiciously at him then turned back to the Doctor. As the Doctor tried to reassure his companions Saxon went over to the security man waiting by the door. He lowered his voice. “Stay with them. If they even look like they're thinking about wandering off and snooping, lock them in their rooms.” He turned back to his three guests. He smiled and raised his voice again. “All set then? I'd love to be able to take you myself, but the Doctor and I need to continue our discussion in private.”
“Yes,” The Doctor only looked at Saxon now. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
The girl frowned. “What's that suppose to mean?”
Harkness took her arm and started leading her out of the room. “Come on, Martha. I think we should take the Prime Minister up on his generous offer.” He gave Saxon a knowing smile and winked, gently pushing the girl out the door in front of him.
The door clicked shut. Saxon approached the Doctor and put his hands on the taller man's shoulders. “Do you really want to 'catch-up' or, would you prefer to make up for lost time?” He waited. It had to be the Doctor's decision. Only then would he know the Doctor would trust him.
The Doctor's kiss was desperate. Once the connection was made, he wasn't letting go. But Saxon's human body needed the air. “Not here,” he gasped against the Doctor's lips. He took his hand. “Come with me.”
In the bedroom the kissing continued. Clothing removed, hands skimmed over and clutched at flesh. The Doctor turned his attention to Saxon's neck, flicking his tongue against the pulse point he found there. Saxon shuddered. He always suspected the Doctor had a Human fetish.
“Doesn't it bother you, knowing a I had to kill a man to have this body you're so intent on ravishing?”
The Doctor stopped his ministrations, bringing his head up to look into Saxon's eyes. “I have my own multitude of sins that brought me to this moment.” Anger, guilt, sadness, and arousal mixed in those brown eyes to reveal the purest form of passion. Saxon growled deep in his throat and pulled the Doctor to the bed.
Saxon extracted himself from the Doctor's loose hold. He stood and looked down at his sleeping companion. So trusting. He could easily take one of the Samurai swords from the mantle piece and slit his throat, or take two and stab both hearts at once. He turned away before the images became too tempting.
Dried sweat made his skin feel grimy and he knew the unmistakable scent of sex lingering in the air was also clinging to him. He thought of having a quick wash, but realized that his condition would only aid his next purpose. He slipped on pyjama bottoms and his dressing gown. Nothing else. He checked that the Doctor was truly asleep once more before leaving the room.
“The girl?” Saxon asked the man stationed outside one of the guest rooms. He nodded. “Open it, please.”
The girl stared at the door as it opened, jumping up from the bed where she was sitting. “Where's the Doctor? Have you done something to him? Just who are you really?”
Saxon sigh. Pushy and inquisitive: how tiresome. “I'll answer your questions, Miss Jones, but I don't think you'll much care for them.”
“Try me.”
“Very well. As to where the Doctor is, he's in my bedroom, in my bed.” The girl's eyebrows shot upwards, and her jaw the opposite direction. “And judging by your expression, you've already figured out the answer to your second question.” Saxon smirked.
She sat slowly back on the edge of the bed. She stared at the opposite wall. “But why? He wouldn't just-”
Saxon clicked his tongue. “My poor, naive child. You're in love with him, aren't you?” He came to her side. “And you thought he could love you back?” The girl didn't respond, but hung her head. “You thought you could ease his loneliness, have him give you his hearts? I'm afraid he's given those away long before he ever left Gallifrey on his series of crusades. He'd given them to me.”
The girl finally looked up at him. “You...you're like him? But I thought-”
Saxon chuckled. “He's no longer alone my dear.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “he doesn't need you anymore, Martha Jones.”
He left her with silent tears running down her face. Watching her heart break was more fun than he originally anticipated.
He quietly returned to his bedroom. The Doctor stirred. “You left,” his drowsy voice came from the darkness.
Saxon undressed and climbed back into bed. He laid down in the Doctor's waiting arms. “I'll make sure we never leave each other again,” The Master vowed.