ficlet
Title: You and Me Baby Ain't Nothing but Mammals (so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel)
Summary: The Master bugs the Doctor's TARDIS, with horrifying results
Tucked away in a corner on the Doctor's TARDIS, a small, inconspicuous device blinked away to itself. White and plasticky, like the walls, no-one would ever spot it there unless they were looking for it, and why would they? The Doctor certainly would never suspect anything was amiss, and his companions were unfailingly dim-witted. Oh yes. The Master was pleased with this one.
A bugging device, planted there by the Master during their last encounter, it gave him complete visual access to every corner of the Doctor's TARDIS. And the Doctor had no idea. A sweet victory indeed. Not... that it allowed him to do anything other than watch, of course, but that wasn't the point! Every one up on the Doctor was better than before, and besides, it was rather... entertaining on the long, lonely flights through the Vortex, to sit back with a snifter of brandy and watch the Doctor flicking switches and toying with levers.
... Not like that. Really.
He had, however, begun to wish that the device hadn't come with an audio aspect as well as a visual one. The first time he was interrupted in his work by shouts of 'Oh! Oh! Oh, Doctor, yes, just like that, baby!', the Master had watched, despite himself, with a kind of morbid fascination. On the console, too, with the ship in flight; he wouldn't have thought that possible. Or wise, come to that. Perhaps that's the reason the tinpot old machine was such a heap; the Doctor was too busy screwing his companions over the controls to bother ever repairing the thing.
So he'd pondered whilst watching the Doctor and his latest pet bonk their way to completion, and once they'd finished, he went off for a shower. Disgusting.
That time, it wasn't so bad. An object of curiosity, almost, but when it started to become a habit, the Master almost suspected the Doctor did know about the little recording device he'd planted there and was doing it on purpose. Little Miss Moran was a screamer, too, and the Master found it nigh on impossible to get evil plotting done when she was yelling variations on 'Fuck, yes, fuck me, baby, give it to me hard!' and 'Oh god, oh god, oh god,' at all hours of the day or night. And considering there technically was no such thing as day or night in the Vortex, that was a feat.
That it took the Master as long as it did for him to crack was really a mark of his iron will, but nevertheless, one day, with the Doctor's head buried between his companion's thighs, the Master snapped. He threw down the fiddly bit of the console he'd been working on, actually jumped up and down in frustration, and shouted, 'WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?'
... And they did.
The Doctor lifted his head, wiped his mouth, and turned to face the camera. With an absolutely infuriating smirk, he touched fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute. 'Anything for you, Master.'
The Master blanched, and fled the room.
Summary: The Master bugs the Doctor's TARDIS, with horrifying results
Tucked away in a corner on the Doctor's TARDIS, a small, inconspicuous device blinked away to itself. White and plasticky, like the walls, no-one would ever spot it there unless they were looking for it, and why would they? The Doctor certainly would never suspect anything was amiss, and his companions were unfailingly dim-witted. Oh yes. The Master was pleased with this one.
A bugging device, planted there by the Master during their last encounter, it gave him complete visual access to every corner of the Doctor's TARDIS. And the Doctor had no idea. A sweet victory indeed. Not... that it allowed him to do anything other than watch, of course, but that wasn't the point! Every one up on the Doctor was better than before, and besides, it was rather... entertaining on the long, lonely flights through the Vortex, to sit back with a snifter of brandy and watch the Doctor flicking switches and toying with levers.
... Not like that. Really.
He had, however, begun to wish that the device hadn't come with an audio aspect as well as a visual one. The first time he was interrupted in his work by shouts of 'Oh! Oh! Oh, Doctor, yes, just like that, baby!', the Master had watched, despite himself, with a kind of morbid fascination. On the console, too, with the ship in flight; he wouldn't have thought that possible. Or wise, come to that. Perhaps that's the reason the tinpot old machine was such a heap; the Doctor was too busy screwing his companions over the controls to bother ever repairing the thing.
So he'd pondered whilst watching the Doctor and his latest pet bonk their way to completion, and once they'd finished, he went off for a shower. Disgusting.
That time, it wasn't so bad. An object of curiosity, almost, but when it started to become a habit, the Master almost suspected the Doctor did know about the little recording device he'd planted there and was doing it on purpose. Little Miss Moran was a screamer, too, and the Master found it nigh on impossible to get evil plotting done when she was yelling variations on 'Fuck, yes, fuck me, baby, give it to me hard!' and 'Oh god, oh god, oh god,' at all hours of the day or night. And considering there technically was no such thing as day or night in the Vortex, that was a feat.
That it took the Master as long as it did for him to crack was really a mark of his iron will, but nevertheless, one day, with the Doctor's head buried between his companion's thighs, the Master snapped. He threw down the fiddly bit of the console he'd been working on, actually jumped up and down in frustration, and shouted, 'WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?'
... And they did.
The Doctor lifted his head, wiped his mouth, and turned to face the camera. With an absolutely infuriating smirk, he touched fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute. 'Anything for you, Master.'
The Master blanched, and fled the room.