A Fight to the (petite) Death
Feb. 25th, 2011 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonofmemoryAnother anon response that I've decided to claim. This one is silly and quite a bit cracky, so just keep that in mind. As if the title didn't give that all away, but hey...
A Fight to the (petite) Death
By: Memory Dragon
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I make any claim to.
Warnings: It's just cracky, pure and simple. That and the Doctor doesn't play fair while fencing. At least it's short?
Orginal Prompt: the doctor writes doctor/master fic
Author's Thanks: Once again, many thanks to Cy for betaing. I don't know where I'd be without her. She's the one who tempted me to write this by telling my my Three voice was perfect, so thank her for boosting my ego.
~
The Doctor stood facing his best enemy with a slightly winded expression, foil in hand as he lamented the weight of the weapon. He could have disarmed the Master with that one, if he'd had the heavier weapon. Épées always felt more solid in his hand, sturdier and more reliable. The Master was looking down at his own weapon with a slight scowl, probably wishing for a sabre instead, if the Doctor was reading that look right. Still, it couldn't be helped. As the Brigadier was so fond of telling him, government run facilities weren't made of money and they had already proven they could make do with the sub par equipment the prison had lying around. Given that the warden had kindly lent them a spare room to fence in despite misgivings of giving the prisoner a weapon, the Doctor found he really couldn't argue too much.
Feinting to the left, the Master stepped forward and kept his blade out of range. A risky move, but before the Doctor could take proper advantage of it, the smaller man was bringing the foil in with such speed that the the Doctor barely managed to parry. This close, he could see the small beads of sweat on the Master's brow, the concentration in his eyes even as the Doctor held himself loosely, as if he were bored with the action. He decided breaking the rules of engagement and the Master's focus was a good move then and he proceeded to do so as he pushed the blades to the right and placed a foot between the Master's elegant stance, shifting his weight until it was on the front foot. His free arm slipped around the Master's back to keep the startled man from moving away as their chests touched and the Doctor leaned down to claim those half parted lips.
He could feel the Master's surprise against him, the light gasp in his mouth turning to a soft whimper of desire as the smaller man practically melted against him. The Doctor's tongue won the fight for dominance as the foil nearly fell slack from the Master's hand, and he couldn't help a small smirk at his win. Unfortunately, that was enough to bring the Master back to the here and now and the Master opened his eyes in fury, pushing the Doctor away as he panted for breath. The Master stumbled back a pace or two, looking deliciously disheveled as he raised the blade between them defensively.
"That's one more point for me, I'd say." The Doctor slid easily back into a fighting stance as the Master tried to breathlessly correct his and the Doctor lunged forward in a flèche instead of politely waiting for the Master to compose himself. They went on like this for another minute or so, though the Master never did properly regain his footing or focus. He found it refreshing to be in control of the fight, playing with the Master like a cat playing with a mouse as he forced the other man to give more ground until he was nearly backed against a wall. Finally, the Master made one more attempt to force him back as he seized the right of way, but it was a sloppy attempt and the Doctor parried and riposted easily, putting more of his weight behind the strike. The foil flew out of the Master's hand and he drew his into a graceful arch before settling the point at the Master's throat.
They stood like that for a moment, the Master pressed and tensed against the wall with a mixture of fear, rage, and desire on his face while the Doctor languidly regarded him with a lazy expression. "I think this settles the question of who will top quite nicely, old chap. Though if I didn't know any better, I'd almost be tempted to think you lost on purpose."
The Master sneered, attempting to shove the blade away and was surprised at the resistance he found. "Oh, no you don't," the Doctor said, picking up a small bottle of lube that had been resting on the table in wait and tossing it to the Master. He was glad to notice a bit of the Master's lunch that had been laid out for them and picked up a sandwich to nibble on as well. "Now, are you going to prepare yourself or do I have to do it for you? We haven't got all day you know, if the warden decides we've been down here too long."
"I don't need-"
* * *
"Doctor, what are you writing?"
The Doctor jumped half an inch in surprise, looking over at the curious Jo who perched on the chair in front of him, elbows on the table as she rested her chin on her hands. He quickly gathered the paper together in front of him, neatening the ends with a flustered tap. "Jo," he said after a pause, attempting to compose himself and cross his legs without raising suspicion. No, he hadn't been imagining going to see the Master and fencing to settle a sexual dispute. At least, that was the innocent image he attempted to put forth. Thankfully, the girl in question was very naive at times. "What are you doing here? I thought you were out with Captain Yates."
"Well, I was," she said, with a small shake of her head that sent her usual slightly messy hair into her face so she had to push it aside. "But the Brigadier called everyone back on some emergency. I expect he'll be along to talk to you soon too."
Well, that put things into perspective. On second thought, he was much more inclined to have Jo interrupting than have the Brigadier march in here and demand to know what he'd been doing instead of that report he'd asked for. He was also rather glad this regeneration was more prone to write than draw when his hands felt the need to be busy during such a fantasy. He never wanted another repeat of his last regeneration having to give Victoria 'The Talk' while Jaime was off to the side snickering after she innocently asked what the two men in his picture were doing. As it was, the Doctor was sure Freud would have a field day with his little jaunt into creative writing.
Jo tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtfully up at the Time Lord. "Doctor, you never answered my question," she said, in a lightly scolding tone of voice.
"If you must know," he answered, a touch defensively as he folded the sheets to where they couldn't be read, "I was writing the warden in charge of the facility where the Master is being held. I want to know if he's being treated properly. Now, if the Brigadier is going to be along-"
"How sweet!" she said, earning herself a small glare for interrupting him. He made a mental note to steal her afternoon snack later in revenge, wondering if she'd have something better than the fruit she'd brought last time. "I knew you were worrying over him. Why don't we just pop in and give him a visit. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you and you won't have to wait for a reply!"
For one moment, the Doctor wondered how much of her naivete was an act and how much she really knew. There was just the slightest glint in her eyes as she mentioned a reply letter that put him on guard. However, now that she had mentioned it, he had just been considering such a thing before his fantasy had taken over. With his free hand, he rubbed his chin absently in thought. Standing up, he put the papers on the inside pocket of his jacket and reached for his over coat. "It does sound like a splendid idea, Jo. Do you suppose if we left now the Brigadier would miss us?"
His assistant just smiled innocently up at him, looking all together far too pleased at the change of plans. "Oh, I'd love to see the look on his face!"
While privately he agreed with her and that had been the exact reason for making such a comment, he did give her a slightly reproachful look as she went after her own coat. "Now, Jo, you should have more respect for your commanding officer." Once she'd gotten her purse, she stuck her tongue out at him in a cheeky manner that made him smile in spite himself. "Come along then," he said, thinking back to the papers in his breast pocket. "Let's go see how the Master is faring. Maybe he'll be up for a bout of fencing, if they allow that sort of exercise."
~FINI~
Memory: Yes, I am shameless for using that as an excuse to write a fight scene. Does it bother me? Not in the slightest. <3
Anyway, have a quote of the fic. It's rather fitting for this one...
"Using a sword is like sex. It's all a matter of balance, leverage and timing."
-Bob Anderson
A Fight to the (petite) Death
By: Memory Dragon
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I make any claim to.
Warnings: It's just cracky, pure and simple. That and the Doctor doesn't play fair while fencing. At least it's short?
Orginal Prompt: the doctor writes doctor/master fic
Author's Thanks: Once again, many thanks to Cy for betaing. I don't know where I'd be without her. She's the one who tempted me to write this by telling my my Three voice was perfect, so thank her for boosting my ego.
~
The Doctor stood facing his best enemy with a slightly winded expression, foil in hand as he lamented the weight of the weapon. He could have disarmed the Master with that one, if he'd had the heavier weapon. Épées always felt more solid in his hand, sturdier and more reliable. The Master was looking down at his own weapon with a slight scowl, probably wishing for a sabre instead, if the Doctor was reading that look right. Still, it couldn't be helped. As the Brigadier was so fond of telling him, government run facilities weren't made of money and they had already proven they could make do with the sub par equipment the prison had lying around. Given that the warden had kindly lent them a spare room to fence in despite misgivings of giving the prisoner a weapon, the Doctor found he really couldn't argue too much.
Feinting to the left, the Master stepped forward and kept his blade out of range. A risky move, but before the Doctor could take proper advantage of it, the smaller man was bringing the foil in with such speed that the the Doctor barely managed to parry. This close, he could see the small beads of sweat on the Master's brow, the concentration in his eyes even as the Doctor held himself loosely, as if he were bored with the action. He decided breaking the rules of engagement and the Master's focus was a good move then and he proceeded to do so as he pushed the blades to the right and placed a foot between the Master's elegant stance, shifting his weight until it was on the front foot. His free arm slipped around the Master's back to keep the startled man from moving away as their chests touched and the Doctor leaned down to claim those half parted lips.
He could feel the Master's surprise against him, the light gasp in his mouth turning to a soft whimper of desire as the smaller man practically melted against him. The Doctor's tongue won the fight for dominance as the foil nearly fell slack from the Master's hand, and he couldn't help a small smirk at his win. Unfortunately, that was enough to bring the Master back to the here and now and the Master opened his eyes in fury, pushing the Doctor away as he panted for breath. The Master stumbled back a pace or two, looking deliciously disheveled as he raised the blade between them defensively.
"That's one more point for me, I'd say." The Doctor slid easily back into a fighting stance as the Master tried to breathlessly correct his and the Doctor lunged forward in a flèche instead of politely waiting for the Master to compose himself. They went on like this for another minute or so, though the Master never did properly regain his footing or focus. He found it refreshing to be in control of the fight, playing with the Master like a cat playing with a mouse as he forced the other man to give more ground until he was nearly backed against a wall. Finally, the Master made one more attempt to force him back as he seized the right of way, but it was a sloppy attempt and the Doctor parried and riposted easily, putting more of his weight behind the strike. The foil flew out of the Master's hand and he drew his into a graceful arch before settling the point at the Master's throat.
They stood like that for a moment, the Master pressed and tensed against the wall with a mixture of fear, rage, and desire on his face while the Doctor languidly regarded him with a lazy expression. "I think this settles the question of who will top quite nicely, old chap. Though if I didn't know any better, I'd almost be tempted to think you lost on purpose."
The Master sneered, attempting to shove the blade away and was surprised at the resistance he found. "Oh, no you don't," the Doctor said, picking up a small bottle of lube that had been resting on the table in wait and tossing it to the Master. He was glad to notice a bit of the Master's lunch that had been laid out for them and picked up a sandwich to nibble on as well. "Now, are you going to prepare yourself or do I have to do it for you? We haven't got all day you know, if the warden decides we've been down here too long."
"I don't need-"
* * *
"Doctor, what are you writing?"
The Doctor jumped half an inch in surprise, looking over at the curious Jo who perched on the chair in front of him, elbows on the table as she rested her chin on her hands. He quickly gathered the paper together in front of him, neatening the ends with a flustered tap. "Jo," he said after a pause, attempting to compose himself and cross his legs without raising suspicion. No, he hadn't been imagining going to see the Master and fencing to settle a sexual dispute. At least, that was the innocent image he attempted to put forth. Thankfully, the girl in question was very naive at times. "What are you doing here? I thought you were out with Captain Yates."
"Well, I was," she said, with a small shake of her head that sent her usual slightly messy hair into her face so she had to push it aside. "But the Brigadier called everyone back on some emergency. I expect he'll be along to talk to you soon too."
Well, that put things into perspective. On second thought, he was much more inclined to have Jo interrupting than have the Brigadier march in here and demand to know what he'd been doing instead of that report he'd asked for. He was also rather glad this regeneration was more prone to write than draw when his hands felt the need to be busy during such a fantasy. He never wanted another repeat of his last regeneration having to give Victoria 'The Talk' while Jaime was off to the side snickering after she innocently asked what the two men in his picture were doing. As it was, the Doctor was sure Freud would have a field day with his little jaunt into creative writing.
Jo tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtfully up at the Time Lord. "Doctor, you never answered my question," she said, in a lightly scolding tone of voice.
"If you must know," he answered, a touch defensively as he folded the sheets to where they couldn't be read, "I was writing the warden in charge of the facility where the Master is being held. I want to know if he's being treated properly. Now, if the Brigadier is going to be along-"
"How sweet!" she said, earning herself a small glare for interrupting him. He made a mental note to steal her afternoon snack later in revenge, wondering if she'd have something better than the fruit she'd brought last time. "I knew you were worrying over him. Why don't we just pop in and give him a visit. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you and you won't have to wait for a reply!"
For one moment, the Doctor wondered how much of her naivete was an act and how much she really knew. There was just the slightest glint in her eyes as she mentioned a reply letter that put him on guard. However, now that she had mentioned it, he had just been considering such a thing before his fantasy had taken over. With his free hand, he rubbed his chin absently in thought. Standing up, he put the papers on the inside pocket of his jacket and reached for his over coat. "It does sound like a splendid idea, Jo. Do you suppose if we left now the Brigadier would miss us?"
His assistant just smiled innocently up at him, looking all together far too pleased at the change of plans. "Oh, I'd love to see the look on his face!"
While privately he agreed with her and that had been the exact reason for making such a comment, he did give her a slightly reproachful look as she went after her own coat. "Now, Jo, you should have more respect for your commanding officer." Once she'd gotten her purse, she stuck her tongue out at him in a cheeky manner that made him smile in spite himself. "Come along then," he said, thinking back to the papers in his breast pocket. "Let's go see how the Master is faring. Maybe he'll be up for a bout of fencing, if they allow that sort of exercise."
~FINI~
Memory: Yes, I am shameless for using that as an excuse to write a fight scene. Does it bother me? Not in the slightest. <3
Anyway, have a quote of the fic. It's rather fitting for this one...
"Using a sword is like sex. It's all a matter of balance, leverage and timing."
-Bob Anderson
no subject
Date: 2011-03-09 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-09 01:47 am (UTC)