"I'm not locking you up as punishment. You're right, I'm not a jailer. But I can't trust you not to hurt someone again, so I'll have to keep you from it." The Doctor smiled, if it could be called that. It certainly didn't reach his eyes. "I hope I can trust you enough to at least let you roam about the TARDIS freely soon."
It was true, actually, as idealistic and naive as it sounded. The way his hearts broke when the Master had been dead in his arms... He never wanted to feel like that again. The Doctor stopped next to a door and opened it for the Master and Jack, catching Jack's eyes. He didn't say anything, but the 'we can talk later' was definitely there. Then he turned to actually look into the room and his eyes widened, he quickly shut the door again. It had been about the size of a broom closet with no furniture and absolute darkness.
"Come on, old girl. Don't be petty." He waited a few moments, then opened the door again, this time peering in first. "Right, alright. There we go then."
This time the room was considerably bigger and there was a bed, bookshelves and even a desk and chair, as well as a door leading somewhere, presumably a bathroom.
Once the room was finished assembling itself, Jack peered over and into it. It was actually fairly nice. Nicer than anything he'd have given his prisoners in Cardiff, anyway. Especially the homicidal ones. He didn't even need the order to be given before Jack was untying the knots he'd done in the Master's bindings and shoving him toward the room. No reason to be gentle. After all, he wasn't exactly a "guest". Even the TARDIS thought so. That thought actually made him smile a little.
"You've practically got your own little flat here. Not bad." he said. Jack wasn't happy that the Master had been given so much when he hardly thought he deserved even the bed to sleep on.
The Master stumbled into the room, seething with anger and wishing he could escape and just go. He didn't want to be in this room, he didn't want to hear the Doctor talk down to him and he certainly didn't want to look at that freak any more. The lamp sitting on the soon met an unfortunate and ugly end when the Master threw it in the Doctor direction, unfortunately missing him entirely and just landing in the hallway, dented and half broken.
"I won't stay in here, I'm not your prisoner," the Master glared at the room, annoyed he'd missed the Doctor with his lamp. It didn't even match the décor of the room! "You're going to have to let me out eventually, I'm not just going to stay here."
The Doctor had held still when the lamp was thrown, watching the Master have his tantrum in silence. He parted his lips to say something, but finally he just shook his head and, without another word, shut the door. He used his screwdriver to lock it before turning and gathering up the lamp, considering it and then heading back down the hallway.
"Broken. But I think I can fix it." He was talking about the lamp. Mostly.
Jack frowned at the lamp, folding his arms and shaking his head. "I told you this was a bad idea," he said with a sullen voice. "I just hope you don't end up regretting it."
Jack reached out and pat the Doctor on the shoulder before turning to walk toward his room to sort out his thoughts. What a disaster.
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It was true, actually, as idealistic and naive as it sounded. The way his hearts broke when the Master had been dead in his arms... He never wanted to feel like that again. The Doctor stopped next to a door and opened it for the Master and Jack, catching Jack's eyes. He didn't say anything, but the 'we can talk later' was definitely there. Then he turned to actually look into the room and his eyes widened, he quickly shut the door again. It had been about the size of a broom closet with no furniture and absolute darkness.
"Come on, old girl. Don't be petty." He waited a few moments, then opened the door again, this time peering in first. "Right, alright. There we go then."
This time the room was considerably bigger and there was a bed, bookshelves and even a desk and chair, as well as a door leading somewhere, presumably a bathroom.
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"You've practically got your own little flat here. Not bad." he said. Jack wasn't happy that the Master had been given so much when he hardly thought he deserved even the bed to sleep on.
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"I won't stay in here, I'm not your prisoner," the Master glared at the room, annoyed he'd missed the Doctor with his lamp. It didn't even match the décor of the room! "You're going to have to let me out eventually, I'm not just going to stay here."
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"Broken. But I think I can fix it." He was talking about the lamp. Mostly.
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Jack reached out and pat the Doctor on the shoulder before turning to walk toward his room to sort out his thoughts. What a disaster.