for best_served_hot | I wake up first, and I stare at you sleeping

[rude_not_ginger]

Follows this.

The lift seemed smaller now. Maybe it was the knowledge how little time was left. Maybe it was the attitude that had changed between them since they first rode up to the room with the stars.

Maybe it was the weight of all of the things they weren't saying. Sometimes that weight would suffocate the Doctor when he was awake and alone.

The scrambling device was on again, keeping the cameras in the lift blind as to their actions. The immature side of the Doctor wanted to make a face at the cameras, simply because the Valeyard couldn't see. He didn't, of course. He just stood there, waiting.

"What will you tell him?" he asked.

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[rude_not_ginger]

The Doctor stopped and looked back at the Master, a splash of envy across his face.

"What was it like?"

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"Would you like me to show you?"

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"Yes." He did, immensely. More than immensely. He wanted to see it, he wanted to know how beautiful it was. But he shook his head.

"Not yet," he said. "You can show me when this is finished. We'll go there together."

The risk of the Valeyard seeing anything was too great. The Doctor had to make sure that he didn't put the Master at any more of a risk than necessary.

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"Right," he said, giving a nod. "When it's finished."

The Master began to walk again, they were almost at the door. He pushed it open once they arrived, gave him a smile, and swept his arm out into the room.

"After you, dear."

[rude_not_ginger]

He let out a little half-laugh and stepped into the room. This was the Valeyard's room in every sense of the word, and there was very little of it that was the Doctor at all. It wasn't like the bouncy, springy room that made him smile. This room made him tired.

He held up the scotch and uncorked it, taking another long drink.

"Almost finished."

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"The tea will have gone cold by now," he said, looking at the tray discarded by the bed on the nightstand.

"I'll bring a fresh brew next time."

[rude_not_ginger]

"He'll be more careful next time," the Doctor warned. "Might try to get you to open up more about...I don't know. Anything."

He reached out a hand and put it on the Master's arm. "Just be careful."

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"I know," he says. "I don't plan on entertaining him very much at all. I'm quite busy."

He looked down at the hand on his arm, but didn't pull away.

"Don't worry about me."

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"You're all I've got left, Master," the Doctor replied. "Believe me, I'm going to worry."

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The Master didn't say anything to that, but did move away from the Doctor's hand. He went over to the bed, and flopped back against the pillows, taking note of the weight of the butter knife in his pocket still.

He'd need that eventually.

[rude_not_ginger]

The Doctor watched him walk over to the bed and shook his head.

"Honestly, are you just looking to have him attack you, Master?" he asked with a sad sigh. "You should go."

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"Honestly," he mocked, crossing his arms behind his head for a moment.

"Are you going to stand around and patronize me for all the rest of the time? I have a plan, it's a very good plan. I like it."

Which should actually be what the Doctor is worrying about.

[rude_not_ginger]

"Yeah, your excitement is part of my worry," the Doctor replied, crossing his arms. He headed over to the bed and flopped down in the spot next to the Master. This was, after all, his own bed. He stared up at the words the Valeyard had written for him.

"Give him hell this next week," he said.

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"Ohh, you always like to spoil my good moods." The Master smiled wickedly, looking over as the Doctor flopped against the mattress.

"I intend to."

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"Do I? I thought I was part of them," he said, grinning over at him. "And you'd better."

He took in a breath. His eyelids felt heavy.

"Not long," he warned.

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"More ego stroking already? You're so needy," he muttered, giving a long-suffering sigh, even though he was mostly teasing.

He watched him, one hand slipping into his pocket, and sliding the dull butter knife out into his hand. He kept it out of the Doctor's line of sight though.

"Rest well, Doctor."

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"Good night, Master," the Doctor said.

His eyes slipped shut. He let the energy slide from him, and let himself fall into a very deep sleep.

His eyes opened. He blinked at the words on the ceiling and a slow, cruel grin spread across his face. Funny, why did he taste alcohol on his tongue?

He turned his head to suddenly see a very awake person in the bed next to him.

"Master?"

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"Oh, good morning," said the Master, giving a slow smile. "I wanted to pop in and see how things were going."

He shifted slightly on the bed, sitting up, and closer to the Valeyard. He leaned over to get a look at the Valeyard's hand, feigning interest.

"How's the hand doing? Better, I hope."

[rude_not_ginger]

The Valeyard looked over at his hand. Patched up, oddly enough. Where did the Doctor get the equipment to fix it? And, more importantly---

"How did you get in here...?"

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"I let myself in. And I was feeling a bit peckish, so I let myself into the kitchen," he said, still not moving away from how close he'd shifted.

"And the storerooms. And the medical bay."

He grinned again, widely, and leaned in a bit further. "Your hand?"

He reached out with his empty one in an attempt to take it.

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Still a little disorientated, the Valeyard handed his hand over without a second thought.

"But there was a chain on the door, and guards---"

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The Master was completely giddy on the inside, though he kept his features mostly schooled, but only mostly.

"Oh, that's much better. Almost completely healed," he said, before softly tsking the other Time Lord.

"The Doctor knows better than to assume I am not his enemy," he said, his other hand holding the knife thrusting out to embed in the Valeyard's previously injured hand.

"But it seems to be a lesson I have to teach to you. Are you understanding any of it yet? Pay attention, there will be questions later."

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The Valeyard cried out in alarm and pain as the knife went through his palm. He didn't think, he just reacted. He reached across at the offending person and swung to punch him with his uninjured hand.

"How dare you!"

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He leaned back to try and dodge the hit, letting go of the hand that held the knife with a parting twist, and moved to slide off the bed away from the Valeyard.

"I'll dare a lot now that I don't have to hide my intentions from you anymore. How does it feel? Am I challenging enough for you yet?

[rude_not_ginger]

He got to his feet and pulled the knife out of his hand.

"I should cut off your arms for that. I've done far worse to far better people." He leaned over the Master, his face twisted into a smirk. "Ask the Doctor what happened to Martha Jones."