pawnofrassilon | for an_adoring

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for an_adoring_wife

[Continuation from here.]

While Lucy fetches him the food, the Master amuses himself by scoping the vicinity for something to tide him over. She may never come back, after all, and a little snack won't spoil his appetite.

By the time she does come back, if she does, he's already found and caught a smartly dressed, deliciously overweight, banker on his lunch hour. He crouches over the carcass, preoccupied with getting every last bit of meat off the bone.

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Lucy finds him close to finishing his meal and stops short, dropping the shopping bag in her hand in shock. Her mouth is open slightly and she shudders as though she might vomit any moment. She stands and just stares for a long time, wide eyed, shocked and repulsed.

The Master raises his head at the sound of the bag dropping and turns halfway to stare at Lucy, all electrified tension. When he sees it's only her, his expression relaxes into a slow grin before he turns back to his kill.

"Come closer," he orders her between slurps, crunches and smacking sounds. "Show me what you've brought for me."

Lucy steps forward hesitantly, bending very slowly to pick up the bag before approaching the Master with caution. She avoids looking at the mess he's making of his 'dinner' and stares, instead, at the ground as she holds out the bag to him.

Because she is a civilised human being, and was somewhat unaware of the extent of the Master's cannibalistic insanity the bag is full of breads, cheeses, crisps, nuts, chocolates, sliced meats, cans of fizzy drinks, a bottle of wine, cakes, pastries, pasties, and a few other bits and pieces.

Lucy looks up to watch the Master carefully, to try and decipher his expression as he looks through the bag's contents,. The anxiety is all too visible on her face as she waits to see his reaction.

The Master finishes up with the banker, or what's left of him anyway. Sucking on the fingers of one hand, he turns to the bag and rifles through it with the other, smiling almost nostalgically as he pulls out the bottle of wine. Good year. Not that it matters much anymore.

"Ah, Lucy. You shouldn't have." He has to laugh, actually. What was she expecting-- a picnic? With him?

"I just thought... we used to like to...."

Lucy didn't even know what she was attempting to say anymore. To remind him of the moments they'd shared all that time ago? Those lies? ...

Her eyes accidentally fell on the picked remains of the Master's meal as she looked away from him - before she was able to stop herself she had turned away, doubled over, and vomited.

He may be hungry, always hungry, but even now the Master isn't too fond of the smell of vomit. He wrinkles his nose and glares at his former wife, shrinking back from the growing puddle at her feet. How dare she cringe from what she created?

"Things change," he snaps. "I'm sure you, of all people, realize that."

"I know, I'm sorry..." she said, standing straight and taking a deep breath to recover herself.

She looked at him - his greasey hair, his unshaven face, his dirty clothes.

"...Where are you living, Harry?"

The Master stares at her for a moment in disbelief, and then laughs out loud, spreading his arms to indicate the alley and the streets at large.

"Here! Where else would I be? Did you think the YMCA would take me in? Harold Saxon, former PM at large?"

Lucy hesitates, knowing she'll very much regret what she's about to say.

"There's a place I'm staying - a property my father bought and never got around to having it renovated. It's not much, but there's a roof and running water..."

He's cocked his head and narrowed his eyes as he listens to Lucy's dithering, finally cutting her off with another chuckle.

"Oh! You want to move in together! How sweet. Let's renew our vows while we're at it, hmmm?"

The Master rises to his feet and creeps toward her. "Remind me again-- what were they? 'Til Death Do Us Part'? Whose death will it be this time, I wonder?"

She stays where she is, not backing away, but turns her head aside as he comes close, not being able to meet his eye,

"I thought you might want somewhere more comfortable..."

She ignores the vows comment, knowing that whatever she says won't be the right answer anyway.

Unfortunately for Lucy, she's made the wrong move again.

"Look at me," he hisses, making a rough grab for her chin.

She draws in a sharp breath as he grabs her, trying for a split second to pull away, instinctively, but then she does as she's told and looks at him, eyes full of fear.

He smiles at her when she complies, a twisted smirk. "That's more like it," he murmurs.

"Oh, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy." The Master's lips are nearly close enough to brush against her own, and his breath smells primarily of iron. "Do you really think I can ever be 'comfortable' after what you've done to me?"

She swallows, trying to keep some sort of grip on herself, and even manages to look him in the eye.
"... We... we'll fix you.... We'll make you better, I promise..." she murmurs.

"You promise," the Master scoffs, but he seems satisfied for now and even pats the side of her face.

"Good girl."

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