Tweet
"Hiding in plain sight," the Master whispered to his wife. "That's the way to do it. I do like a nice game of hide-and-seek." He squeezed his helpmeet's dainty hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
She smiled. Her husband was so awfully clever. She kissed him back, giving him a proper snog. She really was the luckiest girl in Britain.
They were sitting side-by-side on an ornate sofa in Downing Street, waiting to be called in to see the Prime Minister. A plain clothes policeman was sitting in the room with them. He smiled at the couple. He was looking forward to protecting them. Drumming on his thigh, his mind wandered to Britain's future. Bright, happy, safe. He couldn't wait til tomorrow.
The Master looked at him and gave him a broad grin. "Thomas, isn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"Watch much telly, Thomas?"
"Sometimes, yes, when I get a chance."
"Did you see Doctor Who on Saturday?"
Thomas blushed. "Heh, yes sir. My little son loves it."
The Master leaned forward. "What did you make of Mr Saxon? Scary villain, eh?"
"Terrifying. My son?heh?he warned me not to come in to work today, in case Mr Saxon got me!" The policeman chuckled.
The Master and his wife laughed along with him. Was there a slightly manic tone to the laughter? Thomas shook off the thought.
"Perhaps you should be worried?" The Master gave a wink. "Puny human!"
"Hah, good one sir," laughed the policeman. It's funny, he thought. Never thought this new bloke would have such a sense of humour. Never used to?not til the last few weeks, it seemed.
A door opened further down the hall, and a young man in a suit came out. The Master and his wife stood.
"The Prime Minister is ready to see you both now," said the young man.
"Fantastic!" said the Master.
Inside an elegant room, the Prime Minister was waiting for them, his wife at his side. He gave the Master a broad smile.
"Oh, hallo Gordon!" he said, holding out his hand. "Hallo Sarah."
"Tony!" said the Master, pumping the Prime Minister's hand eagerly. "Fancy seeing you here!"
The Prime Minister laughed. "Of all the official residences in all the world, you had to walk into mine!"
The Master pinched Tony's cheek. "Here's lookin at you, kid!"
Cherie and Sarah shook hands, all smiles. Somewhere deep in Cherie's mind, she felt there was something strange happening?Tony and Gordon were never like this?
Tony invited them all to sit down. The Master took an armchair next to the Prime Minister, as the women chatted amicably.
"I've got something for you. Little token of my friendship and appreciation," said the Master. He held out his hand and dropped something into the Prime Minister's waiting palm.
Tony inspected the object. An ancient fob watch, covered in squiggly lines and symbols. "Er?thanks."
"It's sort of a family heirloom. Only found it again a few weeks ago after losing it for, ooh, ages." The Master grinned. "Out with the old, in with the new."
"Quite," said Tony. Looking into Gordon's deep brown eyes, he felt calm and safe. The future of Britain would be a glorious one under his old friend's guidance, he felt sure of that. He thought, perhaps, that he hadn't always felt that way?he was pretty sure he'd been reluctant to hand over power for a while?but now? "Things can only get better!" he said. "I have faith in you, Gordon. I know you'll do a fantastic job."
"Oh yes," said the Master. He looked over at his wife and gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible wink. "I'm going to do such wonderful things. Britain will never be the same again."
They chatted happily, talking over tomorrow's handover, finessing the details, and reminiscing. After a jolly hour, the Master excused himself and his wife.
"I'm afraid we'll have to go. Another meeting. You know how it is. Busy, busy!"
After Gordon left, Tony felt rather sad. Having him there was the most wonderful feeling. He drummed his hands on the arm of his chair, and daydreamed of a perfect future for the country.
An hour later, the Master was in the Ivy. His dining companion was a tall, affable-looking man with spectacles and an enthusiastic tone of voice.
"I can't thank you enough, Gordon," he said. "I must say, this has to be a first? when you called, I thought it was some crazed fan pulling a stunt!"
"Oh, but I am a fan," said the Master.
"I mean, we don't usually take unsolicited script ideas but?really. It was perfect. And the ratings went through the roof!" The man hardly realized he was drumming his fingers on the table, making his wine glass rattle.
The Master waved off the compliment with a modest hand gesture. "I only hope that the fans enjoyed it?and took away a useful?message."
The wine glass continued to tinkle as the tapping continued.
"It was genius!" said the man. "Especially the drum motif!"
"Oh, Russell," said the Master. "You're too kind." He smiled. "I was just adhering to the old adage?write what you know." He raised his wineglass.
"Cheers!"
"To the next Prime Minister of Great Britain!" said Russell.
"To me," said the Master, as a slow grin spread over his face. World domination?just a day away.
But at a table not far away, a man was watching the prime-minister-in-waiting with a steely glare. He knew that wasn't really Gordon Brown. He'd sensed something over the past few weeks?and now he knew. His old enemy was back.
He felt in his pocket and fingered his own fob watch that nestled there. Until a week ago, he'd been living another man's life. But now he was back to his old self. Just in time, it seemed.
He turned to his wife. "Listen?I've got something to tell you."
His wife pursed her lips. "It's not another woman is it, because that would hardly be a surprise?"
"No," he said. "But, I think it's probably better if I show you. Otherwise, I doubt you'd believe me."
They settled their bill and left the restaurant. His wife kept asking questions, but he put a finger to his lips. "I think you're going to like this," he said, with an endearing grin.
In a dark alleyway behind the restaurant, there was a blue police phone box.
"What is it?"
"It's who I really am," he replied. "Come in."
He led his wife by the hand, through the door. Once inside, his wife gazed around in wonder. She turned to him. "Boris Johnson?who ARE you?"
The blonde man grinned. "I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor Who?"
The Doctor just smiled. Being himself again was wonderful. He looked around the TARDIS with a fond expression.
But, honestly, old girl. he said, to the machine. Creating the Boris persona?I don't know how anyone ever believed someone that ridiculous could be a real person.
"Well, darling," he said to his wife, who was still staring around in bewilderment. "It's time for us to save the world from New Labour. You game?"
She smiled. Her husband was so awfully clever. She kissed him back, giving him a proper snog. She really was the luckiest girl in Britain.
They were sitting side-by-side on an ornate sofa in Downing Street, waiting to be called in to see the Prime Minister. A plain clothes policeman was sitting in the room with them. He smiled at the couple. He was looking forward to protecting them. Drumming on his thigh, his mind wandered to Britain's future. Bright, happy, safe. He couldn't wait til tomorrow.
The Master looked at him and gave him a broad grin. "Thomas, isn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"Watch much telly, Thomas?"
"Sometimes, yes, when I get a chance."
"Did you see Doctor Who on Saturday?"
Thomas blushed. "Heh, yes sir. My little son loves it."
The Master leaned forward. "What did you make of Mr Saxon? Scary villain, eh?"
"Terrifying. My son?heh?he warned me not to come in to work today, in case Mr Saxon got me!" The policeman chuckled.
The Master and his wife laughed along with him. Was there a slightly manic tone to the laughter? Thomas shook off the thought.
"Perhaps you should be worried?" The Master gave a wink. "Puny human!"
"Hah, good one sir," laughed the policeman. It's funny, he thought. Never thought this new bloke would have such a sense of humour. Never used to?not til the last few weeks, it seemed.
A door opened further down the hall, and a young man in a suit came out. The Master and his wife stood.
"The Prime Minister is ready to see you both now," said the young man.
"Fantastic!" said the Master.
Inside an elegant room, the Prime Minister was waiting for them, his wife at his side. He gave the Master a broad smile.
"Oh, hallo Gordon!" he said, holding out his hand. "Hallo Sarah."
"Tony!" said the Master, pumping the Prime Minister's hand eagerly. "Fancy seeing you here!"
The Prime Minister laughed. "Of all the official residences in all the world, you had to walk into mine!"
The Master pinched Tony's cheek. "Here's lookin at you, kid!"
Cherie and Sarah shook hands, all smiles. Somewhere deep in Cherie's mind, she felt there was something strange happening?Tony and Gordon were never like this?
Tony invited them all to sit down. The Master took an armchair next to the Prime Minister, as the women chatted amicably.
"I've got something for you. Little token of my friendship and appreciation," said the Master. He held out his hand and dropped something into the Prime Minister's waiting palm.
Tony inspected the object. An ancient fob watch, covered in squiggly lines and symbols. "Er?thanks."
"It's sort of a family heirloom. Only found it again a few weeks ago after losing it for, ooh, ages." The Master grinned. "Out with the old, in with the new."
"Quite," said Tony. Looking into Gordon's deep brown eyes, he felt calm and safe. The future of Britain would be a glorious one under his old friend's guidance, he felt sure of that. He thought, perhaps, that he hadn't always felt that way?he was pretty sure he'd been reluctant to hand over power for a while?but now? "Things can only get better!" he said. "I have faith in you, Gordon. I know you'll do a fantastic job."
"Oh yes," said the Master. He looked over at his wife and gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible wink. "I'm going to do such wonderful things. Britain will never be the same again."
They chatted happily, talking over tomorrow's handover, finessing the details, and reminiscing. After a jolly hour, the Master excused himself and his wife.
"I'm afraid we'll have to go. Another meeting. You know how it is. Busy, busy!"
After Gordon left, Tony felt rather sad. Having him there was the most wonderful feeling. He drummed his hands on the arm of his chair, and daydreamed of a perfect future for the country.
An hour later, the Master was in the Ivy. His dining companion was a tall, affable-looking man with spectacles and an enthusiastic tone of voice.
"I can't thank you enough, Gordon," he said. "I must say, this has to be a first? when you called, I thought it was some crazed fan pulling a stunt!"
"Oh, but I am a fan," said the Master.
"I mean, we don't usually take unsolicited script ideas but?really. It was perfect. And the ratings went through the roof!" The man hardly realized he was drumming his fingers on the table, making his wine glass rattle.
The Master waved off the compliment with a modest hand gesture. "I only hope that the fans enjoyed it?and took away a useful?message."
The wine glass continued to tinkle as the tapping continued.
"It was genius!" said the man. "Especially the drum motif!"
"Oh, Russell," said the Master. "You're too kind." He smiled. "I was just adhering to the old adage?write what you know." He raised his wineglass.
"Cheers!"
"To the next Prime Minister of Great Britain!" said Russell.
"To me," said the Master, as a slow grin spread over his face. World domination?just a day away.
But at a table not far away, a man was watching the prime-minister-in-waiting with a steely glare. He knew that wasn't really Gordon Brown. He'd sensed something over the past few weeks?and now he knew. His old enemy was back.
He felt in his pocket and fingered his own fob watch that nestled there. Until a week ago, he'd been living another man's life. But now he was back to his old self. Just in time, it seemed.
He turned to his wife. "Listen?I've got something to tell you."
His wife pursed her lips. "It's not another woman is it, because that would hardly be a surprise?"
"No," he said. "But, I think it's probably better if I show you. Otherwise, I doubt you'd believe me."
They settled their bill and left the restaurant. His wife kept asking questions, but he put a finger to his lips. "I think you're going to like this," he said, with an endearing grin.
In a dark alleyway behind the restaurant, there was a blue police phone box.
"What is it?"
"It's who I really am," he replied. "Come in."
He led his wife by the hand, through the door. Once inside, his wife gazed around in wonder. She turned to him. "Boris Johnson?who ARE you?"
The blonde man grinned. "I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor Who?"
The Doctor just smiled. Being himself again was wonderful. He looked around the TARDIS with a fond expression.
But, honestly, old girl. he said, to the machine. Creating the Boris persona?I don't know how anyone ever believed someone that ridiculous could be a real person.
"Well, darling," he said to his wife, who was still staring around in bewilderment. "It's time for us to save the world from New Labour. You game?"
