Tracey hated Christmas. Well, no, she didnât really care. She wouldnât have cared at all if it werenât such a thing to everyone around her. Most holidays were easy enough. You politely declined joining in with celebrations, said âitâs not my thing,â and people left you alone. But NO, you couldnât do that with this holiday, especially not when everyone who knew you knew that you didnât have family and were living a whole ocean away from your hometown.
So she told everyone she had plans. Sorry, she couldnât go to your weird little family get-together with the paper crowns, she had plans. And to be fair, Tracey did have plans. That those plans mostly included locking herself in her flat and binge-watching the old Scifi Channelâs Dune series, well, that was nobodyâs business but hers.
Excuse me? Do you know where the next station is?
Tracey paused mid-step and blinked at the owner of the voice. She adjusted her backpack slightly. It was full of supplies for her plans: nacho fixings, microwave popcorn, and a bottle of tequila. She wasnât exactly expecting trouble, but she knew that such things often happened when you werenât expecting them and a heavy bag often made for a good defense.
âYou looking for a subway or a bus?â she drawled back. Then she smirked playfully at him. âNice hoodie, by the way.â And it was. It matched her own, plain black and probably warm as hell.
The Master snorted a chuckle at the strangerâs remark at his outfit. Stolen. Not his first choice, but the best he could do to keep a low profile and blend in. And blending in he did. Judging by how the young woman wore a similar style hoodie and was also commenting on it. Good. At least something was going according to plan.
The corner of his mouth was tugged back into a semblance of a smile and he nodded appreciatively. âRailway station,â he explained himself. After his failed resurrection, the subsequent explosion and the fine streak of murders, he needed a strategic retreat if he didnât want Torchwood or UNIT ruining his party.
âCoach station would do. Anything to get me out of this miserable town drowning in decadent christmas spirit.â