If you have time, 14 for Doctor/Master please :)
‘Overgrown’
“Huh,” the Doctor muses to himself aloud. “I’d forgotten this was even here.”
The TARDIS had a few gardens, he knew that, but he honestly had a hard time keeping up with exactly how many, and where. Rooms had a habit of changing and moving and merging almost at random, and there were parts of his ship he hadn’t visited in years.
The room he’s currently in is very much reminiscent of a botanical garden greenhouse, plants of all kinds, from all different planets, lining the winding paths. It is somewhat overgrown though, which is understandable given that he can’t remember the last time he even visited. The room itself may ultimately be self-sustaining, but the trees can’t really trim themselves. Tendrils and creepers spill onto the pathways while taller branches from either side meet overhead, blocking out the artificial light.
The Doctor hears the soft sound of lapping water nearby, and follows it until he finds a pond, its surface dotted with enormous lily pads and white flowers that give off a sweet smell almost like pineapple. As he wanders past, further into the garden, he tries to listen past the buzz of insects and the chirp of birds, because the Master is in here somewhere, but the Doctor has yet to see any sign of him.
He’s not worried, exactly. If anything he’s closer to annoyed, given that the Master has been avoiding him for two days. And the Doctor will normally leave him alone when he’s in such a mood, but the TARDIS had alerted him to the Master’s location, with a gentle suggestion that he had best go find him. She usually only did so when the Master was in particularly bad shape, mentally and/or emotionally, or when he had done something more dangerous and destructive than usual.
Given his chosen location, he might be planning to poison him again.
(He’d done it once. Nothing too deadly, just something slipped into his tea that had left him weak and dizzy and collapsed on the kitchen floor.
“Just a reminder,” the Master had said, kissing him on the cheek before wandering off and leaving him there.
He hadn’t tried to steal the TARDIS, or even leave it, but the Doctor had understood the message all the same. Not that he hadn’t before, but the Master seemed reluctant to take him at his word, preferring instead breaking things and semi-gentle, semi-murder attempts as a way of letting the Doctor know he was not to be considered weak or a prisoner.)
The Doctor keeps following the path, eventually reaching a secluded corner with a stone bench tucked away beneath overhanging branches. He stops short when he notices an open book lying face down in the dirt, and rushes forward when he spots what looks like a body half-hidden in the bushes behind it.
It’s the Master, he knows immediately. The other Time Lord’s eyes are closed, and for a moment the Doctor panics, before quickly noticing that they’re deliberately screwed shut and that the Master is still very much breathing, tension clear on his face.
Dark green vines lead from deeper in the foliage to wrap around the Master’s body. Two have wrapped around his legs, from his ankles to his thighs, while others curl over his torso, his arms, even his neck. From the scuffmarks in the dirt, the Doctor can tell he’s been dragged.
Dropping to his knees beside him, the Doctor reaches out. The Master’s eyes open at his touch, and while they are glazed, they’re mostly aware. He’s blinking sluggishly though, and the fingers that tug at the hem of his trousers are weak.
“Are you okay?” the Doctor asks, and the answering glare is as good as an answer.
He flinches as he feels something brush against his ankle, looking down to see another emerging vine reaching for him. It’s slow moving, but the Doctor edges back all the same. Rising to his feet, he pushes past the tangle of branches to find the rest of the plant.
The thing is huge, taller than him at least, with multiple purple-red leaf flaps curled in on one another. Around a dozen long vines of various thicknesses trail from the opening in the center, most pointed towards him, but a few leading off in other directions, searching for food elsewhere.
It’s stunning, utterly beautiful, even if the smell isn’t quite as nice, and even if it is currently trying to eat the Master.
“Carnivorous plant,” he tells said Time Lord when he returns to his side. “Sap contains a toxin that dazes, and in large enough doses, paralyses pray, allowing it to, well, catch and eat anything that wanders close enough.”
“I wasn’t wandering,” the Master says slowly, eyes flicking down to where the Doctor is scanning the vine around his right leg with the sonic screwdriver. “I was sitting and reading.”
“Did you touch it though?”
“It touched me.”
“Absorbed through the skin. Right, okay.” The Doctor scratches at his jaw while he thinks it through. Trying to force the vines loose poses the risk of them reflexively constricting and snapping the Master’s bones, even possibly his neck. He fiddles with the settings on the sonic screwdriver, looking for one that’s likely to work.
“I should have stayed in the library. Why do you even have a giant carnivorous plant in here anyway?”
“You’ll be fine.” He pats the Master hip before pressing the end of the sonic against the vine wrapped around his stomach. The vine trembles when he switches it on, but it doesn’t clamp down like the Doctor feared it might. He flicks the sonic up a notch and watches as the vine slowly starts to unwind.
“Come on,” he says a little louder, turning his head and speaking in the direction of the body of the plant as he moves the sonic up to the vine at the Master’s neck. “You don’t want to eat him, do you, you beautiful thing? He’ll taste terrible. Trust me, you’re better off looking elsewhere.”
“Rude,” the Master murmurs. “I’d taste great. That stupid plant would be lucky to eat me.”
“Would you stop, please?”
