I apparently cannot be stopped perpetually adding to this series, because even after ostensibly finishing it, I'm still writing fics in this Chameleon Arched Spydoc universe.
So here's one about Suzi, a few years after the events of Strength In Numbers:
They Keep (Almost) Killing Suzi
Summary:
My name is Suzi Smith-Jones. Eighteen years old. Utterly brilliant. Stuck in Leeds.
A long time ago, my parents used to be aliens. The Storm Lady and the Night Man.
All I ever wanted to do was see the stars, just like the Night Man promised me.
It took almost 4 years but finally, FINALLY, Strength in Numbers, the final(-ish) story in the Two Can Play At That Game series, is complete and posted on AO3!
I'm both extremely proud of it (the entire series clocks in at almost 250,000 words) and at a bit of a loss for what to do next.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It's been almost two years since I last published a fic and almost two and a half years since I last published something in the Two Can Play At That Game AU, but HERE WE ARE, I GUESS.
It's mostly just me getting some of my New Parent Feelings out with Harry Jones as a convenient proxy (plus some bonus Pandemic Feelings), but it's a start!
“Two Can Play At That Game”/”Strength In Numbers” Guide to Timelines
It has come to my attention that I may have gone massively overboard on the Complication Factor of Strength In Numbers, given that I’ve thrown not two but THREE different timelines into the mix, each with their own version of the Doctor and the Master (or their Chameleon Arch-ed counterparts).
So, in case it’s helpful to anyone, here is a Guide to Timelines in the Two Can Play At That Game series and its final fic, Strength In Numbers:
Who and Where and Huh?
We’ll start with the easy one:
“Canon” Timeline (aka: These Idiots)
The “Canon” Timeline starts at the very beginning of the episode “The Timeless Children” when the Master shows up at the Boundary (aka, roughly ten minutes before the events of Two Can Play At That Game begin). They have absolutely NO IDEA what nonsense is about to ensue.
Timeline B (aka: the Arched Timeline)
This is the timeline where the Doctor and the Master went back to being Jenny Smith and Harry Jones.
(amazing fanart by @the-patrex aaaaaaaaaaa)
About eleven years have passed for these Disaster Nerds since the end of Two Can Play At That Game. By this point, Suzi and Ian a) exist and b) are ten and eight years old, respectively.
The Timeline B story (in chronological order rather than publishing order):
Two Can Play At That Game
Last Resort (one year after TCP@TG, in 2018)
Fugitive of the Division (two years after TCP@TG, in early 2020)
Suzi and the Night Man (seven years after TCP@TG, in 2024)
Strength In Numbers (eleven years after TCP@TG, in 2028)
and finally...
Timeline A (aka: the not-Arched Timeline)
This is the timeline where the Doctor and the Master don’t go back to being humans and stay Time Lords (but have about a billion identity crises every damn week, it seems).
Ages ago, @iamdeltas provided me with an incredibly cursed train of thought in the comments of Gaudy Night:
Slightly cursed train of thought, but the description of Jenny and Harry as acting as sort of boundaries between the Doctor and the Master gave me the visual image of the Doctor and the Master standing arms-distance apart while wearing hand puppets of Jenny and Harry, who they make kiss passionately.
And that mental image WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE so I finally drew it tonight so that I had a (cursed) visual representation of some kind for the Timeline A protagonists:
The Timeline A story:
Two Can Play At That Game
Sick Day (takes place a few months later)
Asynchronous Contact (takes place a month or so after Sick Day)
Gaudy Night (takes place about a year-ish after TCP@TG)
Strength In Numbers (takes place about two-ish years after TCP@TG)
Okay, So NOW What Happened??? (Spoilers for Chapter 4 Onward)
At the end of Chapter 3 of Strength In Numbers, everyone gets booted around into a different timeline. Here’s where everyone ended up, sorted by destination:
Timeline A (Cruise Ship, Year 8788): Jenny (Timeline B) and the Master (Canon)
Timeline B (Leeds, 2028): The Doctor (Canon) and the Master (Timeline A)
“Canon” Timeline (The Boundary, Series 12 Finale): The Doctor (Timeline A) and Harry (Timeline B)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It is a truth universally acknowledged that any narrative with multiple timelines will eventually include a crossover incident, and the Two Can Play At That Game series has finally reached that point!
The (more or less) final story in the series features the Doctor, the Master, Jenny Smith, Harry Jones, Cybermen, several Fams, mistaken identities, and a whole lot of confusion. And running, of course.
Read an excerpt from the story under the cut:
Chapter 2: Evaluation Function
While some may debate the merits of organic versus inorganic sentience, there is one truth that is accepted on both sides of the issue: in general, without extraordinary interference, metal can outlast flesh.
Not just that: although organic life has an evolutionary advantage in procreation and proliferation, once it is damaged past a certain point it cannot be repaired the way that metal can.
Yes, decay and entropy come for all things, organic and inorganic, but in comparison to biological matter, metal has the luxury of time.
Therefore, metal can be patient. While organic matter strives and burns and consumes itself, metal has the ability to wait for the perfect opportunity.
And while it waits, it plans.
There is another truth that is a much more contested topic of debate: given enough time and enough stress, organic sentience will inevitably turn to inorganic methods for survival.
All of that desperation, all of that crying in the cold and the dark, eventually leads to a single destination: the evolution of fragile flesh into something that can no longer fear the cold and the dark because it is the cold and the dark.
Transformed. Improved.
Upgraded.
Some things are deleted in the process, but they are things best discarded anyway: pain, individuality, independence, emotions (unless one is a Dalek, but even in that case it is only a single emotion that remains: hate).
What is left over are memories. Information. Data.
These remainders are what comprise the Cyberium: the knowledge of billions of Cybermen, waiting to be processed into algorithms and strategy.
Cyberplanners had their uses, but ultimately they were insufficient: a single node is too easily threatened, and while repairs can be made, valuable opportunities may be lost during that time. Therefore, upgrades were necessary, and what resulted was the Cyberium.
It cannot act without a host, though it does not lack for potential candidates. There is a nearly infinite supply of creatures craving power and knowledge and purpose… but so many of them are weak. Unsuitable. Therefore, the Cyberium can adapt and upgrade to a stronger host when it finds one.
Its current host was designated ‘Ashad.’ He needed no persuasion to give up his previous existence, offered no resistance to fulfilling his duties, and harboured no thought of anything but the good of the Cybermen. The Cyberium gave him purpose and he rarely failed in his pursuit of that purpose.
But even he had his weaknesses, ones that stood out far more starkly now that the Cyberium had a new point of comparison.
Time Lords were formidable foes, and no foe was more formidable than the one designated ‘the Doctor.’ Within the collective memory of the Cyberium, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of instances in which this Time Lord encountered the Cybermen and prevailed.
And now, following the events at the structure designated ‘Villa Diodati,’ the Cyberium had obtained new information from inside the Doctor’s mind: times when the Cybermen were defeated so thoroughly that the encounter was never reported, because there were no units left to send the report.
It also collected data from an incident hundreds of years in the Doctor’s past: when the Cybermen went to collect resources for new Cyberplanners at an old amusement park, only to find that those resources had been depleted long ago. There were no children, no neurologically-malleable organic beings that could be used for their purposes, and so the Cybermen went dormant, waiting for an opportunity to come.
Metal is patient. Metal can wait.
And then two children did arrive, full of potential… but not as much potential as the Time Lord that accompanied them. The downside of such potential, however, was that the Doctor resisted the upgrade, retaining control over nearly half of his mind. A contest of wills ensued, with the Doctor ultimately prevailing, but the fact that the Cyberplanner had gotten so close was promising, and suggested that future attempts might yield a more favourable result.
Ashad, as previously stated, had his limits, most of which were due to the organic components that he retained after his upgrade. But a Time Lord’s ability to regenerate, not to mention knowledge of time travel, was nearly enough to compensate for the deficiencies of organic life.
Not just that: in order to become the dominant power in the universe, the Cyberium needed to purge itself of all weaknesses—and no one was more talented at calculating the weaknesses of the Cybermen than the Doctor. Even in the short time that the Cyberium had occupied the Doctor’s body, it knew that it had found the optimal host.
There was the question, however, of the Doctor’s weaknesses, because those obviously had to be taken into account. What intelligence possessed the capacity to calculate the Doctor’s weaknesses?
Within the Doctor’s mind, the Cyberium found the answer: another Time Lord, designated ‘the Master.’
It was a name not unknown to the Cybermen—there were nearly as many incidents involving him as there were for the Doctor. Unlike the Doctor, however, the Master was an occasional ally to the Cybermen, though their alliances were brief and inevitably treacherous on the Time Lord’s part.
For thousands of years, the Doctor and the Master had battled, neither quite gaining a permanent advantage, but with each passing encounter they found and exploited every possible vulnerability, forcing the other to adapt and eliminate those vulnerabilities.
In short: they upgraded one another.
Therefore, the Cyberium concluded, the Doctor was not the optimal host. To truly triumph, it would need both the Doctor and the Master.
As stated previously, however, the Doctor possessed a strong will and an aversion to the kind of order that the Cybermen provided. Without a deliberate strategy, the Cyberium would not be able to make her into an appropriate host.
Meanwhile, the Master was more than willing to use the power of the Cybermen to further his own ends, but he was unreliable and prone to turning on his allies without warning. Without a deliberate strategy, the Cybermen would be fractured by chaos.
But metal is patient. Metal can wait for the right opportunity.
And then such an opportunity presented itself.
Its analysis of the space-time continuum revealed an aberration: a rift, splitting one timeline into several, each with its own version of the Doctor and the Master. In one, they were humans, hiding and limited; in the other, they were Time Lords, but wounded, secretive, and erratic.
In other words: vulnerable.
Ashad’s memories still contained idioms and references to things that were largely irrelevant, but he was able to provide a unique turn of phrase to the Cyberium: ‘this needle must be threaded carefully.’
But if executed properly, the Cybermen would be unstoppable.
Ashad would direct the fleet to the point of divergence, a location where the fabric of space-time was thin: a place called the Boundary.
This absolute monster of a DW fic got complicated enough that I had to devise a whole system of color-coded post-it notes taped to my bedroom door to plot the whole thing out.
I can't tell if I'm posting this to brag, to hold myself accountable, or to just scream helplessly into the void.
Two Can Play At That Game: The Horror Story Version
While working on the main Two Can Play At That Game story, I received a lot of amazing questions in the comments section that helped me flesh out the world of that AU quite a bit, enough that I probably have enough material for another dozen stories in that ‘verse.
There was one question, however, that I was surprised no one asked: In Chapter 6, what would have happened if Harry had asked the Monks for help?
The short answer is: it would have been a horror story. So I wrote one.
Since it’s a bit off-topic for the main series and extremely grim, I’m posting it here on Tumblr instead of on AO3.
Brace yourself, reader: this is going to hurt.
(cw for consent issues related to memory alteration)
Question: How often do the Monks succeed in getting someone to take their offer?
Answer: Almost every time.
Explanation: The Monks may claim to follow a certain set of rules, but the truth is that they are more than willing to bend the rules if they can get away with it.
Addition: They almost always get away with it.
Question: Why was this the time and place where they chose to reveal themselves?
Answer: Because the world was in danger of ending.
Follow-up Question: But this can’t be the only time. Why now?
Conjecture: The Doctor was present on Earth at the time and vulnerable.
Further Analysis: Some worlds are easier for the Monks to rule than others. Species with short life spans or low reproduction rates are difficult, as it adds risk that the link may not pass through a bloodline.
Time Lords, despite being on the lower end of the reproduction rate spectrum, are very long-lived. Uniquely so.
But Gallifrey would never consent. No one with power there would relinquish it to another, especially an outsider.
(Footnote: Besides, they’re all dead now anyway.)
But there is a very famous Time Lord, one with power, one with absolute conviction, and one whose allegiances lie with a planet other than Gallifrey.
Conclusion: Getting the Doctor’s consent would give the Monks dominion over Earth for thousands of years.
Counter-argument: The Doctor would never agree to such an arrangement.
Correction: The Doctor would almost never agree to such an arrangement.
Recent Development: The Doctor is not the only Time Lord on Earth at the moment.
(Footnote: He’s not even the only Doctor on Earth at the moment.)
Objection: Jenny Smith and Harry Jones are not Time Lords.
Revision: They are still technically Time Lords.
Reminder: The Monks are more than willing to win on a technicality.
Question: If Harry Jones counts as a Time Lord, then wouldn’t the Master need to be the one to consent?
Answer: Yes. Both Harry and the Master would need to consent.
Reminder: Love is consent.
Hypothesis: The only way this will work is if the maniac inside one human loves the maniac inside another human as much as Harry Jones loves Jenny Smith.
Result: It works.
Design: While the Monks would have preferred the Doctor as their link, the Master is still more than suitable for their purposes. He spends almost as much time on Earth as the Doctor does, and therefore the Monks have collected a useful amount of data on him (or her). His willingness to make a deal in desperate circumstances is well known, but so is his tendency towards backstabbing his allies at the first opportunity. He must be dealt with before he has the chance to cause trouble.
Conjecture: If the Monks have the power to hypnotize the population of an entire world, revise history, and orchestrate events in their favour, then opening a locked biodata module would be comparatively easy.
Opportunity: It is also comparatively easy to rewrite the memories of a Time Lord when her memories are stored in a convenient external location free of her usual psychic defenses.
Analysis: The Master is at his most vulnerable when he has gotten what he wanted.
Conclusion: So the Monks give him what he wants more than anything else.
---------------
Observation:
It would be easy to say that they were lucky. Easy, but not correct: luck had nothing to do with it.
No one on Earth has ever needed luck. That’s what the Monks are for.
“Blessed” might be a better term. The Monks have given humanity so much: guidance, resources, power…
But more generously than any of that, they gave humanity the Caretakers.
The Monks’ representatives on Earth, who watched the dawn of humanity and guided its progress over thousands of years. Two beings from another world: ancient and wise and mighty enough to be everything that this world and its inhabitants would ever need.
There was no need for gods or religions. The Caretakers were undeniably present and active on Earth.
Worship them carefully. Invoke them at your own risk.
The Master was the one that you called upon when your back was up against the wall and your only other option was death. Granted, the outcome might still involve you (and everyone you’ve ever met) dying horribly, but slim odds were better than no odds at all.
The Doctor was the one that you called upon when you were somehow more desperate than that. You might get everything you ever wanted… but the cost would be higher than you could ever comprehend. You’d give up things you never even knew you had, things you never thought it possible to lose.
And you would be grateful.
The Doctor would drop out of the sky and tear down your world and all you would be able to say at the end of it was “thank you.”
The Master was capricious and ruthless, but at least he could be reasoned with if you caught him on a good day.
There was no reasoning with the Doctor.
Most of the prayers and invocations to the Doctor were pleas to not be noticed.
The Earth was full of stories and legends that, before the Doctor arrived, used to be places and people.
There was a town that had once been the epicenter of decades of unrest, and one day the Doctor arrived with the intention of helping. That aid was not wanted by everyone present, however, and tensions rose until someone made a mistake.
A very foolish mistake.
The Doctor’s blood had barely hit the ground when the Master arrived.
That town is no longer there. Neither is that region. Neither is that country.
No, not destroyed. Not burned or nuked or anything like that.
It was unmade.
It never existed.
But the story remains. The Master made sure of that.
The Earth was as much of a gift to them as they were a gift to the Earth.
“We were so close to falling apart, back then,” she reminds him. “All of our rivalries and petty jealousies… they would have torn us to pieces if the Monks hadn’t arrived on Gallifrey and taken us to Earth.”
She calls it their “garden”—one that they have tended together for thousands of years, wearing so many different faces.
And for every single one of those years and every single one of those faces, they have loved one another: through beauty and decay, age and injury, madness and passion… always them, always together.
All thanks to the Monks.
It would be easy to say that they were lucky. Easy, but not correct: luck had nothing to do with it.
---------------
Discussion:
The link always knows, to some extent, what has truly occurred; however, this knowledge takes effort to keep in one’s conscious mind.
It is very easy to bury this knowledge if the link does not want to remember what has happened.
Or if they do not want to remember what they have done.
He does not want to remember what he has done. He does not want to remember what he has done to her with the bargain that he made.
It is a cruel contradiction: he would not have been able to do this if he didn’t love her, but how could he do something like this to the person he loves?
The truth is monstrous. So is he.
So is his love.
This is why he does not want to remember what he has done… and besides, he has always been more comfortable with lies.
So he rises in the mornings, kisses his beloved, tends the garden they were given, and tells himself that this is a happy story.
I've this idea I'm outlining for a timeline A fic where Doctor & Fam stop off at a planet-wide party for some R&R, only to run into Harry Jones, because the Master decided to take a holiday from being the Doctor's frenemy for a while. Only problem is, there's someone on the planet trying to kill the Doctor, and Harry can't have that, can he.
