Scampi

[The Master]

She made herself meet his eyes.

"You know what? I think you find it thrilling to be angry. I think you chew it like a cud and swallow it and bring it back up just so you can chew it again trying to remember what it tasted like when it was strong, never bothering to try to imagine what you're doing to the other beings around you."

"Is that really what you want to do with this new life you've found? Don't you understand what you've been given? A second chance. A real second chance, your life will be exactly what you make of it. It can be beautiful or ugly. Your choice."

The Master smiled thinly. "Of course I find it thrilling to be angry. For long centuries, anger gave me purpose. It gave me strength. It allowed me to survive, when any other Time Lord would have succumbed to a final and irrevocable death. Anger at the Council, and at all of the Time Lords, for what was done to me - to us. Anger at the Doctor, for his betrayal. Anger at..." he gestured, vaguely, "at the entire universe, eventually."

He sipped his wine. "Well, that and the madness of the Drums."

And then he fell silent, thinking. As he did, he poured himself another glass. "But," he mused aloud, "you ask if this is what I want."

Silence again, as he contemplated.

"I..." he began, voice thoughtful, "I'm not sure. Is that unusual?" His smile was humorless. "For nearly seven hundred years, hate and anger have been my raison d'etre. Not the lust for power that most would ascribe to my actions. Hate and anger."

He fell silent again. "Hate and anger, rage at the Council for what they did to us..." His voice trailed away, and he laughed. "No, I tell a lie. I'm quite good at that actually - I can even lie convincingly to myself. No, originally it was rage at the Council for shattering the world of my one-time brother."

His eyes were distant with memory again, and his voice was thoughtful. "Ah, Kamali. It would have broken your hearts to see him. To see her as well. I knew them both, and ended up trapped between them."

His fingers began to drum out a four-beat rhythm - dum dum dum DUM, dum dum dum DUM. "That was the final pebble in the avalanche, so to speak. We had spoken of it before, overthrowing the Council, crafting a new Gallifrey..."

He seemed to notice what his fingers were doing and, frowning, clenched his fist tight. "We failed," he said, softly. "The Doctor lost his nerve, at the last, and betrayed us." The emphasis was hurt and loss, not anger.

Silence again. The Master drew a deep breath and waved his hand. "Water under the bridge," he said with a humorless laugh. "But you ask, is this what I want?"

A shrug. "There is no point to it, not anymore. There is no High Council to rage against. There is no Gallifrey to conquer. There is only dust, and memories, and the last remnants of extinct glory."

Silence. "But it's all I have." There might have been a hint of sadness in his voice. "All I know."

Silence again. "I'm not certain I could change if I tried."

[Sarah Jane]

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She reached out and caught that nervous hand, still pinning him with her gaze.

"It's okay to not know who you are or what you're going to do. That is where everyone starts. You could fall right back into everything you ever were, pain and all, or you could just try starting over. A hundred years passes like the blink of an eye for your kind. Why not just. . . . .trying not to make any big changes in the Universe for a while. Nothing greatly good. Nothing greatly bad. Just go see the world with these new eyes. With the quiet in your head. I bet you missed a lot the first time just trying to navigate the madness imposed upon you. I guarantee you missed a lot, because it's beautiful out there, Jake, it is. Then, after a hundred years, see if you want to destroy beauty or preserve it. How about that?"

[The Master]

He lifted an eyebrow, then laughed a short laugh. "A vacation, you mean?"

The Master laughed a little longer, then smiled. "Yes, that actually would work. I've spent my whole life raging against the Time Lords. Why should I let them control me, now that they're dead?"

His smile was brighter, even seeming to bring some life and humor to his hard blue eyes. "Why should I?" he echoed. "I am the Master, after all. Not," he winked, "the Slave."

He picked up his wineglass with his free hand. "A toast, then. To good food, good company, and the best revenge: happiness."

[Sarah Jane]

She looks at her wine glass but does not touch it, though surely she could use a drink right now.

"I cannot toast with the Master on such a revenge. I fear your definition of "Happiness" may still be too broad for me to concur." She said most formally, then picked up her glass, hope and challenge clear on her expressive mouth.

"Try again, Jake, give me something I can toast to." She said, her voice thick with wanting.

[The Master]

The Master gave Sarah a dry look. "You are quite the demanding young lady, aren't you?" And then his face split in a broad grin, humor dancing in his eyes. "But very well," he laughed, "A different toast, then."

He thought for a second, then raised his glass again. "To good food, good company, a long-needed vacation, and to finally figuring out what we want out of life."

[Sarah Jane]

She was delightfully surprised. She had feared she'd gone to far asking for this much. She wondered just how well he would take her rebuke, however tender she had made it. He had a wonderful laugh, sometimes. It was now.

"To good food, good company, a long-needed vacation, and to finally figuring out what we want out of life." She echoed back at him with a smile, and carefully clinked her glass against his, drinking and looking at him over the rim.

She still held his other hand in hers. Though they were mostly still, she could still feel that echo of movement, subtle but present, and she wondered what the future held.

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