wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

A small tingling of goosebumps ran up John’s neck from the place on his back that Sam’s hand had been, but he ignored it. It definitely did not bode well, dwelling on these things. Though he did grin back at the other man in delight when he made his offer.

“I’d love to,” he replied enthusiastically, and checked his wristwatch quickly, trying to figure out when it would be time to go back in. Incredulous at himself, he frowned, when he realised he had absolutely no idea… In fact, he’d not even noticed the time since he’d woken up that morning. “Speaking of which,” he continued, with a small laugh, “When is the next half? I was just going to follow the crowd I think…”

“Ought to be soon,” the Master smirked at the other’s enthusiasm, his energy.  He was really quite adorable and not at all what the Time Lord expected of Torchwood.  That open friendliness was just what the Master needed, someone who might be prone to accidentally over-share, if the right questions were posed.

“Crowd’ll probably be a decent way to gauge it,” he agreed, but made sure to take a decent swallow of his drink, against the moment feet started shifting and people began filtering back in.

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

John did not disappoint. He’d been just taking another sip of his drink when Sam had spoken and proceeded to choke for a few seconds as his surprise caused him to accidentally swallow via his windpipe, letting the deadly fizzy liquid into his precious lungs. He covered his mouth quickly with his hand to try and curb the embarrassment factor of the situation, and when he’d finished coughing simply stood still a moment to catch his breath.

His brain scolded him brutally, The man couldn’t have meant it that way! Ridiculous! And he took a moment to speak,

“Well, that was certainly not my smoothest reply in a conversation,” he said, laughing despite himself, “But perhaps my smoothest coughing fit actually… I’m quite proud of how I handled that one.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking adorably sheepish, but refused to look too embarrassed, and held Sam’s gaze with a silly grin.

The Master’s brows shot up and a hand came to hover in the vicinity of the space between John’s shoulder blades, should he need a bit of a thump to clear his airway, but he turned out alright after all.  The Master’s hand fell instead there, just in a sort of congratulatory support, in the end.

“Well done, actually.  I was worried there for a moment,” he smiled easily and let his hand fall away with the barest hint of a caress.  ”Care to join us for the next half?  You looked to be on your own.”

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

John faltered a moment, wondering if Jack would want him to use some kind of alias or something… But ultimately, he decided that his name was almost the most ordinary sounding name he could think of anyway, so why bother?

“John Smith,” he replied, wary of saying anything more that might imply the nature of his job. He shook the hand just the once, rather uncomfortably, and withdrew his hand again very quickly. He’d never understood that, hand-shaking, but then he was certainly not the most formal of people. Still, he smiled at Sam’s change in attitude and felt himself calm a little.

“So what do you think of the game so far?” he continued happily, eager to steer the conversation towards less serious matters.

“All right, I ‘spose,” the Master shrugged, grinning a bit foolishly as he sipped his own drink.  ”I’m not much of a rugby man, but the team wanted to go out, see the match.  Male bonding sort of a thing.”

He laughed and shook his head a bit.  ”I’m probably not winning as many points with them as I’d have liked, considering I’ve spent most of the first half staring at you.”

He let it sound more intimate than a man in his position should have meant it.  Let it be a bit awkward.  He watched John out of the corner of his eye to see if he flustered.

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

Oh, of course, he thought, You wouldn’t even remember what it is you should be angry at me about.

“Oh no. Definitely not. Not me. I’ve never been in any trouble ever,” he replied in a rush, perhaps just a little too innocently, unable to hold back the grin spreading across his face. He took another sip of his drink to try and swallow the ridiculous smile.

“I do work with the police sometimes though, so maybe that’s where you’ve seen me,” he added without thinking, then proceeded to mentally slap himself for saying something so revealing. What was the point in even using the retcon if he was going to keep letting things slip anyway? Really though, he did hate all this secrecy; it never was his style.

“Do you,” the Master furrowed his brow and let his demeanor change, opening up to become friendlier.  ”Sorry for the misunderstanding then… I just thought… Never mind. Flight of fancy,” he waved it off.

“Sam Tyler, with the Cardiff MCIT,” he introduced, offering a hand to John. “And you?”

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

John may have jumped out of his skin just a little when he turned away from the bar again to come face to face with the very man he’d been trying to avoid, though he supposed he should have been expecting it. He gulped, trying very very hard not to allow his eyes to wander from Sam’s face… and failing.

Oh, you are doing that on purpose, his mind concluded, before he snapped his eyes back up to meet Sam’s again.

“I’m sorry?” he replied after that moment’s hesitation, attempting indifference despite the absolute state his nerves were in, “I er.. caught your eye earlier, didn’t I? Weird coincidence or something. I don’t want any trouble mate…” At that, he picked up his glass to take a sip and turned away to lean on the bar, hoping to demonstrate that he wasn’t paying much attention to the man. Perhaps he’d just get bored…?

“No-no-no,” he picked his chin back up as he spoke the rapidfire negative and leaned in a bit nearer.  ”I know you from somewhere, and in my line of work, that somewhere’s not usually good.”

He pulled his wallet and showed his badge briefly before tucking it away again, as a cop would with a newly met person to prove they weren’t pulling their chain.  ”You haven’t been caught up in any trouble lately?”

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

It was about two thirds of the way into the first half of the match before John gave into the weird nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He’d been telling himself it was just paranoia setting in, most likely thanks to all the weird happenings that Torchwood seemed to cause on a day-to-day basis. However, when he finally turned his eyes away from the game to scan the crowd suspiciously and he locked eyes with none other than DSI Sam Tyler, he knew the sensation of being watched had been an accurate one.

John’s expression faltered a little in surprise, but he tried not to let the actual recognition of the man show on his face. Sam looked confused, he noted. That was good, right? It meant the retcon had indeed worked its magic. Still, he couldn’t help the light pink tinge to his cheeks as he attempted to give the man an inconspicuous, friendly nod.

For the rest of that half, his eyes stayed glued to the field, but try as he might he could still feel those eyes boring into him. So much so that when the half time whistle blowed, he jumped up from his chair almost instantaneously and made his way, stumbling of course, through the crowd to try and escape off somewhere. Amidst all the hustling and bustling, he eventually found himself at one of the bars behind the terraces and decided it couldn’t hurt to order a coke or something.

When he looked across the bar however, he spotted Sam Tyler again amongst the crowd and cursed inwardly, hoping he might possibly go unnoticed.

No such luck.  The Time Lord had the young man’s scent.  There was no shaking the Master now. 

He didn’t approach immediately though.  He waited a bit, bought himself a drink to sip at and just mingled for a moment before deciding he could safely catch sight of John again.  

Once he had the Master made his way through the throng of people and leaned himself against the bar top beside the taller man.  His blazer collar shifted down as he tilted his head down toward his propped-up shoulder, the angle exaggerated, bearing an obscene amount of neck.  His mouth was a straight line though, and his eyes bored into John, hard.

“You wanted for something, mate?” he asked, playing cop for now.

wibblywobblyhumanywumany:

It was a grey, dreary sort of day in Cardiff that afternoon, but John didn’t mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually seen the sun properly, so it was all pretty average by the by. Besides, he was in fact rather partial to the smell of rain.

He approached the impressive landmark that was Cardiff’s Millenium Stadium with a large grin on his face. It must have been the craziest coincidence that a rugby match was actually being played here on his first day off in who-knows-how-long. Looking around him at the other patrons of the stadium, he received a few nods of friendly recognition, and stroked the red team scarf he’d chosen at random on his way out happily. Yes, this should be fun, he noted.

After weaseling his way into the arena successfully, with the help of his extra-special, top-secret, not-to-be-used-to-abuse-one’s-power-under-any-circumstances Torchwood ID (well, buying tickets on the same day of the match is definitely not an easy task, you know!), he took a seat at random and glanced around him again. The noise of the crowd was already growing to a deafening roar, and the game hadn’t even started yet, but that only contributed to the exciting atmosphere.

John leaned back in his flimsy plastic chair and took a deep, satisfied breath of fresh air. Perhaps a day off would be good for him after all.

The Master had been dragged out by the guys.  Just about the entire MCIT had decided to see the match, and in a move to both strengthen his integration with them and keep their trust, and just pass a bit of time, he’d agreed to come along.  

Some kind of good fortune must have been on his side as they rambled in, because he caught sight of the tall, strange Torchwood agent as he’d made his way in to the seats and was able to steer his own company the same way.  When they sat, he made sure to choose the same row as John, but several seats down.  He kept to the outside of edge of his group, Skelton at his inside elbow, and for a while just kept his attention on his team and on the game.

After a while he let his eyes start to drift in John’s direction though.  Whenever he looked down the row at him, he composed his features into those of a person suffering deja vu, or that awful state of being uncertain if one recognizes an acquaintance or not.  If any of his subordinates noticed, he’d just blow it off as nothing and watch the match a while longer.

But he always looked back eventually, waiting for John to feel his eyes on him.

My new Loki Laufreyson side blog http://liesmithofasgard.tumblr.com is probably a better place to find things pertaining to your interests.  This one here’s just a bunch of Wholock RP stuff.  I just never sign out into my personal any more, hence why you heard from me from here. :3