Solero

Aug. 16th, 2011 07:45 pm
smallhobbit: (Master collar)
[personal profile] smallhobbit
Title: Solero Fandom: Doctor Who/Sherlock (BBC) Rating: PG - 14 Word count: 600 Notes: With thanks to my beta [livejournal.com profile] jinxed100  and [livejournal.com profile] edzel2  whose calendar provided the inspiration Summary: Once more chocolate proves the Master's undoing

The Master fumed.  How could he have been tricked by a mere human and find himself strapped very firmly in the sort of chair that reminded him all too painfully of his time in the Naismiths’ Mansion?  At least he had been left alone.  He moved experimentally, seeing which of the straps would be easiest to loosen.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t left alone for very long.  A slightly greying man came back into the room, moved one of the chairs and sat in it, legs apart. 

He smiled at the Master.  “Your friend’s gone to get his vehicle, can’t remember what he said it was called.  I’m just here to make sure you don’t try to go anywhere until he gets back.”

The Master glowered at him.  When he’d first encountered him, the Master had assumed that he was just another stupid policeman.  What he hadn’t appreciated was that even though Inspector Lestrade hadn’t fully understood the significance of what was happening around him, he had contacted the other man (whose enthusiasm for the bizarre seemed to rival that of the Doctor).  The end result being that instead of stealing the blue diamond of Ganymede from under the guards’ noses he was sitting in this stupid chair again.

Lestrade took a Solero out of a carrier bag and started to eat it.  The Master watched, fascinated.  The inspector licked some of the juice as it started to melt and slide down the lolly and the Master swallowed.  As he began to nibble at the ice cream inside the orange causing the Master let out an audible groan.  Lestrade looked up.  The Master tried to deny his interest, but the slight movement in his hips contradicted any denial.  Lestrade grinned and proceeded to eat the ice cream slowly and deliberately, finally licking the last drops of juice off his fingers one by one.  He looked at the Master again and noted that his trousers seemed much tighter than they had earlier.

Lestrade looked into his bag and withdrew a carton.  From inside the carton he took out a chocolate éclair and once again began to slowly eat it.  By now the Master was starting to look distinctly uncomfortable and rather flushed.  Lestrade smiled pleasantly at the Master, who tried to think of something caustic to say, but as he watched the other man lick some of the chocolate, the only sound he could make was an extremely undignified mew.

A second man entered the room and going over to Lestrade, kissed him. 

“I thought you might like some company.  How’s your prisoner?”

“He seems a bit tense.  Is Sherlock okay?”

“He’s in his element.  Did you know you’ve got a smudge of cream on your cheek?”

Lestrade went to wipe it, but his companion said, “No, let me,” and proceeded to lick it off.

The Master groaned and both men turned to look at him.

“He does look uncomfortable,” said John.  “Do you think we should help him at all?”

“I suppose if we unstrapped one arm and then handcuffed him to the arm of the chair he’d have sufficient freedom of movement.”

“Do you think he’ll try to escape?”

Lestrade passed John another éclair.  “I think if you stand in front of him and eat this, there’s very little chance of that!”

Which is why, when the Doctor and Sherlock Holmes arrived in the TARDIS they found the Master with his hand in his trousers moaning softly to himself, whilst Dr John Watson ate a chocolate éclair and DI Greg Lestrade stood with a broad grin on his face.

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