“I’ll tell you a secret: the Doctor isn’t interested in you unless you need them. And I don’t mean need them to carry your parcels or give you driving directions. I mean need them in a deep, aching, existential way. I mean you’re looking for a savior. They can’t resist. Not one. Single. Time.”
“You know, sometimes, I think that’s why they left me behind on that game station. Figured I’d be fine in the end, I’d figure a way out of there one way or another. I mean, sure, he was regenerating, I get that. But then nothing after that? Yeah, I was never gonna need them. Not like I need you.”
He’d be marinating in bitterness, save for the way Jack chose to conclude. As is, Koschei can’t help but exude warm affection. He reaches out to caress Jack’s ever-soft cheek, familiar and gentle.
“Yeah,” is all he says: happy to confirm to whom he belongs.
Koschei looks up from his favorite lounging spot, naked, on Jack’s chest, leeching his warmth like a cat does a spot of sun, and the dictionary definition of smug.
“Flattery may get you everywhere but don’t expect me to want to move anywhere anytime soon, regardless.”
Koschei gulps back a guffaw; he kneels and takes his daughter’s nearest foot in one hand, pretending to examine every digit thoroughly. He takes care to tickle them too, before sneaking a conspiratorial grin up at his baby girl.
“Not exactly. It’s quite alright, luv. I’ll tell you a secret; you’re meant to have one big toe, and four little ones, on each foot. It’s a most marvelous part of being part Gallireyan. And guess what? You have the most wonderful little toes I have ever seen. Toes that could conquer the universe.”
Despite the abysmal afternoon, consisting of a violent run-in with a long-ago enemy, Koschei’s found it in himself to give Sammy her bedtime story (usually largely narrated by the demanding and intrepid girl, but her father loves to indulge her).
He’s already dozing with her, bundled together under a thousand quilts and blankets, when Jack joins them.
The Master needn’t even open his eyes to find his husband’s arm and latch it with his own, effectively trapping him in the blanket nest.
It has been a rough day for all of them, one way or another, and it’s not only Jack that slips into bed, it’s Victor as well. He’s been snuggling with his papa the whole night, doing the best impression of his father that he can (that is, making like a koala and burrowing into Jack’s chest). He isn’t going to let a little thing like bedtime end his clinging.
As they climb into bed, there’s a bit of shuffling and Vicky lets go to instead curl up with his sister. Which is just fine with Jack, who throws that spare arm around all three of his darlings.
“Hey, beautiful” he says, quietly, peeking over the blond and brunette heads to look at his husband. “How are you doing?”
“Well, I can hardly complain now that my entire person is covered in loved ones, now can I?” Koschei murmurs, kissing the wrist that encircles him, alongside their almost absurdly beautiful children.
He sneaks a sly look at his husband, and cranes his long slender neck to deposit a kiss on Jack’s lips.
“You lot put things in perspective for me. Give me something to stay well for. So odd, really. The more I have to lose, the stronger I feel.”
Koschei’s got his back to his husband when Jack so casually speaks these words. His ears, and then his cheeks, go ruddy. It’s one of the very few things someone can say to him that actually causes embarrassment.
“Stop,” he murmurs.
“Never,” Jack grins, sliding up behind him to kiss his cheeks. It’s a pointed compliment, one he knows will always cut through all bluster and ego to bolster his truest hearts, but it’s also a completely true one as well. “I mean it. You’re so patient with them, and attentive, and you never talk down to them or treat them like they’re anything less than their own person. You remind me a lot of my dad.”
“Oho, look. I didn’t raise them to be such pillars of intellectual and ethical rectitude without you.”
Koschei, cheeks kisses, smacks his hands against each side of Jack’s face, demanding his fullest attention.
“You’re hard on yourself, Sam. I know you don’t like talking about that time, and the losses you were forced to incur, when no one else would make the impossible choices, but I’d not be having any children with you if I thought there was any universe in which you’d hurt them.”
“Oh, I get it, joost ask your conveniently extra-terrestrial husband! We’re all little green men, right, I would know why some flying saucer wanted to anal-probe some bovines!”
Koschei removes his glasses and clears his throat. He tucks his daughter in against his side, combing her chestnut braids over one shoulder and leaning over to rub noses with her.
“Once upon a time there was a warrior princess clad in bright glistening vallidium armor whose mind was most powerful. She used her mind for good, planting ideas about how to be kind in the minds of anyone she touched. So she dashed across the countryside on her noble steed, reaching over to tap the shoulder of anyone she came across. And that person would think of the most agreeable things to do for their fellow people: pick up a dropped object, offer a hand oop, pay a compliment. And her kingdom prospered because she was ever so clever and good. Her name was Samantha.”
“Oh, I get it, joost ask your conveniently extra-terrestrial husband! We’re all little green men, right, I would know why some flying saucer wanted to anal-probe some bovines!”
Icarus 