“I’m here with my friend. He’s showing me the sights…” Clara smiled brightly, before looking around. “Although, just where he is at the moment I’m not quite sure…”
Of course. “Has he run off on you?” He asked, somewhat pityingly. “Shame. A girl like you shouldn’t be left alone in a place like this. Not everyone’s so, ah…friendly, as I am.”
Clara noticed the aloof tone, but she smiled. “I’m Clara. Lovely to meet you.” She held out her hand towards the stranger
He considered her for a moment before shaking her hand. There was no need to be impolite just yet. “Clara. Might I ask what an Earth girl is doing in a place like this?”
“And you are?” The Master asked, not unpleasantly, but with an air of impatience.
“You say that now - I give it a week. You’re a twisted soul, you can’t blame the drums for everything.”
The bitter smile was back. “No, I can’t. They’re gone.”
Tom Hiddleston arrives at The Laurence Olivier Awards 2013 at The Royal Opera House on April 28, 2013 in London, England
“Y’know for some reason I just don’t believe you…” the Doctor noted, with spite to his tone.
“I’d consider you a fool if you did.” the Master said simply. “Distrust me all you like, Doctor, but I don’t have anything planned. Usurping planets doesn’t have the same kick to it when you learn that your primary motivation is nothing but lies.”
“Well come on then! What’s the grand plan? What’s up those sleeves of yours, hmm?”
His face twisted into a mock-hurt expression. “Oh, come now, Doctor. It’s almost like you don’t trust me. Frankly, I’m offended.” He rolled his eyes and dropped the expression once again. “I’m not planning anything. Not this time.” Not actively, at least. “I just want to be left alone. Happy?”
“Then why are you hear, hmm? Why?!”
“Why am I here? You make it sound as though I came looking for you.” He said, somewhat condescending. “Don’t flatter yourself, Doctor.”