The One Who Pulls The Strings (Doctor Who Regenerated)

A Night Out on the Town

(Harmony's POV)

"Alastiere? Alastiere!" I called frantically through the crowd, now holding the Master's hand instead of the flame-haired boy's. I didn't need to be losing him, too, and I silently scolded myself when it felt like my heart was beating faster for a reason other than fear for Alastiere's safety. "Oh, no. Where is he?"

   "Alastiere!" The Master called. "Why did you let go of his hand?"

   "I didn't! He let go of mine."

   The Master groaned, then called out again, "Alastiere!"

   Peppercorn followed closely by, trying to sniff out the boy, but failing. There must have been too many scents. She only ended up wandering in circles until she ran into the Master's boot, nearly tripping him over.

   He hissed, then sighed. "Da** it. Peppercorn, be careful." He crouched to pick her up, letting go of my hand.

   I tapped the arm of a man standing beside me. "Excuse me? Have you seen a really tall boy with bright red hair?"

   The massive brute turned, looking right over my head. He lazily held a large mug, mead spilling over. His drunken eyes finally wandered downward, and his face broke into a toothy grin upon spotting me. "Oh... 'Ello there, lovely lassy."

   "Oh, uh, sorry—"

   His giant hand grabbed my tiny arm. "Well, ain't you.. *hic*, a sight fer soar eyes!"

   I froze.

   "Oi! Hands off her!" The Master shouted, reaching for me.

   The drunk giant growled something loudly, trying to pull me away. He must have underestimated his strength, though, because he flung me through an open doorway, where I fell into someone's unsuspecting lap.

   I stared up, terrified. "I-I'm so sorry—!"

   A handsome stranger looked down at me in surprise, his hair surprisingly well groomed, his body adorned with a black leather coat. He grinned, his arms snaking their way around me, and I noticed one of his hands was a hook. "Nothing to be sorry for, love."

   I smelled alcohol on his breath as I snapped back to my senses. I squirmed uncomfortable, kicking my way out of his lap and onto the table.

   "Oh, watcha doin' on the table, little lass?" A drunk woman shouted from behind me, cackling. "Someone can't hold their mead!"

   The hook-handed man pushed himself up off his chair, stepping up onto the table with me. "Leaving so soon?" He slurred. "Why, I'm offended!"

   I scrambled to my feet. "Back off!" And I backed up until the table disappeared beneath my feet. I squeaked in surprise, landing hard on my butt.

   The whole side of the tavern I was on broke out in laughter. Some men cat-called, the women cackled until some of them fell over from being so drunk.

   I regained my footing, gritting my teeth. I looked for the exit, ready to book it. Unfortunately, someone didn't want me to leave.