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It was across the floor.
He hadn’t expected it. He knew he’d never come to a nightclub unless necessary.
Especially not a never ending party like this one. Still, he had had too. Nightclubs were loud, and dark, and this one was miles long. No one would notice if he picked up a few outlawed parts from a man slinking about the edges of the dance floor.
Still, the Master didn’t like being there.
The music was too loud, too pulsing, and way too human sounding- even if they weren’t on Earth. The air was sweaty and pathetic. He couldn’t understand how people indulged in such trivial, messy pleasures.
For once, the Master was glad his race was far too advanced for petulant activities such as dancing and drinking.
That was, what he was thinking, until he noticed the only other member of his race left, doing both of those things about twenty metres away.
The Doctor was bouncing up and down, grin slapped to her face as one of her human friends jumped with her, laughing as she spun the Doctor around.
The Master scowled, and sat down in the empty booth behind him, watching in confusion.
How was she doing this? How was she, at a nightclub, with her friends, having fun, of all things, after what she’d found out?
How could she smile after what had happened to Gallifrey?
Unless she hadn’t gone yet.
The Master cursed himself. That wasn’t possible. He’d planted the seed, he knew her. She’d have gone soon after she got her TARDIS back, he was sure of it.
Unless she hadn’t.
He watched as she grabbed the older man’s- Graham’s- hand, twisting him around with a laugh. The younger man, who he was pretty sure was called Ryan, grabbed Yaz, the Master remembered her, by the hand and bounced with her.
The Doctor laughed and danced, loose and free.
As he watched, the Master found everyone else melting away. He watched as she flowed with the beat, smiling and bouncing and glowing.
She was like a flame. Flickering and sparking and burning bright.
He saw couples dotted around the room, but the Master didn’t understand how they were looking at anyone other than the beautiful flame in front of him. Still, he considered that good. He knew he’d probably be furious if anyone did.
Yaz held the Doctor’s arm, pulling her in and yelling something into her ear. The Doctor nodded, giving her a thumbs up and letting go of Graham. Graham and Yaz grabbed onto one another, pushing back through the crowd for what the Master could only assume was more drinks.
The Doctor didn’t stop though, bouncing with Ryan, who spun her around as her coat billowed behind her. She laughed, before doing the same to him.
The two jumped, swayed and moved to the thumping pulse. It was enough to give the Master a headache, and if he was honest, he’d never wanted to get out of anywhere more. That was saying something.
Still, the pull towards the Doctor was incessant and all encompassing. So he stayed. And watched her burn.
Ryan got a tap on the shoulder from a random woman, followed by a kiss. He gave the Doctor an apologetic look as he was whisked off to some corner of the dance floor.
The Doctor didn’t care though. She was quite happy dancing on her own.
The Master considered it for a moment, noting how far away he was from her, and how long it would get, how many bodies he’d have to push through.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He’d got what he’d come for.
Still, the Time Lord found himself getting up, and beginning the push towards the Doctor.
She burnt, twirled and flickered, and the Master kept pushing.
It took less time than he’d expected, and suddenly he was behind her.
His throat seemed to close up for a second, like smoke had buried itself inside his lungs, before he caught sight of the Doctor’s wide smile as her hair burnt golden around her face.
“Never thought you were one for dancing.” He didn’t raise his voice, pressing the words more into her head than into the open.
The Doctor gasped softly, turning on her heel, and coming face to face with him. She didn’t miss a beat, face lighting up even more, if that was even possible.
“What are you doing here?!” She asked, not making any effort to stop her body moving.
“Things you’d be very disappointed to hear about.” He shrugged. “What are you doing here? Making a fool of yourself?”
“Me? You’re the one stood still on the dance floor.” She grinned, grabbing ahold of his hands and moving their now conjoined arms together.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you to dance.” She grinned.
“We’re time lords. We don’t dance.”
“This one does!” Her happy-go-lucky attitude was on the borderline of being infuriating, but the Master couldn’t find it in himself to dislike her tone.
It was almost refreshing.
“Not well.” He teased.
“No one ever said you had to be good.” Her face lit like a match, burning brightly and hopefully. The Master sighed, rolling his eyes fondly. Acquiescing, he lifted one of his arms above her head, letting the Doctor laugh and be spun around.
“This isn’t exactly your place, Doctor. Thought you were more into libraries.” He came closer, and his friend shrugged, still bouncing. It was starting to make the Master feel a bit sick.
“I am! But- had a stressful couple days, and it was Ryan’s suggestion. I think it’s grown on me!” She let go off him to free herself.
The Master watched her, intently as the Doctor moved.
She burnt like a flame, like the brightest star. Moving and flowing with the elegance of a galaxy, and a newborn deer at the same time. Her smile was infectious, hair framing her features as it floated around her face, almost like a halo. She was hot, cheeks red and the smell of some kind of drink on her breath. She lit up the whole room, laugh like a symphony.
When was the last time he’d heard the Doctor laugh?
She lurched towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and forcing him to move with her.
“Absolutely not.” He attempted to stop her.
“Come on! You’re in a club!” She grinned. He almost gave in to that smile.
“Not to dance.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come over!” The Doctor pulled him close to her, and the Master reluctantly and loosely encased her waist in his arms, still letting her burn in his grip.
Which she did. She lit him up and giggled when he rolled his eyes, swaying begrudgingly to the beat.
“How much have you had to drink?” He scoffed, rather amusedly, after she’d stepped on his toes for the fourth time.
“Not much! Just never been good at co-ordination when it comes to dance.”
“You don’t need it.” He shook his head, and the Doctor tilted her head to the side a little.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying, you look beautiful.” He smirked, and the Doctor knocked back her surprise with a soft laugh.
“I’ll add that to the list of romantic things you’ve said to me, during our six hundred years of marriage. Maybe one day I’ll be able to count on two hands.” She teased. The Master rolled his eyes, twirling her around again.
“I’m very romantic.”
“When you’re not trying to kill me.”
“You don’t think that’s romantic?” He feigned hurt, as the Doctor scoffed, bouncing on her toes.
“I was more thinking of, y’know, maybe a dinner date?”
“That’s not very us, though, is it my dear?”
“No. Not really.” She admitted, “Not sure what you’re thinking though, I’m sweating like anything.”
“But you don’t care.”
“Nope!”
“Maybe that’s what it is then.” He shrugged, pulling her close, with his version of a genuine smile.
She laughed quietly, privately, and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Y’know my friends will be back soon. If I’m caught with you I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I didn’t think kissing my wife needed an explanation...’wife.’ Still weird.”
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
“Well as far as my fiends are concerned, I’m not married to the psychopath that tried to blow us up.”
“Maybe it’s about time they knew you are.” He hummed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, you’re sober. I’m not. Isn’t there a rule about this?” He scoffed next to her ear.
“You’re hardly drunk. If you don’t want to kiss me you don’t have to come up with excuses, Doctor.”
She pulled back to look at him, eyes deep for a moment.
“Just worried it’ll hurt.” She admitted, almost too soft to hear over the blaring music.
“Doesn’t it always?”
The Master met her half way, lips crashing together and flame growing. The Doctor wrapped her arms tightly around his neck- that was weird, it was usually the other way round- and kissed him deeply.
The Master managed to lose himself in the pounding music, technicolour lights and bubbling drinks.
All the alcohol in the world could never make him feel the way the Doctor did. And he knew, he’d tried it.
He kissed her gently, hands caressing her cheek and planted on the small of her back. The Master could feel their hearts, pressed together and beating, milliseconds out of sync.
The Doctor sighed contentedly against his lips, leaning up onto the balls of her feet to press against him.
She tasted slightly of alcohol, and it burnt on his tongue- but it wasn’t enough to drown out the familiarity.
No matter the body, the Doctor remained the same in a few ways. She smelt the same, tasted the same and kissed the same. She kissed with fire and anger and passion and unadulterated love, all with a hint of apprehension, hesitance and childlike clumsiness. The Master was sure he’d never tire of it.
When the Doctor pulled away, he knew it was only because she had to catch her breath.
“When did you get taller than me?” The Doctor glared half-heartedly at him, and the Master shrugged. He tightly wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.
The other Time Lord yelped, gripping onto him tightly and laughing.
“Put me down!”
“You wanted to be taller than me.” He shrugged, smirking at her. The Doctor rolled her eyes, patting his shoulder. He scoffed, putting her back down onto her feet.
“You’re so immature.”
“Me?” He frowned. “I was always the focused one.”
The Master wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, in a nightclub, kissing a slightly tipsy, sweaty Doctor. He’d come here for a reason, the parts he needed were in heavy in his pockets. He’d gotten what he’d come for.
Still, the pull to the Doctor was maddening, especially now.
Knowing they were the only two left, and still seeing her so happy. It was addicting. She was never happy when they saw each other. It was so rare that they saw one another like this, kissed and laughed like they were children.
The Master knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away. It was up to her now. He left when the Doctor didn’t want to see him anymore. Still, that didn’t seem to be any time soon.
The Doctor grinned, shrugging.
“Probably. Never liked school.” She admitted, bouncing again as she put a little bit of space between them. Enough to make sure she didn’t smack him in the face as she started to dance again.
The Master swayed with the music, watching her, transfixed.
The Time Lords were a well travelled species. And the Master was no exception.
He’d seen the far expanses of the universe. He’d seen galaxies born silently, stars burn out and into a black hole in front of him. He’d seen civilisations develop, races burn. He’d seen nature flourish, colours never before imagined. He’d seen earths die. He’d seen love, and life, and death, and sorrow.
But none of it, could even come close to the beauty in front of him.
Green eyes bright, body loose and hair bouncing, the Doctor’s light was almost indescribable.
It was like putting the world in perspective. None of it mattered. Not war, not love, not Gallifrey.
As long as the smile on that face remained, and as long as it was still pointed at him, nothing else mattered.
He stepped towards her, and the Doctor paused her movement, wrapping a hand around his arm and pulling herself close.
“You’re staring.” She laughed.
“You’re indescribable.”
“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” The Time Lord narrowed her eyes at him. “You said two nice things to me, in the same century.”
“Maybe thats because I’m a fool.” He hummed, pulling her to his chest. The Doctor offered him a small, slightly concerned smile, as she cupped the back of his neck with a hand.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid I forgot how lucky I was to have you.”
“Really?” The Doctor cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t give you much to be thankful for.”
“You’ve given me plenty.”
“I’m not sure I like this new version of you. Be mean again.” She scoffed, pulling herself closer to kiss the slope of his jaw gently.
“Mean’s easy. I’m trying for you, here.” The Master rolled his eyes, arms coming to encompass her completely.
“Mmm,” she hummed against his throat, “you should stop.”
He paused for a moment, frowning.
“Can I ask you something?”
The Master had been wondering wether or not to bring it up. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, but his curiosity was itching.
Still, he knew he had to be careful. The Doctor was like a wounded animal, it was important to approach slowly, for fear of scaring her away.
“Mhm.” Her hair tickled his Adam’s apple.
“Did you go to Gallifrey?”
The Doctor paused, glancing up at him darkly.
“Yes.” She whispered, almost too quietly to hear.
“But you’re so happy.” He frowned. The Doctor shook her head.
“No, I’m not. And I’ve not stopped looking for answers. You just happened to catch me on a day where I forced myself to stop thinking about it.”
“Can’t be easy.” He hummed.
“It’s not.”
“I can’t be making it easier.”
“No.” She admitted. Still- stay.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like easy.”
The Master looked into her eyes, closer than before. The Doctor was hurting, burning deeply, smoke billowing.
He might not have made it easier, but if the Master could help her forget, even for a while, he would.
The Doctor was caught off guard when he kissed her again, softer and gentler than he was usually. The Doctor didn’t pause, gripping his shoulders tightly. The Master focused on the feeling of the Doctor’s lips on his, her hair tickling her face, the fabric of her coat and her skin under his fingertips.
“Shouldn’t your friends be back with your drink by now?” He asked, pulling back to gaze into her dark eyes.
“This place is huge. They’re probably still on their way to the bar. Why? You want one?”
He thought about it.
He really shouldn’t. He had important, dangerous parts on him, and who knows what he might say if he was drunk.
Still, the Master was sure one drink wouldn’t hurt.
“Wouldn’t mind one.”
The Doctor grinned.
“Just don’t let go of my hand.” She grabbed his hand, smile wide with excitement, as she turned on her heel, starting to make her way through the crowd. More- dance through it.
The Master rolled his eyes. She could never do anything normally.
They ducked and shuffled their way through sweaty aliens and couples who were being a little too risky, especially for a public place.
The Doctor almost got decked in the face, by a guy swinging a punch at another, with four eyes. The Master yanked her towards him at the last of the second, before taking the lead and steering them away from the ensuing brawl.
She squeezed his hand.
The edge of the dance floor hit the Master like a breath of fresh air, and he tugged the Doctor out after him, who stumbled with a giggle.
“Seriously, how much have you drunk?”
“Only like, three.” She shrugged, pulling him in the direction of the bar.
“Lightweight.” He teased.
“You won’t be calling me that once you’ve had one.” She reassured gravely, pushing their way through to the bar. The Doctor frowned, seeing no sign of Graham or Yaz.
“Where are they?” She asked, more to herself than the Master.
“I’m sure they’ll pop up. Do you have a rendezvous?”
“Yeah. The TARDIS.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” He shrugged, attempting the best he could to reassure her. The Doctor frowned for a moment more, before shrugging.
“Yeah. You’re right.” And with that, she hopped onto the stool. The Master let go of her hand and sat on the stool beside her, scanning the crowd for the Doctor’s pesky human friends as the Time Lord next to him ordered two more of whatever drink she’d gotten last.
He couldn’t see them, swivelling around to face the counter as a shot was slid his way.
“That’s it. That’s what’s gotten you so..smiley?” He raised an eyebrow. The shot was smaller- smaller than the ones he’d seen on Earth- about half the size.
“Go on.” The Doctor looked way too smug, and the Master raised the shot glass to his lips, taking a hesitantly sniff.
“Have you laced this?”
“You wanna swap?” The Time Lord quipped.
“What if I’ve laced yours?”
“You think I’m foolish enough to leave it uncovered?”
She rolled her eyes, taking her own shot to her lips. The Doctor knocked it back, grimacing and shaking her head as it went down her throat.
“Absolutely disgusting.” She squeezed her eyes shut and slapped her chest, forcing the liquid down. “Your turn.”
“You are over-dramatic, my love.” The Master scoffed, knocking the drink back.
It was so much worse than what he’d imagined.
The liquid felt like gasoline, that someone had set alight. It burnt like a sun down his throat and into his stomach, and the Master couldn’t stop himself from spluttering and coughing slightly.
The Doctor saved him the embarrassment of laughing at him, instead slapping his back, forcing the liquid down.
“Yeah, I know.” She laughed gently.
“Why are you drinking this? My god.” He cleared his throat.
“Cuz it feels really good once you get past the whole, setting your oesophagus alight, thing.”
“I’ve got high expectations.”
“I hope they exceed.”
“Doctor!”
The Doctor turned on the stool, lighting up.
“Yaz! Graham! There you are!” She jumped off of her seat. “Where did you two get too?”
“We got a bit lost. We never got to the bar- just decided to try and get back to you and Ryan on the dance floor. But you’d gone.” Graham explained, yelling slightly over the music.
The Master always forgot humans weren’t telepathic. Rather pathetic.
“Hey, where is Ryan?” Yaz frowned.
“He went off with some girl. He said he’d be fine.” The Doctor shrugged.
“You left him alone?!”
“He left me alone!”
“Because you’re the Doctor! Youre- y’know, competent. Ryan’s never been on this planet before, and who knows what kind of alien he’s snogging.” Yaz huffed a little.
“He has his phone. He can call me if he need anything. He’ll be fine.” The Doctor reassured.
“She’s right, Yaz.” Graham agreed. “Ryan can look after himself.” Yaz frowned, but didn’t argue.
“Who are you hanging out with anyway?” She asked the Doctor. “Made a new friend?”
“Uh-“ the Doctor glanced at him, the Master still had his back partially turned to the group. “More like- reconnected.”
She gave him a reassuring smile, and the Master sighed, rolling his eyes and turning around.
Yaz’s eyes widened. Graham took a step backwards.
“Doctor! What are you doing??” Yaz asked, grabbing the Time Lord’s hand protectively.
The Master rolled his eyes again. If only she knew.
“I thought you were coming to forget about everything with him, and Gallifrey?” Graham asked, less sharply than Yaz.
“I did. But- then the answers just kinda..fell into my lap.” The Doctor lied effortlessly. They didn’t need to know the whole truth, the two time lords knew they’d never understand.
“So you’re..drinking with him?” Yaz raised an eyebrow.
“Well yeah. Smart isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure that plan works out, if you’re also getting drunk, Doc.” Graham murmured beside her.
“Yeah, and you just admitted what you were doing.” Yaz frowned, narrowing her eyes at the Doctor. “Tell us the truth, Doctor. What were you doing?”
The Doctor sighed.
“He’s my friend, Yaz.” Another half-truth. “I just wanted to have this night. Pretend that things aren’t the way they are for a while.”
“Even after everything he did?” Yaz frowned.
“You’re the one that told me to forget about it all tonight.”
“I didn’t mean hang out with the guy that tried to blow us up!”
“Yaz,” the Doctor tried. “I know you’re not happy. But we’ve been friends for- well, longer than AD’s been a thing. I know it’s hard to understand, but it’s just the way it is.”
Yaz frowned.
“You’re right. I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” Graham put a reassuring hand on Yaz’s shoulder, murmuring into her ear. “But look at her.” Clearly these humans had no idea both time lords could still hear them. Telepathy was so useful. “She’s happy, Yaz. If you wanna have a go at her, do it tomorrow. After some Advil.”
The Doctor glanced hopefully at the Master.
Yaz sighed.
“Fine.” She murmured. “I think I’m going to go find Ryan. Is that ok?” The woman turned the question to the Doctor, who shrugged.
“Sure!”
“Me too. You gonna be ok here, Doc?” Graham asked, squeezing the Time Lords shoulder as Yaz turned away.
“Peachy, Graham.” The Doctor smiled.
“This isn’t over though.” He muttered, kindly. “I know a married couple when I see one.”
The Doctor watched him walk away, a knowing and pleased smile on his face as he went.
“How’d he know?” She frowned. “Not like we’re wearing wedding rings.”
“Maybe we should get some.” He shrugged, as she sat on the stool again.
“Very human thing to do.” The Doctor considered, and the Master hummed in agreement.
“You like human things, though.” He pointed out.
“Yeah. Much preferred our wedding over a human one though. I mean- my god. I had no idea the Uwachs could party like that.”
“For a bunch of monks, their breakdancing was quite impressive.” He agreed, the Doctor scoffing at the memory.
“We should renew our vows. An excuse to hang out with them again.”
He rolled his eyes fondly.
“Absolutely not. You were way too hungover the next day.”
“Uh- last time I checked, you were the one that woke up in bed with one of the monks.”
“I didn’t sleep with him though.” She narrowed her eyes. “Hey,” the Master threw his hands up in surrender, “you’re the one that had a wife when you were still married to me.”
“So did you!”
“Not because I loved her.” He argued. “Just to keep up appearances.”
“That’s worse!”
“Maybe in your books.” He leant across slightly, taking her hand. “That’s the difference between you and I though, isn’t it, Doctor?” She cocked her head slightly in confusion. “You love far too easily.”
“And you don’t?”
“I refuse to love anyone other than you.”
“I’m not sure wether to be honoured or afraid.” The Time Lord smiled, rolling her eyes fondly.
The Master was sure much more smiling from her would melt him from the inside out. It was refreshing, gorgeous and- private.
“Both sound great. Nothing wrong with being afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She teased, shuffling a little closer. “You’re too predictable to be frightening.”
“Maybe I should start mixing it up a bit then.” He scoffed. “Next time I’ll give your friends all hugs.”
The Doctor laughed, shaking her head.
“Have you been here before?” He asked, watching the Time Lord fondly.
“Once. I didn’t stay long. Why?”
“Because I have. And you haven’t gone to the best part yet.” He hopped off the stool, holding out a hand. The Doctor took it, skeptical.
“Why do you know your way round this place? And what were you doing here that you don’t want me to know about?”
“Questions, questions Doctor.” The Master locked their fingers together, and started leading her towards a door about thirty metres away. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?”
“I hate patience. Don’t have it. Not my thing.” She rebutted.
“Well,” he rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see from where he was pulling her along behind him. “If you must know, nightclubs, especially ones this big, are very good places for criminal activity. Dark, loud, no one notices a thing.”
“So what are you buying parts for? Another bomb?”
“Glad you think so highly of me, my love, but I’m afraid it’s far more boring than that. I’m just getting parts for my TARDIS.”
“Illegal parts?”
“Yeah. Most parts in our TARDIS’s are outlawed.”
“Not in mine.”
“That’s because you stole one without all the parts, my dear.”
“I think she’s perfect just the way she is.” The Doctor shrugged, as the Master reached the door, opening it and leading them outside.
There was a pool expanding as far as the eye could see in front of them, complete with lights, more music, and people. Less than inside, but still, hundreds.
Besides from the pool, perfectly kept trees and fountains lined the walls and created a kind of barrier.
It was pretty, the Master could admit that, objectively. Still, would’ve been better without all the people.
“How did you know this was here?” The Doctor asked.
“Drowned a guy in it after he ripped me off.” He shrugged. That earned him a smack on the arm. “Ow.”
“You are a liability. I hope you know that.” She rolled her eyes, the Master leading her over to the edge of a fountain, that he sat on.
The Doctor joined him.
“It’s my thing.” He shrugged. The Master could feel the alcohol buzzing inside his skin, and he wondered how the Doctor had managed to have four of these.
He thought he could only manage maybe one more.
It had become increasingly obvious however, that the Doctor was actually not managing. She let out a little noise of discomfort, holding a hand to her head.
“You shouldn’t have had that much to drink.” He scolded lightly, out of genuine concern.
“It wasn’t working.”
“What wasn’t?”
“I still couldn’t stop thinking about Gallifrey.”
The Master didn’t reply. They sat in silence for a little while, and the Time Lord wanted to take her hand, offer some reassurance. But there was none.
Then, the Doctor gently, hesitantly put her head on his shoulder, hovering slightly in case he shrugged her off.
The Master was vaguely aware that someone he knew could see them, see him being soft. He couldn’t have that.
Still, that didn’t seem to stop his arm from coming up and his fingers from running gently through her hair.
The Doctor sighed gently, almost too quietly to hear, and her eyes fluttered shut. The Master twisted slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Softie.” She murmured.
“Hush.” The Master tried to ignore her as he concentrated, fingers untangling from her scalp and pressing gently against her temple.
The Doctor tensed for a moment, clearly caught off guard and afraid of what he was looking for. The Master sifted through it though, and found the dull throbbing.
He burnt it.
“It was just a headache.” She scoffed quietly.
“It was hurting you.” The Master didn’t prod, for once, and went back to threading his fingers through her hair.
The thought crossed his mind, that he was so in control. Maybe not completely, but here the Doctor was, drunk, leaning on him and letting him touch her. He could take whatever he wanted from her mind if he so desired, hurt her, burn her.
“I don’t remember the last time you were blonde.” He murmured, watching a lock of her hair flash in the blue light.
“You like it?”
“Yeah. I do.” He admitted.
“Not used to it. Having longer hair- I mean. Don’t really know what to do with it.”
“Don’t do anything. It’s nice.”
“You put yours up though. It was so elegant. I forgot how hard it was to maintain women’s hair.”
“Well, I’ve always been more elegant than you, my love. Class was never your forte.”
“Elegance is boring.”
“I know. You said that every time we learnt how to master it.”
“Well I had a point!” She threw an arm up, knocking his slightly. His hand jerked out of her hair, and the Doctor let out a puff of annoyance, grabbing his hand and planting it back on her head. The fourth was definitely kicking in. No more alcohol for the Doctor, if he had anything to do with it. “We’re time lords for god sake! All of time and space at our fingertips and we spent time learning how to walk in those stupid robes and eat in that ridiculous regalia.”
But you just didn’t like school.” He pointed out fondly, stroking her hair slowly.
“No. I just wanted to travel with my best friend. See the worlds. Maybe get you to like me back.”
He chuckled.
“The simple life of a 90 year old.” The Doctor hummed in agreement. “Before we got all tangled up.”
“I think we were always tangled up. In one another anyway.” The Doctor murmured, leaning into the touch at her scalp.
He’d meant, with Gallifrey. But he didn’t say that.
“What did you want to see? With me, I mean.”
“Everything.” He could feel the smile on his shoulder, in her voice as she whispered it.
“Well, we still have centuries ahead of us. Never too late to start.” The Master couldn’t believe what he was saying. Was he crazy?
It would never work. It never had. He and the Doctor weren’t compatible, that was a fact, as much as it was true that Gallifrey was gone.
There was nothing for them together, not for long anyway. Still, the Master couldn’t help himself.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to yell at the Doctor, to hold her and to see things with her, to sleep next to her together.
“You’re crazy.” She laughed gently.
“You’re no better.”
“No.” She admitted. “We’re perfect for each other, really.”
“We’re not though. That’s the thing.” He hummed.
“Mmmm,” the Doctor waved a sloppy hand. “Too drunk for contradictions.”
“You should get back to your TARDIS.” He suggested.
“Maybe later. I just want to stay here for a while.”
The Master sighed a little, pressing another kiss to the Doctor’s head and stroking her hair delicately.
It wasn’t perfect. The Doctor was drunk because of him, to forget something he’d done. She was hurting, burning. But, just for now, it was ok. He’d let her burn him up too.
“Ok, my love. Alright.”