Work Text:
You sat on the edge of your couch, arm wrapped around your waist, as your heart pounded against your chest.
Why wasn’t the Master answering his damn phone? Every second that you waited with your phone against your ear, the anxiety built up in your stomach in a vicious flutter, like a bunch of angry butterflies swarming around all at once. You hadn’t talked to him in a while and you weren’t sure if he wanted to hear from you. And frankly, the endless ringing on the line was quite an unnerving indication of what was to come if he did eventually pick up.
That was the Master. He was a hard man to read and understand. His emotions were always out of check. One moment, he would be picking you up and spinning you around in the console room with a toothy grin. The next moment, he was threatening to throw you out into the Time Vortex, his hand around your throat. Somehow, that was the beautiful part about him. When he was having a good day, he was passionate, excitable and a firecracker of endless energy. You always thought of him as gunpowder, easily lit by any sort of match.
But the bad days were just as extreme. Those days, you kept away from him. You lingered in the TARDIS library until he would calm down, a guilty look in his hazel eyes as you’d wander back into the console room to check on him.
You were friends, though he would never admit it. He’d prefer to call you his human pet, but yet, he was always the one who’d come running when you called. Except now, apparently.
You didn’t blame him. When you left him to take a break and enjoy your Earth life for a bit, he didn’t seem happy about it. Though, he played it off. He tinkered around the TARDIS, moving around and avoiding your eyes as you sat in the jump seat, watching him curiously. You needed this, you insisted. You hadn’t seen your family in what felt like years, and since the Master, the ever-so-stubborn Master wasn’t going to allow a “disgusting Earth creature” (your dog) onto his TARDIS, you let your parents adopt him. You wanted to see him again.
But the day you left the TARDIS was hard. When you turned back around with a final wave, you could see the Master's eyes watching you, clouding with loneliness.
But of course, the Master’s mood changed at the drop of a hat. There was no telling how he would react to your phone call. You anxiously tapped your foot against the hardwood floor as it continued to ring. The longer you waited, the more you were starting to regret your idea of calling him.
You groaned and nearly threw it at the wall when you heard a curt voice say, “Y/N. Why are you calling?”
You thought it would be a relief to hear his voice, but now you could hear the bitterness dripping from it. You squinted at the phone for a moment before pressing it back to your ear. Your heartbeat skyrocketed and you swallowed hard. Suddenly, it was like you had a mouth full of cotton. “Master! Hey! How are you?”
He scoffed. “Skip the niceties, human. What do you want? Earth getting too boring for your ape brain?”
Yep. You were fully regretting it now as you heard him breathe into the phone as if you were wasting his time. He seemed to jostle with the phone as if he was tinkering with the other things. Was he seriously going to ignore you like a stubborn child?
He wasn’t normally this rude with you, but you figured it wasn’t the best time to call him out on it. You needed his help. You cleared your throat. “Okay, I-I need you.”
Suddenly, he hummed as if you finally piqued his interest. “What for, little human? Thought humans invented plenty of gadgets for that problem.”
You heaved a sigh. Of course, he would go there. “Ew, no, Master. Not that.”
The Master tutted, seemingly tossing the phone back down. “Wow, you really know how to make your Master feel good about himself.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You aren’t my anything, Master.”
He gave a bitter chuckle, and you heard a buzzing noise. “They really don’t teach you apes manners in school, do they? And to think I allowed you to travel wi—”
“Master, can I please talk?” you interrupted, your voice strangled with exasperation.
You knew that if you didn’t ask him now, then you were never going to ask him. The fear was too built up in your chest now, threatening to cut off your vocal cords. But if you didn’t ask the Master, then you couldn’t go. And if you didn’t go, then you wouldn’t be able to show your face around your hometown anymore. This was a small town where little things mattered. Showing up to your high school reunion? That mattered.
The Master gave an annoyed hum. He always hated it when you bossed him around. It made him sulk and overcompensate in other areas like you threatened his Time Lord-iness.
You hesitated, letting out a shaky breath. “I need you to come…help me.”
“I told you – they make things for that. And why should I help you after this conversation? You’re not exactly making me feel special, princess.”
God, why did he have to be so difficult? You really didn’t want to show up to your high school reunion without a date. Everybody else in your graduating class was married to trust fund babies now. They all had toddlers with atrocious names you couldn’t find on a gift shop keychain. But you? Well, you had a thousand-year-old alien with a Napoleon complex. Cute! Very successful of you!
“Because you’re my friend,” you said, pursing your lips. You knew that wasn’t going to go far, but it came out of your mouth before you could stop it.
The Master laughed bitterly. “You just said, and I quote, I wasn’t your anything, Y/N. How does that make us friends?”
You took the phone from your ear and nearly screamed at it, frustration now replacing the anxiety bubbling in your chest. The Master was having a field day playing with you as if he had you on a little string. You sighed. “Master, please.”
You could almost hear him smile. “I do like it when you beg. Why do you need me?”
You closed your eyes, a hand covering your forehead. Oh, great. This is what you were dreading – the actual explanation. You just need to rip the Band-Aid off and get it out before you could stop yourself and end up dateless. Besides, he could surprise you, right?
“I need you to be my fake husband for my high school reunion.”
It was silent on the end of the line for a moment and you almost feared he hung up on you. After all, being someone’s fake husband wasn’t exactly his forte. The last time he was a fake husband, his fake wife Lucy Saxon shot him and then nearly killed him a second time, leading him to become a shell of his former self. Though the Doctor helped him, it was still hard for him now to live in his current body.
“What in Rassilon’s name is that?”
“A high school reunion? Don’t worry about it. Just show up tomorrow afternoon,” you instructed. “Oh, and please, please, please, not in your hoodie. Wear something nice from your Harold Saxon days.”
He audibly cringed at the name. “You’re pushing it, Earth girl. We’ll see.”
“Please, Mas-“ You stopped. He hung up before you could finish.
You sank into your couch cushion, letting out a tired groan. There was no way he was going to show up. You really did not want to face your old classmates alone. There was no doubt they were still a bunch of vicious idiots years later. There was no way they wouldn’t judge you. You’d have to move off to a different town and adopt a different name. You stared ahead at the wall, wondering if you should start thinking of the excuses now.
But the next day, you were looking into your full-length bathroom mirror, fixing your hair when you could hear the familiar whirring sound of a TARDIS materializing outside. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat. The Master actually came. You stole one more glance at yourself before running to the front door, swinging it open.
“Eager, are we?” The Master asked, a smirk on his face.
“Master, I’m so glad you’re here,” you breathed.
Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him. He was in a suit and a blood-red dress shirt without a tie, the top buttons unbuttoned. His blonde hair was tousled as if he just ran a hand through it. He looked good.
You stepped aside to let him into your apartment, trying to swallow as your breath hitched in your throat. The Master raised an eyebrow at you. “What, Y/N? Did you think I wasn’t capable of being a good date?”
You didn’t even notice the bouquet of white roses at his side until he held them up to you as you gaped at him. Shaking your head, you took them, whispering a thank you as you walked into the kitchen to put them into a vase. You could smell them. They definitely weren’t Earth flowers, but they looked similar.
As you turned back around, you found the Master casually leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, and I got you something else.”
You watched with an arched eyebrow as he dug into one of his pockets and dug out a ring box. “A Master doesn’t kneel, but I had it lying around from my days as Prime Minister…” he trailed off, snapping open the box to reveal a gold wedding band and a beautiful diamond ring.
As you glanced down at the shimmering diamond, the Master cleared his throat. “Well, that’s not Lucy’s old ring. Thought you, uh, deserved better than that.”
You tried your best not to melt at him, but you couldn’t help it. He was being entirely too kind and unlike himself. You slipped on the ring. A perfect fit. As you looked at it, he gave you a wide smile. “Outfit’s complete. You clean up nicely. Well, for a human.”
You chose not to reply, but something about it woke up the flutter in your stomach. You took a breath, raising your eyebrows. “I guess we should go.”
The moment you walked into your old high school’s gym, you instantly regretted it. It was a terrible idea. Your gaze fell on all the cheesy star-shaped balloons and streamers in your high school colors and you wondered if you could back out at this point. You and the Master could go somewhere else for the night – dinner at the local steakhouse, drinks at the hotel bar down the street, a movie at the movie theater? Anything else but this insufferable opportunity for humiliation.
You were about to turn back around when the Master snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you back towards the gathering. There were several tables set up, a DJ playing in the corner and you could already recognize a few of your classmates lingering towards the back of the room. You tensed up. “I can’t do this.”
The Master rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can. C’mon, let’s get a drink.”
He led you in the direction of the bar and you both grabbed cocktails. The alcohol in the drink quickly loosened you up a bit. It didn’t help that the Master insisted on his arm being around your waist the entire time, holding you close. At first, it felt odd, almost unfamiliar, but you soon melted into it, playing off the façade of a happy married couple.
Over the course of the night, you easily dodged interactions with classmates, keeping yourselves to a corner of the gym.
You were watching the dance floor when the Master poked at a balloon with his free hand. “This is quite a party, isn’t it?” he asked sarcastically. “No wonder why you didn’t want to come.”
"The terrible classmates might have something to do with it,” you quipped as you tilted your head at your dancing classmates.
As soon as you said it, the Master’s eyes fell over a couple wandering towards you. “Like them?” he whispered.
You glanced up and tried not to sigh. Yes, exactly like them. The couple consisted of your old high school best friend and her basic-named husband. This was the very same best friend you lost touch with in your sophomore year of college.
They were the last person you wanted to see at this reunion, especially since you hadn’t talked to them since you drifted apart.
You knew she had gone on to become a successful neurosurgeon in the city and married the rich son of a millionaire. You were certainly not living similar lives now, and you really didn't want to interact with her, not since she became a parody of herself.
But as she walked towards you, there was no way out. There was a smile growing on her face. “Y/N!” she shrieked, her voice carrying up like a helium balloon losing air. “I was hoping I’d see you here!”
You resisted the urge to scoff. Of course, she was. Like all the times she was hoping to see you when you both returned home for the holidays, and you never actually hung out with each other. You couldn’t say the same, but you still plastered a fake smile onto your face. “It’s nice to see you.”
She introduced her husband, then extended a hand to the Master, the toothy smile still covering her face. "And who’s this?”
You met the Master’s gaze as he shook her hand. He simply smiled, raising an eyebrow at you as if he couldn’t wait to see how you handled this one. You roped your arm around his waist, playing it up. “This is…uh, Master.”
It sounded just as awkward as you thought it would coming out of your mouth in public. All of the people in your circle, including the Master, stared at you with raised eyebrows as if you just called him a deity. You knew what they were thinking, and you pursed your lips as your old best friend took a sip of her drink, unsure of what to say.
“He’s German,” you said, shrugging as if that explained everything. You reached up to ruffle his blonde hair, much to the Master’s chagrin.
The girl and her husband nodded enthusiastically, smiling as you and the Master cozied up to each other. The husband, whose name you couldn’t remember – Bob? John? Bill? – piped up. “Oh, cool, man, what city?”
The Master cleared his throat, mumbling, “Gallifrey.”
“Never heard of that one before.”
You nodded. “Yeah, well, it’s so small. Practically otherworldly, you know.”
The Master nearly choked on his drink, but he recovered quickly. He gave you a quick squeeze, as he politely smiled, probably wishing he could obliterate the two humans standing in front of him so the conversation could be over.
And to his surprise, you didn’t bother continuing the conversation past yourself. The awkwardness in the air became palpable as you all sipped your drinks to the point of finishing them.
You cleared your throat, placing your glass on the nearest table, saying, “Well, we’re going to dance. It was so, so nice to see you.”
Thankfully, a slow song from your high school years started playing from the speakers, playing into your act. You yanked the Master to the dance floor. He quickly pushed back. “No, no, no, I didn’t agree to dance.”
“Master,” you sighed.
“And German? Really? I have a British accent in this regeneration.” He leaned in. “I was quite literally the Prime Minister.”
“And yet, nobody recognized you, blondie.” You stopped on the side of the dance floor, away from the others, and wrapped your arms around the Master’s neck. “Did you really want me walking into the kink fest that is your name?”
The Master looked dumbfounded as you snapped at him. As if he didn't consider that fact. But he was always amazed when you managed to put him in his place. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped, instead pulling you closer to him.
You began to sway together and his eyes were soft now as he looked at you. “Well, thank you for inviting me, partner,” he said playfully.
You gave a soft chuckle, reaching up to run a finger underneath his chin. “Wouldn’t want it to be anybody else, husband.”