Archive of Our Own

“Doctor? What are you doing here?”

The Master smiled, that big, welcoming smile the Doctor always used to keep her friends away from whatever troubles bothered her. “Hi! I just happened to be nearby and thought, oh what a nice opportunity to visit you!”

Agent O smiled at that, the awkward smile that was meant to cover the surprise, which in turn was covering the real surprise of the Master for whom events were not going according to the plan. The Doctor wasn’t supposed to be here and he didn’t want her here when he wasn’t fully prepared, even if there was no way that woman, having so much of a naive trust in her friends, would have any chance to find anything in his little hut.

If he was to keep up being her friend though, he couldn’t just turn her away, both of them knew it well, so she just waited, smile glued to her face, while he threw a couple of swear words at her mentally (oh if only she could sneak into his mind unnoticed and watch!) before speaking: “This is so nice of you, Doctor, really. I just wish you warned me sooner, I’d– oh, I don’t know, bake cookies or something.”

She made a troubled face. “Ooh, you’re right. I would love a plate of cookies. And a glass of milk with it. Or biscuits! Those go fantastic with milk, you can dip them in and they turn so soft and yummy, don't they?” And she’d rather eat a handful of dirt than something as childish as this, so there was no way she’d warn him about the visit. Besides, his surprise was part of the show. “But don’t worry, some tea will do just fine too!”

“Hmm, I’m glad to hear that.” A few more swear words before he moved to the side, giving her a free way into the house: “Please do come in, Doctor, make yourself at home while I’ll see what I can welcome you with.”

“Thanks!” She entered casually, spreading the comfortable energy of a person that was owning the hut – which she did, or at least used to, but that wasn’t the main point, the main point was to annoy him. The point of this entire visit was to annoy him, actually. “Cozy.”

“You mean messy?”

“You’re right, I do.” That was fun too, to use the Doctor’s exact words, hear him answer with the exact same thing he did before – or will in the future, depending on how she looked at it. It felt like gifting him a slice of delicious cake except she spit into the batter before baking.

She took a slow tour around the hut now, pretending to explore the new place while he put the kettle on and prepared the tea. His glance kept escaping towards her, seemingly just curious and a little shy, but she knew what was hiding underneath; confusion and worry for his grand masterplan. He didn't plan for the Doctor to ever come here before he invited her, before the plan was in full motion and she could do nothing to stop it. Her being here was bad; what if she learned something that led her to his connection to the invasion that was yet to happen? What if she was here to stop him? Worst yet, what if she came from the future where his plan failed and she came here to stop it before anyone died?

The Master smothered a smirk that threatened to appear on her lips at those thoughts and casually put her hands into the pockets of the grey coat she was wearing. Getting the exact replica of the Doctor's outfit would be no challenge at all, so she decided to make it harder for herself and steal the original one. Tracking the Doctor's TARDIS was simple enough; the Master followed it around until the perfect opportunity came, with the ship's owner and her little pets being far away, busy with some sort of adventure, and sneaked inside to raid the closet. The outcome was a perfect disguise and pockets full of random trinkets, most of which seemed to be just trash or items that could only be useful in very specific situations: a bag of salted chips (which she had to admit she ate almost immediately after finding the bag; even the Master herself had some weaknesses), a few meters of rainbow ribbon, handful of pet toys (for the companions she assumed), Artron energy detector and around fifteen sticks, just to name a few. Of course nothing had its rightful place and trash was mixed with stuff that could possibly be useful, like a bunch of candy wrappers which were sitting right next to a wrench and a winter hat. What was even the point of keeping all those important items when one would have to spend half an afternoon searching for a specific one? Her pockets were always neat and clean from anything that didn’t belong there, it was so much easier that way.

Either way, those pockets were not hers but she still had to pretend they were, meaning she ought to learn the pattern in that chaos eventually, which she honestly wasn’t looking forward to. Mess was fine, sometimes, when she was its creator, or when she could watch it from the side, not when she was forced to live with someone else’s.

The kettle began to whistle, which made the younger Master jolt, forced out of his confused focus on her. “So, Doctor.” He spoke, pouring the boiling water into their cups. “You mentioned how you were nearby and, well – apologies if I’m being rude, but – with you being you, I have to assume it wasn’t just a casual trip. Would you like to share some details? Unless, uh, it’s some sort of secret? Then again, I can keep one, you know. It’s not like I have anyone to tell it to anyway.”

Playing on her emotions, trying to make her pity him? How cute. It would probably work, too, if she was the correct target.

“Oh, well, it’s not a big secret! And don’t worry, you’re not being rude, my life must look crazy from the outside view. Mostly because it really is crazy, once you look from the inside.” She was so good, wasn’t she? Fitting into the role so well, he had no idea what was really going on. “I was investigating the roos.”

“The… Kangaroos?” He made sure, his tone uncertain; she managed to confuse him further. 

“Exactly! I've got some info, you see, that some of them are aliens. Which ones, and what kind of alien, wasn't precised, so I'm checking all around the world.”

“Doctor, kangaroos don't live all around the world.”

“Sure they are, in zoos and breeding farms and such! Well, maybe not exactly all around the world still, but who knows which ones are suspicious? See, I was checking Australia first, the most obvious choice, and as I was scanning them nearby I thought – I haven't seen my friend O for a while, I should pop in and check on him.”

“Well, I'm fine, thanks for asking.” It seemed that he swallowed the explanation with no suspicion, the idiot. Now he put down the tea on a small table, one of the many in the hut; this one was square and covered with a cloth, the Master remembered he'd usually use it to eat, whenever he felt like eating in the hut instead of much nicer dining room, hidden behind the passage to the rest of the ship. “Come sit down, let's have some tea. All I found was crackers, would you like some?”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds good.” The Master said from the ladder she was climbing to take a look at the small space above the room. She knew exactly what she’d see: a big mattress, enough for at least two people, with enough pillows to please an average fairytale princess; he liked his comfort during sleep, even if he was forced to do it here instead of his usual TARDIS bedroom. “Is that where you sleep? Looks cozy. And this time I really mean it! It's almost like a bunk bed but cooler.”

“Don't– please Doctor, it's a mess there. Nothing interesting there, I promise, it's just where I sleep.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy.” Pretending she didn't see what he was really trying to hide – the passageway to the rest of the TARDIS, through the hidden panel next to the mattress – she jumped off the ladder and approached the table he sat at. “Thank you. So, how's life recently? You're enjoying your little hermit life?”

“Uh, I wouldn't call it hermit life… I mean, how many hermits do you know that have a whole wall of computers? The Internet reaches even the outback here. So does the phone signal so you know, you can always text me before your visit…” He smiled awkwardly and she tried not to puke in response to his terrible act. Stars above, how did the Doctor not see right through him? Was it because he was caught by surprise and still didn't get his reactions under control, or was the Doctor simply blind? Of course, they usually couldn't see through her disguises – which was curious, really, they were such a brilliant person! So handsomely smart, really, what blinded them when it came to her fake personas? – but she had to give him, he had no way to expect the Doctor to appear today. Or anyone, really, not in a place so far away from civilization. Anyway, the Master could very clearly see through those dark eyes, see the angry confusion spilling from the timid awe he used against their dearest enemy. For her, it worked, since he was exactly what she wanted from a companion; for the Master though, the act was just simply ridiculous. She would kill him for being so lame, except who knew if she would even happen then? There was no way to prove it, but she strongly suspected that the circumstances of his death caused her to put on that particular face.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry, again. I guess I just got a little too excited to see my friend.”

“I don't blame you! I mean, it's a pleasure to see you too, so…” Now he blushed and she knew it was fully controlled; so many of her pets had at least a small crush on her, it was a safe act to apply to his disguise to make it work better.

Besides… She was ashamed to admit, it was easy to play someone charmed by the Doctor. That lovely flush was definitely not hard to achieve, not when he believed he was looking at them.

A thought struck her and she took a small sip of the tea, pondering her next move. Since he chose to be a pet with a crush… Perhaps she could play around with his play?

“Come on O, I’m too old for you to try to flirt with me like this.”

That was highly out of character; despite their general love for being admired, this face of the Doctor, like many (if not all) others, was completely blind to her pets’ feelings towards her, even when it was as obvious as whatever Yaz had going on. An adorable girl, the Master actually hoped she got a chance to express her feelings. She was one of the rare ones she found mostly amusing instead of annoying.

Huh, perhaps she really should pay that girl a visit…

As the Master pondered at what to do with Yaz, she also watched O’s face; she caught him off guard again, made those already impossibly big eyes widen even more and if she focused, she could see in them the same thought that passed her mind too: the Doctor was too blind to notice anyone’s feelings towards them, their own wife probably had to spell it out for them with the stars visible on the Earth’s sky for it to actually reach that stubborn mind – so what was happening here?

Finally, he realized that silence stretched for too long and chose to stammer with embarrassment: “I wasn’t– I mean, you… I’d never… Not that you’re not hands–”
“I was joking! Please don’t take it too seriously, I’d hate to upset you.” As she said that, the Master shook her head energetically to stop him from digging deeper into the act. That should be what this Doctor would do, right? At the mere sight of anyone saying they might find her beautiful or have feelings for her, she’d nip it in the bud. At least that’s what happened any time she’d try to get closer to her as O: a quick change of subject to something less sensitive. It was weird, with this one; the usual enjoyment of someone’s admiration mixed with general fear of letting anyone get too close. Well, she supposed that old habits died hard, even when the memories of most recent losses petrified the Doctor with fear. Maybe not that weird then.

Perhaps killing their previous adoptee was a wrong move. Fun at the time, yes, but in consequence O had a much harder time getting close enough to her, having to firstly get through the walls of their distrust to keep their friends alive and well.

Then again, she was long past that act, so who cared?

“I’m not– upset. I just didn’t mean to come out as someone flirting with you so I got a little embarrassed…”

Okay, that was less fun than she expected. Threw him off more, yes, so not a complete loss, but for Rassilon’s sake, did he have to be so annoying? He was seriously asking to be tortured at least a little bit today. Honestly, this disguise was utterly undignifying, surely there were better options to get to the Doctor's hearts. Couldn't he pick up a role more like that one explosion lover? Ace, wasn't it? At least he'd then get some joy out of destroying things at the Doctor's order. That would surely feel nice to rub in later on, after the reveal.

But again, that disguise was in the past and all the Master had left of it was a faint shame of her younger self’s idiocy. She could probably live with that. Who wasn't acting stupid in their youth, right?

“Let's forget I ever made that comment, it was silly of me.” The Master offered and her previous face nodded quickly, looking relieved. Or at least O looked relieved; underneath, her past self seemed to be processing her words so far. It was doubtful that he was suspecting her as he didn't see that Doctor before and so didn't know her character in full, she made sure of that; this way even if she acted somehow out of character he shouldn't be able to catch it. “Anyways, your hut! Very lovely, I must say. Cluttered, yes, but who am I to judge that? You should see my workshop, an absolute mess, and I don't have limited space like you do! How do you humans live like that?” A casual comment that wasn't meant to land as rude, and yet; something that the Doctor very much did sometimes and something that came to her very easily. After all, she fully enjoyed insulting others, although her comments were meant to hurt.

“I manage.” O shrugged. “I'm pretty content here, with the little I have.”

“Really? It must be so hard. I mean– I didn’t even see the bathroom, where do you even… Do your business? Or shower?”

That made him blink and the Master could easily read into that single blink; this wasn’t a question he expected. She was pretty sure he either forgot about adding such a trivial room or didn’t care to add one and was counting on the Doctor never asking about it. Which was it, she couldn’t remember well, it was so long ago.

“Well, uh… For showers, I make it work with basin and water from the sink, same with laundry. For… other things… I just go outside. If you know what I mean.” Now he was so wonderfully red on the face she almost wanted to congratulate him on the act. “So if you, um, need to go, you might want to go to your TARDIS. Where is it anyway?” A very smooth way of asking that, she had to admit.

“Oh shoot, I didn’t mean to embarrass you like this O, I’m sorry!” She almost reached out to touch his hand, then thought the better of it; this Doctor wasn’t much of a toucher. “Please don’t answer my questions if they’re too invasive, I’ll understand. Sometimes I don’t realize how blunt I can be.”

“It’s fine! I mean… You’re observant, that’s it. And curious. Very curious.”

“Too curious for my own good sometimes, you mean.” With a laugh, she reached for a cracker. In a way, she was glad that was all he could find, she was not in the mood to pretend she liked whatever kinds of cookies he’d manage to find. That one truly had a sweet tooth, unlike her. So did his Doctor though, which was perhaps the only thing they had in common. “My TARDIS? Oh, it’s a few miles north, left it there while I was investigating the kangaroos.” True, to a part; she had a few reasons to leave her ship away from him, like not wanting to alert his own TARDIS or to risk him wishing to see inside. She changed the exterior to look like the Doctor’s ship, yes, so if he really wanted to he could see the blue box on the horizon, but changing the console room seemed like too much effort for too little gain. Besides, she was fine with a short jog here. “Business aside, don't you ever get bored out here? Or lonely? It's such a tiny hut, so far away from… Literally everything. Internet or not, sometimes you just need to see people. Can't get hugs from a text message!”

“Give it a few years and who knows with technology anymore?” O joked. “Truth be told, yes, it gets a little lonely sometimes, even for someone who enjoys their peace like me but it’s alright. I chose that life myself, it’s… Honestly, it’s better that way. I couldn’t find myself well, working in the MI6 office, I felt too much out of place, you know? I could hear them laughing at me like oh, look at that weirdo who keeps talking about aliens like they’re real!” The self-pity in his voice and eyes was actually admirable, she had to give him that he was really feeling the role. “I always wondered, were they blind? Or just locked in their basements all those times we had an alien invasion going on and you came in to save the day?”

“Well, many of those were swept under the rug by UNIT, to be frank.” The Master shrugged with another cracker in hand, some crumbs in the corners of her lips (that she left there deliberately and hated the feeling of them), then added as an afterthought: “While they were still around, that is. They’re still not back, are they?”

“Still? So there’s hope they’ll return? Oh how I wish. I always dreamed about working there – you can imagine how devastated I felt to learn the entire organisation had been dissolved.”

“I could pull a few strings to get you to work there, you know. Once it’s back?”

But he shook his head with a soft smile. “No, thank you, Doctor. I want to get there with my own skills, if possible.” And behind those words she could see the clear message: he’d hate to work there, with annoying Kate Steward and even more annoying Zygon with an inhaler. Sure, they were fun to mess with from time to time, but to have to deal with them on a daily basis?... He’d go insane if he wasn’t there already.

“I believe you’re more than skilled for that job, O. But I’ll respect your decision. Give me a call if it changes though, alright?

“Of course!” He – the Master, not just O – seemed more relaxed now that they moved on from embarrassing him with talks about crushes and bathrooms; he seemed thoughtful as he finally reached for his first cracker and put it in his mouth. After it dissolved with saliva, he swallowed and focused on her face, something O wasn’t really used to, not for too long, since he was meant to be the shy nerd type – and in that moment, the Master realized that perhaps she made some sort of mistake to guarantee such a look. “Doctor?”

“Yes?” She asked, then pretended to be distracted by the leather armchair close to their table; she put down her cup and stood up only to fall down onto it, giving herself a perfect view on a bunch of furniture, boxes and various items set in the middle of the room, partially serving as tables for lamps and magazines. “Ooh, that’s nice. Such a lovely chair! Very comfortable.”

But that didn’t manage to distract him at all. “Doctor, speaking of your skills… How did you know where I live?”

“Huh?” The Master reached out to turn off the lamp on the tiny table between the one O was sitting at and her armchair, leaving that corner of the room much dimmer; she could see his eyes still focused on her, gleaming with the weak light shining through the partially covered windows. “What do you mean? You told me, obviously.”

Silence fell for a moment too long as her former self carefully put away his cup so he could rest his elbows on the table and chin on his fists, his eyes now seemingly chained to her face. “Did I, really?”

“Of course.” She held his gaze now, keeping up that friendly smile.

“Then I suppose it complicates things, Theta.”

At the sound of the Doctor's childhood nickname, the Master allowed her smile to drop, the sunshine dying out on her face. It was easy, actually, to wipe that smile away, even fake as it was, at that moment, since the name he recalled always brought back so many memories – memories that nowadays hurt more than they used to. He had to feel it too, they were almost on the same boat in terms of that, and yet he chose to use it, why? In hopes that it would deal more damage to the Doctor than it did to him? Oh, he was always so prone to self-harm. “What? How do you–”

“Oh, stop playing. We both know well that there's only one way I’d invite you here, one specific point in time. A point that didn't come for me just yet, but it did for you, didn't it?”

His face remained a mask, although a fragile one; not exposing himself fully just yet, still having faint remains of patience that left him back on that plane, leading to reveal a moment too soon. Oh, how many times did she replay that moment in her mind? Cherishing the lovely memory shared with her greatest enemy, recalling every single change on her face and delighting in those? And still wondering, what if? What if he didn’t drop the act so fast, impatient as always, and instead waited for her to pick up the more subtle clues?

Ah, no matter. The moment was still a sweet one, even if the plan didn’t turn out as expected. Those long seventy seven years were a small price to pay for seeing the Doctor frozen in shock as she realized who exactly she befriended.

The Master stood up from her armchair and slowly made her way towards the kitchenette so she could turn off the lamp over there, shining above the refrigerator. The other Master kept watching her, turning on his chair as she passed by him. Once that source of light was off, she glanced towards him. “What do you want me to say, O?”

“Don't use that name.” He answered immediately, almost barking out those words, his impatience leaking through.

She poked at it, for fun. “What name should I use then?”

“Drop the act.”

“No, really. You just used Theta so I'm not entirely sure what ground we are standing on. Back to being besties? Hard to believe, given that you personally burned down the very fields we tied our friendship on.”

“There we go.” He whispered, watching as she moved on to turn off the lamp near the door, then kept walking across the room, from lamp to lamp, turning each one off – he had so many, it was almost a chore on its own. “Come on, Doctor. You know what I want, just say it.”

“You don't deserve anything from me.” Finally, she reached the two lamps at his computer station, brightest of them all even while hidden behind the sheet curtain, and pressed the switches for those as well. There was still the dimmed light shining through the windows but she decided against messing with the curtains; with their faces covered in half-shadows, it was dark enough for her to drop the sunshine mask and put on another one. Her face dropped into serious expression, her eyes cold and filled with hatred, just like she remembered the Doctor looking at her. Her voice was almost flat, with just a sliver of anger being let out as she said the next word: “Koschei.”

Her past self sucked a breath in and finally looked away, blinking; the blade he tried to use against her cut his own fingers and she watched him bleed in front of her, tears of pain threatening to break through. She remembered being him, the feeling of inferiority and absolute loss of everything he ever believed in. The face in front of her was so young, the discovery still so fresh in his mind, he didn't have time to process it, and she probably just deepened it by acting like the mention of their good past didn't matter.

Well, fortunately she had time to process at least some of it. For the rest that remained, probably even the best therapist in the entire Universe wouldn't help. Maybe even a complete erasure of those memories wouldn't be enough.

“So. Now that the formalities are behind us…” The younger Master stood up too and faced her, half of the room separating them. Somehow he managed to collect himself pretty quickly, his face back to relative calmness. If his eyes were still a little watery, she couldn't tell from that distance. “What are you really doing here, Doctor? Did you come here to gloat about yet another victory? Come on, I know it had to happen, you wouldn't stand here like this if my plan went as it should. If you're here to tell me how much better you are than me then spare us the details. I don't care. I don't care because I can see in your eyes that you're not from too far in the future. You wouldn't look at me like this if you knew exactly why I burned those fields you so nostalgically recalled.”

The Doctor would probably swallow the hook he just casted but the Master wasn't interested in stroking his ego or hearing him gloat about keeping secrets until the right time came. It wasn’t fun from this side of the situation, even if she’d just have to pretend to not know. “I’m not here to gloat.”

“Why then?” Curiously, he turned his head around, glancing at all the lamps she turned off, as if he only now noticed the dimness she left them in.

That explanation was something she prepared in advance as it would be stupid to not expect that he’d sooner or later come to the conclusion she was the Doctor from his future.

“I needed to see your face. Or rather O’s face, before everything happened. I wanted…” She paused and stepped closer to one of the windows to look out, leaving herself fully in the daylight. That’s how it was supposed to be, if she really was the Doctor: her, in full light and him in dark shadows. Unfortunately the lighting didn’t work exactly as she wanted it to, wasn’t sharp enough and didn’t give big enough contrast but she’d work with what she was given. He’d feel it anyway.

Looking outside, she continued: “I wanted to see if I could see you in his face. You hid yourself so well, I didn’t realize then that something was wrong, and I needed to make sure there were imperfections to your mask that I was just too blinded to see. Was there really the Master in my friend?”

“Really.” There was a cold amusement to his voice; when she turned to him, she saw a sneer skewing his lips. “Really, Doctor? So what’s the answer, then? Could you see me, after all? Were you able to pick apart what belonged to O and what was a slip on my part? Were you? No!” He shouted suddenly, the sound way too loud for the hut, the dim ambience, the tense moment; at least he looked a little embarrassed before continuing, back to a more suiting volume of soft words passing his lips and reaching to wrap around her mind like silk. Briefly, she wondered if it really worked on the Doctor. “No matter what you may tell yourself… No, Doctor, you didn’t see anything. Do you know why?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

At that he smirked, and she indulged in imagining herself tying him tightly to a spiked chair, each spike covered in poison that would slowly make its way into his bloodstream and kill him a little more with every beat of his hearts as she tried various murderous tools on his body. Perhaps she couldn't really do any of that, but who could stop a girl from dreaming?

While she imagined him as the central piece of her personal rage room, O spoke: “How well do you even know O, Doctor? Sure, we texted quite a bit – or, for him it was quite a bit, I’m sure it was much less for you, spread across a good few centuries – but what’s texting compared to meeting in the flesh? People can be so much different online than they are once you really meet them! It’s so much easier to hide your true nature when you don’t even need to keep in check your face or tone of voice. You’ve only seen O once, Doctor. Once, for one short day, how is that enough to know his face and the subtle changes in it that would betray me?” He laughed now, cruel and cold, and the Master had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, instead adding some more anger into them. Given the way his eyes narrowed slightly, he noticed that fire. “You’ve been keeping your friends at a distance, dear. Worried to break them, are you? Do you believe you can protect them better if they don’t see into your hearts? Oh, perhaps you’re right. I won’t judge your way of treating favourite pets since usually I make mine die in interesting ways. Maybe that approach works to keep them safe… But it also came to bite you and oh, how sharp its teeth are!” Now he giggled with sheer delight and bared his own teeth at her, so white in the shadow he remained in. As he spoke, every so often his hands would move in a fidgety way, playing with his fingers, fumbling with the sleeve of his shirt or slipping into the pockets of his pants, only to be pulled out again shortly; at first the Master believed it was only a part of the disguise but now she was forced to realize that she used to do all those things unconsciously. Why was his body so annoyingly unsteady? Trauma response, after everything that happened on that Mondasian ship and afterwards? Maybe. She was never aware enough of those to ponder upon it.

“Feeling proud of yourself, I see.” Saying that, she finally stepped away from the window and closer to him; his body tensed with anticipation but she stopped in the middle of the room, still at a distance from where he stood next to the table with the slowly cooling down tea.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I made a fool of you, Doctor. Sure, I’ve tricked you before, so many times, so many disguises… But never to such a deep level. I almost became your companion, imagine that! Traitor on board… Not the first time, from what I’ve heard, but the worst one for sure. I might still do it some day, actually, I’ll just have to wait for when your guards drop down. But anyway… Of course I’m feeling proud, love. I’ve won that battle, and the war is never over.”

“Now you’re rambling.” The Master said, then cocked her head, intrigued, having felt… Something. Somehow. It was like noticing a movement in the corner of her eye, except sight wasn't the sense she experienced it through.

“Oh, stop being so dismissive, you don't have to pretend. Not here, not with the lights off and eyes of your companions turned away. Come on, hit me with it.”

“With what.” She said, looking at him like he was merely a pile of something particularly disgusting, her voice so flat it barely counted as a question. 

“Anger! Hatred. Your superiority.” Her tone seemed to hit at the right place; his shoulders dropped and his stance hunched, making him appear smaller than he really was. Delicious, she thought, stepping closer so she could look at him from above and almost smiled at the way he faltered. Still, he continued: “I know it's there, I can see it. Just let it all out, it’s just us girls here, I won’t judge.”

“In case you didn’t notice you’re not Missy anymore, so drop that just us girls talk.” It still hurt just a little bit to think about Missy, the memory of her sorry end pushing itself in front of any good memory she’d ever make in that body; still, time was healing that part of her broken soul, as smoothly as a broken bone healing on its own, without splints or casts or – stars forbid – any doctors. However while it hurt her a little, it had to hurt him like hell, the memories still so fresh; and sure enough, she noticed him flinch a little and look to the side, muttering something about old habits dying hard. “Why do you want me to let it out, anyway? You know I hate you. You know I’m furious about what you’ve done. And, most importantly…” Her words hung in the air, unfinished sentence waiting for its end as she took those last few steps to stand right in front of him and lean in close, so close she could sense his cologne, a little too expensive for someone like O; even in disguise he refused to smell badly and was counting on the Doctor not being acknowledged in what perfumes a self-proclaimed hermit would wear. Well, her nose could easily recognize it even if she couldn’t exactly remember the scent she was using back then. “Most importantly, you know you’re inferior to me, Master. I don't need to spell it out for you to feel insecure about it. Would it be easier for you, if I screamed in anger? If I told you you're nothing but dirt underneath my soles and that I hate your mere existence?” She wanted to tell him more; she wanted to spit hate onto his face until he squirmed underneath her like a nasty bug; but suddenly she found out that the words got stuck in her throat that suddenly tightened, choking and preventing her from speaking further, and her eyes got a little watery, probably from that uncomfortable feeling. Her past blinked, once, his eyes rounding with surprise as he also expected more insult to come, but all she could force herself to do was to clear her throat – which helped only slightly – and sneer at him, her features twisting ugly, in a way she remembered her sneering at him; in a way that usually made him wish he could kiss all those angry lines on her face and deepen them. Which obviously could never happen with those two incarnations.

“That would make things clearer, yes.” He admitted softly.

“You seem to be an even bigger masochist this time round.” Her head snapped to the side, trying to catch the same sensation that bothered her before, now stronger. It was a warning, like the bright colours on venomous animals. Something was off and the nature of that thing was slowly crawling out of her subconsciousness to the front of her mind.

“Maybe. You wouldn't blame though, if you knew what I know.” His eyes were so wide and focused on her face again; he was searching for reaction, hoping to feed on it. 

But she wasn't here to feed him so, still a little distracted, she said: “Oh I'm sure you have your grand moment where you'll finally tell me already prepared in detail. I'm not in the mood to play your games today.”

“Seems so, yes.” He admitted, straightening his back a little; she bared her teeth in a grimace but he was so focused on her face, he forgot to react to its changes. “What were you tinkering with today?”

“What?” That question threw her off completely and dissolved painted anger into more genuine surprise. In response, her past self scrunched his nose and sniffed at her.

“Engine oil, pretty fresh. You came here fresh from TARDIS repairs?”

She had to come up with an answer on the fly. “It was needed, there was damage that happened during my flight here.”

“What kind of damage?”

“To your face if you insist on annoying me.” Insultingly weak come back but she felt like her seams were being pulled at, making her dissociate from the conversation.

“How very mature of you. Is that your anger finally showing, or are you flirting with me?”

“Shut up. It was minor console damage, the yearometer was malfunctioning, I couldn’t get the readings clear enough to land.” That had to be enough of an explanation, she reckoned.

But something changed in him; he wasn’t trying to hide himself in a smaller frame anymore, the curiosity making him poke his head out of the metaphorical box that his feeling of inferiority was trying to stuff him in so far. He even leaned in and reached out his hand, almost touching the lapel of not-her grey coat; but paused a few millimetres away, not brave enough. Not worthy enough.

“Doctor…” He whispered, taking in her image, the yellow braces, rainbow across her chest, shoes that were worn out but not by her. There was a weird tone to this word but she couldn’t focus on it when the sudden realization of what exactly was trashing around her subconsciousness hit her like a massive headache and this time she was the one to falter, like a weakling, like a failure – and he raised his eyebrows, watching it. “Where is she?”

The Master took a careful breath in and did her best to straighten her back. That was what she was feeling the last few minutes; him figuring her out. The slow unwinding of their timeline as he noticed something off and looked deeper, until he figured out – she wasn’t the Doctor. Perhaps he couldn’t tell exactly who she really was, but once he figured out the first part, the second was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

She closed her eyes, focusing on that feeling – that tingly taste at her fingers, the sharp smell she could hear so clearly now – and yes, there was no doubt to it; that was the paradox she was sensing, unwrapping itself to close the both of them in its grasp. They were both Time Lords so it would remain contained to some point, their kind prepared for such instances, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d come out of this meeting protected by the lack of memories.

That wasn’t a part of the plan; she didn’t mean to reveal herself to him at all, just tried to play with him as the Doctor and if her plan succeeded, there would be no need for a paradox; they'd both be safe and remembering the encounter, although he'd understand it differently. But maybe that was alright. She could still play with him a little, as herself.

First though, she wanted to feed her curiosity. “What betrayed me?”

“I asked first.”

“Who’s childish now?” She rolled her eyes at him and stepped away, to look at the shelf where he put all the documents regarding their best enemy. “I don’t know. The last I heard of her, she had gone through two regenerations and was running around the Universe as usual. Is that enough of an answer?”

“Let’s say it is.” He reached to the lamp nearest their table and turned it on; now he was the one in the light. “Enough of shadows, I think, now I want to see your face… It wasn’t obvious at first, I’ve got to be honest you’re good, whoever you are. But the way you refused to react to the destruction of Gallifrey seemed off to me. That idiot hated this shitty planet but she also loved it more than she was willing to admit. Much like she feels about me, if you think about it.”

The Master winced, hating to have her lies – or avoidance of the truth – exposed by yet another person in such a short time. There was a need to work on her blindness, as soon as possible. “So that’s all? Me not being angry enough?”

“Oh, not acting angry would be fine. But there was no fire at all in your eyes when we touched that topic… Weird. Got me thinking. And once I started thinking, I noticed your posture. Oh yes, you try to hunch the way she does but when she does it, you can see it’s a stance of someone who already curved their spine the wrong way by years of wrong posture while your hunch is of someone who’s used to a better one. And then, that engine oil… Yes, she usually smells like she just crawled out from inside the console, but yours is… How do I describe it?... Too obviously faked. You don't smell like you accidentally got some engine oil on yourself, you smell like you purposefully put on yourself enough of that thing so people around you would notice. Subtle difference, really. Oh, and the scent of soap is too obvious under it, you can barely smell it from her.” Damn, so she was too hygienic? Not something she really wanted to change in herself… “But now there's a small problem that needs solving.”

“I believe I can guess what it is.” Obviously; there was no recognition in his eyes.

“Yes, well. I must notice, you got right the specific oil that's used in the time ships, and you were quick to come up with a specific part that got damaged. You have knowledge of TARDISes, and you have enough knowledge of the Doctor to make an almost perfect disguise of her. Almost; so not a Zygon, they're impeccable in their art.” He moved to sit down on the armchair she abandoned, his pose too self-confident to ever suit O. It barely suited him, those times, but his feeling of inferiority was something he tried to hide from most people and now he tried to pretend like she didn't see his moment of weakness. “Who are you then, you face stealing time traveller? You little TARDIS thief?”

“Oh, that's interesting. What makes you assume I stole a TARDIS?” She laughed softly, still partially distracted by the paradox, nudging at her like a dog demanding attention. The feeling made her head spin a little and her mouth water. It was… Tasty. Chaotic, in a way this face of hers seemed to enjoy. She wanted more.

“As I said, you have the knowledge of them. Except you couldn't be a rightful owner of one… After what I've done, there are only two people left that may claim that title.”

“Yes.” Her head cocked to the side as she observed him, sitting with one ankle resting on top of the other leg's knee; so casual despite the carefulness in his eyes. He still didn't know what to make of her but was playing along. “And we just ruled out one of them. So your assumption is I must be someone entirely else?”

“There are many TARDISes without a proper owner right now, it's easy to just take one. Even easier to learn how to fly it, if you actually use the manual.” Those dark eyes narrowed slightly; he didn't like how confident she looked, how her back straightened into her usual stance – she was done pretending anyway – or how she licked her lips thoughtfully, which he couldn't know was a reaction to sensing that sweet, shiny twirl in time. How could he not sense it? Or maybe he did, the way she did before realizing what it was. Maybe it would come to him in a moment.

“So let's summarize. You assume I'm someone who found, took and learned the ways of the TARDIS, someone who can change their appearance, picked up the face of the Doctor and was able to copy her well enough to almost fool you. Thus you must be assuming I know her, otherwise I wouldn't know her mannerisms. Alright. What's your answer to me being here, though? Why would I risk coming here and getting my TARDIS confiscated by, as you put it, one able to claim the title of rightful owner of the ship? What use would I have of pretending to be the Doctor and coming here, into this desolated place, with you as the only person?” She strode across the room until she stood in front of his chair; then, she leaned in and rested hands on its arms, her face low and so close to his, she could sense the paradox in the air he was breathing out. So wrong. So against the laws of Time. So intoxicating. “Why do you insist this must be the explanation over the more palpable one?”

“What do you even…” He paused, his mind still refusing to accept that; the Master could see that he still didn’t understand despite his brains screaming the truth at him. Yes, she could understand, she could barely believe she was this lucky too.

“Why did you choose that nickname? Why O?” She asked, softly, her eyes on his lips; they parted slightly, the shock and the distinct taste of the wound in time leaving his mouth opened.

“To laugh in her face when she gasps in shock as she finally realizes who I am.” That wasn’t even gloating as the answer clearly came out of his mouth without much thinking being put into it because his brains were busy with more nagging thoughts. He put both of his feet on the floor, as if trying to ground himself, and leaned away from her, back pressing into the armchair. In response she simply closed the distance again, fixated on that delicious feeling. Was he enjoying it also? She wasn't sure, and so wasn't he just yet, still processing what she already understood.

“Yeah, yeah. That too. But that was also a clue, one you didn't really expect her to catch even after the grand reveal.” She wanted to touch him, deepen the tear in the fabric of time; in a moment. Once he understood. “Am I right, Koschei Oakdown?”

His eyes opened so wide she could see the stars in them, the tiny sparkles of clues she offered him connecting into a constellation of understanding. His breath hitched and fingers tightened on the armrests as he felt the timelines swirling around them, time trying to soothe its ripples to make sure that this meeting would not lead to a paradox; they both could sense it being pushed away by their own ability as a Time Lord to remain safe during crossing of their path. She knew it was for the best as to keep her own creation secured in his future but still couldn't help the feeling of regret; it would be such a lovely, chaotic event!

Blindly chasing that feeling, the Master did something no sane time traveller would: she leaned in even further, until her lips pressed against his.

It was a positively electric experience; she could sense the current of time flowing around them, trying to wash over them and smooth down the wrongness of this moment. Sparks passed between them, not of passion; she didn't care for that, wasn't that much of a freak to feel anything towards him – he was almost a kid, after all. No, it was their sixth sense freaking out in a way that left her feeling so wonderfully thrilled.

Her past could easily break the moment, turn his face away from her and stop that moment of insanity – but he didn’t; and neither did he reciprocate the kiss, his body so still in the trap of the armchair. Not frozen, she judged, just stunned by that overwhelming sense that grasped both of them, a sense she could spend all day explaining in that idiotic human language and still not be anywhere near making herself clear. It was something no species without time sense could describe, something that most of her kind would find worrying (or frightening, given how weak some of them were in comparison to her); perhaps that’s why they thought her insane, because none of them could find joy where she did. Their loss, really.

The contact didn’t go deeper than a chaste press of their lips, almost too pure to count as a real kiss, but it didn’t need to be anything more; really, she could simply take his hand or punch face for the same effect, but the mix of shock and enjoyment on his face when she pulled away was enough to assure her she made the right choice. He enjoyed the sense of time gritting under their lips almost as much as she did; truly they were a creature of chaos, even if they felt it to varying degrees in different bodies.

He blinked now, his eyelids falling down slowly and rising again so he could keep looking at her; his mouth opened to speak and head turned slightly to the side as if he was worried she’d shut him up with another kiss. “You are– you’re me. You must be, I’m the only one who could possibly know that O is short for Oakdown. I’ll become you but how? How is that possible? This face, it’s–”

“Stolen, yes.” Finally, she straightened her back and stepped away, fishing out a lip balm from her pocket. The Doctor never used such things, probably out of forgetfulness, so when she was putting on a disguise her lips were always getting terribly dry, not protected by anything. Really the length she could go to keep up the lie… “Don’t ask me the details, I can only guess them myself but yes, I’m your next face. Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Immensely.” He admitted, raising hand to rub his own lips thoughtfully. “I can already imagine all the things we could be up to with such a face.”

“Yes, I’ve been pretty busy making up plans.”

“And one of them was to cross your own timeline?”

She could feel his mind probing subtly at hers and laughed; pathetic. As if she would let him anywhere near her thoughts and memories. Even she wasn’t that reckless. “Drop it, you won’t learn anything more than I’m willing to share. Yes, I chose to come here, and I had a good reason for it.”

As she spoke, she shrugged off the coat and lowered the yellow braces, so she could remove the top t-shirt; her past self made an embarrassing noise as he watched, then tried to collect himself when she picked up the coat again. “What the hell are you…”

“I don’t need to pretend anymore so I refuse to wear that ridiculous rainbow. My own TARDIS is too far away to actually go change though, so I deal with it like this.”

“Why not just use a holographic copy of her clothes?” He suggested curiously, looking up and down at her. With just the white top the whole outfit looked much more plain; still not something she’d willingly wear as herself but much better than Doctor’s usual outfit.

“I did not steal her outfit to now wear a fake copy. Too much risk of it being recognized as one anyway.”

“It's really hers, you say?” He looked mildly impressed and a bit curious, eyes snapping at the blue piece of clothing she discarded recklessly on one of the file cabinets. She needed to remember to take it with her later or she didn't even want to guess what he'd do with a t-shirt the Doctor wore. Him burning it to ashes was the most optimistic outcome. “I must say, I admire the dedication.”

“If we weren't dedicated to our art of disguise, you wouldn't be here, spending years on Earth of all places.” She hummed, busy fixing her hair that ruffled during the undressing. She was trying not to look into his eyes too long anymore, not liking the gleam in them. Yes, it was a gleam of excitement for such a lovely future awaiting him, but it was only part of it; she tried not to read too deeply into the other part.

“I know! Impressive how much we can endure for the sake of our plans, isn't it?” He stood up and, ignoring her warning glance, stepped close, took her hands into his own. He was still hunching but less, more naturally, and with her straight posture he looked shorter than she was; she wondered if the Doctor got the kick out of it. “But gorgeous me, you didn't answer my question.”

She was gorgeous, she had to agree; the Doctor was always beautiful in their eyes no matter what face, but this one was of special beauty that didn't just connect to them being her best and only enemy. Of course he would never admit that to the Doctor herself – but to his own future, why not? That could be his only chance to express it.

So she let it slip and didn't punch him for daring to touch her. “Yes. Why here, you asked? Well, I needed a playground. Somewhere I could test out my disguise without consequences. What better way to do it than by trying to fool myself? Besides… I thought it would be funny to put my disguise against yours.”

“So it's merely a joke to you?”

“Only partially.” She shrugged off his hands and bared her teeth; in a smile or a warning, she let him decide. “It was funny, though. Made me wonder how she did not see us through the disguise.”

“They were always blind to those.” He noticed, closing his eyes to focus on his other senses. “I should really meet myself more often. This is so… Chaotic.”

“Yes, I came to the same conclusion. Regarding the Doctor's blindness, that is.” The other part she considered too, given how good it felt to stick her finger into the rip in the fabric of time, but that he didn't have to know.

“Maybe you should go see her. See if she's so blind she won't see you.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged; she considered that too and still didn't decide if she wanted to do just that. Messing with him, or her friends and dear ones was fun but the Doctor herself was… A little unpredictable. It could be fun to some point, sure, but once the Doctor realized who she was dealing with…

However, with evaluation her past self gave her, she could improve her performance, so who knew? She'd think about it.

“So what now?” He asked, his eyelids raising so he could watch as the Master walked to the fridge and opened it to look through its content. Mostly basics; milk, eggs, condiments, yoghurt. Nothing truly interesting, as expected; he only really used this fridge when he had visitors or was too lazy to go deeper into the ship to the proper kitchen and wasn’t in the mood for various snacks hidden in the cabinets.

With a disappointed sigh, she closed the fridge. “Well, I’ll be on my way, I suppose. Since you saw through me, there's no need for me to stay, is there?”

“Well.” He shrugged, in an overly casual way. That immediately made her feel alerted. “You can stay, I suppose? I'm not throwing you out, you know, the plan is for me to stay here for a few more months and maybe you could use help in coming up with ideas to use that face…”

The Master looked straight at him, silent for a long moment; he avoided her glance, pretending to be deeply interested in fixing some documents on the Doctor's shelf.

Oh, no. Coming here was a mistake; and kissing him, although innocent, had an effect she didn't expect nor desired.

In a way, she knew where he was coming from. No matter the face they were always the second most gorgeous person in the Universe so attraction came naturally; it happened before, shortly before he was born when two of their incarnations met; and now that she put on her face and he could look at it the way he'd never dare if the Doctor could see and judge him naturally he wanted it to last longer. It was probably unhealthy, but that wasn't what she cared about, they were never mentally healthy.

No; what she cared about was the way it reminded her of the last time it happened, with both of them killed by the other. They were too insane and short-fused for that idea to end well. Soon, a disagreement would happen. Soon, one would be blinded by anger. And then? Blood would be drawn. By him or by her, or by both of them, she couldn't know; it didn't matter. One of them would die and it was an extremely unwanted outcome. If it was her, it would be so unfair; she had so little time in this body, she barely had time to enjoy it! What about all the other people she could mess with? Yasmin Khan, River Song, the entirety of UNIT… Many, many more.

If he would be the one to die, however, it could be even worse. White the true reasoning behind her waking up with that face would never be within her reach, her best assumption was that her regeneration was influenced by the final scheme of the guy that was currently too flustered by his own offering to meet her eye. Perhaps Yaz didn't strip him down of the Doctor's regeneration energy in full and some of it remained, causing her own energy to use the given imprint. It sounded more plausible than the two of them getting the same face with so little time apart.

If her assumptions were correct, him dying prematurely could mean widely different regeneration, resulting in a completely different face, and that would not only mean  that his carefully crafted persona of O would be gone like a whiff of smoke on the wind – such a waste, really – but it would also mean she never got to exist. As lovely as the paradox would be, created in a such situation – even their Time Lord nature couldn't patch up such tear in time, after all – there was no telling who exactly would he turn into and she couldn't let the Universe snatch away from her all the fun that face brought and would yet bring.

“I think you know my answer.” She said finally; his head twitched slightly to the side in response as he considered.

“Yes. I knew it before I asked.” Then, without really meaning his words much, he added: “I could trap you and keep you here?”

“So what, you can stare at this face like it's a holy icon?” The Master laughed, coldly; his shoulders tensed in response, he didn't like it being directed at him. It was too easy to imagine that it was the Doctor laughing in such way. “You don't want to trap me even more than you wouldn't want to trap her.”

“I probably don't.” He agreed quietly. “I just– heh. I don't think I have to explain myself to you of all people, do I?”

“No.” She dropped her voice too. In the end, he was just a sad boy still hurt by the memory of his friend, now stained forever. However, someone still needed to be an adult and she hated to admit she was the best candidate here.

Their cups were still waiting for them on the table; she picked them up and washed, then hid the crackers where they belonged, then picked up her blue t-shirt. “I'll be going now, Master. It probably wasn't wise of me to come here… But I still enjoyed myself quite a bit.”

“We do have a nasty habit of enjoying things others believe we shouldn't have.” He admitted and she raised a corner of her mouth in a half-smile, taking a tour around the hut to turn on the lamps as they used to be. Now everything looked like she was never there so he wouldn't question the changes later on.

“That's how we lost our only friend.” In any other circumstances, she wouldn't dare to say it; she wouldn't dare to even think about it. Apparently meeting herself was bringing the worst out of her, she needed to cut it short before she got too mushy. It was already getting too weird and she felt as if she was holding onto the last straw of their normality while he was trying to drag her right into the centre of the weirdness, maybe without fully realizing what he was getting them into.

It didn't feel like she needed to say goodbye to her own self from the past; she already did, back on the Earth’s second moon, so she turned to the door with the intention to leave silently. Her hand was already on a handle when she heard him speak: “See you in the mirror.”

She laughed as she left his hut; and as she walked to her own TARDIS, as she left the cozy closeness of the paradox, her steps became more spring and energetic, her mind already spinning into action to come up with her next move. Fooling people was fun so far, yes, and she'll happily continue to do so; after a small break. A small genocide or two, all in the Doctor's name, should help her relax and give her time to improve on her disguise and pick the next target.

The Master didn't feel the familiar dark eyes on her back as she walked away; he probably already forgot their encounter, poor kid. That was the best for him, he wasn't ready for the knowledge of who he would become. Too obsessed, this one was.

While her? Oh, she was obsessed just the right amount; and the ways in which she could follow that obsession had barely begun to unravel in front of her.