"I have something for you," the Doctor says, and holds out something - a small cylinder wrapped in elegant black paper.

The Master hesitates just a fraction of a second before accepting it. "For me, Doctor? And it's not even my birthday."

"Just something to say that I was thinking of you."

The Master slits the paper open, and one elegant eyebrow arches. "Beard conditioner, Doctor?"

"The finest on the planet." The Doctor gives him a wicked grin. "After all, I'd hate to explain to the Brigadier why I'm showing up at UNIT headquarters with a severe case of beard burn."