The Doctor lay sprawled in bed feeling far too lazy to get up quite yet. He yawned and stretched his body out, arms and legs extending to their limits while he arched his spine before he relaxed, grinning sleepily. The pillows around him were large and fluffy- mostly because the Master insisted on an extravagant sleeping arrangement and it was all too comfortable for the Doctor to resist.

Yawning once more, the Doctor realized that there was a smell wafting through the TARDIS. He lifted his head up and sniffed. He sniffed once more for good measure before concluding that yes, the TARDIS did smell like cookies. The Doctor blinked for a moment in confusion before throwing of the covers and getting dressed before investigating. It didn't work very well to go about the TARDIS naked, usually resulting in Certain Incidents That Were Not To Be Brought Up.

His search brought him to an empty kitchen. There was a little army of gingerbread men lying on three cookie sheets, each one perfectly cut out. On the table bowls of white frosting mingled with bottles of food coloring and spatulas. The Doctor picked up one of the gingerbread men, feeling rather hungry, before deciding that it would be a horrible crime to eat a gingerbread man without icing,

Of course, after he gave Fred (The gingerbread man looked like a Fred, he didn't know why) a little hat and some curly red hair, he thought it would be a shame for Fred to be alone before he ate him. So he created Wilma and gave her red pumps. Women liked red pumps. Then, he reasoned, it would be awful of him to leave no one to console her after he ate Fred and soon he was surrounded by little named gingerbread men.

"Pray tell, what is that?" the Doctor heard from the doorway. He looked up to the Master leaning against the doorway, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"It's a ferris wheel," the Doctor explained, linking purple gum drops together with toothpicks to make little seats.

"I can see that," the Master replied. "But why?"

"Well you see it's Honoria's birthday, but Jasper and Phoebe didn't have enough money to take her somewhere special, so they thought-"

"You named them?"

"Well, yes," the Doctor admitted sheepishly.

"I didn't bake cookies just for you to name them, Doctor," the Master said as he came into the kitchen to check the trays.

"You bake?" the Doctor asked, surprised.

The Master snorted, pouring himself a glass of milk. "One of us has to. And don't think I don't remember what happened with your banana crumble."

The Doctor silenced a very small "But I like bananas," as the Master reached for a cookie and bit its head off.

"Hey!" the Doctor protested. "That was Lysander. I liked Lysander."

"Doctor, if you're going to start naming food we're going to have a problem," the Master said with a sigh, dipping Lysander in his milk.

"Don't be silly. Why would I name regular food? It doesn't do very well to go about saying, 'Oh, that grape looks like a Horace!' or, 'I'm naming this baked salmon Veronica.'"

"You've got some icing on your fingers, Doctor," the Master said, reaching for his hand. He held it up to his lips and very deliberately licked the sugary topping off, keeping his dark eyes locked on the Doctor. The Doctor grinned and picked up the mixing spoon, licking it off.

"Now I've got some in my mouth," he announced, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Such a tease. I think I'll have to ravish you now," the Master decided, tugging on the Doctor's tie to bring him closer. "However else shall you learn?"

Later, the Doctor suggested that maybe sex was not the way to teach a tease and the Master threw a pillow at his head.