Written for medie's Because We're Awesome Drabble-a-Thon over on LJ a couple years ago in response to the prompt: Doctor Who; girl!Doctor/girl!Master; silk
They'd succeeded in doing nothing more than killing each other. Well, not quite true since The Doctor also succeeded in stopping The Master from enslaving Earth (he would never learn, The Doctor decided after getting over the shock of realizing that no the last time the Master had died wasn't actually the last time no matter how final it had seemed), but the end result was regeneration. Same time, same place.
"You're ginger," The Doctor said accusingly, staring at The Master's new hair, gorgeous and silky flowing down to her waist.
"And you're not," The Master crowed, "Now, if you'll excuse me I have a world that needs me to take over." Turning around she flipped her hair, "Oh I've forgotten how much I like that, you don't get to make such obvious signs of dismissal when you're a guy." She paused and glanced back at The Doctor, giving her a once-over. "Or if you have short curly hair."
The Doctor's hands immediately went to her hair when the last bit registered. "Wait are you saying-"
"That you're not a guy? Yup. You know I'm really pretty despite these unfortunate clothes." The Master had found a mirror and was staring at herself, and The Doctor couldn't help but stare at her, almost forgetting about his own new body. Almost.
"Oh don't tell me you've never been a girl before. And really, you love listening to the sound of your voice, no matter what version of you it is, you didn't pick up on the fact it was higher than a guy's?"
"I think you're confusing yourself with me and of course I haven't, you mean you have?"
The Master shook her head mock sadly, "Oh you've been missing out. 900 years as a guy? How boring." Her hands were deftly moving through her silky red hair, plaiting it and all The Doctor could think about was going over and touching it. And one other thing.
"Hah well at least my name is gender neutral, who's going to call a girl Master?"
Wrong thing to say. It was impressive how quickly The Master whirled around and crossed the room, especially in the too large clothes and shoes of her last form, and even more impressive the strength she used to hold The Doctor to the wall.
"Say my name," she demanded, voice low and eyes flashing.
The Doctor froze, her brain sharp as ever working through the situation, staring into her bright blue eyes, so focused and determined, thought about the quick change from playful and condescending to angry and serious, and she got it.
"Say. It."
"Master," The Doctor said breathlessly, before closing the short distance between them and kissing her, grabbing her half braided hair, and oh it felt as silky as it looked, and giving everything into the kiss, the fierceness of it mimicking their relationship throughout time and space.
"You're The Master," she whispered after the kiss was broken.
"Too right," she said brightly, practically bouncing now. "Now we should go and rest before we collapse, regeneration's are tricky like that."
"What, not going to try and steal my TARDIS and take over the world?" The Doctor asked even as she started moving towards one of the bedrooms.
"Plenty of time for that later," The Master said, somehow managing to flop gracefully onto the bed. "Ooo silk, didn't know you had such taste."
"I still can't believe you get to be ginger," The Doctor muttered curling up next to her and threading her hands again through her hair. She knew when she woke up there would be trying to stop The Master from stealing her TARDIS and convincing people she was still The Doctor with the added difficulty of a gender change and any number of other problems across time to deal with, but for now it was enough to just sleep surrounded by silk and curled up next to the one person who understood.