...Oh, heeey guys. So, I've been kinda, um, dead lately. I blame college, and all the studying that entails. But I now I have one semester officially done and I do not have to go back until the 17th. So, since my schedule is wide open and I've learned to manage time and all that, I will return to writing. Thanks to everyone who has sent me little pms and reviews and such, reminding me that, oh yeah, I have fics I can work on and write.

Because it's Christmas, and I've been gone for a while, and I am so bored because while being home is nice being on dial up in the middle of nowhere is not, I am once more starting a Christmas Gift offer. You can PM me or leave a request in the reviews, but ask for a fic and ye shall receive. Just give me a pairing (if any) and a prompt and I will churn out a shiny little fic just for you. (If you want another fandom, check with me, it all depends on how comfortable I am with it)

Happy Holidays!

The Master gasped, surprised to find air filling his lungs. He was surprised to have lungs, really, because one didn't tend to have them when they were dead. Which is what he most definitely was. Or had been. As it were.

Because the last thing he remembered was advancing on Rassilon as he drained his own life force out of his body. And wasn't that the most surprising thing of all, because the Master didn't have a back up plan. He never went around purposely dying unless he had a back-up plan to bring him back. He certainly hadn't planned this.

He stared up at the night sky, enjoying the sensation of air brushing across his skin. Because he was naked. Time Lords might come back to life but clothes do not. He raised up a hand and inspected it in the starlight. Long, thing fingers, pale skin. Deceptively weak, perhaps not quite as strong as his old body but much quicker, and that more than made up the difference. All of him was long, he discovered as he sat up and inspected the rest of him. Long pale legs, long pale chest- he was beginning to discover a theme here, one where he resembled a 21st-century pop culture vampire. he reached up to feel his face- a decent chin, that's good. Hints of stubble, which was useful in case he decided to go after a beard again. Cheekbones- Rassilon, his new cheekbones! And there, at the top of his head. Curly hair that, if he straightened out and pulled it to the edge of his vision-

"Ginger," he muttered in disbelief. "I'm ginger. I saved the world and the Doctor, and by extent the universe, and I'm rewarded by becoming a bloody ginger!"

"Hey!" And then the Master was swatted on the back of the head. He twisted around to glare at whoever dared to touch him, only to find a skinny little human, with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. A ginger skinny little human. "Where'd you come from?"

"Where am I?" the Master asked, standing up. Her gaze dipped down before snapping back up, an amused smile on her lips.

"You're at my house," she replied. "Normally I'm used to men falling out of the sky, but you're a bit naked and I had to send daughter inside. She won't stay in there long, so do I send you on your way or try to squeeze you into my husband's clothes?"

"Where is your house?" the Master snapped irritably.

"Earth," she replied easily. "2017."

"That came out rather easily," he said, before he studied her closely. Too early for the Time Agency to be starting up, so casual mention of time travel must mean- "You're one of the Doctor's girls."

"Amy Williams," she said with a small wave. "Who're you then?"

He drew himself up. "My name is the Master."

"You can't look that authoritative naked," Amy told him, hiding a laugh.

"You just let me get started," he promised as a familiar grinding and wheezing sound filled the air. They turned in unison as the Doctor's TARDIS materialized, tall and blue and smug. The door opened and the Doctor stepped out.

"For Rassilon's sake, you're twelve!" the Master exclaimed as the Doctor paused to adjust his bowtie.

"And you're ginger. That's not fair, I've been trying to be ginger three times now. Is it three times? Blimey, I've been running through regenerations a bit quick," the Doctor said before turning his attention away from his rambling and onto the Master. "Sorry I'm late. River thought-"

"River thought she'd get him some clothes," a woman said as she emerged from the TARDIS, handing the Master a bundle. When their fingers brushed she gave him a cheeky wink, and he was fairly certain she actually knew who he was.

"I rather like these," the Master said, pulling a black button down shirt from the pile.

"I knew you would," River said, turning to smirk at the Doctor. "One of us has to pay attention."

"Yes, well-" the Doctor nervously adjusted his bowtie, and the Master realized something.

"I'm taller than you!" he exclaimed, almost clapping his hands in excitement. "I haven't been taller than you since the Academy!"

The Doctor looked up at him, yes, up, and seemed vaguely disappointed. "Oh, yes you are. You are very... tall, aren't you? First the Daleks get shorter, and now you're getting taller. Am I the only one who stays the same?"

"As fun as this all is," Amy interrupted, finally tired of having time travelers in her yard. "Some of us have to be domestic in the morning. Unless one of you offers an adventure while the other baby-sits, get off my lawn."

"Sorry, dear," River said, before ushering the Doctor and the Master into the TARDIS. This seemed bizarrely familiar, and the Master had the feeling she had met him before. Time travel was wonderful for mucking up history and hiding from the Doctor, but it was horrible at keeping your timeline straight.

"First," River said as she closed the door behind them before she strode to the console and began tapping away at the controls, "The Master is going to get dressed. Then, you two are going to make tea, have a nice, long, explosive discussion over what happened your last regenerations, and then we are going to Space Disneyworld. Something's hunting tourists."

The Doctor muttered something about hating Space Disneyworld and sulked out of the console room.

"You've got him whipped," the Master commented, before glancing at her. "Did you actually marry him, or-?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, sweetie?" River asked with a wink before she kissed him on the cheek. He stared at her, a bit baffled, until she laughed and sent him after the Doctor.

He really needed to learn to stay dead, because life was so bizarre.

In case anyone was wondering, this was inspired by the rumor that Benedict Cumberbatch would play the next Master. As you might be able to tell, I support this idea.