Title: Utopia

Pairing: TenthDoctor/SixthMaster

Summary: What if the Master hadn't died?

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, the Master or any other characters, situations or objects pertaining to the series. I'm not sure who does, but best wishes to them! I do, however, own the names of the Doctor and Master in this fic (wait and see!)

Warning: Slash (non-graphic). Cuteness.

Notes: This is set during the last episode in Series Three and written from the Doctor's point of view. DMDMDM are scene breaks and italics are flashbacks. When I saw the episode I couldn't rest until I'd written a DoctorMaster slash because the chemistry between the Doctor and the Master was so obvious! I mean, tell me I'm not the only one who saw that... Anyway, enjoy!

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It's over. Wow. Odd to think that after all this, after a year, the Toclafane are gone. Business as usual, though. Show must go on. That's why I'm saying hello to Martha's dad (nice bloke. Eyes just like her), until I see the Master running for the door. When it opens, Jack is standing inside, reaching out to catch him with a cheeky grin and the words "Whoa, big fella, you don't want to miss the party!" Mentally, I shake my head. Far too much American TV around in this century; can't be a good influence at all.

I stare at the pair of them, Jack beaten black and blue but half-smiling as he handcuffs the Master, who looks so... small and pale, so vulnerable in contrast. This regeneration doesn't really suit him. I swallow hard, remembering one that did, when he had long dark hair and sapphire eyes and soft lips that fit perfectly with mine.

Then I snap back to the present, realising that the good Captain has just asked me what we should do with the Master. It doesn't surprise me, really, that the Jones family want to kill him – they wouldn't be the first ones – but what does surprise me is the fear in the Time Lord's eyes as he glances up at me. I always could read him like a book, and when Francine Jones picks that gun up and aims it at him his lips are trembling, but he hisses, "Go on! Do it!" As he says it Jack's almost nodding and the security men are half smiling and it hits me suddenly that I am the only person in the room, the only person in the entire universe, who doesn't want the Master to die; himself included.

I walk down to Francine, slowly and carefully and I speak to her quietly so she drops the gun. The flash of reluctant relief cross his face makes me want to hold him tight and keep him safe in a way I haven't felt for anyone in many years.

DMDMDM

"What happens to me?" the Master asks moments later, pronouncing the words with just a little too much care; he's afraid. I tell him that he's my responsibility, the only other Time Lord left, and Jack snaps that I can't trust him. Odd that those words still sting when I so clearly know they're true. I answer that I know, that the only safe place for the Master is with the Tardis. I mean he'll only be safe with me and he knows it, that's why he's half-smiling when he asks if I'm just going to keep him. I nod, "If that's what I have to do."

Suddenly the angry look in his eyes is tired, frustrated, saddened, and I understand and feel an answering wave of exhaustion sweep over me. I feel too old for this, too lonely, too heartbroken; simply too tired.

Jack's looking at me expectantly so I turn to him, to Martha, and tell them it's time to change and maybe I've been wandering a bit too long – and maybe I have. Just to try and take away the look of melancholy on the Master's face, I add, "Now I've got someone to care for." He knows what I mean by that and sure enough the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

DMDMDM

And then a shot rings out, and my world stops. I take in the Master's gasp, see him stumble backwards, and turn around to see Lucy holding that gun in clenched fingers with chipped red nails.

Then my eyes are drawn back to him – I never could look away – and I somehow snap out of my trance when I see him sway backwards on his feet, running to him, and my throat is dry and my heartbeats thunder in my ears as I kneel beside him and feel him relax into my embrace, even as Jack pulls the gun from Lucy's unresisting grip. "There you go. I've got you," I tell him quietly, echoing dormant promises, "I've got you."

I stroke my thumb across his shoulder blade, my eyes blurring with shocked tears as I realise somewhere in the back of my mind that he still fits perfectly into my arms. He tries to smile, masking a gasp of pain, choking out "Always the women!" It's been so long since I saw him smile at me, really smile, and somehow we are suddenly the only people in the world.

"I didn't see her." I mutter, swallowing hard. He knows it's an apology and his heartbeats quicken against mine as he looks up at me and smiles bitterly. "I'm dying in your arms. Happy now?" He asks, his breathing becoming laboured, and I let my eyes slip shut because he knows exactly what memory that'll invoke.

I pull him a tiny bit closer as time stops for both of us – my own little party piece – because I want him to remember too. It's as though I'm giving the memory to him and he knows it, closing his eyes as I begin.

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"I'm not letting you leave." I snapped, furious, blonde hair slipping over chocolate eyes as I glared at you.

"It's a mission." You responded sharply, blue eyes flashing brightly in anger and contrasting dramatically with ruby lips, "You don't just turn the Council down, and besides, it's routine. City patrols are hardly going to be dangerous." Your long, dark hair swayed gently as you swung your head in annoyance, an absurdly effeminate gesture in one with such a slight frame. I glared at you, annoyed at your characteristic impudence, hissing, "I don't care, you aren't going."

Your eyes widened in fury and you drew yourself up to your full height, looking taller than usual dressed in the full Galifree military uniform, the desert-gold colour matching the walls of our apartment. "You have no right to tell me what I can do and what I can't, you aren't my mother!"

Of course I had a comeback ready for that one, moving closer to you in my faded trousers and shirt as I said, "You have no right to try and hurt me like you do every time you think something is 'for the best', because I'm your friend and your lover and I'll be damned if I'm letting you put yourself in danger because this is a war, in case you didn't notice!" By the end my voice had risen to a yell, and yours easily matched it as you shouted, "Then consider yourself damned because I don't have a choice!"

I grunted in frustration, shoving you up against the wall and feeling your body supple and strong against mine as I pinned your wrists above your head, kissing you hard enough to bruise your pretty lips, marking you as mine. After a moment you whimpered quietly and pulled away, your body going limp as you relaxed, dropping your head into the crook of my shoulder so I could feel your shallow breath and your long lashes planting butterfly kisses against my skin.

"Don't want you to leave. Scared of losing you." I whispered shortly, scared just to say the words, pulling you even closer to me and smiling as you went without resisting. "I know." You mumbled hazily, snuggling close to me. "But I have to go. You know that." I nodded, hating it, and then kissed you goodbye, handing you your backpack.

"Take care." I whispered, voice choked the way only you could ever prompt, kissing you one last time on the top of the head as you squeezed my hand tight and turned to the door. "Nenta? I love you." You called, using your name for me. "Hanoi?" I answered, using mine for you, grinning at the embarrassed tone in you voice, "Love you too, you sentimental old fool."

DMDMDM

"Ciao?" I asked, reaching away from the meal I'd been cooking to answer the... Well... Name doesn't translate, as you know, but the closest Earth equivalent is a telephone. You were late, and I was starting to worry. "Ciao, Nenta." You answered, your voice wavering in a way that set alarm bells ringing at once. "What's wrong?" I said, forcing my voice to remain calm as I picked up the North Bay seaweed I'd been cooking for dinner before it burned, moving to drain it in the sink, until your next words sunk in and I dropped it with a resounding crash.

"I'm in hospital. The patrol got ambushed. They said... They said that if there was anyone I wanted to say goodbye to..." You broke off, as if I hadn't known from the first word that you were trying not to cry, and gasped a shaky breath. "I need you." You whispered, the words a pitiful half-sob I could tell you couldn't help.

"Alright, you hang on right where you are, don't let them move you, and I'll be there in 5 minutes." I ordered. "Which hospital are you in? Which ward?" You reeled off the information listlessly then paused. "It hurts so much, Nenta." You whimpered, and I could hear you trying to suppress the sound. "The doctors say I'm dying."

I got the oddest sensation that my world had stopped, I just hadn't noticed yet. "Damn it, Hanoi, don't you die on me. If you ever die then it'll be in my arms and I'll be right behind you, so you had just better hang on." I snarled, tears welling in my own eyes as you laughed tearfully and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too." I answered, putting the phone down and running out the door, slamming it behind me, sprinting to the hospital and leaving the ruined dinner lying in a puddle of water on the floor.

DMDMDM

I think, looking back, that I probably got to see you in record time (I'm not saying the receptionist will ever be the same, but that's not the point).

A nurse led me to your room through the dark, crowded hospital corridors, past tiny room after tiny room; past one injured Time Lord after another, an inevitable product of the Time War. He left me outside, telling me that I could go in and the doctors would be along shortly and a fair few other things that I didn't bother listening to.

I cautiously opened the door; you were lying in the only bed in the tiny room, the walls of purple complementing the pure white sheets. Your skin was ethereally pale as well, with your eyes closed and the only thing breaking the whiteness your dark hair and red lips and the angry purple bruises and blood-red scars that covered all your skin I could see.

"Nenta?" You whispered, so softly that I almost missed it, your eyes fluttering open as I ran towards you and held you tight. "Oh, Hanoi..." You buried your face in my neck again, running bruised fingers through my hair as you started to sob, mumbling nonsense that I couldn't understand and that broke my heart anyway. "It hurts." You whispered, sounding surprised, and I almost laughed through the tears coursing down my own cheeks. "I know, darling. I know. I've got you. It's OK. I've got you."

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A hundred worlds and ten lifetimes later, here he is in my arms again. I pull him closer as he opens his eyes and I realise he's trembling, mouthing something I can't make out. "You're not dying;" I snap, "Don't be stupid, it's just a bullet, just regenerate." He shakes his head, "No." I don't believe he means it.

"It's just a bullet, come on." I urge, waiting, praying that the Master will listen to me for once in his life.

"I guess you don't know me that well. I refuse." He mutters blearily, his eyes slipping out of focus, and that's when I realise that I was wrong; he won't kill himself, but he will let himself die to prove a point to me and win our little game. He's wrong as well, though; I know him better than anyone. "Regenerate, please, just regenerate, come on." I grunt, shaking him, trying to make him see sense, but then he sneers, "And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?"

The words are slow, deliberate, calculated. He means to hurt me so I'll let him go, but I know him better than that at least, and I make one last try to get through to him, whispering, "You've got to, come on, it can't end like this. You and me, all the things we've done!"

I see the flash of pain cross the Master's face and loosen my hold on him, rocking his body gently back and forth, trying instinctively to cause him as little pain as possible. He's starting to cry now, and tears are trickling down my own cheeks all over again and I suddenly realise that even if he wanted to regenerate he couldn't now – it's too late. Or maybe it isn't.

DMDMDM

"Hanoi, please?" I whisper, moving one hand up to stroke my fingers through his cropped hair, watching his eyes slip shut again. "Let me help you."

He whimpers quietly, his body suddenly stiffening, and mouths the same word as earlier. It hits me suddenly that I was wrong. He didn't mouth "Dying"; he mouthed "Nenta."

DMDMDM

I take that as all the signal I need and reach shaking fingers down to unbutton the Master's shirt, pulling the material sharply away as he begins to tremble more and more and placing him back on the ground, his head in my lap, tracing my fingers over the wound as he winces sharply and beginning to chant the words.

His eyes snap open as he realises what I'm going to do and a single pearly tear falls to the floor. I reach the point in the incantation – a torrent of Galifreean words rote-learned long ago tumbling in frenzy from my tongue – when he needs to respond. He mutters the link – his name, mine, his intent – and I finish the spell, settling on the easiest way to seal it and leaning down to gently kiss his lips. They are cracked and dry and I can feel his pulse throbbing through them as I force my body to relax, watching the blue and yellow sparks flowing from my body to his as he is shrouded in regeneration.

My regeneration, passed on to him - it's a gift of sorts, but a difficult spell; bit of a last resort. I steady myself with one hand and reach out to take his in the other, feeling the flesh mould beneath my fingertips as he clutches me tightly. Then suddenly, the sparks recede, and I pull back and gasp.

The Master's face has changed and he looks younger, maybe around twenty-five in Earth years. He has golden hair that falls around his face in messy waves and tanned skin covering a tall, lithe frame. His beautiful, defined features are peaceful, with a nose that's maybe a little too prominent, and although he's dressed in the same clothes when I tentatively press against the skin of his lower stomach I find the bullet wound gone. At the touch the man's eyes flutter open to reveal vivid emerald green eyes looking at me questioningly before recognition sets in. Quivering lips open and close but he remains silent, staring at me helplessly.

"You alright?" I ask quietly, reaching out a hand to help this new regeneration up, and he nods.

"You?" His voice is husky and light and I grin easily. "'Course."

Then I remember with a shock that Jack, Lucy and the Jones family will be watching, and turn to face them. Jack is grinning, and he raises his eyebrows at me and glances down. I follow his gaze and realise that Hanoi is still clutching my hand tight. I also realise that I have no desire to let go, even as I take in Lucy's blank horror and the Jones' family's uncomprehending confusion.

DMDMDM

"Righto!" I say abruptly, cheerily changing the subject. "Now that that's over and done with... Where would anyone like to go?"

Jack is the one to react first, and steps towards me. "Torchwood, I think." He nods, his choice not surprising me in the least. I reach out my free hand to touch his shoulder and for a moment all else recedes and it is just the Captain and me. I sense the new Master watching from a respectful distance.

"Are you sure, Jack?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I am. I've had a lot of time to think this past year," He says, and I feel a rush of approval that he says that without any bitterness, "And I kept thinking of my team. It's sort of... Home now, y'know?"

I grin, sincerely happy for him. "Good. If you ever need somewhere to go, if you need help, if you ever want to find me," I instruct, indicating the perception filter around his neck, "You call me with that and I'll be right there."

He smiles, nods, and I let go of Hanoi for a moment to give him a warm hug. "Thanks, Doctor," he mutters, and then grins cheekily. "I'm happy for the both of you." He says as I reach without thinking about it to take the Time Lord's hand, and with that Captain Jack steps back and into time again.

Before too long the others are sorted out, normality restored (or close to), and we depart in the TARDIS for Martha's home. Her family say their 'thank you's and 'goodbye's and leave, leaving me alone with my very best enemy, waiting for Martha to return.

DMDMDM

It's odd, but somehow I can no longer really consider this man the Master – he is Hanoi now. He leans against the TARDIS' circuit board awkwardly, blonde hair shielding his eyes as he twists a strand between nimble fingers. He looks... vulnerable, just like the man I used to know, and I suddenly desperately want to hug him. Clearing my throat tentatively, I smile when he looks up. "Hanoi... How are you?"

The man smiles uncertainly. "I'm alright. I'm sort of confused -bit tired- but I feel excellent after the regeneration. So everything's great. Yourself?"

I laugh. "Come here?"

He obeys, stepping forwards into my arms and standing so close that I can feel his heartbeats thundering against my chest. I rock him back and forth, holding him tight, marvelling at how much I'd missed this, how much better he always makes me feel, how close I came to losing him. "How'd we come to this, Nenta?" Hanoi whispers.

"What, you don't remember? Toclafane, Paradox Machine, you went a bit nuts, kept me in a cage..."

He pokes me. "Not that. I meant..." He sighs. "How did we ever let this go?"

DMDMDM

"Em... excuse me, am I interrupting something?" Martha says uncomfortably, appearing in the doorway.

"Nothing at all!" I beam, stepping away from Hanoi but taking hold of his hand.

"Well," she begins, frowning, "Doctor, I don't think I can come with you." I'm not surprised, though I pretend to be. "It's just that, my family... I can't leave them. And someday, maybe, yeah, but now... I don't think I can go."

I nod slowly. "If that's how you feel, Martha. But if you ever need me, if you ever want to come back, you just let me know. We're a phone call away." She nods, looking like she's about to say something else, then smiles sadly. "I'll see you soon, Doctor. Thank you."

I smile, hugging her briefly. "Thank you, Martha Jones. And cheer up - you saved the world!"

She grins, nodding, moving to the door. "Goodbye." She says softly, regretfully, and leaves.

DMDMDM

"Well..." I say after a pause, moving to the TARDIS controls, "Where to now? How about..."

"Doctor!" Hanoi interrupts sharply, "Nenta. I'm not one of your pretty little human companions; I'm not like Martha or even Jack. I've done terrible things to you, and we may have been close once, but we've changed." He speaks earnestly, twisting his tie between long fingers. "I'm not easy to get on with, or quiet, or kind, and I'm not a good person like you are. I'm going to be bloody difficult to help because I don't want you to fix me, and I don't want you to be with me out of pity."

Hanoi pauses for a moment, looking half-horrified that he's said all this, and then continues. "I still care about you, and I'm grateful to you, and I'm sorry, but if you want to be with me we have a hell of a lot of bridges to rebuild. I'm just warning you that this is your best chance to get rid of me – it's your choice." He looks somehow furious and like he's about to cry, both at the same time.

I nod seriously. "Hanoi, I know we've changed, but I'm willing to make this work if you are. I don't want you to change you; I fell in love with you just the way you are, and I still love you."

The Time Lord closes emerald eyes for a moment, then step towards me and hugs me tight. "I hear the star showers are beautiful at this time of year." He sighs contentedly, the relief tangible in his voice, "How about there?"

DMDMDM

I grin, nodding, and turn away to enter the co-ordinates. The TARDIS lifts off smoothly and flies away, leaving the Earth shrinking into the distance. I watch as it fades away into every-lightening shades of blue and tan and green, thinking how close we came to losing it.

When I turn, Hanoi is standing at the portal on the other side of the room, staring pensively out at the stars dashed across the sky like the trail of some higher being's paintbrush, lost in thought. I grin and creep up behind him, wrapping my arms suddenly around his waist so he jumps. The Time Lord laughs, nuzzling his head back against my chest in a gesture that's strange and disconcerting and oddly endearing all at once.

"What're you thinking about?" I question, pulling him closer. I feel like I can't be close enough to him, like I can't be with him or speak to him enough, which is probably a good sign.

He laughs. "You. Only bad things, I assure you." I join in the laughter, kissing the top of his head and watching the stars twinkle in the quiet dark.

It hits me suddenly, as Hanoi gives a contented little sigh and smiles the first true smile I've seen from him in centuries, that it doesn't really matter what happens now. We are here and now and together, and I have found the only thing that ever really made me complete.

With a grin, I kiss him until his face flushes and emerald eyes darken to vivid, mossy green, and we stand intertwined and watch the sun rise over the planet Earth.

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Thanks for reading! I might continue this, tell their story, or I might leave it a oneshot. What does everyone think?

Review?