A/N: I found this sitting on my hard drive when I was doing spring cleaning. It was meant to be a Christmas gift fic for Eleni_C. So... happy belated Easter? Merry Summer? IDK, but here's your fic!

Prompt: Now, for a story request, we'd both like to see a Master/Doctor pairing story (you don't mind slash, do you?) Something with Jack could be interesting as well. As for a prompt? No idea. Anything you have on your mind at the time.

Because I had zero ideas, I went for the prompting goldmine: TFLN. I used the random button and wrote off the first text. I present to you an AU Doctor/Master fic.

This story contains 11/future!Master, who is played by Benedict Cumberbatch in my head canon. (Even though I think that rumor has been confirmed as false? But this is my mental picture until proven otherwise!)

Also, crack. Dear god, crack.

The problem with being the Doctor's companion, Jack knew, was that about a quarter of the time you had to dig the Doctor out of his own messes. Of course, Jack was a very capable companion and was a bit above the average human, so that fraction of time rose to about a third.

The second problem with being a companion was that it was the Doctor. He had a very long history and most things that recurred in their travels either wanted him dead or loved him.

He wasn't sure where the Master fell on that scale, but probably close enough to the middle to make it very, very creepy.

The third problem with being the Doctor's companion was that it got them into ridiculous messes. Messes that included memory loss and explosions and that damned Chameleon circuit that Jack would destroy if it actually wasn't a bit useful.

So now here he was, stuck in a bookshop (A book shop, of all places) babysitting the Doctor until Jack could find and eliminate the problem of the latest Time Lord seeking alien. It would've been an easy job, really, except for the Doctor's other companion.

Jack didn't hate Harold Saxon, exactly. He just wanted to kill him a bit. Jack finally managed to catch up to the Doctor again after his latest regeneration, only to find him nursing an amnesiac Master. The Doctor had babbled some excuse, something about memories and time streams and what seemed to be a mutated form of regeneration and Jack had simply turned the Master and looked him in the eye. He didn't see anything malicious, just bewildered. The Doctor called him Harry, because he was still trying to find a way to get the Master's memories back without overloading his mind. Jack had wondered aloud why they couldn't just erase some of the Master's more evil-inducing memories. The Doctor had given him a furiously wounded look and straightened his bow-tie and Jack hadn't suggested it again.

He really wished he had, because maybe they wouldn't be hiding out in a bookstore with Harold pretending to be the owner while Jack and "John Smith" went about shelving boxes and manning the counter.

Jack was in the back, opening the latest shipment of self-help books when his mobile went off. (Because, unfortunately, they were staying here in 2014 long enough to need them.)

JSmith: Would you consider Harold our boss?

Jack frowned at John's text as he sent his reply.

JHarkness: technically yes

He had John's response back in less than a minute.

JSmith: Then technically I slept with our boss.

Jack closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, counting to ten. It didn't work, so he did it again. And once more for good measure.

He found Harry in the office, typing away at the computer. Harry glanced up, took one look at Jack's face, and paled considerably.

"I got an interesting text from John," Jack began conversationally, crossing his arms. He didn't sit down, opting instead to tower over Harry's death ominously. He took pleasure in the little things.

"It was an accident," Harry blurted out, running a hand over his curls nervously.

"No, stubbing your toe is an accident. Ordering the wrong shipment is an accident. Buggering the Doctor is not an accident!"

"There was alcohol!" Harry protested, gesturing wildly. "And mood music. And really good food and- Jack, I think he was trying to seduce me! But why would the Doctor- or, okay, John, but that's part of the Doctor, right?- do that?"

Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face because he knew very well why the Doctor would do that. And apparently these two couldn't do functional even if they were both temporarily without memories.

"John Smith tried to seduce you," he finally said. "Not the Doctor."

Harry stared blankly for a minute before a hopeful smile began to creep across his face. "You believe me."

"Yeah," John said. "I feel like I'm the parent of two horny teenagers, but yeah."

"Why do your analogies always end in incest?" Harry asked, but he was laughing now.

Jack shook his head and went to track down John, hoping to scare the sense into him.

He found John pinned behind the counter being held up by the very aliens they were hunting, Vermicious Snids, and leapt into the fray to save the day instead.

The next few hours were a flurry of activity and a few small diplomatic disasters, but it wasn't long before the fob watch was opened and the TARDIS was dug out of storage.

The Doctor and Harry hovered awkwardly around the console, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes. One would attempt to start the conversation by clearing their throats, but would lose their courage when the other looked up.

Jack shrugged and went to hunt down one of the TARDIS bathrooms.

He really was getting too old for this.

(But not, as Harry meekly suggested later, too old to be propositioned to for a threesome. Both Jack and the Doctor had looked suitably horrified, and poor Harry had wilted for a week. The Doctor made up for it by being extra nice, and Jack made up for it by carrying one less gun. He might have grabbed an extra knife instead, but who was counting?)