Reviews are love. :)
"You know, domesticity really doesn't suit you." The master grabbed the edge of the counter and used it to spin himself on his stool.
"mmm." The doctor focused on the eggs, prodding them across the pan.
"You should stop doing that. It looks like you're poking some giant slug or something."
The doctor glanced up in irritation. "Maybe if you hadn't ruined my best frying pan with the first batch, I'd make you come over here and do it yourself."
The master grinned wickedly. "Maybe that was the point. Maybe the point was to get you to come and ruin my appetite with your butchering of chicken fetuses and prodding of gelatinous masses across your second-best frying pan." He paused for a moment and sent a pointed glance towards the stove. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood for eggs anymore."
The doctor winced. The master wasn't sure if it was over the eggs or whether the reminder of his lost cooking utensil was still fresh. "As much as I adore your gift for... vivid imagery, some of us are trying to make breakfast over here." He scraped the eggs onto a pair of mismatched plates, one blue and rimmed with daisies, the other apparently handpainted by a small child with a pained-looking horse on it. The horse appeared to be grinning. He set the daisy plate down in front of the master and turned to pour two glasses of a magenta juice. The master picked up his fork and poked at the eggs dubiously.
"I'm not sure these are edible doctor" The doctor rolled his eyes.
"Listen to the cannibal talk. The eggs are fine."
The master sniffed. "Maybe I'm trying to reform my ways."
"Yes, and maybe the thirteen moons of Tarbirath leapt out of the sky to learn to tango. Or maybe not."
The master pushed away his plate and folded his arms. "Either way, I'm not eating it."
The doctor sighed. "You're such a child sometimes."
The master looked affronted. "I'm a child? I'm not the one who's wandering around every boring dust-ball in the galaxy going on and on about how fascinating the latest bunch of primeval apes is and complaining about having to do a few dishes."
"You're right. I do travel, and that's because I grew out of universal domination schemes by the time I was six." He picked up his fork and jabbed it viciously into his plate. "And it's not a few dishes. I think the the egg is welded to the pan."
"I think you're a bit jealous of me doctor. Imagining what you could be if you didn't have all those pesky little rules."
"Completely insane? Thanks for the offer, I'll pass."
"But just think of how much more you could see, and do."
"Like you did?"
"'I went chasing wild after the wildest beauty in the world.'"
"At which point you subjugated it to your will."
"At which point I got bored."
The doctor turned away and scowled at his eggs. The master grabbed his plate and headed for the garbage disposal chute to put them out of their misery.
"You know, there are starving children in Africa who would kill for those." The doctor's tone was petulant.
"By the twenty-seventh century, Africa is the richest place on earth. I'm sure they'll survive." The master paused. "Or not. I can't say that I'm terribly concerned either way"
"Has anyone ever mentioned that a little more self-control exercised on the more destructive aspects of your personality might go a long way?"
"Yes, I wake up and look at myself in the mirror and wonder 'how can I make starving orphans in Africa in the twenty-first century more miserable today'."
The doctor shrugged. "Wouldn't put it past you."
The master rolled his eyes. "Bigger fish to fry, Doctor."
The doctor's face tightened. "Like what?"
The master blinked. "Nothing."
"No. Like what?"
"Doctor, at the moment, my highest priority is to get out of this little blue box. My very highest priority. Which means that it is very much in my best interest to not cause trouble."
The doctor's eyes narrowed. "Because I don't want to stay in this stupid little space doing this stupid little dance for eternity. And that's what you've signed up for, you know? You and I, with you as my jail keeper for eternity?" He laughed bitterly. "As much as I love the quality bonding time, I don't think I like you quite that much."
"I can't let you out when you might hurt someone. If you'd just let me in... I could fix the drums."
"I don't think so." The master smiled thinly.
"You have to let me try. And the TARDIS might help too, over time."
"I don't have to do anything." He bit off the last world precisely, angrily.
The doctor's face was a wordless appeal. The master dropped his plate in the sink with a clatter. The noise provided no respite at all.
"It's getting worse, isn't it." The doctor's eyes were pitying. The master threw his fork after his plate with far too much force.
"They're there, all the time." The master resisted the urge to rub his hands over his face. "And it's quiet, and there's nothing, no forward motion to take them away." His face contorted. "There's nothing to do on your stupid fucking box, and as much as I would love spending the rest of my life catering to your stupid little messiah complex, I really don't think that it would help my sanity in the slightest." The doctor watched him with pity. The master swallowed his pride. "And noise and motion and life and things to do drown them out. At least for a little while." He turned away. "Which is why it is imperative, Doctor, that you let me out at some point before we both end up bonkers." There, he thought. If that doesn't get me out, nothing will.
The doctor swallowed once, then nodded. "All right." He looked stricken. The master masked swelling triumph with a facade of irritation. "Where would you like to go?"