Disclaimer: Don't own Doctor Who. This, my friends, is a universal truth.
It was strange. They were so vulnerable, and yet they continued to survive. Even so many years in the future and the past, they survived.
Humans. The gift that just kept on giving.
The Master snorted. He supposed at times he could see a glimmer of why Theta loved them.
Others . . . not so much.
He sipped his coffee, watching people pass by. And then he saw a young, pretty black woman hand a bewildered older woman some flowers and tell her that she just wanted to say that she didn't blame her. Then the girl walked away, and as she did so, she smiled, and it was lovely, like compassion and forgiveness. The older woman looked down at the flowers, and though she was thoroughly bemused, she, too, smiled, and laughed. And that, also, was beautiful.
This was one of those moments that he caught that glimmer.
Not that that would stop him from taunting Theta about it. Nothing in this universe or the next could stop him from taunting Theta.
His mood lifted, the Master smirked and walked away.
