After their tea, they head two years into the future and they try the same animal shelters and pet shops as before at the Doctor's insistence.
The Master grumbles but doesn't argue, much.
"Right," he says, hopping out of the TARDIS and then spinning around to face the Doctor, "let us get our very own felis domesticus and then let's leave, quickly." He knows if they stay any longer the Doctor is going to get caught up in some ridiculous plot to overthrow humanity because some aliens from the Saliduk nebula need horse chestnuts to power their landing crafts, or something equally ludicrous. He, of course will be roped in by association. He sighs, he hates association.
The Doctor bounces alongside him, "felis domesticus isn't a valid scientific name you know?"
"You're not a valid scientific name," the Master grumbles. His reasonably good mood is deteriorating rapidly.
"Well, actually, I sort of...am a valid scientific name" he looks vaguely sheepish about it, a look that may fool the humans but the Master isn't fooled. He just glares at him and walks on faster. A bell tinkles cheerfully when the Master opens the door; it does nothing to help his mood as it reminds him of the drums.
The Doctor continues to bounce along behind, looking at the dogs but not going too near them. Neither of them is particularly fond of dogs.
They alternatively point out cats as they walk along, in turn suggesting and dismissing them.
The woman at the third pet shop recognises them and frowns at them like they're odd when the Doctor tells her that they still haven't found a suitable cat.
The Master stands back, wondering if he should strangle the Doctor for dragging him into this smelly, squeaky, noisy, annoying place. He closes his eyes and thinks of tea and explosions.
It always calms him.
It's also the reason he wasn't paying attention and jumps when the Doctor thrusts a black and white cat in his face.
The Master eyes the cat critically, clearly it's more than an ordinary than an ordinary cat, seems to be slightly psychic. The Doctor doesn't seem to notice, thought he would need to be hit by the psychic equivalent of a London bus for him to notice. Still many animals are mildly psychic, it's nothing unusual.
They both finally agree on this cat because a) the Doctor finds it cute and b) the Master finds that it doesn't clash with his suit.
*****
Unfortunately both their mighty intellects working together for two days failed to come up with a suitable name for the cat. In his desperation that Doctor even consulted Wikipedia on cat names. Apparently the most popular cat names are: Max, Tigger, Smokey, Tiger, Chloe, Shadow, Lucy, Angel, Oliver, and Simba. No, no, no, no, no, no, definitely not-the Doctor's never letting a Lucy come between them again, no, no and maybe.
The Master doesn't like the name Simba, so they're back to square one again.
The Doctor decides that they needs some outside help on this one and for once the Master agrees with him.
To Cardiff then.
It is a slow day at Torchwood and Martha and Jack are going through lists of medical supplies, seeing what they were low on and what needed stocking up. Jack had given the rest of the team a day off, so it's just them in the Hub.
The distinctive sound of the TARDIS dematerialising filled the air and seconds later the blue police box became visible.
Jack arched a brow at Martha, "Wonder what's up this time?"
Martha grinned back at him, "End of the world, what else?"
The TARDIS door opened and the Doctor popped his head out.
"Jack! Oh and Martha! Brilliant! We need your help" and he motions for them to follow him and disappears back into the TARDIS. They can hear him talking to someone but can't make out what he's saying.
"We?" Martha mouths at Jack but Jack just shrugs and shakes his head and walks towards the TARDIS, Martha following. When they enter the TARDIS they're confronted with the Master lounging in the jump seat, slowly petting the black and white cat in his arms. The Doctor is leaning against the console so he has his back to them and can't see the looks of horror, disbelief and fear on their faces. The Master can see it quite clearly though.
"I know it's bred to be eaten and wants to be eaten but I still don't think-
The Doctor is saying, oblivious to what's going on behind him.
"Doctor?" Martha asks shakily.
The Doctor turns to face her and grins, "Yes?"
"What's? What's he... doing here?" Her previous confidence in the face of the Master has all but disappeared. Jack is silent beside her, but Martha can see his knuckles turning white out of the corner of her eye.
The Doctor looks momentarily confused, "he lives here, Martha."
The Doctor of course never realised how inappropriate it is to bring the Master with him. Aside from the fact that you shouldn't bring the madman that had tortured you, your friends, their family and practically their entire species around for a visit, especially one in aid of cat naming, the Doctor had forgotten a few things:
It may have slipped his mind to mention that the Master had not, in fact died.
In such circumstances and springing the news on them in such a way, it might have been better to at least give the impression that the Master was in fact a prisoner and not free to wander about the TARDIS at will.
Discussing plans for a date (even though they didn't know that's what it was yet) in front of two former companions-that had long being carrying a torch for him- with the aforementioned madman was in bad taste.
Fortunately for the Master being considerate was not one of the Doctor's strong points. It was one of the Master's favourite things about him. It often provides endless amusement.
"Right!" the Doctor claps his hands together and then pauses perhaps realising how awkward this is, the Master hopes not-half the fun is in the Doctor being oblivious. Fortunately if he does realise he conveniently ignores it and soldiers on.
"What were we here for again?"
"Ugh...you said you needed help" Jack's found his voice again.
"Right! Right! Yes, we're trying to name the cat, any ideas?"
"The cat?" Jack asks, shell shocked.
"Yes! Isn't he cute?" and he takes the cat gently from the Master and holds it up to them. The cat purrs at them and the Doctor rubs his knuckles under its chin, then gives it back to the Master, who's still grinning. He decides to keep quiet; it's much more amusing to watch this spectacle.
"You have a cat?" Jack asks in the same stunned tone.
"Yeah, just got it two days ago. Blimey must have gone through thousands to get the right one."
"1, 765" the Master informs them serenely.
"That's a lot of cats," Martha says faintly.
The Master smiles pleasantly at her and nods in agreement. As if their casual acquaintances rather than megalomaniac and the person who helped bring down his empire.
"Doctor- Jack begins
"No, don't be silly Jack, can't name the cat after me, it'd just be confusing" he turns to the Master, "wouldn't it?"
The Master hums his agreement, grin getting wider by the second.
"No, Doctor, I mean what the hell is that manic doing here?! How the hell did he survive? Why isn't he locked up? Why haven't you locked him up instead of picking names for a damn cat?!"
The Doctor looks a little surprised.
The Master tuts, "Now I know we've had our differences but would you really let that come between us to deprive this adorable puss of a name? Live and let live as the song says."
The Doctor glances back, "Actually I think it's live and let die."
The Master resumes petting the cat, "Hmm, yes for once I think you're right. Been such a long time since we've been to the sixties, we should go visit."
"Well we've got dinner reservations for tonight, tomorrow maybe?"
"Umm...Doctor, can we talk to you outside for a minute?"
The Doctor glances at the Master, who rolls his eyes, "I don't care."
"Okay, Allons-y, then" and he trots out after Martha and Jack.
He follows them down through the hub until they're far enough away from the TARDIS that the Master can't hear them.
Martha whirls to face him, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, in tip top health, me"
Martha shakes her head, "why didn't you tell us that he was still alive and that apparently you're married to him!" the last bit comes out a little shrill but Martha doesn't care.
The Doctor scratches the back of his neck, "Married no, no, not married. Don't think he'd agree to that again, not after the last two times."
Seeing that this line of questioning is a dead end and the fact that his brain may just melt if he thinks about it, Jack decides to change subject.
"So a cat, huh?"
"Yes, it's a tuxedo cat!" the Doctor grins happily, Jack hates to admit it but he's never seen the Doctor this happy. Damn...
"Not a dog then? Always thought of you as a puppy person." As if that might suddenly bring the Doctor to his (apparently limited) senses.
The Doctor wrinkles his nose, "Naw, Time Lord, not big on dogs."
Jack quirks an eyebrow, "what are they wrong too?"
"Naw, nothing like that, just evolution really."
Martha tears her eyes away from the TARDIS door, "Time Lords evolved to hate dogs?"
"Well sort of, you see we evolved from cats, so the not liking dogs thing is really unavoidable" and he shrugs and smiles in a way that Martha used to find reassuring.
"So," she starts slowly, "Time Lords are giant felines?"
"Well that's a bit of an over simplification but essentially yes. I mean physically you wouldn't really notice, got extra lumbar and thoracic vertebrae, so we're more flexible and our senses are better than humans."
"Cats, that explains so much about you two," Martha murmurs and wanders back towards her medical supplies.
He claps his hands together again, a habit he seems to have picked up from the Master and looks at Jack, "So any ideas for names?"
The Doctor trudges back to the TARDIS a few minutes later after saying his goodbyes. Martha had refused to discuss the topic of the cat with him and Jack said that naming should be done by the owners and then that he was very busy. The Doctor had offered to help but Jack just replied he was busy with paperwork and didn't need any help.
The Master looks up expectantly when he comes back in, "well?"
The Doctor shakes his head, "nope, no ideas."
The Master huffs out an annoyed breath, "told you humans were useless."
The Doctor runs his hand through his hair; he feels he must put at least a token protest even though privately he's wondering if the Master's right; they couldn't even suggest one name.
"Just because cat naming isn't one of their strong points doesn't mean they're useless, they have many good points..."
The Master rolls his eyes and snorts, "if the cat feels unloved it's their fault"
*****
The sound of the TARDIS dematerialising fills the air again and Jack ponders whether it's worth it to Retcon himself and Martha.