A/N: I'm trying to catch back up on some old fanfictions, I was always annoyed that I didn't finish this one, hopefully I can get some momentum going. Thanks to everyone who still reads, I'm always surprised to get new reviews on these poor stories I've neglected for so long. Enjoy!

Sometimes he wondered if he was going senile. He was old enough.

'Too easy', he'd think to himself. If he was senile he could hide behind his age. This was just his own insanity finally settling onto his shoulders like a worn coat, taking his shape and protecting him from the world outside his own head.

Even this body had gotten old. After his failed attempt as Harold Saxon he had wandered, traveling back and forth with a stolen vortex manipulator. Sometimes a new plan had occurred to him, a few times he had even laid the groundwork for another shot at politics or power, but they always fizzled out on their own.

He sat alone in his room, staring at the wall through eyes that had once seen the world more clearly. He doubted he had much more time. A few months, a year maybe, and this body would be finished. He wondered where he would go. The boy had ideas on how to prolong his existence again. Occasionally he caught himself wondering if any of it was worth it anymore. Mostly he just sat and wondered, now.

The boy came in now, grinning and talking animatedly about something. He wasn't listening.

"Well?" the boy asked.

"What?" the Master asked, turning as though he had only just noticed him.

The eyes darkened and some of the excitement drained from the boys face. He did not like to be ignored, and the Master knew this. The boy reminded him of himself when he was young, very young, and that unsettled him.

"We have him," the boy said more dully, but clearly pleased with himself. "Your instructions worked perfectly. Sherlock followed our little clue right into Torchwood and someone said the password. The whole place is locked down with him inside. Now," he said sharply, leaning towards the Time Lord with slitted eyes, "tell me how to use it."

The Master was silent a long moment, this time on purpose. He liked to remind the boy that this was going at his pace, that he was needed. "The Torchwood hub is impenetrable?"

"From inside and out."

"The other? You have him?"

"Mycroft is in our possession. He has not been very… helpful, unfortunately."

The Master raised an eyebrow.

"Not that we've been able to try too hard. I doubt he's comfortable, but he hasn't been harmed. It's time to move on to phase three."

"And the Doctor?"

"No sign. Your signal blocker is working, we tried him from Mycroft's phone."

The Doctor. That's what it always came down to anymore. There were billions of other planets for him to want, power to grab at every corner of the universe, but the Master wanted his planet. They'd been through so much, and he no longer knew how to describe how he felt towards the Doctor. Friendship turned hatred turned into respect over time. Jealousy? Maybe. Jealousy that another being like himself had seemingly found peace with beings as weak as humans. Jealousy that the humans got the attention of the only other Gallifreyan in existence. Well, not the only…

"Saxon?" the boy asked, growing impatient. He insisted on that name. Couldn't stand to call him the Master.

"Have you checked Baker Street?"

"We had eyes watching him walk into Torchwood. We saw him descend, and got the alert it had been locked down. We're sure he's there."

"That's not what I asked. He showed up too quickly. You only took Jack Harkness last night, it hasn't even been long enough for his team to miss him."

"So?"

"So, I suspect it has been longer for Sherlock. A week at least, maybe more. He would take the manipulator back to find Jack Harkness. That means Sherlock Holmes is both inside Torchwood and at his flat right now. If any harm comes to the earlier man, it would cause a paradox the later would not survive. We wait."

Moriarty's thin composure snapped, and the Master was vaguely aware of his screaming tirade as he thought about the boys. By all means he should be sickened by them, and he had expected to be the first time he saw them.

It had been years ago, at least twenty or so, but he was bad with dates nowadays, and rarely followed time in a straight line. He'd been tailing the Doctor for no reason other than boredom. Occasionally he'd hear a rumor about some impossible thing someone had witnessed, a miracle that came just in time, or an angel that came into town bringing death and change with it. It was never hard to get information from those who had seen him, they were all too willing to talk about that 'wonderful man' and how grateful they were.

He knew about Rose Tyler. She'd been his companion through the Saxon affair, he'd held a gun on her before. He was unsurprised to hear accounts of the blonde girl that traveled with him to each place. The surprise came when he heard the first accounts of a toddler in her arms.

He'd scoffed at the accounts at first. Eventually he decided that maybe Rose really had given birth, but it couldn't have anything to do with the Doctor. There was no precedent for a Time Lord and a human being able to conceive a child. After all, his time with Lucy Saxon had produced nothing but anger and resentments. Then the reports began to speak of a second child, and he began to doubt his certainty.

He was disgusted. For the Doctor to spend his life with lower life-forms was one thing, but to taint Gallifreyan blood with those of these ape descendants was beyond taboo. It was sick. The children had to be abominations, and his slow hobby of finding the Doctor took on new fervor. He had to confront him about this breach of nature, and if he ran into the children first them…. He was prepared to do what was needed.

It was winter on Earth the day he saw them. He'd been walking quickly down a small square near Jackie Tyler's home. The shops were decked out in reds and greens, preparing to celebrate a holiday he had not bothered to learn about. He had not heard anything new that week, but thought perhaps Rose Tyler may come home for the festivities.

Though he had his eyes peeled for the Doctor it was her he saw first. There stood Rose Tyler in a little purple parka, not thirty feet from him. She hadn't noticed him, she was looking through a rack outside a little shop. Before he could decide what to do, a small boy with bouncy black hair came running up to Rose's legs holding a nutcracker. The Master's breath caught in his throat.

'Would Grandma like this?' the boy asked his mother.

'Oh, I'm sure she would,' she said warmly, bending down to examine the toy.

The Master stared at the child. He would never know, not even now, what primordial instinct the boy had triggered within him. It felt as though he was alone in a world full of animals, and now had found another intelligent being suddenly plopped in front of him. Another Time Lord. He was, quite suddenly, not alone. The child was beautiful, and more importantly it was one of his own kind.

He saw the Doctor approaching from the inside of the shop and quickly concealed himself behind a nearby stand. Another child, older, trailed behind him. Another jolt, another sudden knowledge that his race was not dead. He could no longer hear them, but the Doctor said something and smiled at Rose Tyler, and they disappeared into the shop together. A moment later the little family left the shop holding bags of presents. The younger boy was in his father's arms, looking appreciatively at the gift he'd chosen for his grandmother.

For so long now the Doctor had been his only link to home, and they couldn't stand to be around each other. The Master had long since accepted that his planet was gone and his people with it. Although he still couldn't stand humans he had no choice but to admit that adding their DNA with a Gallifreyans had not tainted it, it had made something new, something marvelous that shook him to his soul. He wondered if the humans could feel this. Did everyone who laid eyes on these Children of Time see all they could be and feel the centuries of potential pouring from their brand new minds? Surely the Doctor saw what he had at any rate…

The Doctor. That complicated things. They were enemies, and he knew they would fight again one day, if not today. Then what? Would he kill the Doctor if possible? Then what would happen to these new Time Lords just beginning their journey?

He understood from that moment that he had a duty. In the same way a person on a large life raft may pull another drowning person aboard, he had a duty to his own species to protect the lives of these new Time Lords. It was only the beginning, there were only four of them now, but that was twice as many as he thought had been alive only minutes ago. For the first time since the war, the Master felt hope.

"Saxon!" The boy pounded his fist on the desk in front of him. Snapping him back to the moment.

"What?"

"I said how long. How long are you going to make me wait to take what's mine? Ours?"

The Master thought a moment. "Keep eyes on Baker Street. When Sherlock disappears, you'll know his timestream has realigned and there is only one of him, trapped down inside Torchwood. Then and only then does phase three begin."

The boy settled a bit and straightened out his jacket. "Fine. I'm done dealing with delays, old man. This is the last time I wait-"

"Oh no, I doubt that," The Master snapped, suddenly feeling more lucid. "From where I'm sitting you seem quite dependent on my expertise, James. Believe I'm a doddering old man all you like, but remember you need me. If I gave you all the information you wanted this moment, right now, there would still be plenty to learn. Do you know how to defend your soon to be acquired planet from another planet? What's your nearest off-Earth enemy? How will you stop the Doctor when he does come? He will, by the way, no matter how long we delay the inevitable, he will always come back to Earth, especially these days. If you don't fear him, you're a fool. You will meet my demands and stop acting like an impatient child."

Moriarty said nothing. He stared down his nose at the old man, his face unreadable. Finally he spoke. "The Doctor blocked from communications, both Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes secured and unharmed. That's what you asked and I will have all that secured soon. I won't wait again." He turned on his heel and left the old man there.

The Master went back to drifting in and out. He had waited long enough, now. The boys were grown. He wouldn't harm, them, and wouldn't let anyone else harm them, but they no longer needed the Doctor or Earth. It was time to strike.