DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Doctor Who. Yes, I wish I did. No, I don't earn any money from this. Yes, David Tennant is My Doctor.

ALL PRAISE TO THE MIGHTY BBC! ;)

SUMMARY: Starting at the end of Utopia, things change for the Doctor and the Master. But in a good way, I promise! Doctor/Rose. (This is my first fic, so take it easy on me, please!)

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"Absolutely amazing, really. Should have tried this centuries ago!" The Master laughed uproarously, but sobers quickly. "Sorry again, old friend. It took all of this to help me see clearly. And your memories in my head... how did you manage not to kill me, all those chances you had?"

The Doctor smiled at him, pleased at his reaction to the banana cream pie he found in the kitchen and Jak's now empty bottle of hypervodka. "You were my friend once. I'm not about to kill someone because they tried to kill me. Be no one left!" The Doctor smiles.

Jack snorts from his position, facedown on the tabletop. "Understatement of the year, that is."

Laughter pours from the kitchen in warm, rolling waves.

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Days later, The Master is steady enough in himself and in his own mind to leave the infirmary under his own power. He immediately sees Martha in the hallway and is swamped with guilt.

"Martha. I'm so sorry. For everything."

"You killed her."

He winces. "And I'll live with her death, and countless others, for the rest of my lives."

"Good." She walks away

He sighs and makes his way to find The Doctor before locating him in the library. His old friend is reclining on a large plaush, emerald green sofa, feeding a pair of ducks he sees swimming in the pool and reading The Evolution of Sentient Gelatin.

"Your reading material leaves something to be desired," he laughs.

The Doctor looks up and tosses the rest of the muffin to the ducks. "How're you feeling today? Any pain, dizzyness, nausea… psychotic breaks from this form of reality?"

The Master laughs and sits on the other end of the couch, facing The Doctor. "No, No, none of that."

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before The Master couldn't hold back any longer.

"I want to help you."

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow. "Help me? Do what, exactly?" Suspicion colored his voice thickly.

The Master sighs and sits forward, hands clasped between his knees. "I heard you telling Jack about Canary Wharf," he begins carefully and watches as The Doctor sits back carefully.

The TARDIS quickly moved the pool away, replacing it with a crackling fireplace.

"I think i know of a way to get her back. If you want her, that is." The Doctor stared at him and said nothing, but The Master hurried on. "I mean, it's gonna take a hell of a lot of work and research and it might fail, but it's worth a shot right?"

He stopped and The Doctor continued staring at him, saying nothing.

"I'll make sure it's safe," he whispered. "No universe collapsing, I promise. You need her more than you're willing to admit and I'll bet my lives that she needs you, too. You can't keep going like this or you're going to die. I have to do something. Anything to help you see that." Nothing. "SAY SOMETHING!"

The Doctor turned his head to stare into the flames.

The Master just sat there watching him, then growled as he stood. "Arg... sorry." turned away. "Shouldn't have mentioned it," and made to walk out of the library.

"Thank you." The Master stopped and turned back to The Doctor. He looked so broken. Lost. The Doctor turned hollow eyes to the man he once called brother of his heart, the man that also tried to kill him and enslave the universe so many times. The man offering to help him attempt something so dangerous, so mind-numbingly awesome...

"It's impossible."

The Master smiled slightly. "Your definition of the word needs ... regenerating," and walked out of the room.