"River, what are you doing here?"
"Mother sent me to fetch you," the new Song woman says smiling widely. "Failure was not an option."
The Doctor sputters for a moment. "But what are you doing?" he finally demands, gesturing to her torn clothes and holstered guns. "Have you been asking Sontarians if they're out on hen nights again?"
If anything River's smile widens. "No, but that does sound like fun."
As the Doctor's mouth snaps shut he decides to make his move. "River Song," he says taking her hand and bowing over it formally. "A pleasure to meet you. You may call me the Master."
River looks at him, startled, and laughs. She's younger than she was before, he realizes, though she doesn't look like she's aged a day. The idea intrigues him. How has she managed to get younger yet not age? He's close enough that he can inhale her scent fully but the information it provides puzzles him. She smells of human, but the distinct odor of the Vortex is there too. He's been around the Doctor's companions and smelled the Vortex on them before, but nothing like this. It's almost as if the Vortex itself runs through the Song woman's veins. "The Master? People actually call you that?"
He keeps his face carefully pleasant as he smiles back. "It is my name."
"I'm not calling you that," River says, taking her hand back and walking up to the TARDIS console.
"You can call me Harry then," the Master says, a hint of desperation in his voice. Time can be rewritten, he thinks, and he'd do anything to rewrite that horrible name the Song woman calls him. "I go by that name sometimes."
"You don't look like a Harry to me," River says, musingly. "You look more like a-"
"Fairy cake?" the Doctor suggests innocently.
"Yes!" River laughs, clapping her hands together. "But what did we call them when I was in America? Cupcakes!" She turns to grin at him widely. "I'll call you Cupcake!"
The Master glares at the Doctor blankly. "The depth of my hatred for you grows day by day," he growls.
The Doctor grins at him and says nothing.
"Well now that that's settled we must be off!" River says cheerily, her hands reaching for the TARDIS controls.
"Off where?" the Doctor demands, reaching over to stop her. "And shouldn't we be comparing diaries?"
"Have you done our fourth Christmas yet?"
"No, but-"
"Then you're coming with me!" River laughs loudly.
They're dancing around the TARDIS together, one trying to send them into flight, the other one holding them back. "But River," the Doctor protests, "I can't take the Master to go see your parents!"
"Why not?" River laughs. "The more the merrier! And you don't want to know what Mummy suggested I do to you if you refused to come."
The TARDIS lurches sending him and the Doctor sprawling. River somehow keeps to her feet and, still laughing, lands them.
"There!" River says cheerfully. "Christmas 2016!"
"We have to go back. I haven't brought any presents!"
"Amy and Rory won't mind," River says, smiling. She bounds past them both to the TARDIS doors. "Now are you two coming or am I going to have to use force?"
The Doctor looks panicked for a moment before slumping in surrender. "We're coming, we're coming," he says. "Just- Go on ahead and tell Amy to set the table for one more for dinner."
"If you try and leave on me-"
"I won't," the Doctor promises. "Lord knows what you'd do to bring me back after all."
River smiles at them for a moment, suspicious, before opening the doors and stepping out. "You have ten minutes!" she says firmly, shutting the doors behind herself.
"Well she hasn't changed a bit," the Master grumbles to himself, dusting his pants off from his fall. It bothers him her lack of changing. Apes change constantly. Lucy was with him for a little over three years and she changed immensely during that time. Granted, it was from the little ape-girl he felt the fondness of a pet for to the ape-creature he could barely stand the sight of, but that was a large change. If anything, this younger River infuriates him less. Now does that mean he's getting used to her or that he's learned to forgive the young? He doesn't know which option is worse.
"What do you want?" the Doctor demands, grabbing his arm and pulling him so they're standing face-to-face.
For a moment he's flustered, his thoughts still on River. "What?"
"What do you want for-" the Doctor makes a little helpless gesture towards the door, "for not ruining Christmas? What do you want for it?"
His mind races. "Eternal freedom."
"No."
He wasn't expecting an agreement to that one. "Hour head start."
"No."
"Half hour head start."
"No."
"Five minute-"
"No."
"Well then what will you give me?"
The Doctor looks thoughtful for a moment. "I'll have the TARDIS put an attached library to your room with all the books you want in it."
The Master scoffs. "For spending an entire evening being pleasant to a group of apes? That'll only get you a pleasant greeting and through the front door."
"We won't force you to join us on the planets we visit or lock you into your room. AND," the Doctor says loudly before he can interject. "I'll make River stop drugging your food."
"She's been drugging my food!?" the Master shouts, eyes flashing to the door. All the potential good will towards this younger Song is lost. This isn't the right River but he can still make her pay.
"It was her turn to pick a cure," the Doctor mutters lowly, almost looking embarrassed.
"See that, that, is what I want changed," the Master snaps, eyes going back to face his oldest foe. "No more meddling. No more trying to 'fix' me. There's nothing wrong with me and nothing you can do will force me to conform to your ridiculous standards of behavior."
For a moment he thinks that the Doctor is going to protest, but instead the fellow Time Lord closes his eyes slowly and takes a deep breathe. "Fine," he says. "No more meddling, we'll leave you alone more, and you get your own library. In exchange, you have to be pleasant, polite, and as un-you as possible for the duration of the evening and Christmas morning. Deal?"
"I also want to rebuild my laser screwdriver."
"Sonic and I get to build it."
It's a better offer than he'd been expecting from an opportunity that he'd never saw coming. "Deal."
They shake hands on it.
"Alright then," the Doctor says a little more brightly as he spins towards the door. "Let's see what Amy's has for us."
The Master straightens his suit, smooths back his dark hair and follows him out. With his own screwdriver he'll be able to get through the security system on the TARDIS that's keeping him out, he thinks to himself. Once he has control of the TARDIS all he'll have to do is wait until the Doctor and Song woman leave and abandon them on whatever forsaken world they're visiting. After they're gone he'll have enough of a head start to dig in someplace and build up a power base. Not Earth this time, he thinks, Earth is too obvious now. But maybe he'll discover how River broke into the Time-Lock and pull a few other Time Lords from the destruction of Gallifrey. Raise up Rassilon again and kill him more slowly this time. Oooh, that could be fun!
The Doctor is babbling at his side again and he ignores him as he plots.
"And when I say be pleasant I really mean it," the Doctor is saying and is relieved when he notices that the Master is smiling already. "You already know how River can get, but you have to understand that she really is Amy's daughter and you really don't want to anger her either. She did kill a woman by allowing her to be slowly electrocuted to death after all, but that was probably less than she deserved. Oh! And be nice in front of Rory. He may seem like a pleasant and calm chap but he has a mean right hook, a sword upstairs, and the training to use it. Romans you know. Always excellent with the short sword and vicious fighters and Rory made it to Centurion so you know he knows how to fight. Heh. Rory Williams, Last Centurion… Bet he never thought his life was going to go that way when I popped out of that cake."
Looking back, the Master realizes he should have listened to the Doctor babble, but at this moment in time he doesn't care. After all, he has murder in his hearts and a free future mapped out in front of him and, for once, he's almost happy. But true happiness is always elusive to those that don't know what they have until it is gone.
AN: Just wondering, does anyone want a break down of the Christmas party itself or are we all so sick of Christmas still that we only want the aftermath? Suggestions welcome and thank you for reading!