A/N: Yeah, you guys should totally blame the plot bunnies for not letting me let this just stay as it was. –sigh- Well, looks like I'm in for a long drabble-y story that I have no idea on how it's gonna end. Have fun (and look what you made me do! Bad reviewers, bad! Making me want to continue a story… Pfft. Pisha). Warning, though. The chapters won't be long. As I said, drabble-y ideas will be making up the story. Terribly sorry if you wanted more.

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

It had been ten months, twenty-six days, five hours, and thirty-two minutes since the Doctor had made the mistake of not punching the Master in the face.

Well, that probably wasn't fair, Rose thought idly, running a rag over spilt coffee in her horridly fetish-y maid's dress. The Doctor wasn't completely at fault. She also should've punched the Master in the face. Too bad he had his little floaty balls of doom and metal to protect him.

A shiver worked its way along Rose's spine as the Master trailed his fingers across her neck, smiling down at her like she was some beloved pet who was acting particularly adorable. She leaned back, careful not to look him in the eye, a trembling working its way through her body. "Now then," the Master cooed, finally letting his fingers fall away from her skin. "No need to act like a scared little rabbit, is there, little girl?" That was his favorite nick-name for her, little girl. It made Rose ill to think that he and the Doctor had once been friends.

The Doctor. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, pitying. He was blaming himself, she knew it. At night she would make her way to his little tent, sitting next to the dog bowl to speak to him in hushed whispers. She'd let him into her head to look at memories of her childhood, to twirl with her through a gymnastics tournament, watching her meet Jonny Stone for the first time. He, in turn, let her see worlds the other Doctor, her Doctor, had never taken her to. Perhaps they didn't exist anymore in her world.

He still hadn't ever been to Barcelona.

Sometimes, however, they'd sit there, telling each other stories. When the Master had been more brutal to one or the other, the person who had been left alone would comfort the other. The Doctor, even when he looked so old, seemed to know the best pressure points to rub to make Rose feel like she could melt against the wall, tears slipping down her cheeks as he whispered Gallifreyan to her. Rose could do no more than sing her favorite songs, quickly learning that the Doctor had grown attached to 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'.

"Martha will help us," the Doctor had whispered to her one day, pressing his wrinkled forehead against hers, eyes fluttering in his body's attempt to force him to sleep, if only to escape the hell they had found themselves in. They had gotten into this too soon, having only known each other for half a week before the Master took over.

Rose simply nodded her head as best she could, her hand squeezing his. Martha, the young doctor who had escaped England. Rose still managed to get messages from the Doctor to her, going through a complicated chain of people she supposed she could trust. As she was still alive and not eviscerated in some corner for the other maids to clean up, she guessed they weren't working for the Master.

Hands gripped the sides of her face and Rose couldn't help the startled scream that escaped from her lips. The Master's face was too close, his stale breath washing over her face. "Listen to me when I'm talking," he roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

Rose's trembling had begun again, having died down during her thoughts drifting. He stilled, looking over her head at something Rose couldn't guess at. Not the Doctor, but out the window. A grin spread across his face and he dropped her, sauntering off to a tune found only in his head. A maid or two took half a step forward, no doubt wanting to help Rose to her feet, but they, like everyone else in the room, stayed where they were, focusing on their appointed tasks.

Suddenly the Master began to whistle. It took a moment for Rose to realize it was 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Slowly she looked up, eyes resting on the Doctor for a moment before swerving over to the Master, who paused long enough to grin at her and continue dancing.

Oh dear Lord, he knew. He knew and he was waiting for the most opportune time to crush her so that he could crush the Doctor's last grasp on humanity, sever the link between him and Martha.

Sitting up straighter, Rose turned to the spilled coffee that was beginning to dry and stain the floor. 'If he thinks I'm going to go down so easily,' she thought, viciously scrubbing away at the mess 'then over throwing him will be easier than I thought.'

A/N: Warned ya it'd be short.