It was the greatest mystery to the Master how Donna could be sulking about getting away from life threatening danger. She had seriously tried to convince him to stay and solve the whole thing. That he had almost died just some minutes ago seemed to be completely irrelevant.

So much for her tears.

Or maybe… maybe it was because she had gotten too used to the Doctor's recklessness, to his sheer suicidal tendencies when it came to adventures.

Stupid.

The Master wasn't like that. He knew when it was time to leave the battlefield. Literally, in the case of the Time War.

He had, however, made a deal with Agatha. If she would manage to solve the case, she had to write a book about it, change as many details as she wanted, as long as an involved person could understand the meaning.

Donna decided on the title: The Unicorn and the Wasp.

Agatha gave them a small pile of books they had never heard of and also two she hadn't even published yet.

Not everyone was happy, but, as far as the Master was concerned, he had done a lot more good than he usually was willing to do. For his own reasons, yeah, but it should still count, shouldn't it?

Why did it even bother him? He didn't need any approval. He didn't need the Doctor to smile at him with this proud and childish expression and certainly not with the shy one he had hopefully seldom shown to anyone but the Master.

Alright, stop!

He scowled, kicking a pebble away. The bag with the books weighed heavy on his shoulder. Finally, more books.

Distraction.

He knew exactly from what. Or rather whom. After all, he would spend way too much time in the TARDIS. Even with the Doctor no longer holding him back, the Master wouldn't leave, would he?

Where to?

There was no place in the whole wide universe where two specific faces would not follow him, where the memories of their time together would not haunt him. As it did right now in the form of a little black dragon on Donna's shoulder.

Another mystery.

The Master hoped the creature would disappear again soon so he wouldn't have to be reminded all the time. Of his own stupidity. Of the damage he did whenever he let the reins of control slip even a little. And he needed those reins. He needed them, needed them, needed, needed, needed, needed…

Breathe.

"Donna! Where have you been? You just wanted to go shopping, but you were gone for ages!" The Doctor came running towards them, coat missing and shirt buttoned in a mess that didn't make much sense. "And…" He got slower and eventually stopped, glaring at the Master. "You're still here." Spoken as if it surprised him. Honestly surprised him. And that made the Master's guts twist. "What did you… where did you…" His look wandered back and forth between him and Donna.

"Did not harm a hair on her head," the Master promised with a hand between his hearts. The wellbeing of the human strays was always the biggest concern. And that too made his insides feel like someone had put them through a wringer.

That look on the other one's face. There was so much worry and now it morphed into an expression of utter misery. Because the Doctor knew. He knew what monster the Master kept inside of himself. He knew how much it took the Master to keep this monster on a tight chain. He knew how dangerous even a chained beast could be. Because he knew it sometimes didn't take much to let the restraints slip just enough.

The Master had never wanted to be a good person, loathed the thought even. But sometimes… just sometimes… he realised too late that he had gone too far. He saw it in the pained expression the Doctor wore and it gave his guts yet another unpleasant twist.

"Don't worry." It was impossible to hide the spite in his voice. "I'll be gone in a minute. You don't have to see me again anytime soon."

"You… huh? But you're here." The Doctor's voice cracked a little. Not in disappointment. That was strange. "I thought… You weren't in the TARDIS anymore and… and… I…" He groaned and rubbed a hand over his neck. "I don't want you to leave. You spooked me there with the drums, but I never, never, never, wanted you to go! I swear I didn't. I don't even know what to do when you're gone? Chase you? Leave you be? I wouldn't even know if you're alright or even alive anymore and I don't want… I got too used… I just hoped, you know… it was just hope and it's silly, because you never said you wanted to be with… here…"

This time, when the Master's hearts both jumped, it wasn't painful and yet it was a thousand times worse. Hope. The very thing that could burn his entire being to the ground if he ever allowed it to take a hold of him.

He couldn't.

And he stepped forward, gently taking the Doctor's head in his hands.

He wouldn't.

And he looked into those brown, sad eyes that pleaded him to stay.

He wasn't allowed to!

And he stretched upwards just enough to meet his lips and seal them, claim them, savour them. The taste he had missed more than he cared to admit, the feeling of them he couldn't get enough of. And the Doctor made a little surprised noise, but didn't even think to retreat. No, no he didn't. He couldn't, he wouldn't, he wasn't allowed to!

"We'll, this's settled then. I'll take the books and hide in the library for a while. No need to see ya two shaggin' through the whole TARDIS."

They winced in unison and watched Donna push the doors open, vanishing inside without another word.

"Books?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You two've been books shopping? And was that Kira on her shoulder? I thought-"

"Doesn't matter now." It was embarrassing how fast his hearts beat. It really was. But right now he couldn't care less. The Doctor wanted him to stay, even after being hurt like that. It almost made the Master want to hurt him even more, just a little. Just to hear those sweet words again.

The Doctor's eyes landed back on him and there were so many emotions and thoughts swimming inside of those brown orbs, all of them too fast paced to really grasp in full detail. The Master didn't let him think them, he guided the Doctor's head back towards him and dropped their foreheads together.

"Stay away from my mind." It wasn't a plea, or a warning, not even a command. If anything those words were a fact.

"We won't find out then. Is that… really okay?"

No! No it was not. Not even a little. "It's better than having you go mad. I don't want that."

The Doctor chuckled and stepped back. "Careful. You're getting sentimental."

"Tz, not at all. But who am I going to play with then?"

"Play with yourself." The Doctor grinned and moved out of the Master's grip, leading him inside into the warm glow of the TARDIS.

"Play with myself… Oh Doctor, you're either too innocent or too ambiguous here."

"Too… innocent?" He knocked the fusion compression level over and typed in new coordinates, before pressing the few buttons for the time vertices calculator to boot up.

The Master chuckled. "Obviously." And he stepped behind the other man, reaching past him, one hand against his back, to flip the small switch for the stabilisers.

"Oh, you're no fun."

"I don't like being thrown to the ground."

He kept his hand where it was, even when the Doctor turned around, so his fingers now lay on the other one's chest, right above the hearts. It was no imagination that they sped up slightly. The Doctor looked down at them, swallowing. The Master could feel the other mind race, tendrils of his consciousness recognising the changing pattern.

He curled his fingers around the tie and pulled a little, more of a tug, really. Eyes wandered, shily resting on his, then snapping away as if his gaze alone could burn. And it might, it tried. He wanted to burn his thoughts right into that brain, mark him, take him. But instead he searched, he searched those evading, wandering eyes for the tiniest sign of madness, of any trace the Master could accidentally have left there.

"I'm alright," the Doctor whispered. "No lasting damage." And then he had the audacity to smirk and the expression was smug, way too smug for what a blubbering mess he had been just moments before. "You were worried about me, weren't you?"

"I was not!" The Master scowled. He contemplated really pulling at the tie and to just shut the other man up. "I'm surprised, though. That you are taking the risk."

"Aren't I always?" The Doctor leaned in just a little closer. There was a hint of his aftershave hanging in the air, clouding the Master's senses all of a sudden. "It's what I live for. It's what I lo…"

Oh, he didn't need to say the word. All the words. And yet, the Master wanted to hear them again. Because he couldn't believe them. "You can't impossibly be that enamoured with death."

"No?"

But you are death, said his eyes.

The Master huffed. "No."

He moved ever so subtly, bringing his body closer to the Doctor, dragging himself in by the stupid tie. Say them, say them, say them, say them! His mind screamed with the rhythm of the drums. How pathetic to feel so needy, but he couldn't stop himself, didn't even know if he really wanted to. The Doctor hesitated to follow the lead, he still didn't even look properly at the Master, yet his hearts fluttered away, fast and frantic like birds in a cage.

"You want me here," the Master stated, his words too breathy for his own taste. "I damaged you and still you beg me to stay. You of all people know who I am. And still… and all of that because you think you… you can't be serious. I know what a game looks like and this screams for a trap!" With another, rougher tug he brought their faces close together, forcing the eye contact. And there was fear, clearly displayed in the other man's face. Fear, not because of him, that much the Master could feel.

The Doctor's tongue darted over his lips. He'd deny it, wouldn't he? He'd run away again and… "Yes." The Master startled at the word, almost letting his grip loose. "I… I'm not good with this, Master. But yes, I told you already. And I'm not going to change my mind just because…"

The Master grinned nastily. "Because I'm mad? A monster?" A little closer, weren't they? "I'm not going to become someone else because of you."

"I know."

And that was enough. Self doubts don't get you anywhere and he was still the Master. So he did what his title demanded and took the lead before this tension could get out of hand entirely. Maybe it already had and he was only falling for that, but who was he to ever admit it? No, he rather tugged the tie again and brought their mouths together. Stupid distance. He wanted to feel the Doctor's resolve crumple once more, wanted to hear the small noises he made before giving in.

To his surprise, the Master got aware of hands roaming over his own chest, carefully, with hesitance. One hand slipped inside his waistcoat and it made him squirm ever so slightly. He should not react so easily, but what did it matter? As a response he intensified the kiss, demanded entrance with his tongue and pressed his body forward, wanting to feel, wanting to be close.

Maybe also wanting the control that he felt slipping. The drums got a little louder, thudding slow in contrast to his heartbeats. He didn't care. He only wanted to explore, to touch, to taste. The Doctor didn't move much, too insecure and maybe shy. So the Master took the lead. It's what he is best at, after all.

Shirt buttons popped open under his fingers, the inaccuracy of their doing undone. There was another layer, one he couldn't get rid of so easily, so instead he wandered lower, tugged the affronting cloth out of the Doctor's pants and slipped up to his hips, pushing himself yet closer, although it should hardly be possible.

The Doctor groaned. It wasn't loud, but distinct in the quiet space of the console room. It reminded him of days long forgotten, of red fields and red sunshine and red lips. They had been young and everything had been new. Now it was neither.

The Master slowed the kiss, hand placed firmly above beating hearts. Oh, by all stars! That look the Doctor gave him, wide eyed and full of wonder, admiration even. Something fluttered in the Master's belly and he couldn't even manage to scold himself for it. Stupid, stupid Doctor, doing something like that to him.

That and so much more. He left the comfortable place on the other man's chest and slipped deeper, gliding ever so softly downwards until he reached cloth again, another button. There was a twitch, he could feel it clearly. Not much more, but it was evidence of how much willpower the Doctor had to use to keep his body from reacting. The Master too. His blood rushed down, down, down, down, but he didn't allow himself to get erect. Not yet. Not here.

"Somewhere quiet," he breathed against the Doctor's lips. "I don't care where."

The other one nodded. "My room?"

"Mhm…"

The Master smirked, then took the Doctor's hand and dragged him along. He didn't want to wait any longer and he didn't want to fight for control either.

Red gras and red sun rays.

He only wanted to return.