Epilogue
Author's note: The very final word in this story, and more fun to write than the other four chapters put together! Of course, it helps that it's so short. But sweet, I hope.
Many days later, the Doctor lies half asleep in his bed. Keeping the Master happy has turned out to be exhausting work, albeit of the very best kind. With permission, he’s left him listening to some music, to slip away for a nap.
Without speaking, the Master enters and begins to undress him. First, he removes his tie and moves it upwards, fastening it firmly around his eyes. The Doctor smiles, responding to the touch, and makes his pleasure plain. The Master hates it when he fails to show enthusiasm.
He can’t see the Master’s satisfied grin, but he feels him restrain his arms and begin to tease his bare skin. Their knowledge of each other’s bodies has skyrocketed; now they now all the fine details of their latest forms. Soon the Doctor is gasping and begging, shouting the Master’s name, and nothing affects the Master like that. He’s so close to ecstasy. A moment later, though, and the real heat will begin … their minds have never been so connected, so free of barriers or hidden areas. The resulting explosion is incredible, every time. It can blow both of their minds for a good couple of hours.
They never get there. The shrill sound of the Doctor’s mobile phone interrupts. This happens fairly frequently, as the Doctor’s human friends try to smooth out the recent alien encounters their planet has experienced.
The Master instantly releases the Doctor, loosening the tie from around his eyes. He feels a swell of satisfaction as he notes that the Doctor seems even more frustrated than him.
“Go. Go on.”
The Doctor wavers. This is what he does - or, at least, it’s what he’s always done - but he has other priorities now. “I don’t have to …”
“I said go …” the Master’s tone is firm without being angry. “But I want you back by six.”
The Doctor breaks into a grin, a cheeky irresistible grin. “Yes, Master.”
“And you’ll have to do something extraordinarily special to make up for it when you get back.”
Another brilliant grin. “Yes, Master.” He disappears.
The Master stretches on his back and waits for the tension in his body to subside. He knows the Doctor probably won’t be back by six. Emergencies keep their own schedule. But if he isn’t … well, it’s an excuse for some delicious punishment, isn’t it?
The Doctor arrives back at exactly two minutes past six. The Master makes him pay, exquisitely, for every second of those two minutes. This time when they get close, there are no interruptions. It is four hours before they recover; an hour before they can even speak.
In that time, the Doctor stays inside the Master’s mind, enjoying the sound of … silence. There’s no noise any more, hasn’t been since the first time their minds connected fully. Neither can properly explain it. It doesn’t matter. He rests his head on the Master’s chest and listens to the heartsbeat instead.
FIN.