Late fairy tale/epistolary response

[psifi872.livejournal.com]

I present a rather late entry to last week's prompt of fairy tale/epistolary.

Title: Cupid and Psyche
Author: Psi Fi
Summary: A retelling of the Greek myth Cupid and Psyche. The Doctor is seduced by a mysterious lover.
Pairing: Doctor/??
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic sex with mild consent issues, unbetaed



Once upon a time, the Doctor was rather exhausted. He'd had a busy week fighting first the Cybermen, then the Yeti, and finally keeping a priceless work of art, a jeweled tiara from the Beta Manna system, from being turned into a weapon for galactic domination by a Daemon! Not only his companions, but he himself, needed a good, long rest, so he'd set his TARDIS in orbit around an empty world, ensuring he could get some uninterrupted sleep. Nyssa and Tegan were already in bed, though whether they were sleeping...well, that wasn't his concern.

The Doctor climbed into the soft warmth of his own bed and very quickly drifted off to sleep. Slowly, he became aware of a solid weight beside him. The Doctor opened his eyes to complete darkness. He stretched slowly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. They didn't. The room stayed dark. The Doctor frowned, but he was still in his bed and the comforting hum of the TARDIS was steady in his mind. Concluding he was dreaming, the Doctor smiled and stretched luxuriously.

"You look like a very satisfied cat--an orange tabby perhaps," a soft voice observed.

The voice was extremely faint, making it impossible to identify. Though he could understand it perfectly, the Doctor would have been unwilling to swear, if it was male or female. He had forgotten about the weight next to him. The Doctor turned over, trying to see the other person, but the darkness was absolute.

"Who are you?"

"I'm yours. I would like you to be mine."

A hard hand, one the Doctor would vow was male, settled on the Doctor's shoulder and very lightly ran down his arm in a warm caress. The Doctor shivered. Anonymous sex was not something he cared for, but...there was something compelling here. Perhaps it was only the safety of knowing that he slept, but the caress had felt better than an unidentified touch reasonably should. Dream or not, the Doctor was both cautious and curious, so he reached out his own hand, slowly, wanting to touch the face of his mysterious bed-mate.

His strange companion permitted the Doctor's touch and the Doctor pressed his hand against the other person's face, confirming that it was a man next to him. The soft bristles of a beard pressed into the palm of his hand. Brushing his fingers upward, the Doctor discovered soft skin and a high forehead. A slight pang went through the Doctor, which he ignored.

"Well, you're male and you have a beard and mustache. That certainly narrows it down, though the only men I know of with facial hair aren't likely to climb into bed with me," the Doctor observed.

There was a moment of silence, then a soft chuckle.

"Perhaps, I only took the form I thought you would find most pleasing."

"That would suggest shape-shifting. Very interesting, indeed! But, why should you?"

"I do want to please you."

"Yes, you've indicated as much, but why?"

Once more, the Doctor felt hands carefully touching him. Skillful fingers slid across his chest and down his stomach and, even through the Doctor's pajamas, left behind an electric heat. The Doctor's breath caught and he leaned involuntarily closer.

"So beautiful," the soft voice murmured. "I want you, so very much."

"But, you won't reveal who you are to me? How do you even know me?"

"I can't tell you. Does it even matter? I want only to please you. Let me please you, Doctor."

The Doctor's response was halted by a pair of soft lips covering his own. The warm darkness heightened the Doctor's other senses and he moaned softly. The other man's mouth was warm and pulsing on his, driving away the Doctor's suspicions with their reality. The Doctor felt a wet, silky tongue touch his lips and opened his mouth. His bed-mate's mouth tasted sweet and earthy, like a good fruit. The Doctor was surprised at the pulse of arousal that surged through him, but was too entranced to object.

"Please, tell me who you are," the Doctor urged, pulling away slightly. "You can trust me, you know."

"I'm...not of a group that you would normally consider for a lover. Please. For now, at least, let me love you and don't seek to discover who I am...give me time, Time Lord."

The Doctor considered. He couldn't imagine why the man would want to remain hidden. He probably wasn't a Time Lord or human, but that was irrelevant, surely? Anyone who knew the Doctor should know that he didn't base merit on appearance. Anyone wanting to seduce him had an equal chance, regardless of species. Of course, the parts he had touched so far, certainly felt humanoid! The man had suggested he could change shape, so why try to hide his appearance? The Doctor shifted, wishing there was some light to relieve the darkness, then laughed. He had forgotten.

"This is all just a dream. I nearly forgot!"

"If that's what you want, then yes. This is a dream," the man concurred.

"Dream or not, though, what should I call you? I can't, won't, just refer to you as mine!"

"Though that's all I wish to be? Hm. Then, call me Eros."

"God of love and desire. That gives you rather a lot to live up to!"

"Then, let me begin," the voice whispered, becoming almost too soft to perceive.

Strong hands gently grasped the Doctor's shoulders, rolling him onto his back. The Doctor laid back, sternly banishing his curiosity. He placed his hands on what felt like strong shoulders and sighed, as nimble fingers stripped him of his clothes. As soon as his shirt was gone, his lover's mouth began exploring his chest, the tongue running down the Doctor's sternum and leaving a trail of damp warmth. His nipples were licked, then bit, then gently sucked on, making him arch up. A glorious languor filled him and he sighed contentedly.

An answering murmur echoed from his lover, who trailed strong fingers through the Doctor's hair, tugging the strands gently away from his face. Eros brought his warm mouth to the Doctor's face, trailing his lips in a series of soft kisses from the Doctor's temple and down over his cheeks, pausing to nibble softly at the corner of his mouth. The Doctor opened his lips and Eros obediently kissed him, dipping his tongue in to softly touch the Doctor's, before moving down to lick his throat.

The Doctor tilted his head back, allowing Eros complete access. It wasn't easy to give such a sign of trust, but the Doctor reminded himself that this was only a dream and allowed himself to relish his own surrender. Eros moved back and the Doctor started to protest, until he felt fingers at the waist of his pajama trousers. Eros peeled the cloth back slowly, ducking down to place soft kisses across the Doctor's hips and lower belly, tantalizing close to the Doctor's growing erection.

"MMmmmm, Eros, yes," the Doctor encouraged.

Cool air surrounded his legs, as Eros finally disposed of the trousers, tossing them aside. Eros's fingers were cool enough to belong to a Time Lord, the Doctor noted, as they they began caressing his hips. Curiosity lost again, though, when those clever fingers stroked over the Doctor's hips, then moved down to gently spread his legs and pet his inner thighs. The Doctor shifted upward, but Eros avoided his erection, shifting to kneel between the Doctor's legs. The Doctor did notice that Eros was already naked, feeling only skin stretched over muscle.

The Doctor moaned, as Eros' mouth replaced his fingers on the Doctor's flesh. The Doctor's thighs were laved with an eager tongue, then nuzzled and softly bit, as Eros worked his way slowly from the Doctor's knees to his now full erection. Eros tilted the Doctor's hips up, so that he was resting on Eros' thighs. Soft as his voice was, the Doctor could easily detect Eros' quickened breathing, as he continued to pet and caress the Doctor.

Now, Eros turned his attention to the Doctor's cock, petting and caressing it with slow, languid strokes, alternated with gentle kisses and licks up and down the shaft. A humm of satisfaction radiated continually from Eros' throat as he explored tenderly. The Doctor lay gasping, his own hands twisted in the sheets of his bed.

"Mu-Eros, please. Oh, that is good, yes! Please, you can h-have me, you know," the Doctor stammered, as a pulse of pleasure rocked his entire body. "Make love to me."

"Yeeeesssss," Eros hissed, happily.

He shifted around and the Doctor felt his fingers, covered in something wet, press down on the Doctor's anus. The Doctor spread his legs wide, opening himself eagerly. A single finger penetrated him, stretching him softly. The Doctor sighed in satisfaction, clenching and unclenching to gain stimulation. Eros chuckled fondly and added a second finger. He teased only enough to keep the Doctor from feeling any pain, as the number of fingers inside him increased. He twisted and scissored his fingers, prying the Doctor open steadily.

The Doctor concentrated on breathing as the sweet burn increased. He was breathing hard, eager for what came next. The fingers withdrew and Eros gently took the Doctor's hand, filling it with the lube. Smiling, the Doctor found Eros' impressive erection and slid the lube up and down the pulsing shaft. Eros moaned breathily and the Doctor wisely made a quick job of it, then lay back down.

Eros tilted the Doctor's hips up, then placed the head of his cock at the Doctor's opening. Keeping himself steady with one hand, he pushed in forcefully, listening attentively for any sound of pain or anguish from his lover. The only sound the Doctor made was one of greed as he pushed himself down, taking in more of his lover's erection. Eros whimpered, as he came to rest fully inside the tight heat of the Doctor's body.

"Oh, Doctor, so very lovely," Eros sighed.

"Yes, I think you've earned your name, Eros," the Doctor chuckled weakly. "Keep going, please. You feel fantastic!"

Eros obeyed, beginning a slow thrusting. He rocked inside the Doctor, leaning over him on his elbows, or at least in a way that brought his head close to the Doctor's. They kissed languidly, the pace of their kisses, matching the pace of their hips. As their love-making increased, the kisses became deeper and more frantic. When Eros lifted the Doctor's legs to his shoulders, he pulled his tongue into his mouth, sucking deeply. The Doctor keened continuously with pleasure, encouraging Eros' thrusting to become harder and faster. By the time they came, they were almost grinding their teeth together, their lips pressed together with brutal greed.

As his body released his essence deep with the Doctor, Eros slumped forward, resting his head on the Doctor's shoulder. Reaching up, the Doctor petted Eros' hair, finding it ended just at the nape of his neck. With a small sound of worry, Eros pulled reluctantly back.

"No, don't pull away," the Doctor coaxed. "I wasn't trying anything. This is just a dream, I know, but I want you close. I won't do anything you don't want."

"You promise?" Eros asked softly, his voice still heavy with pleasure.

"Well, yes, if you like," the Doctor agreed. "I promise."

With a pleased murmur, Eros lay back down, pulling the Doctor into his arms. They traded kisses that were once more tender and gentle, as Eros traced the Doctor's face with his fingers.

"I love you," Eros promised. "Dream or not, I love you. This won't be the last time we're together."

To the Doctor's confused delight, Eros was right. The Doctor continued to dream of him, their love-making growing more and more creative and satisfying, though he certainly had no complaints about their first night. The Doctor was sleeping more than he usually bothered to, eager for those moments when darkness obscured everything, but the sweetness of his lover's caress.

As time continued, though, the Doctor grew more concerned. He'd never had such powerful fantasies before. He wasn't aware of being lonely enough to conjure a dream lover, just to have someone to be close to. Certainly, his life was rather lacking in romance, but he enjoyed both his adventures and the company of the friends who traveled with him. He considered his life to be rather full and satisfying, but that didn't explain the persistence of his dreams about Eros.

The thought occurred that perhaps the TARDIS herself was scripting the dreams for him, but, when he'd asked her, she'd responded with a surge of fond exasperation. Indeed, she kept trying to pull his attention to the dimensional circuits of the time rotor, but he thought the dreams were more important than minor repairs. In fact, he was beginning to doubt that they were dreams at all. The more the Doctor considered the matter, the more certain he was that Eros was in some way real and managing to gain access to the Doctor, while he slept.

The Doctor simply couldn't imagine why Eros would approach him in this manner. So far, Eros had done nothing, except chat intelligently with the Doctor on a very wide variety of subjects and make love to him with a fervent sweetness that the Doctor had never before encountered. On the other hand, if real, Eros was managing to get into the Doctor's TARDIS without permission and allowing the Doctor to believe it was a dream! Within the confines of the Doctor's TARDIS, that should have been almost impossible. Eros' refusal to reveal his identity seemed more and more suspicious and menacing.

Unable to solve the riddle, without more facts, the Doctor decided to indulge the TARDIS and went to take a look at her dimensional circuits. Running the codes through the TARDIS mainframe, the Doctor found a strange echo in the programming, as if something or someone was ghosting his ship. He frowned. With this extra layer of code, a person would not be able to enter the TARDIS, exactly, but he would be able to pull a bit of the dimensional space of the TARDIS, such as the Doctor's bedroom, into a small pocket dimension. Of course, he would also have to be able to enter the pocket dimension, but there were plenty of devices that could manage that, even leaving out another TARDIS!

Apologizing to the TARDIS, the Doctor headed for his room. He now knew how Eros had gained access to him, but that left the question of the darkness that kept the other man so thoroughly hidden! There were a limited number of things that could create a blackness so absolute that even a Time Lord's eyes would not be able to see through it. Searching carefully, the Doctor spotted the merest trace of black powder caught in the carpet, right beside the bed.

The Doctor rubbed the black powder between his thumb and forefinger. He knew of it, of course. Draakina powder was rather famous on some worlds. It was an intriguing substance that had the ability to temporarily blind a person, without causing any harm to their eyes. Even continued, long-term use produced no ill effect. A person had only to breath in a small quantity and they would be blind for hours. Though harmless, in itself, the powder was used on many barbaric planets as an aid to torture. Idly, the Doctor wondered how Eros knew of it.

The knowledge that Eros was real flared like molten ice in the Doctor's mind and he sat heavily on his bed. His thoughts and emotions churned. Irrational or not, part of the Doctor was quite happy that Eros truly existed. The past weeks had been more than satisfying, both physically and emotionally. It had been a long time, since the Doctor had been so intimate with another and he had found it quite refreshing! Yet, there was no denying that Eros had been quite deceptive, even deceitful! He had allowed the Doctor to believe he didn't even exist!

The Doctor sighed. He could be quite cunning, when he needed to be. He knew how evil minds worked and could generally discover their corrupt intentions, without too much difficulty. Eros' behavior left him perplexed. It was too even a blend of tenderness and subterfuge! Surely, no sane person would go to these lengths simply to woo a lover he perceived as reluctant? In all their weeks of passion, the Doctor had discovered no part of his lover that couldn't pass for another Time Lord. Was Eros simply ugly? But, no, he had promised to reveal himself eventually, though, the Doctor had no reason to trust his word.

Of course, Eros was trusting the Doctor to keep his own word, as well! The Doctor bit his lip, considering his options. He had promised Eros he wouldn't attempt to discover his identity, but that was when the Doctor thought he was only dreaming! Surely, it wasn't reasonable to expect the Doctor to allow his TARDIS and bedroom to be invaded by someone unknown, no matter how loving! If Eros truly loved the Doctor, he would understand the Doctor's need to feel secure. If not, it was imperative that the Doctor discover what he was planning!

That night, resolved in his intentions, the Doctor went to bed and pretended to be asleep. He engaged his respiratory bypass, so that the Draakina powder would not take effect. He lay on his side, with his eyes closed, waiting for Eros. He didn't have to wait long, before he felt the fine dust of Draakina settle on his cheek. Moments after, he felt the bed shift and strong arms encircle his waist. Gentle kisses were placed on the back of his neck. The Doctor kept his eyes closed.

"Eros, the first night we were together, you promised me you would eventually reveal yourself to me," the Doctor reminded him.

Eros stilled and the Doctor waited, his heart pounding. When the Doctor made no further comment and didn't turn into his arms, Eros sighed.

"Yes, but this is only a dream. Does it matter, if this isn't real?"

Eros' voice was as faint as it had been that first night. The Doctor wondered how Eros was altering it.

"I know you've gained access to the TARDIS's dimensional circuits and about the Draakina powder. I know you're real, Eros, so yes, it does matter. I think I deserve to know your identity."

"You promised you would do nothing to discover it."

"Yes, but that promise was made under false pretenses. You've been deceiving me, Eros. Still, I thought, since I did promise, that I would give you the chance to keep your word and tell me the truth yourself."

"I can safely assume that you used your respiratory bypass to avoid the Draakina powder tonight?"

"Yes."

"Very well," Eros surrendered, his tone resigned.

The Doctor heard him cough lightly, then felt his weight leave the bed.

"You may as well turn and open your eyes, my dear Doctor," an all too familiar voice instructed, now sounding quite normal.

A wild tangle of emotion blossomed in the Doctor's breast, but he put on a neutral expression, before turning to look at the Master. His old friend and nemesis, his most dangerous enemy, stood by the bed, missing only his jacket to appear his typical self.

"You know, for once, you were actually close to the bottom of my list of suspects," the Doctor mused bitterly.

"Why is that?"

"I suppose, because I still hoped that Eros was in some way sincere, with all your talk of love. I was hoping this wasn't some scheme of revenge or destruction. Knowing it's you makes that hope impossible."

The Master's eyes narrowed.

"Shall I be given a chance to explain?"

"No," the Doctor answered coldly. "I don't think so. I'd rather not know the sordid details, thank you all the same. It's enough for me that this was all one of your plots."

"Doctor..."

"I said enough. Just go and don't bother trying to return. I'll be reprogramming my dimensional circuits. I should have known there would be side effects from the recursive loop you created. It's a problem I'll be correcting."

The Master bowed and took a small control device from his pocket, punching in a code. He gave the Doctor a look that was almost regretful.

"As you wish, Doctor."

The Doctor watched him disappear, his mouth dry and his chest tight.

"As I wish...oh, yes. This is exactly what I would wish for, damn you."

Cursing himself for a fool, the Doctor changed from pajamas to his usual cricket outfit. He doubted he would sleep comfortably anytime soon and certainly not before he finished the now- essential repairs to the dimensional circuits! He should never have let his guard down, that was now obvious. In hindsight, it was foolish to risk his heart, blindly. By morning, the Doctor had the dimensional circuits reprogrammed and was relatively certain that his TARDIS was as inviolable as ever.

The Doctor discovered a week later that his coat was nowhere near as inviolable. Returning to the TARDIS with his friends, the Doctor casually threw his coat over the console and an envelope landed on the floor. The Doctor frowned. That definitely had not been in his pocket, when he took his young friends to see the flying seals of Paphinaga. Picking it up, the Doctor excused himself, leaving the girls to their own devices.

The Doctor retired to the library, shutting the door. Sitting at his desk, he opened the envelope. Instinct warned him who the author must be. There simply weren't that many people capable of following him closely enough to slip a letter into his pocket. Sighing, he placed his glasses on the end of his nose and read:

My dearest Doctor,

Forgive me, but I must explain myself to you. I know what you think and I understand why. You believe, based on experience, that the weeks we spent together were part of some scheme to cause you harm. I don't blame you for distrusting me. I also do not apologize for the past. The hostility and antagonism between us was a choice we both made, not I alone. We both have our reasons. Yet, that antagonism was not behind my recent actions. There was no scheme.

I acted, my dearest one, not out of malice, but out of love. Does that surprise you, if you even believe it? I don't see why it should. You must know that I loved you, when we were children together. We were so close, then, how could it have been anything else? I love you now and it would be absurd of me to believe that was ever going to change. Yet, I knew how almost impossible it would be to convince you.

I needed to find a way to show you how I feel, knowing that mere words would never suffice. Words become twisted too easily between us, my dear friend, and, I admit, tender expressions have never been my strong suit. Well, amongst rational beings, isn't that was intimacy is for? In bed, hidden by darkness, I could be gentle with you. I could express to you the things that too often get lost in our dance as opponents. I thought I could substitute touch for inadequate words.

Please, don't misunderstand me. One of the things I adore about you is the challenge you present to my plans and to my intellect. Yet, there are other things that I value just as much. Intensely satisfying as our intercourse was, I savored our talks, perhaps even more. It was wonderful to talk to you in a relaxed way, without it becoming a verbal form of fencing. I've waited patiently for some time to speak with you, as a friend and equal. To my disappointment, no opportunity prsented itself. In Castrovalva and the Pleistocene era of Earth alike, we failed to communicate meaningfully.

So, what was I to do? Keep on pretending to hate only, where I also love the most? I'm no longer content to do so. Yet, I knew you would never listen to an offer of love from me, as the Master. That would require a trust that we no longer share. I needed a way to slip past your distrust long enough to express how I truly feel.

I wanted to be with you and hiding my identity was the only means I could conceive of to meet that goal. I wanted to be able to love you, without the burden of our long past weighing constantly down on us. Oh, I'm not a fool! I knew that your lover's identity would have to be made known to you, sooner or later. I also knew what your reaction was likely to be. You did not surprise me. That isn't to say that I was not hurt by your refusal even to give me a hearing! Still, I can't claim I was surprised.

There you are, my dearest Doctor. This is the best and fullest explanation of my actions that I can make to you. I suppose, it's rather a long letter, given its purpose, but I wanted to make sure I expressed everything that was needed. In truth, I'm not sure how to end. How do I sign this? As Eros, the lover who you no doubt feel betrayed you? As the Master, whose very presence fills you with anger and distrust? I could sign as Koschei, I suppose, a name from a childhood so distant that it might never have happened at all. Whatever name you choose, know this.

I am sincerely, Doctor, at all times,

Yours

The Doctor carefully refolded the letter, slipping it slowly back into the envelope, then opened a drawer and placed the letter inside. He stared down at the innocuous cream paper of the envelope for a few moments, before shutting the drawer and removing his glasses. The Doctor leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, forcing himself to breath through the ache in his lungs. Sorrow filled him, partnered with a longing the Doctor had spent centuries denying and locking away.

He wondered at the ways of the universe. The Doctor and the Master seemed, now, to be like the ends of a band of rubber, pulled with agonizing slowness further and further apart over the centuries, only to be sent crashing back into each other in a rather painful manner. He could well imagine the Master becoming impatient with the gulf between them and precipitating such a crash. The Doctor chuckled, ironically. How very like the impetuous boy he had been friends with!

It was, the Doctor considered, fortunate that Tegan and Nyssa had decided to stay behind on Terminus. He wasn't sure how he would have explained to either of them, what he now intended to do. Heading to the console room, the Doctor programmed his TARDIS to scan for the time traces of the Master and his TARDIS.

The Doctor caught up with the Master the first time on Rigellus IX. The Doctor landed within the same city as the Master, according to the TARDIS instruments, but apparently not the same block. Fortunately, he still had the same device he had used to track the Master on Earth, during the incident with Kronos. He turned a corner and spotted the Master standing next to a small group of people, his TARDIS not three feet away from him.

To the Doctor's astonishment and annoyance, the Master took one look at him, then bolted for his TARDIS and disappeared! The Doctor stood in the middle of the street, gaping, feeling more than a little hurt. All right, he'd been rather abrupt in his rejection of the Master. He admitted that. Still, the man had written that letter, reaching out again, and, well, he could at least wait and see how the Doctor had taken it, couldn't he? The Doctor sighed. Well, perhaps the Master had simply been caught off guard. The Doctor decided to give him a few days to consider the matter, before trying to talk to him again.

The Doctor spent the next few days fly-fishing with Turlough and trying to explain to the young man who the Master was and, given who he was, why the Doctor was so eager to catch up and speak with him! Turlough, the Doctor reflected, had very little sense of romance! True, the Master's morals were fairly non-existent, but, well, he did have his good points. The Doctor held the highest respect for the Master's intellect and the past weeks and the letter the Master had written proved, conclusively the Doctor hoped, that the man wasn't without feeling.

So, a few days later, well-rested and with some rather lovely trout stocked in the TARDIS's freezers, the Doctor once more set out to find his wayward best enemy. This time, he caught up with the Master on the rather seedy world of Boscuqt in the Trilbant system. The Master was speaking with a huge, rough looking person, who was dressed in leather armor and presumably heavily armed. Spotting the Doctor, the Master looked irritated and rather upset, which didn't make sense to the Doctor, at all.

The Master pressed something into his compatriot's hand and the thug turned and headed towards the Doctor. The Doctor placed his hands in the air, away from his body and walked closer.

"Look, if you don't mind, I'd just like to have a word with the Master. I don't mean any harm and I don't want any trouble," the Doctor assured him, hoping the Master was listening.

The Master's criminal contact didn't respond, but waved his hand in the air. Several other large men detached themselves from the shadows and lined up in the street. The Doctor looked towards the Master, who was hurrying down the street, away from them.

"Master, wait! I need to talk to you!" the Doctor shouted.

"It doesn't look like he wants to talk," the first man responded.

Fuming, the Doctor tried to feint around him, hoping he still had time to catch up to that stubborn, melodramatic...the Doctor's thought and flight both were cut off, when he was grabbed by the throat and lifted a few inches into the air.

"My name's Urqod. It's nice to meet you, Doctor. We've heard about you. Now, be a good, little do-gooder and run along back to that blue box of yours, okay?"

Urqod set the Doctor down, smiling as pleasantly as one could manage, with a face that looked as hard and cold as frozen concrete. The very faint whir and grind of a TARDIS dematerializing reached the Doctor's ears and he gave a defeated sigh.

"Yes, well, it looks like there's little point in my remaining. Thank you very much," the Doctor agreed, acidly.

"I did you a favor, I think. Master wasn't in a good mood, this time around. It's best not to poke and prod at him, when he's like that."

"You seem to know him rather well," the Doctor observed, a bit surprised.

"I'm smarter than I look and I get him what he needs. The Master likes that in people," Urqod reflected.

"Yes, I suppose he does. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you. Good-bye."

The Doctor settled his hat more firmly on his head and stalked back to his TARDIS. This was really just too much! What did the Master think he was playing at, refusing to talk to the Doctor? He knew the Master wasn't afraid of the Doctor. The very thought was absurd! Yet, the Master had looked almost stricken, at seeing the Doctor on Boscuqt. If only the Doctor had managed to catch the Master, before he reached his TARDIS!

Well, there was only one thing for it. The Doctor would have to land his TARDIS in front of the Master's, making sure the wily villain couldn't get away, before the Doctor had a proper chat with him! Nodding firmly, the Doctor immediately set off in search of the Master, determined to find him, as swiftly as possible.

Sadly, as swifty as possible turned out to be three weeks, as the Master performed some rather impressive evasive maneuvers through the Vortex. It was only a stroke of luck, that allowed the Doctor to pick up the Master's trail in the Hespem system, following him from there through the Ruskbup nebula to the Ombillan station in Graxisc cluster. The Doctor materialized on the station, right in front of the Master's TARDIS, with a feeling of triumph!

Sadly, the Doctor was arrested the moment he set foot outside his TARDIS onto the station proper. A Judoon squad stood just outside, weapons leveled at directly at him.

"Erm. Hello. Is there a problem? Only, I'm looking for a friend of mine," the Doctor explained, his hands once again drifting into the air.

"You are the Doctor?" the Judoon leader asked brusquely.

"Yes, I am," the Doctor confirmed proudly.

"You are under arrest. Charge: stalking. You are to be held, until trial can be held. You will come with us."

"Stalking?!! Of all the ludicrous, hypocritical, exasperating..."

"Suspect is advised to remain silent. Station coordinator Melbor may allow you to receive council."

The Doctor shut his mouth with a grimace, swallowing the rest of his rant. He would make certain that the Master heard the rest of his thoughts on this matter at a later time! Stalking, indeed! Was it stalking merely to want to chat with someone who claimed to love you? Where was the reason in that? The Doctor swore the Master was growing more irrational with every century. Senility was the only reasonable explanation for the silly chase he had instigated.

"I don't suppose I have the right to speak with my accuser?" the Doctor asked as he was led to his holding cell, only two corridors away from his TARDIS.

"Station coordinator Melbor makes all such decisions."

"May I, then, speak with Mr. Melbor?"

"He will be informed of your request," the Judoon leader promised, as he turned on the force field to the cell, with the Doctor safely imprisoned behind it.

Unless Melbor was an alien term for Master, the Doctor never got the chance to speak with the gentleman. Half an hour after the Doctor was imprisoned, the Master appeared in front of his cell, looking rather tired and put upon. The Doctor frowned, annoyance changing to concern.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, quite well, thank you," the Master responded, angrily. "A good chase across the galaxy was just what I needed! Then again, I'm not the one behind bars, so that's something."

"Yes, don't you think imprisoning me is a bit of an over-reaction? Given that you seem tired and I did have to chase you down, I won't mention the ludicrous charge you used to get me captured. I only want to speak with you and I'm rather confused about why you've been avoiding me," the Doctor reasoned.

The Master's eyes shut briefly, before fixing on the Doctor in an acid glare.

"Don't you? Forgive me, Doctor, but I think it's quite obvious. I don't want to hear what you have to say. You made yourself clear enough at our last meeting. I realize you're angry, especially if you've read my letter, but I don't think discussing the issue further will benefit either of us."

Cold bloomed in the pit of the Doctor's stomach. He frowned, moving as close the force field as he dared.

"Is that why you wrote it? To anger me?"

The Master drew himself up, his eyes wide and his mouth set in a hard line.

"I wrote that letter, because I wanted to give you the truth, whether you wanted it or not!" the Master answered, haughtily.

"And you couldn't imagine me responding with anything, but anger?" the Doctor questioned, his own tone becoming softer and sadder.

The Master blinked, a rare expression of confusion looking out of place on his features. He shrugged.

"Any other response would be unlikely," the Master admitted.

"Master, please," the Doctor sighed. "Let me out of here, so I can talk to you properly."

The Master shook his head, compressing his lips.

"No. You can speak well enough, where you are, Doctor. I'll let you have your say, then I will leave. In a few days time, I'll contact the station and drop all charges. Say what you need to and be done with it."

"Master, do you really believe I chased you halfway across this galaxy, only to tell you...I don't know what? Honestly, I can't even imagine what it is you think I want to say. I can't believe you think I could read that letter and have it not matter to me! Well, it does matter," the Doctor argued.

"Are you saying you forgive me?" the Master asked, suspiciously, making the Doctor huff with impatience.

"I lied, you know. Part of me was afraid that Eros was you, but another part was hoping for it. He always seemed so very familiar. You said in your letter than I should know that you loved me, when we were children. Doesn't that work both ways?"

The Master sighed, shrugging, unable to deny the justice of that. He did know. He'd never doubted Theta Sigma's love, not until long after he had become the Doctor.

"What do you want, Doctor?"

"I want you to release me from this cell and talk to me."

The Master turned away, then pulled a control device to the Doctor's cell out of his pocket. He hesitated briefly, then tapped in the code to the Doctor's cell. The Master watched gravely as the force field dissolved, then tossed the device back onto a nearby desk. As the Doctor stepped forward, the Master shrugged, holding his hands away from his sides, with the palms up.

"Well, Doctor?"

The Doctor couldn't help smiling at the dignity of the Master's statement. The Doctor walked over and sat on the desk, smiling up at his old friend.

"This does make talking rather more relaxed, don't you think?"

"I'm glad you're comfortable," the Master replied sardonically.

"But, you aren't. Understandable, I suppose," the Doctor observed regretfully. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted, Master. It's just...the idea that what we shared in those weeks wasn't real hurt. I didn't think you loved me anymore, that much is true. I wanted it to be real and I wanted it to be you, but I didn't truly believe it could be both. So, I responded in anger spawned by frustration."

"I wrote that letter, because I wanted the opportunity to express myself and to give myself a sort of closure. I did not expect to be hounded, because of it!" the Master snapped.

"It seems I'm not expressing myself very well with words, either," the Doctor sighed.

The Master just glared, resentfully. Smiling softly, the Doctor reached out and grasped the Master's hand. The Master stared down in bemusement. The Doctor pulled gently on the Master's hand and his beloved enemy stepped towards him warily. Not wanting to argue further, the Doctor simply placed his mouth on the Master's and waited for him to respond.

The Master's reaction was immediate and greedy. Ever the opportunist, the Master kissed the Doctor fervently. The Doctor reached up and cupped the Master's jaw in his hands, savoring the slight scratch of beard against his palms, as he held the Master in place, sucking hungrily on the Master's lips. The Master placed his arms around the Doctor's back, his hands stroking softly. Pulling back, the Master looked into the Doctor's eyes, his own questioning.

"I love you," the Doctor assured. "I do want to be with you."

The Master reached up and gently stroked the Doctor's cheek.

"Come on."

The Master led the Doctor back to where he had parked, but when they arrived the Master's TARDIS was alone! The Doctor gaped at the empty space in horror. Smiling ruefully, the Master shrugged.

"You were thought a criminal, being held for trial. Your TARDIS was impounded."

"Impounded? You let my TARDIS be impounded by Judoon?" the Doctor protested with great indignation.

The Master silenced his enraged lover with a soft kiss.

"I gave them very explicit instructions, Doctor. Your TARDIS will be fine. I'll even pay the fee to get her released to you. Tomorrow. Right now, we've other matters at hand."

Somewhat mollified and reassured, the Doctor allowed the Master to lead him inside the Master's TARDIS. The Doctor had rarely been inside this vessel and not in any of the Master's recent regenerations. Now, he gazed around in open curiosity, until they reached the Master's bedroom.

The Master only allowed the Doctor time to get the vaguest sense of the room's furnishings, before kissing him senseless. The Doctor opened his mouth willingly, but kept his eyes open. He wanted to see everything that happened, wanted to watch the Master making love to him. Reaching up, he began undoing the tiny buttons that fastened the Master's velvet jacket, making small noises of impatience.

Humming his own satisfaction, the Master pushed the Doctor's coat off of his shoulder's and off his arms, tossing it aside. Pulling back, the Doctor stripped off his jumper, while the Master, with practiced movements, swiftly took off his jacket, then peeled away his shirt. The Doctor eyes his lover's exposed torso greedily, savoring the sight of firm pecs, lightly dusted with hair which flowed to a line down the Master's stomach, then down into his trousers.

The Master made good use of the Doctor's need to gawk, removing the Doctor's shirt and petting his shoulders and chest. He rubbed softly at the Doctor's pale nipples, while smiling fondly at the freckles that dusted his shoulders. The Doctor shivered at the touches, his eyes threatening to flutter shut. The Master smiled teasingly.

In retaliation, the Doctor boldly opened the Master's trousers, dipping his hand down and stroking the Master's hardening flesh. The Master hissed with pleasure, his own eyes shutting readily. The Doctor studied his lover's face as he petted him, entranced by the Master's look of open enjoyment.

After mere seconds, the Master opened his eyes and opened the Doctor's trousers in turn, pushing them and the Doctor's underpants down his long legs. The Doctor and the Master both kicked off their shoes, then leaned on each other to remove their socks. Naked, they climbed onto the Master's bed, limbs entangling, as they embraced, kissing and stroking each other lovingly.

The Doctor started to roll onto his back, pulling the Master on top of him, but the Master shook his head.

"No. I want you inside of me," the Master ordered.

"Um, yes, all right," the Doctor agreed, a bit surprised. He'd topped Eros once or twice, but it wasn't something he had considered receiving from the Master.

The Master smirked, starting to roll onto his stomach, but the Doctor stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you mind? I want to be able to look at you," the Doctor protested, exasperatedly. "Draakina powder, really?"

"That and the slightest bit of psychic suggestion. A mere nudge beneath even your notice," the Master admitted, proudly.

Chuckling, the Master eased down onto his back, the pillow now beneath his head. The Doctor smiled, satisfied, and kneeled over the Master with his legs on either side of the Master's hips. Bending down, the Doctor kissed his darker lover slowly, running his tongue in lazy circles over the Master's lips, then sucking first on his lower lip, then the upper. The Master allowed him his leisure, running his hands contentedly over the Doctor's back and sides.

The Doctor couldn't help squirming a bit, since the Master occasionally took advantage and tickled sensitive ribs. The Doctor gave a muffled laugh, giving his incorrigible lover a reproachful gaze. The Master merely grinned, eyebrows arched in challenge. The Doctor decided it was best to move on and shifted down until his eyes were level with the Master's nipples.

The Doctor made ample attention to the Master's dark nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, until they formed hard little buds. The Master began to growl impatiently, but the Doctor ignored him, focused on watching his lover's flesh responding to his touch. Leaning down, the Doctor suckled one bud, then the other, very lightly, filling his mouth with his lover's taste. He scraped his teeth across the puckered flesh, making the Master moan. The Doctor smiled and nipped hard at the Master's chest, before licking him, frantically.

The Master's approval of this treatment was obvious, since his erection was pressing insistently against the Doctor's abdomen. Eager, the Doctor licked and kissed his way down the Master's stomach, until he was level with his lover's engorged cock. The Doctor petted this flesh gently, circling it with his fingers and studying the dark veins and flushed skin. He gently brought the tip to his mouth, kissing and licking it tenderly, while the Master moaned. The Doctor continued ignoring him, cupping and caressing the Master's balls.

"Doctor, I want you," the Master demanded.

"Yes, I know," the Doctor agreed amiably, running his soft cheek across the Master's erection, making him arch, gasping.

"NOW, Doctor!" the Master insisted.

"Yes, all right!" the Doctor soothed, hurriedly. "Lube?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, in the nightstand," the Master instructed.

The Doctor fetched the needed slick and swiftly coated his fingers. The Master's chest was heaving and his eyes stared at the Doctor with manic intensity. Smiling calmly, the Doctor forced a finger precisely and deeply into the Master's body. The Master moaned, arching up into the satisfying burn of painful pleasure. He hissed in relief, when the Doctor moved the finger around. After only a moment or two, a second finger joined in, twisting and stretching. The Master stretched like a cat, careful not to dislodge the source of his pleasure. The Doctor went to add a third finger, but the Master shook his head, impatient.

"No more. Put your cock in me, Doctor."

The Doctor was momentarily puzzled by the Master's demanding urgency, but then inspiration struck and he smiled tenderly. Leaning over the Master, he kissed him hard.

"Please, Master. I've waited centuries for this and I want to savor every inch of you," the Doctor explained, his voice smooth with promise.

Understanding flared in the Master's eyes, but he sighed.

"I need you," he admitted reluctantly.

The Doctor knew not to acknowledge that, so he gave the Master another lingering kiss. Shifting, he aligned their bodies, seeking the Master's opening. Shivering, the Doctor pushed steadily inside, drawing a harsh groan from his lover. The Master clamped his legs around the Doctor's hips, pulling him insistently closer. The Doctor cried out as pleasure burned into him from the silky pressure of the Master's body on his erection.

The Master rocked his hips, riding the Doctor powerfully. The Doctor moved, counter-pointing the Master's rhythm. Even now, he kept his eyes open, memorizing the Master's expression, the play of his muscles beneath his skin, and the way his hair fell back from his forehead. Increasing the pace, the Doctor wrapped a hand around the Master's organ, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The Master arched and growled, grinding hard onto the Doctor, who moaned.

Reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of the Doctor's neck, the Master pulled the Doctor's face to his, thrusting his tongue deep into the Doctor's mouth. The Doctor sucked eagerly on the tempting flesh and the Master shouted, coming hard. The Doctor's eyes widened as vibrations from the Master's orgasm sent a shattering wave of pleasure through his own body. With his own harsh cry, the Doctor spent himself inside the Master, thrusting frantically, his control gone.

The Master settled back into the bed, letting his legs drop. He pulled the Doctor down on top of him, wrapping his lover around him like a blanket. Exhausted, the Doctor curled around him, nestling his cheek against the Master's shoulder, with a contented sigh. The Master pet whatever flesh he could reach, exulting in the warm weight around him.

"Mine? Really?" the Doctor asked, pleased.

"Yes, really," the Master assured him, sending a psychic signal to his TARDIS to dim the lights.

The Doctor smiled and drifted off to restful sleep.