“AWH, COR! Yes, YES! I was so hoping for this!”
The Master leaps up from the jumpseat, which he’s been manning while the Doctor performs maintenance on the lower level. Â
He seizes Ophelia by the hands and spins her round once, then loudly kisses the tops of her knuckles.
   “DARLING Button! We’re gonna build two categories of baby supply. One, to stimulate the little pea-pod’s mental faculties, the other, to soothe and comfort them. A mobile with primary colors for the former; a device connected to your heartsbeat imitating the womb for the latter, and so on.” Â
The Master swoops down on his stepdaughter dutifully, with a tray of goodies that he (attempted to) cook, he who ordinarily could burn instant ramen. He’s done a miraculously average, competent job, with brownies covered in orange icing and darling Jack O Lantern faces that he would sell his soul for no one outside his family to know he–terror of the cosmos–made.Â
    “Dearest Button, these are organic brownies. Your body is a sacred vessel, and I’ll only feed it holy relics.” Â
The Master’s been staring fixedly at the horizon, on the planet where they’ve stopped their TARDIS. It’s another planet, far, far from the system of Kastobouros, that happens to orbit two suns. They set, now, and the sky is ablaze with blood red: their signature hue. Â
As his future dozes with her head on his shoulder, he rests his cheek on top of unruly dark hair. Â
    “Careful, someone might just accuse us of being cute.” Â
Missy chuckled a little as she looked at the view before them. “Oh hush, no one would dare to tell us that, even if it’s true.” She said sleepily, obviously not in her right mind when she was tired. “You’re comfy, Junior”
He turns to look down at her, from their seat on top of the inexplicable giant Greek column that is their TARDIS’s guise. He dons an insulted air, though he’s entirely joking.
    “What d’you bloody mean? I’m adorable.” Â
Icarus 