Chapter 1: Finger Painting (With the Enemy)

"Come on, one more trip?" the Doctor begged, standing at the door of his blue police box. Martha's expression stayed the same: empty. He was considering going down on his knees, begging.

/Yes, you would, wouldn't you, Doctor/

/Get out of my head, Master, I'm busy/ He couldn't deal with this at the moment, didn't want to deal with anymore of the Master's crap.

/Or what?/ The Master was challenging him, winding him up.

/I'll deal with you later/ He closed the imaginary door in his head, fastening the padlock moments after the Master's response.

/I look forward to it, Doctor/

"Are you ok?"

"Uh… yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Spaced out for a moment. Woah, that was weird." Talk fast. Talk fast so she doesn't realise you're messed up. So she doesn't realise how much you need her to keep you sane. Especially with him on board.

"Fine, I'll come with you." Martha gave him a little smile. "Only one trip, though, and I want you to return me right here, right now." She paused. "You can do that, right? You can get us there and back without messing it up?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" the Doctor promised, secretly going into panic mode. He could do it, couldn't he?

"Ok, that's sorted then!" She was glad she wasn't leaving this way of life quite so soon, but deep down was that feeling she couldn't shake off, the knowledge that she would have to return to her family before too long.

You can't run forever, Martha Jones, her conscience whispered.

"One trip," she promised herself. Only one trip.

"Dinner for three," the Doctor said, waving his arms in a large arc, gesturing at the table.

"Candles, how quaint," the Master quipped. "Any possibility you could remove me from these chains? Or are you going to feed me like a baby? The Doctor waved his sonic in the direction of the Master, who collapsed onto his knees, rubbing his wrists and the angry red welts which had appeared there. He glared at the Doctor.

"I don't want to keep you tied up-"

"Like an animal!" the Master cut in. The Doctor looked at him with soft, brown eyes.

"Really, I don't."

"You don't trust me, Doctor," he spat out. The Doctor flinched, but the Master continued. "It's worse, though, isn't it? You don't trust yourself. That's why you brought her along." He jerked his head at Martha, who was gazing at him with a sort of fixated disgust. "You don't trust yourself around me."

"Master..."

"I'm eating alone." He heaved himself to his feet, wincing slightly as he stood, then took a plate. Silently he spooned himself a small – no, tiny – amount of food and stalked out of the room.

"You have to eat more than that. Do you want to starve?" But the Doctor was only talking to the Master's retreating back. "There's a kitchen third on the left, you can eat in there." The Doctor knew when he needed to compromise.

Martha stared at her plate, prodding the food with her fork. The Doctor had gone out of his way, actually cooking for once as opposed to serving up food straight out of the synthesizer. He had slaved for hours, for her. Or maybe the Master. Or maybe both. She would have appreciated his efforts, but for the fact that that disgusting piece of filth was travelling with them.

"One more trip," he had promised her, but had kept this secret to himself until she was committed. This wasn't the Doctor she knew.

"How can you have him near you?" she burst out, unable to contain herself any longer. The Doctor looked up at her silently, chewing slowly. "I mean, remember what he's done. To me, to you, to my family!" Still silence. "Doctor, answer me! How can you hold a conversation with him after what he did to earth? After the trauma we went through trying to stop him?" There was a desperate glint in her eye and her hands were shaking as she gripped the table to steady herself. The Doctor looked at the Master's empty chair, unable to face Martha.

"I know how you feel," he began in a whisper.

"No you don't! How could you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He still wasn't looking at her. "But the Master is all I have left."
"You have me..."

"Not for much longer." And Martha couldn't deny that. "I need the Master. I know you hate him, detest him even, but please, for my sake, just ignore him. This is our trip, ok? And he's already shown us that he would rather not grace us with his company." Martha didn't feel much better, but she managed to eat the food in front of her to keep her Doctor happy.

"I'm bored," the Doctor whined, his fingers hovering over the humming controls of the TARDIS. "Let's do something fun!" He pulled on a lever, pressed buttons excitedly and all but bounced off the ceiling. "Pick a place, Martha, pick a time. This is your trip!" Martha let her eyes wander over the TARDIS's controls, racking her brains and searching for inspiration. Anywhere she liked...

"The future. New Earth!" The Doctor frowned.

"I've taken you there before."

/You haven't taken me there, Doctor/ The Master's voice entered the Doctor's mind like an electric shock. He hadn't been expecting it.

/GET OUT OF MY HEAD!/ He felt the Master's conscience reel away from him, and glad as he was to be free of the violation of his privacy, he missed the sensation, just a little.

"I know, but I want to see it in all its glory. The way you had expected it to be when you took me there. The way it wasn't. Plus, you told me it had excellent shops, and I haven't treated myself to a little retail therapy for, oh, over a year now. Please, Doctor?" The Doctor pulled on yet another lever and they felt the TARDIS jolt beneath them.

"I did say anywhere..."

"Don't forget any time..." They burst out laughing in synchronisation. It was like before, before the Year That Wasn't. It was something special.

/Can I come, Doctor?/ The Master tentatively probed his way into the Doctor's mind.

/You're taking advantage of this new connection/

/As if I would take advantage of something. And don't pretend you don't like it, Doctor/ The Doctor had no reply. He watched Martha pacing the TARDIS, waiting for him.

/You can come/ he relented.

"You said it was my trip," Martha whined, as the Doctor led the Master into the main control room, before realising how childish she sounded and shutting her mouth. The Master laughed.

"Just ignore him," the Doctor soothed. "It's safer to take him with us than leave him here. And he's attached to me. Like a bond. Not entirely sure how it works, but he can't leave my side. He's already tried."

"All bonds can be broken," the Master muttered.

"Not this one," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Anywhere outside of the TARDIS and he's stuck to me like glue. The TARDIS kinda overrides it, giving both him and me more freedom. Otherwise I woulda ended up killing him by now."

/Don't joke like that, Doctor. She wishes you would kill me. Can't you see the pain you're causing her?/ Mocking laughter echoed through the Doctor's head.

"Shut up!" he screamed in the Master's face. The Master flinched; he hadn't been expecting the Doctor to reply out loud. Martha took a step back, and the Doctor sent a mind blow into the Master's head, laced with hatred.

/You'll have to do better than that, Doctor. I can barely feel it over these drums/

"Out," the Doctor said out loud to the Master, pushing him out of the TARDIS whilst blocking his mind from further comments. The Master waited outside. Martha turned to the Doctor.

"I can't understand how you can bare to be near him? He's evil!"

"He's a Time Lord. We're not born evil. We're made evil."

"I don't care how he became how he is. It's irrelevant."

"On the contrary. If someone can be made evil, then that evil can be unmade. Think of it as teaching a small child. So far we're at the finger painting stage, but one day, he'll create a masterpiece." Martha decided to humour the Doctor.

"Alright. But he's not at the finger painting stage quite yet. He's still staring at the blank piece of paper wondering what on earth you expect from him."

"I knew you'd understand." And he hugged her.

"I'm still here, you know, thanks to this cursed bond," the Master called. "And I just thought you ought to know: this isn't New Earth."
The Doctor pushed Martha aside and rushed outside.