Started this soooo long ago, thought I'd finish it up...

Note: This is a WHAT-IF as in What If Shaun Temple had never existed? I mean...he's just sort of in the way really, just standing there shouting "I'M IN UR FANDOM KILLING YOUR OTP's"

Although, that's not fair of me. I pretty much pair Donna with everybody.

Heck, everybody with everybody.

MAKE LOVE NOT SENSE.

Reviews are very much adored. As usual, of course, if you have cake then you may be exempt from reviewing.

The two pairs of eyes met evenly. One man held himself with ease and thoughtfulness; the other, eager for redemption but made meek by his trespasses, swallowed anxiously. The tension between them was boiling the air, until finally the Doctor looked away.

"Can I trust you?" he asked slowly. "Can I trust you…with the most important thing in my life?"

"I'm not the man I was." The Master cast his gaze to the floor, and the green glow of the TARDIS played across his new face. Dark hair fell untidily in his eyes, but he pushed it away and it seemed to obey his will, falling back out of his face; the Doctor couldn't help but feel a stab of compassion at this seemingly simple gesture. He was done with having fun at the expense of others—in some way, it was as though after all these years and all these battles he had left his rebellious teenage ideals in the dust behind him and become a man. "I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. The drums are gone, Doctor, but there's still a hole…and I think I know how I have to fill it."

"Nothing heals overnight," the Doctor advised. "No wound is shallow enough for that, and your wounds…it won't be easy, for either of you."

"I know."

The Doctor appraised this man carefully. "I wish it was my decision alone…I believe I could trust you. But there's still one man who needs to give his approval." The Master looked back up at him, and couldn't mask a smile of glee. "I don't suppose it will be too difficult."

The Master had been the Doctor's guest for two weeks. While the Doctor struggled to maintain his face, the Master accepted his new form as a phoenix would cast off old, dying plumage and rise again with fiery life. Most of his time was occupied with technical work on the TARDIS—the Doctor discovered he had a gift with the girl—but there was one device he seemed furiously determined to improve. At first he attempted—rather pathetically—to pretend he worked on all parts of the ship equally, but finally he admitted his intention to the Doctor—it surprised him, but while it was admirable, the Doctor ordered him to leave the chameleon circuit alone.

How could he ask for his beautiful ship to look like anything else?

They scrambled out of the TARDIS—the Doctor almost limping along, gritting his teeth and swallowing down the regeneration energy always threatening to overcome him, while the Master was light on his feet and giddy as a schoolboy. A stern glance from the Doctor straightened him a little, but he still wore a mischievous smile, one that the Doctor couldn't help smiling along with.

He knocked—three times, the Doctor noticed ironically—and the door swung open to reveal the face of Sylvia Noble—who promptly tried to close it again.

"No—Sylvia—" The Doctor reached forwards, and the Master stuck his foot in the door. Together they stopped her, and she scowled up at them.

"I'd hoped all this nonsense was behind us!" she exclaimed at the Doctor. "I don't know who this man is, but if he's with you—"

"Then we've got every reason to trust him." The Doctor and Wilfred greeted one another as old friends and kindred spirits, with a quick embrace and smiles. "Donna's at work—what is it, Doctor?"

"We should probably sit down," the Master interjected quickly. Sylvia crinkled her nose, but followed the three men to the living room, where they sat down, staring at one another carefully.

"Wilfred, Sylvia," the Doctor said slowly. "I sat here with you before, and I left with you someone who needed help. Someone more important to me than all the stars in all the skies of the universe. Now—I have to know that you trust me."

Sylvia scoffed, but Wilf nodded quickly. "Of course, Doctor, what do you need?"

The Doctor swallowed. "Wilf, this is the Master," he said lowly.

Sylvia and Wilf furrowed their brows before looking from the Doctor to the Master in surprise, then horror.

"Doctor—"

"Bringing that monster into my house—"

"Wait, wait!" The Doctor raised his hands, looking over to the Master with concern; the man didn't seem too disturbed by the well-deserved reaction. "Please, you two, hold on a moment. Wilfred, you saw the Master save my life, didn't you?"

Wilf opened his mouth; closed it; then, thoughtfully, he nodded. "Yes—he attacked that Time Lord man who was about to attack you."

The Doctor nodded, glancing at the Master pointedly. The other Time Lord took the hint.

"I regenerated," he said softly. "I managed to save myself an inch from death, and regenerated—the drums are gone, I can think again, really think. I can see what I've done, and I can grieve for it all, but more than that, I can find redemption. I have nowhere in the universe that can hold my guilt and my shame, but…the Doctor tells me of a lonely, beautiful woman who needs to feel the starlight again."

Sylvia stiffened, gritting her teeth. "I won't have it," she growled. "I demand that you both leave at once—"

"Now, dear, wait one moment—"

"I will not have it," Sylvia repeated.

"I will," Wilf replied sternly. Sylvia cocked an eyebrow at him, but he held his ground. "Master, you are right, Donna needs to feel the starlight again. She'd been tired and sad, all the time, since you left her here, Doctor. But how can you do it without burning her up?"

"I've become human," he replied; they appeared sufficiently surprised at that. "I've worked on the Doctor's chameleon arch—a device that can change DNA—and I've modified it so that I may retain my memories while I live as a human. I don't want to forget—it's Hell, but I want to be a better man for it, not pretend it never happened."

Suddenly, before anyone could speak, the door opened and Donna entered.

"Well, looks like we all decide to have a party while I'm out," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and flipping her phone shut as though she'd just hung up. "Oh—John Smith, right? Don't forget a face, me—and hello." She met the Master's gaze, raising her eyebrows in approval as she extended a hand. "Donna, Donna Noble."

"Harry." The Master accepted her hand, getting to his feet with a wide smile. "Saxon, Harry Saxon. Not—obviously, I mean—"

"That Prime Minister?" Donna smiled, shrugging. "Didn't vote for him—he got impeached, right?"

The Master laughed gently. "Something like that, yeah."

"Th—Mr. Saxon was just leaving." Sylvia said quickly; the Doctor grimaced, but the Master continued to smile.

"We were, yeah," he said.

"Oh, don't you pop off just yet," Donna exclaimed. "Has Mum even had the tea on for you? I'll get it now!"

"Oh, how I wish I could stay for spot of tea." The Master took her hand in both of his, taking a step towards her. "I've got no doubt you make excellent tea. I've got urgent business, but…give us an hour, I guarantee I'll be back to have that tea."

"Oh, likely," Donna snorted. "You sit yourself down, Mr. Saxon, don't you dare let Mum drive you off so easily!"

Sylvia scowled and the Master glowed. "Well…I suppose I can stay if Mr. Smith will handle everything?"

The Doctor smiled nearly as brightly as the Master. "I certainly can."

"Brilliant." Donna turned, walking back into the kitchen, and the Master looked at the Doctor with a tight smile.

"Wish me luck," he said softly.

"Luck?" The Doctor shook his head. "You don't need luck. Harry Saxon, if I've ever been certain of anything I'm certain of this." He got to his feet, slapping the Master—no, Harry Saxon—gently on the shoulder. "And Wilf, you watch these two. No funny business or you call me straightaway." With a grin he turned to Wilfred, offering him a brisk handshake before stepping into the kitchen.

To say goodbye.

Once again.

"See you, then, Donna," he called across the kitchen. Donna looked up, offered him a little nod, and he stepped on from the house, his hearts swelling.

He knew he had nothing to worry about.

SOOOO, whaddya think?

I just adore the idea of a GoodGuy!Master.

REVIEWWWWWWW!

Seriously, people. Reviews or cake. Let's not make this difficult here.