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were_lemurLate post; I was internet-challenged last night. Doctor Who, female!Doctor/female!Master, all ages, not mine. A Doctor walks into a bar, and meets a very different Master.
She sat at the bar, smoking a long-handled cigarette. She had hair the color of a black hole's heart, and eyes like glacial ice.
The Doctor wasn't fooled; she'd recognize the Master anywhere or anywhen, even if he was also a she. (And she didn't want to think about the implications of them both having female regenerations at the same time.)
The Master looked over, gaze drawn like iron filings to a magnet. She stood, and the Doctor couldn't help noticing her long legs, the fit of her black dress.
She found herself smiling. It was time to dance again.
She sat at the bar, smoking a long-handled cigarette. She had hair the color of a black hole's heart, and eyes like glacial ice.
The Doctor wasn't fooled; she'd recognize the Master anywhere or anywhen, even if he was also a she. (And she didn't want to think about the implications of them both having female regenerations at the same time.)
The Master looked over, gaze drawn like iron filings to a magnet. She stood, and the Doctor couldn't help noticing her long legs, the fit of her black dress.
She found herself smiling. It was time to dance again.
