hauntingcryptids

This morning, The Doctor’s experimental treat was hot chocolate. It sounds easy enough to make, but The Doctor was somehow able to ruin bread and butter. So, you were still wary about the marshmallow-topped mug before you.

“So, who’s game?” Graham asked when The Doctor stepped out of the kitchen to deal with something in the console room. 

You and your friends had gotten into the habit of having one person try The Doctor’s Sunday experiment first and the rest of the group would gauge their friend’s reactions before joining in or excusing themselves. Surprisingly, The Doctor hadn’t caught on or she was just happy that her Fam were still entertaining her Sunday surprises.

“If I remember correctly, it’s Y/n’s turn to go first.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

“It doesn’t look that bad.” Dan said optimistically as he inspected the beverage.

“How many times do I have to tell you never to trust The Doctor’s culinary skills, Dan?” Yaz retorted. 

“It’s just hot chocolate.” Dan, the newest member of Team TARDIS, naively said.

“Rookie mindset.” Yaz said in a sing-songy voice, causing a couple of chuckles to echo around the table.

“You clearly weren’t here for the great Pop Rocks debacle, mate.” Graham joked. Some of the group laughed, but others groaned in pain at the mention of that memory. You saw Ryan absentmindedly scratch at the scar on his neck from The Doctor’s literal interpretation of Pop Rocks.

“But this time it might be good.” Yaz still hadn’t broken Dan’s persistent optimism.

“Are we forgetting that it’s Y/n’s turn?” Ryan spoke up again.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll bite the bullet.” You relented but sent Ryan a quick glare.

You lifted the cooling cup up from the table for a moment, but when you inspected the marshmallowy top you placed the mug back down. You sighed heavily. Then you quickly took a sip, after hyping yourself up, then swallowed the drink as fast as you could without tasting it. You leaned back in your chair, shocked, because the aftertaste was good. It was a mix of dark and milk chocolate with sweet marshmallow, and there were hints of nutmeg. Curiously and cautiously, you took another sip, to the astonished looks of all your friends. This time you savoured the flavour. It was even better than your first impressions of the drink.

“Wait, this is good.”

“Are you trying to trick us?” Graham couldn’t help but ask. 

“No. This is amazing!” 

Dan was the first to try the drink, he was always the optimist and had no reason to completely distrust The Doctor’s creation like the rest of The Fam did. When Dan didn’t react negatively, Graham tried the beverage. He gave a surprised hum of approval before going into a second sip. Ryan was the penultimate taster after hyping himself up first. 

Yaz was the last to try the hot chocolate. She was the one who had the worst experiences with The Doctor’s previous creations, so it was understandable to The Fam that she would be apprehensive. No one aboard The TARDIS were big pranksters, and no one would devise a prank involving something that could poison another, even if the type of poisoning was food poisoning. Yaz stared back at every one of her friends staring at her, waiting. Finally, she chugged a good portion of the drink. She expected it to be horrible, but to her genuine surprise, the drink was good.

“You weren’t lying.”

“No!” You and your friends shouted at Yaz before all of you burst out laughing. This was such a rare, unusual occurrence in a sea of rare and unusual moments, but at least this moment didn’t result in an injury or a fallout between allies. It was just a fun day between friends and a surprisingly delicious mug of hot chocolate.

“Why do you all look like you just saw a paagnee in a honeywell?” The Doctor asked, returning to the kitchen. You and the rest of The Fam were instantly confused by the alien’s comparison.

“A what?” Ryan asked.

“Never mind, it’s nothing.” The Doctor brushed off her comment. She could explain it better in the presence of a paagnee in a honeywell.

“Doctor, this drink is so good!” You complimented the beverage when The Doctor rounded the kitchen table to stand by where you were sat.

“Thank you, Y/n. I was inspired to make some hot chocolate after you said that you wanted some now that it was autumn on Earth.”

“That’s really sweet of you,  Doc. You didn’t need to do this for me, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I did. It needed to be brilliant for you.”

“How long did this take you?” You questioned. 

“I’ll never tell.” The Doctor held a finger to her lips to emphasise her statement.

“Because I will feel guilty?” You provided an answer for the alien.

“Yes, but it’s more -” The Doctor was cut off by Dan, whose chair skidded across the floor of the kitchen as he got up from his seat to refill his mug. The Doctor was annoyed but it might have been for the best, as she was going to say that ‘it was more romantic’ having her effort be a mystery if she wasn’t interrupted.

“How is this good?” Ryan questioned, curiously savouring his drink.

“It’s because it’s sugary.” Yaz retorted.

“No, there have been bad sugary things.” Graham corrected.

“How can you mess up something sugary?” Dan asked.

“You’d be surprised.” Yaz huffed.

“Are you sure you made this? It wasn’t The TARDIS?” Graham finally questioned The Doctor, interrupting the rest of The Fam’s bickering.

“The TARDIS did not make anything. She didn’t even help.”

“At all?” Graham continued.

“I can make good things!”

“Of course you can, Doctor.” You rubbed The Doctor’s back in an attempt to comfort her. The Doctor leaned into your seated frame but held up a finger to you in protest.

“Okay, now I feel like you are patronising me.” 

He adored your praise of him, though, because The Doctor believed The Master to be incapable of any kind of thought and he loved proving the idiocy of his previous friend. But The Master did hate being compared to Humans and for anyone other than The Doctor to know this other side of his personality. The Master couldn’t help but hate you at first when you would occasionally run into him when he was pretending to be Human. After The Doctor ruined his plans again, The Master did take a chance on you. He hoped to manipulate you, though you ended up charming your way into the old Timelord’s hearts. He abandoned all of his plans to corrupt you (except for a little teasing) and strove to prove himself worthy of your kindness.

Since moving into The Master’s TARDIS, you became acutely aware of the divots and dividends stowed away and hidden behind many facades and trick mirrors in your alien companion’s personality. Despite the fruitfulness of his personality that he hid well, The Master still had to be convinced of very many things, especially the things that he did not think up himself. He was a proud being, inside and out. After much trial and error, you did learn how to craft manipulations of your own. By begging (prettily, as he described) or convincing The Master that he came up with an idea before you did, then you usually could end up getting want you wanted within the week. Your quickest attempt took 13 Earth days, which given how stubborn The Master could be at times, you took as a win. All you could do was hope that you wouldn’t have to fully manipulate your way into getting what you wanted this time. In your opinion, you had just a small request. At most, it would only take a small amount of begging, surely.

You bounced into the console room with a light step. This wasn’t the first time you attempted to convince The Master of something very Human in nature and you expected that it wouldn’t be the last. The Master had also been in a jovial mood recently, having plundered multiple pirates, squashed many rebellions on planets that he (previously to you joining him) ruled, and solved many childhood treasure hunts ‘in all time and space’ that the old scholars of Gallifrey placed on their students, expecting that they would never be solved. His cheerful nature resulted in less worry for you compared to some of the previous attempts where you ambushed The Master with questions on one of his bad days. But for the completion of your plan and The Master’s emotions, you did try to make yourself seem more carefree and unbothered. Based on previous attempts, you know that if you were too passionate or persistent there was the very probable chance that The Master would deny your request out of spite, which was contrary to the outcome that you wished to receive.

The Master didn’t look up from the console screen he was monitoring as you rounded the ship’s terminal. You had become used to the fact that he was usually aware of your presence, even though he wouldn’t interact with you first. So, you stood behind the alien and watched the screen he studied, unable to understand the potential seriousness of what your host was looking at. Tentatively, you placed your chin on The Master’s shoulder, allowing him the opportunity to initiate the conversation when he was ready.

“What do you want, Human?”

“What makes you think that I want anything?” The Master didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. All he did was turn his face in your direction with a blank stare and a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, I do want to ask you something.”

“What is it this time?” You huffed, slightly affronted that he would think you to be so superficial. But your reaction only caused The Master to chuckle. You paused for a moment before asking your question in an attempt to regain your composure in the presence of a nearly all powerful alien. 

“Can we get some pumpkins?” You asked the alien hopefully, bouncing on the soles of your feet absentmindedly. 

“Why?” The Master dragged out the word, which gave you hope. When The Master drew out all the syllables of a short (typically one-word) question, it usually meant that he was legitimately questioning your desires. If he were to answer with a curt “why” or a fully articulate question, however, you learned that those options were basically a “no” as far as the alien was concerned.

“It’s Autumn. Halloween is coming up soon. They are nice decorations.” 

“No.” The Master spoke coldly. You couldn’t help but be shocked. You thought that you did everything correctly, or as well as you could given The Master’s sometimes (often) temporental tastes. 

“What? Why?” You pulled back from The Master’s shoulder and tried to look him in the eye, but he wouldn’t face you. 

“They go off. I don’t want mouldy squash in my ship.” The Master’s tone was reasonable, at least, as he moved around The TARDIS console to press more buttons.

“I will compost them or throw them away before they get like that.” You tried to your best to plead with The Master, but for some reason, you weren’t doing your best. 

“And if one gets lost in this labyrinth of a ship?” The Master’s head shot up to look you in the eye, and then he froze, waiting for your answer. His hazel eyes were piercing. 

“I won’t lose any of them.” You tried to sound convincing, but The Master’s faux sympathetic grin told you that you had not convinced the alien.

“My answer is still no.”

“Please. I’m not asking for 13-foot-tall skeletons or glitter garlands.” The Master couldn’t help but make a face at the thought of the presence of glitter in his TARDIS.

“It’s just a handful of pumpkins, Master.” Your alien host turned to face you again, this time with a triumphant smirk on his face. You hated that you knew that you lost this time.

“You need to work on your begging, Human.” You groaned, petulantly and stormed off back to your room for the day.

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Many days passed with many stops periodically throughout time and space. Some were casual pitstops, others were more serious, but The Master hoped that the more places he took you, then the less focused you would be on your request to decorate his TARDIS. Every time he thought that you had forgotten your want or moved on from your pumpkin idea, you would not so subtly indicate that you still wanted to decorate The Master’s TARDIS with pumpkins. It didn’t help that his ship was conspiring against him and took you and The Master to many planets with pumpkin-like plants blooming and growing throughout.

During one outing, you had almost snuck a small gourd (or what you would call a gourd) onto The TARDIS through your bigger on the inside coat pocket. But The Master saw your sleight of hand and was aware of the item you stole from the planet. You weren’t aware of The Master’s knowledge, but the alien’s eyes had rarely left your frame as of late. He was always watching you. He wasn’t trying to be creepy (which he probably would been on Earth), he just loved watching you in non-Human environments. 

That was his excuse, though; The Master’s TARDIS, maturely, described The Master’s feelings as love. He loved your little quirks and the idiosyncrasies that made you you. Yes, you were Human, but if The Doctor used Humans as temporary comfort, then why couldn’t The Master find a constant companion in a Human? It was unlikely that you would ever be able to deceive The Master ever again because The Maser knew you; you consumed every fibre of his mind and soul. The TARDIS, self-satisfied in their accomplishment, knew that there was no turning back now. They helped you and The Master fully realise your feelings for each other.

The Master, upon the two of you arriving at the door of his ship, pulled you by your arm out of The TARDIS doorway before your foot could fall on the ship’s metallic floor. He held his other hand flat outward toward you as he stared down at you unblinking. You couldn’t help but pout; you assumed that you had gotten away with your theft. You sighed as you placed the alien gourd onto his palm.

“Nice try, Human.” The Master smirked, releasing your arm and allowing you to enter his ship. He then tossed the gourd over his shoulder before nonchalantly entering his ship. The Master then piloted the two of you away from the planet you had visited, while telepathically scolding his TARDIS for trying to aid you Humanly sympathetic. 

“I’m going to bed.” You spoke. Your voice sounded sad; The Master noted. He hated when you sounded sad, especially when he was the main cause of your depleted emotions.

“Fine. Dream your sweet pumpkin dreams, Human.” The Master tried to joke. It was evident that the alien failed to make you laugh, though, much to his disappointment.

“I really hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.” The Master did feel your legitimately strong negative feelings toward him, but he chose to not dwell on the fact that he upset you for too long. Instead, he focused on attempting to form a plan to make you happier. He genuinely wanted to make you happy. If you temporarily felt defeated, he could handle your bad temper because he knew that he had so much more planned for you.

You stuck out your tongue petulantly. The Master responded with the same gesture before smirking again and wishing you a proper goodnight.

The Master hated seeing you unhappy. Normally, with others, The Master would keep refusing a person who wanted something badly enough to repeatedly ask, just to upset them more. With you, though, this routine was getting boring. A couple of denials were fine, it offered suspense, but he never wanted to treat you like just any other person. You were special.

Now The Master would have to plan something that would surprise you, something that would make up for his bad attitude. But he didn’t want pumpkins, squash, or gourds, Human or otherwise, on his ship except for the kitchen. He wasn’t even fond of having houseplants on his ship: which reminded The Master of something.

The Master recalled when he first invited you to stay with him on The TARDIS. However, upon hearing you say something, he almost told you to stay at your Earthly apartment last minute. You had surprised him by exclaiming that you needed to retrieve your bonsai tree. You had run off to retrieve the bonsai tree before The Master could stop you, having been weighed down by your many travelling bags. You surprised the alien again, though, when you arrived by his side with a Lego bonsai tree, not a real one, in your hands. The Master only sighed at the time, allowing the plastic tree into his ship without notifying you of his initial complaint.

That previous instance caused a ball to roll in his mind. You never directly said that you wanted real pumpkins. There had to be alternatives that wouldn’t decay and stink up his ship that would also make your wish reality. So The Master set to work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up despondently. Why did The Master have to be so fickle? You understood that The TARDIS was his ship, and he could allow or not allow whatever he wanted. But you didn’t understand why you couldn’t add some personal touches outside of your room. You weren’t even asking for decorative changes all the time, just around certain holidays that you liked to celebrate. If you were on Earth, and The Master was staying with you in your flat, you knew that you would allow him to add his own flair to communal areas. Did you just care about him more than he cared about you? Or was this just a simple miscommunication? No matter what was going on between the two of you, you were still upset with the alien.

You rolled out of your bed, yawned, stretched, and then rubbed the granules of sleep out of your eyes as you stumbled toward your private kitchen. You moved around the space on autopilot, unaware of the new decorations that appeared in your space overnight. You weren’t ripped out of your oblivious state until The TARDIS beeped frantically. 

You held a large mug in one hand, about to pour in your favourite hot, caffeinated beverage when she halted your actions. You questioned her, and she beeped again. She sounded astonished. You looked down into your mug and to your surprise you saw a small felt pumpkin. You placed everything in your hands onto your kitchen counter and plucked the pumpkin out of the mug. It was a cartoonish orange with delicate felt leaves attached to a dark green stub of a stem. The little item was so cute that you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. Finally, you looked around and saw that your room had been decorated with a variety of fake pumpkins. You understood why The TARDIS was so shocked. You walked all the way to your kitchen without noticing any changes whatsoever.

You excitedly ran out of your room, still holding the first pumpkin, and grew even more exuberant the more that you saw. In your sleep, The Master fully decorated his TARDIS with creative pumpkins. There were fake pumpkins of every colour, cloth jack-o-lanterns, and pumpkins decorated with famous artworks and interesting Halloween-themed designs. There were even pumpkin garlands hanging throughout the halls and on the walls. None of them were real pumpkins, there was no worry of them going bad. The Master even made sure that there wasn’t a hint of glitter on any of the decorations. 

You then began to search for The Master. You wanted to thank him for everything he did and all of the work he put into this. Eventually, you found him lounging in the library. He was reading on a sofa with his back facing yours, the stem of a pumpkin pillow only slightly visible over the back of the sofa. You ran up to The Master, as quietly as you could, and threw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Don’t mention it.” You hummed, disappointed, as you removed yourself from The Master. You were hoping for a different, more reciprocating, response. Maybe you weren’t as expressive and grateful as you could be. You wished that there was a way for you to meaningfully thank him. You squeezed The Master’s shoulders before rounding the sofa to sit across from the alien. The Master didn’t look up from his book. You looked away from the strange person before you, instead inspecting the decorations in the library from your seat. You smiled again at the decorations. Not because of the decorations themselves, but because The Master did all of this for you. 

“It looks really nice.” 

“It pains me to admit it, but yes, it’s nice.” The Master was staring at you when he spoke. He was watching you as soon as you looked away. He didn’t care about the pumpkins. They were a nice addition, for a short period of time, but he couldn’t care less if they were there or not. He was just happy that you were happy. You were still observing the new additions to your environment, but if you were looking at The Master you might have seen his mask slip. You might have seen his true feelings for you, if only for a second. If only you were looking at him.

“Maybe you should keep them even after the passing of the season?” You asked hopefully. 

“Just because you got your pumpkins, that doesn’t mean you are going to get everything you want around here, Human.”

“I’m not trying to get my way -” You turned to face The Master in an attempt to defend yourself.

“Sure you aren’t.”

“It just looks nice. It fits this space. And they won’t go off, so you don’t have to worry about mould.”

“No. I’m a renegade Time Lord, not a comic book villain.” The Master said coldly as he gracefully stood from the sofa to retrieve another book.

“Just one?” The Master sighed lightheartedly at your persistence. Is this how other people felt around him when he was dead set on something? 

“Your room is your room. Do what you want with it.” You congratulated yourself on the new victory, unaware that The Master could see you out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but smile but he quickly covered it up with a smirk. He didn’t know how to directly tell you his feelings, he didn’t feel confident enough in his ability to communicate how he felt. At least The Master could still flirt in his own way, though; by teasing you and riling you up and surprising you with gifts.

“But I won’t make any promises to not throw all these pumpkins into a supernova as soon as the first of December occurs in your year on Earth.” 

Today was the anniversary of when the newly regenerated Doctor informed you of the tragic news that Missy had died. The sentimentalist in you needed to mourn today, however, your plans to celebrate Missy’s memory added to your anxiety. You needed to honour Missy for yourself, but what if there was someone out there in your town, or the world, or the universe trying to get you? Today would be the perfect opportunity for an enemy to hurt you when you were already emotional and susceptible. 

Eventually, though, you did convince yourself to leave your apartment. Today was for Missy, after all, not you. When the date caught your attention a couple of weeks ago, the first step of your plan was to go to Missy’s old Human job from when you first met. You would be torturing yourself by doing this, but you needed to purchase two bouquets of flowers. After purchasing your mournful bounty, you would walk to the nearest cemetery. Then, at the cemetery, you would leave one bouquet in remembrance of your beloved Master while taking the other bouquet home with you to memorialise Missy there as well. You even considered preserving it so you could have an idol of memories for longer.

Looking back on your history with The Master, it was probably an incredibly bleak omen for your relationship with her, but during Missy’s lunch breaks and on your travels home from work, the two of you would stride through the little parklike cemetery just around the corner from the shopping centre. Both of you would always be incredibly surprised by how beautiful the cemetery was; there was an assortment of trees that would offer ample shade to the gravestones and there was a winding cobblestone path fenced by flowers throughout. There was also a tall, cleanly cut hedge that bordered the whole property, alongside the iron gates delicately surrounding the cemetery. 

Missy genuinely loved that little cemetery. Before you knew that she was an alien, she would often say that this cemetery was the most beautiful thing on Earth, other than you. You always asked her how she could possibly know every place on the planet, to which she would only wink at you teasingly. After discovering her true nature, her statement made more sense but you still wondered why this cemetery was so special to Missy. She could travel anywhere she wished, in all time and space. It never failed to shock you that The Master, the infamous rogue Gallifreyian, would treasure such a simple place. So where else you would go to mournfully celebrate her beautifully chaotic life? In your mind, there was no other option.

When you walked toward the small town shopping centre where Missy cemented her Human facade, you wrapped your coat tighter around your torso. You were cold, yes, but you needed something to hold onto to brave all of the resurfacing memories. You sighed deeply when you entered the shop and then briskly moved to the shop's mediocre selection of flowers without looking up from your feet. 

The flower options and pre-arranged bouquets always looked more expensive and put together, even well into the winter, when Missy was working here. All of the bouquets she gave you were of the best quality. 

“Never less than the best for you, my love,” Missy would always respond with this line when you complained that you didn’t need anything fancy.

Missy might have lied about buying flowers from this little shop, now that you thought about it. But you would rather choose to believe that Missy manipulated her “superiors” into buying and displaying more expensive bouquets and flowers to enhance the reputation of the place rather than her lying to you.

“Excuse me?” A voice sounded to your side, tearing you away from your thoughts of Missy. You turned sharply to the person trying to get your attention. He was a man a couple of inches taller than Missy with mesmerising dark amber, mixed with coffee and chocolate, eyes that were filled with care. He was wearing a button-down, slacks, and a heavy-looking deep purple coat, which seemed a bit out of place given the weather hadn’t turned properly cold yet. Maybe the man just ran cold?

“I think you dropped this.” The man held out a case of lipstick, intending to return it to you. You were shocked, still disoriented from being ripped out of your thoughts. You accepted the lipstick with a curt ‘thank you’, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through you when your hand accidentally brushed against the stranger’s fingers.

You immediately turned back to the display of bouquets before you, gripping the case of lipstick tightly in your hand. You had assumed that the man had left to either look around the shop or to leave, but to your horror, he continued to stand beside you. He returned your item. So, why hadn't he left yet? You just wanted him to leave your side. You didn’t want to interact with anyone more than you had to today. Today was too horrible for you to pretend to be friendly with strangers. 

“Looking for anything specific?” The man asked after an agonising silence from the two of you just standing side by side in front of the flower display. He didn’t sound creepy like many people, usually men, sounded in situations like this, making you believe that he was actually curious. Even if he had good intentions, that didn’t dissolve your desire to be left alone, but you tried to be as nice as you could today.

“Something respectful. Not gaudy or obnoxiously and obviously meant to be gifted as an attempt to woo a Tinder match on a first date.”

“So like, cemetery flowers?” You whipped your head back to look at the stranger because of that question. Could he see your plan on your face or in your posture?  How could he tell what your intentions were? The stranger shrugged his shoulders, almost as if he heard your thoughts. 

“Yes, cemetery flowers.”

“These are quite smart. Whoever you are planning on visiting would love to have these on their grave.” The man plucked a bouquet wrapped in dark red wrapping from the shelf. The bouquet consisted primarily of fresh crimson roses and red salvia, with sprigs of baby’s breath and forget-me-nots to round out the assortment. When they were in shadow, the roses practically looked like dried blood, which thanks to Missy you knew what that looked like a bit too well. 

You paused, sucked in a breath, shocked by the man’s forward nature. Then you quickly grabbed the flowers, shoved the lipstick into your coat pocket and moved to purchase the bouquet without another word being given to the stranger. You hoped that the man would have left the store by the time you had finished purchasing the flowers, however, he stopped you once again by the exit of the shop.

“I hope you have a good time at the cemetery.” He said, smiling, as if this was an everyday occurrence, but, like before, you didn’t respond. You rushed out of the shop so overcome with a torrent of emotions. You just needed to get out of there. You didn’t even realise until you were far away from the shops and the stranger that you failed to choose a second bouquet for yourself. You hoped that the second bouquet would be one similar to the ones Missy would gift to you, but because of that strange man part of your plan for the day was ruined. You would have to go back to the shops tomorrow.

Eventually, you slowed to a meditative walking pace on your way to the cemetery. After many deep breaths, you managed to decrease and steady your erratic breath and rapid heart rate. You tried to forget your interaction with the stranger and just refocus your mind on Missy: the good, the bad, the happy and the sad, all of your time with her. You just wanted to be surrounded by the memory of your lover, in general, but also to remember her existence in the most reverent way possible. Even though the weight of her memory was a heavy burden to carry, you had to do this for her.

Halfway to the cemetery, the moon emerged from its hiding spot behind a cloud. It was still light out, but the full specialness of the day became apparent to you. The orangy-red hue of the night’s Hunter’s Moon was soft but you imagined that it would darken and grow deeper in tone the longer it hung in the evening air into the night. Apparently, even your solar system wanted to help you mourn the loss of Missy. 

Along with cemeteries, Missy loved abnormal moons. She would always drag you out of your apartment or plead with you to retrieve her from The Vault in a basement at St. Luke’s University so the two of you could go stargazing, or moongazing as it were. She loved Hunter’s Moons in particular, both because of the season they appeared in, but also because of the eerie atmosphere. 

You finally entered the cemetery through the tall and squeaky black gates that enclosed the cemetery just as it was beginning to grow dark outside. After walking along the pathway for a few minutes, you saw the familiar bench where you and Missy would always sit. 

Once you took a seat on the bench, you looked around the large, enclosed, cemetery. It had been a little over a year since you had been here last and you realised how much you missed this place. It truly was beautiful, in the gloomy and bittersweet way that many cemeteries were, but beautiful nonetheless. 

You wished that you could have something tangible to remember Missy’s death and life. A trinket or object of Missy’s that would now be yours. Like all of the families that had loved ones buried in this place, they had something more tangible than you did. You wanted what they had. Even though death is never easy, their situations were easier to comprehend than yours. Missy died on a spaceship in the future galaxies away from Earth. You had nothing left of her and it felt as if nothing ever happened because of it. 

Suddenly, you remembered the lipstick that the stranger had returned to you. You removed it from the pocket you had hidden it in in the rush of everything. You stared at the lipstick, curiously. The item definitely wasn’t yours. It looked like the one Missy would always use. But how could the stranger have this? Was Missy’s lipstick in your coat pocket this entire time? That didn’t make sense. You had worn this coat before and the lipstick wasn’t in any of the pockets. Not to mention the fact that Missy never went anywhere without her lipstick. It was unlikely that she would ever ask you to carry it for her.

You stared at the lipstick in your palm and reminisced about a random night when Missy was trapped on Earth. It was the night of a Hunter’s Moon, just like the one you sat under tonight. The Doctor graciously allowed Missy to leave The Vault for a night so the two of you could celebrate your anniversary.

The two of you went to a fancy restaurant that was far too expensive for you, but Missy took care of the bill as it was meaningless. Given her motto, any expense might have been excusable to The Master if you were the one asking for or needing something. After your meal, you somehow convinced Missy to go to a club. You bribed her by stating that she had never been to a Human club before. So why not go to one with you? Finally, the two of you drunkenly stumbled through your favourite cemetery under the light of the blood-orange moon while sharing a bottle of Asgardian mead that Missy had apparently stolen from the halls of Valhalla. At the time, you didn’t know whether or not to believe her because of how drunk she was, she easily could have been exaggerating. You later asked The Doctor about her story and to your delight, and The Doctor’s embarrassment, the story was real and unembellished. 

You and Missy had briefly stopped at the bench you were now sitting on. You probably wouldn’t have recognised the bench after your drunken night out except for the fact that Missy carved your and her names onto the arm of the bench. Your names were intertwined in typical Gallifreyian marriage writing, where the names are entwined together to signify the bond between those in the relationship. 

Despite the momentary rest, you had to beg Missy to return to The Vault that day because you were cold and your feet hurt. Missy never wanted that night to end but you promised to cuddle her for at least two hours before leaving for your apartment. You wished that you could stay, but The Doctor hadn’t allowed you to stay the night in The Vault. 

After much convincing, your stubborn alien lover eventually agreed to your deal. Before leaving the cemetery though, Missy reapplied her lipstick and then kissed you all over your face and neck. You had to return Missy to The Vault in that state, much to The Doctor’s disgust. It was a great memory and a great day that you wished you could replicate with Missy. It saddened you to no end that you would never be able to do that, though. The Master was dead. 

“May I sit here?” The voice of a man broke you out of your haze. No, not any man, the man. The stranger from the little shop that Missy used to work at was standing beside the empty seat on the bench.

“Did you follow me?” You shot back, angrier than you intended because he tore you away from Missy again. But this was all just too strange to not be angry about.

“Would a normal person follow a stranger into a cemetery?” 

“No, but whoever said that you were a normal person?”

“What’s the fun in being normal?” The man crossed his arms with a smirk. You turned away in order to hide your slight smile. He was fun, you had to give him that, even though it upset you to admit this.

“People might trust you more.” You said after you regained your composure. 

“The only person I want to trust me is you.” Again, you were shocked by the man and his forwardness, which appeared to be becoming a regular occurrence.

“Are you chatting me up in a cemetery?” 

“Is it working?” The man’s smirk grew confidently and part of you just couldn’t resist his smile. You sighed defeatedly. You scooted over a bit on the bench to be closer to the carved arm and to allow enough space for the stranger to sit comfortably. You looked up to the moon as the man sat down. The Hunter’s Moon was now a deep orange with tones of red around the edges. There was another strange silence haunting the air between the two of you, until the man ruined it. You were starting to become used to this stranger’s habit of randomly breaking silences.

“Are you here for someone?” He sounded kinder, softer, than he did what asking you questions at the shop.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s because you’re interesting.” The man bumped your shoulder with his. You hummed sceptically. This man, though intriguing, was like no person you ever met. He didn’t seem to care about social norms or what society deemed to be acceptable. Who else would flirt in a cemetery? Well, Missy would, but she was an alien. 

“I’m kind of here for someone, yes. Their body isn’t here, but I like coming here, or any other cemetery really, to remember my person. I haven’t been to this cemetery in a while though, memories and all that, but I knew that I needed to be here tonight. What about you?” 

“Yes, I’m here for someone, too.” 

“I’m sorry.” You meant this genuinely. You didn’t know the man beside you and he had a propensity for behaving in an unorthodox manner, but he was still a person. You knew how hard it was to lose someone and you would never want to belittle someone’s grief. You locked eyes with this stranger for the first time since the moment in the little shop and held his gaze. You found it to be bizarre to feel so connected to a stranger but here you were talking to this man about Missy. You barely even talked about her to your best friends.

“There is no need for you to apologise, love. You weren’t the one to rip me away from the person I care about the most.” He bumped your shoulder again. Given the fact that you were facing each other now, you couldn’t take the intensity of being so close to the man. So, you looked away, flustered.

“Wow, I never thought I would have so much in common with a stranger in a cemetery.” You joked. You leaned over the arm of the bench slightly to move away from the man. You didn’t want to disgrace The Master’s memory in any way; it would be best to keep this stranger at a distance. To comfort yourself, you ran your hand over the carving Missy made, trying to commit the pattern to your mind to the best of your ability.

“You never know, you could meet the love of your life anywhere. A little shop, for instance.” The man still sounded positive despite your slightly uncomfortable demeanour. You liked this man, but you were worried that you were disrespecting Missy by even entertaining the idea of seeing someone else. How could you even be with someone else after The Master?

“Yeah, a little shop meet cute …” You traced the carving again absentmindedly while staring at the moon and the clouds passing over it. But the man once again distracted you from your sadness, though it wasn’t because of something he said like the many, many times before. Instead, the stranger pulled out a pocket watch that looked suspiciously too familiar. 

“Where did you get that?” You grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled his hand, and inadvertently him, closer to you in order to inspect the watch. It was old, properly old, not just decorated to look like an antique. It looked identical to The Master’s watch.

“Oh this, I’ve always had it. Since I was a child, an orphan, abandoned, found in the storm.” Missy had told you stories about her past, one of which was when she, he then, had been hiding in a Human form at the end of the Universe. You turned the watch over in the man’s hand and saw the circular Gallifreyian carved into the back of the object. You tentatively ran your finger over the writing, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“This is not possible.” You croaked, still looking at the watch in the man’s steady hand. How could the man beside you have Missy’s watch? Unless they survived. Unless she regenerated. But The Doctor said they died. She was certain that they died and would not be returning. Could The Master really be alive?

“Y/n, love, anything is possible.” The man whispered in your ear as you felt him move and place his arm around your back. He softly rubbed circles on your back but you didn’t feel it. You felt like your world was spinning and nothing was certain any more.

“It’s not you. It can’t be.” You shook your head. This couldn’t be possible. Your grip on the man’s watch and hand tightened when you finally looked up at him, scared. When you looked into his eyes, that’s when you began crying. He looked so worried for you, but there was hope and love laced into the look he gave you. You shook your head, still not convinced that The Master was really stilling beside you, holding you. But The Master nodded and smiled.

“It’s really me, darling. I swear on lipstick and Asgardian mead. Nothing in this Universe, any Universe, could ever keep me away from you.” The Master wanted to wipe your tears from your face, but before he could you jumped into The Master’s arms and practically knocked him over into the other arm of the bench due to the force of your hug.

“Master, is it really you?” You asked into his shoulder, not able to control the crazy mix of joy and sadness you felt. 

“Of course it’s me, darling. You didn’t really think that I would just leave you on this miserable planet alone, did you?” The Master caressed the back of your head and every so often placed a kiss on the side of your face. 

“But how? The Doctor said -” You shoved yourself away from The Master wanting a clear answer, but he cut off your excited questioning.

“The Doctor is often wrong, especially about me.” The Master smiled and winked at you triumphantly. You let out an ecstatic noise that you had never made before in your life and hurled yourself into The Master for another bruising hug.

“Can we go home now?” You mumbled into The Master’s purple coat.

“We?” The Master asked hesitantly.

“Yes, why not we?” You pulled back from The Master again with a worried look written on your face. You couldn’t help but be a bit worried after everything. The Master had just returned to you, you didn’t want to lose him again so soon.

“You aren’t bothered by my new form?” The Master questioned while gesturing to himself.

“No, you’re still The Master. You’re still my Master.” The Master smirked before leaning close to you. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew that I loved you for a reason.”

“I love you so much. And I’ve missed you so much, Master.”

“Well, no more missing me. We are together now and nothing is going to rip me away from you ever again, and you are right, we should go home. It has been far, far, too long.” The Master removed himself from your arms and stood from the bench. He held his hand out for you, wiggling his fingers enthusiastically. You gladly accepted his offer and then proceeded to interlock your fingers.

“Before we get to my TARDIS, I should warn you that the ship looks quite different to how you will remember it.” The Master informed you as the two of you walked down the cobblestone path toward the gates of the cemetery. 

“That’s okay.” You said into The Master’s shoulder as you braced your body against his to withstand the massive gust of wind that blew through the gates of the cemetery. The rest of autumn appeared like it was going to be a cold one.

“Really? You’re comfortable with everything being so different. I thought that you would be having a more difficult time with this.” The Master shed his coat and placed it around your shoulders. 

“Change is easier with you, Master. And I would rather have you in my life in a different form than not in my life at all.” You cuddled into the rouge alien’s coat. He, like his previous regeneration, smelled of smoke and whiskey. Missy also smelled like cranberries, whereas this new regeneration of The Master slightly smelled like cinnamon in combination with the whiskey and smoke.

“My previous regeneration would have made fun of your sentimentality, but this regeneration loves the attention.”

“Good! There is a year’s worth of affection that you missed out on.”

When the two of you reached the door of The TARDIS, which now appeared as a large home rather than Missy’s preferred look of a wardrobe, The Master stopped you and caressed a hand down your face. His eyes, though very different than Missy’s, displayed the same devotion and love for you. Things change, but at the same time, everything stays. The Master was still your Master, just in a different package. And you still loved them, no matter what they looked like.