They drove back to the house and she went to her bedroom, deciding to get a shower. She stripped off her shirt and felt the ache in her shoulder, noticing that it was taped over with a gauze pad. She went and stood in front of the mirror and gently pried it off to get a better look at the wound.

She blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since she had seen an injury on herself that hadn't healed rapidly.

The wound was a bit smaller than her fist and still looked raw, the beginnings of a scab starting to form. The outer edges were bruised a purple and green color. This was going to take more than two week to heal fully. Even she had to admit that.

"Let me clean that and bandage it back up," the Master said from behind her.

"Can't we run the dermal regenerator over it? Help it heal quicker?" she asked, turning to him. Her horror vastly outweighed her embarrassment of facing him topless.

"I have been using the dermal regenerator," he said calmly.

Her eyes widened. "Really? And it still looks like this?"

"If it's any consolation, it looks better than what it did last week."

She turned back to look in the mirror. She had taken her healing powers for granted all these years, never imagining a day where she would encounter something that she couldn't heal from.

"Sit on the bed," he said softly.

She complied and he gently cleaned the wound and placed some salve onto it before patching it up with the gauze pad. He was clinical and methodical, his focus entirely on tending to her wound.

"Take a bath instead and try not to get it wet. I'll get the bags packed."

He stood to leave, but stopped and looked down at her, his eyes swirling with some emotion that she could not name. "I'm glad you're OK, Rose."

She smiled up at him. "Me, too," she whispered.

He smiled back and left, leaving her to get bathed and dressed.

An hour later she came downstairs, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a pale pink top. She shrugged on her leather jacket. In the kitchen she found food waiting for her on the table. It was simple, a Caesar salad and chicken. She hadn't eaten in two weeks and knew her stomach had shrunk. She made some tea and ate silently at the table, wondering idly where the Master was. She cleaned up her dishes and went to look for him. There were two suitcases waiting by the front door. She went up to his room, but he wasn't there. His room was neat and tidy, the bed made and everything in order. The room was dark, from black curtains and bedding, to the furniture of dark wood. There was no doubt that this indeed was his room.

She heard the door open and she went downstairs to find him. She stopped dead in her tracks. He stood before her in his expensive black suit, his bleach blonde hair now brown and styled all business-like. She blinked, not knowing whether she liked this looked. She kind of fancied the blonde hair on him.

"What do you think?" he asked stoically.

"You didn't really take my comment about your hair seriously, did you?" she asked.

"No. Yes. A bit. But the blonde reminded me of when I was absolutely bonkers. It came with a regeneration gone wrong, a regeneration that left me intensely insane."

She came up to him and cupped his cheek. "You're not that man anymore."

His hands came up and rested lightly on her hips. "I came very close, when I thought I had lost you. I would have murdered Luloxia and I would have dragged out her death, made her feel every ounce of pain I was feeling."

"But you stopped. You stopped yourself and that's what matters."

He shook his head slightly. "You stopped me, Rose. You chased away the madness."

It was now her turn to shake her head. "No, Master. No one can make you do something you don't want to do. You stopped because you wanted to."

He smiled crookedly. "You said my name."

She leaned up and kissed him lightly on his soft lips. "Only in private. I'm definitely not going to call you that in public."

"Fair enough," he said, pulling her in closer and kissing her tenderly. "I think we had better get going."

She nodded. She grabbed her handbag and he picked up the suitcases. She wondered what they were going to find in Norway. She was filled with anticipation and trepidation. Did the tear have something to do with the Doctor? Was she hoping it had something to do with the Doctor? As she looked at the Master, it wasn't the Doctor she was envisioning. It was the Master. A man she wanted to have experiences with. A man she wanted to share her life with. He had made her better and she had made him better. Two broken pieces fitting perfectly together to make a whole.

They made their way to the airport and boarded a private Zeppelin. The flight would take ten hours and would be an overnight flight. Their cabin was at the end of the Zeppelin, a massive room with a huge window that looked out over the scenery. The bed was massive, easily fitting six people. There were closets in the room, but she didn't bother to unpack. They would be in Norway by early morning and she didn't want to get up at some ungodly hour to repack suitcases. The sky was turning duskish with the impending night that was to come.

The Master poured a glass of brandy for himself and turned to Rose. He reached into his pocket and produced a white pill. "Take this for the pain. Best not to have any alcohol."

She got a bottle of water out of the bar fridge in their room and swallowed the pill gratefully. The pain had steadily increased with every move and action she had taken and it was getting to the point that she starting to feel weak.

"Let's go have something to eat and then straight to bed for you."

She didn't protest as they made their way to the dining area, the pain having decreased dramatically. It must have been a painkiller that he had made himself. No painkiller that she knew of worked this fast.

They ordered steak with vegetables and roasted potatoes. The good thing about flying privately was that the food was exceptionally better.

She barely finished half of what was on her plate, but the Master looked pleased. She sat back, feeling uncomfortably full and drowsy. Her eyelids felt heavy, the urge to fall asleep weighing heavy on her body. She rested her head against the back of her chair and felt herself being lifted up and carried to their room. She snuggled against his chest, his strong arms holding her close.

He laid her gently on the bed and pulled off her socks and shoes. "Want me to take off the rest of your clothes?" he asked. It should have sounded predatory, but his tone was utterly that of a caring partner.

She couldn't even bother to answer, sleep dragging her under swiftly and effectively.

She awoke slowly, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. She heard the Master murmur in his sleep behind her, and his arm that was flung across her waist pulled her closer. His nose nuzzled in her hair, breathing in her scent and she smiled at how comforting it felt to be spooned by him. She shifted and snuggled in closer to him. Her eyes widened as she realised that all he was wearing were boxer briefs. And she realised that all she was wearing were her panties and a strappy pajama top.

His arm shifted and his hand splayed across her stomach. She felt her breathing quicken as she felt him growing hard behind her, his erection pressing against her bum. His fingers started moving in a slow, sensual dance as he traced patterns on her abdomen. His nose nuzzled against the back of her neck and he placed a kiss there, sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through her body. His fingers continued their slow torture and she gasped as he reached the hemline of her panties. He trailed his fingers along the edge, back and forth, slowly and exotically. He continued kissing along her neck and shoulders, heating up her body wherever he touched or kissed.

He trailed one finger under her hemline. The anticipation was too much and she placed her hand on his. He stilled. She then guided his hand under her panties, letting his fingers dip between her folds, feeling how wet she was. She heard his breathing quicken and then he rubbed slowly and sensually against her clit. The sensation was overwhelming and she wanted more. She rocked her hips against his, moaning in pleasure. She withdrew her hand and snaked it between them, cupping his hard erection. He groaned against her neck and involuntarily thrust against her hand. He thrust a long finger inside of her, causing her to cry out. God, she wanted more. She needed more. He seemed to come to the same conclusion and he swiftly withdrew his hand and she turned on her back to watch as he stripped off his boxers, his erection springing free.

He looked over at her with dark eyes as he slowly pulled down her panties. She sat up and impatiently pulled her top off. She didn't want to wait anymore. There would be time for foreplay later. Right now, she wanted him with such an intensity that it burned right through her. He saw the look in her eyes and was instantly on top of her, his mouth crashing against hers. Her hands were in his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp as she opened her mouth for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to enter her. He pulled back slightly and looked down at her with a look that was mixed with need and desire and wonder.

"Is this what you want, Rose?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied with conviction.

"Is it me that you want?"

She cupped his face so he was forced to see the sincerity in her face. "Always."

"Say my name," he urged, his voice strained with restraint. He was pressed against her entrance.

"Master," she whispered like a prayer.

This was the answer he needed and he thrust into her, both crying out in pleasure. He stilled, letting her adjust.

"Make love to me, Master," she murmured against his ear.

He groaned and thrust into her again, setting up a slow rhythm as he savored their joining and making love to her. He kissed her tenderly, as though he were worshiping her.

His pace started to quicken, his thrusts becoming harder as urgency for completion overtook them both. She cried out as her orgasm overtook her, her nails digging into the muscles in his back and she cried out his name. He thrust a few more times before his own orgasm came, and he spilled into her, her name whispered reverently in her ear.

They clung to each other, each breathing hard. He finally lifted his weight off of her and looked down at her with such a tender look that it made her heart ache. He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "My Rose," he murmured.

"My Master," she whispered back, the early morning air reverberating with their vows.