They had been fighting most of their lives, so much of that time he had lived in his shadow, so much of that time he had been mad. Not your garden variety mad but a madness that had twisted his genius, accentuated it; it was a madness that had seeped to his very core. The madness came when he looked into the un-tempered schism, heard the drums, and felt the need to master them and all that they signified, for they were the heartbeats of time.
For years they had driven him, made him desire a man, a singular unique Time Lord, who had no interest in men the way he want him to be interested. For centuries they had fought, for centuries he hated him beyond reason; wanting to possess, to own. There had even been the time when they were very young that he had tried to take that which he desired without consent, by forcing him to give him his body as the ransom for others - he had always been so noble - but it had been worthless without mutual desire. He wanted not just his body, but also his mind, his hearts. Always the Doctor had eluded him, resisted his every desire.
Little did he know it would take losing everything they both called home; little did he know it would feel so good to be mastered. He had destroyed the Earth, mangled the last living TARDIS in creation, and still the Doctor had forgiven him. The Doctor had known of his madness, they had been best friends once before it came. Then had come the fight, that final fight before he died. Before the Master he had been was no longer.
Lucy had known almost immediately after we took over the earth of my desire for him. Dear, mad, Lucy reveling in the power with me. However, time turned her love to hate, hate towards both me and towards the man that had stolen 'her' husband's hearts. I had joked that I had two, one for each of them, but she hadn't found it funny. It wasn't until the day she had shot me through the one I had joked was hers that I truly understood how much she hated and how much I loved. That day she gave me that which I had desired more centuries than he had been alive: the Doctor's hearts. It wasn't until I lay, bleeding to death in his arms, that I truly understood how broken he was, how desperately alone. It's a joke among more than one species - 'I wouldn't marry you even if you were the last one of our species alive'. Believe me, you change your tune when you are truly are the last. However, if it hadn't been for Lucy's second shot, the one where she changed everything, things might have gone much differently.
My body was dying, my life's blood pumping out onto the floor, as he held me, and begged me to regenerate. I had been determined I wouldn't let him cage me, I would rather die first, but my desire for him was strong enough that when I felt the fire of the second bullet blaze through my brain, forcing the oncoming regeneration to accelerate, I was unable to fight it. That turned out to be my salvation.
I awoke a woman, shaped by his hearts’ desire, in body and in mind.
A/N: Okay now it's up to you to tell me whether I should kick this muse to the curb, or dance another round to see where it goes.