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Red Handed

Red Handed
By: Memory Dragon
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I make any claim to.
Characters: Third Doctor/Delgado Master
Warnings: One hot and sexy Time Lord wearing his best color coming right at you.  But really, not much beyond that.  Oh, and it's unbetaed crack.
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for the [info]best_enemies 100 drabble challenge. The prompt was 'Red.'  Who looks good in red?  Three does.  Who notices this fact?  The Master.  XD  And yes, I do hate that green jacket...  I think this is the second time I've destroyed it?


The Master quite liked the Doctor's smoking jackets. Not that he would ever admit to the Doctor the jacket's appeal, but he had stolen one of the black ones to keep in his own TARDIS, carefully making sure it would still smell like the other Time Lord even after a prolonged time away from its rightful owner.

He had also made sure to 'accidentally' spill some velvet eating microbes on that horrible green jacket, taking no small pleasure in seeing the Doctor running around in that ridiculously ruffled shirt while his Macra associates took over the Earth. Green, he decided, was not the Doctor's color, and it had been a simple matter to 'borrow' said microbes that the Rani had made for one of his previous regenerations' fashion sense.

When the Macra eventually turned on him and he and the Doctor were forced to work together, the Master had graciously dropped them off at UNIT HQ so that the Doctor could pick up a new jacket. He waited impatiently as he scanned the hall for soldiers, not wanting to be seen and arrested when the Macra were intent on killing all their accomplices to cover up their secret.

When the Doctor came out, however, all of the Master's attention was stolen away by the vivid red. The Doctor was usually stunning in the color, but the deep mahogany of this jacket accented the Doctor's body to the point that it took the Master's breath away.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking," the Doctor said as he put his hands on his hips in a manner that didn't help the Master's problem at all.  "It's your fault we're in this mess, you know."

Forcing himself to snap out of it, the Master gestured for the Doctor to go ahead. He nearly tripped as he walked forward, caught again by the sinuous red velvet of the Doctor's retreating form.

"Are you alright, old chap?" the Doctor asked as he realized the Master wasn't following. He helped the Master straighten up, concern replacing his earlier annoyance.

"Fine," the Master said tersely, suddenly surrounded by red. He needed to say something more, or the Doctor would get
suspicious. He jumped back to the original conversation. "And it wasn't my fault."

The Doctor regarded him carefully as the Master controlled his blush. Even he wasn't that dense, surely, and he had caught the Master openly staring this time...

Then the Doctor sighed. "It most certainly was your fault. I caught you red-handed."

The Master was startled, drawing his hand away that had been reaching out to touch the Doctor's red sleeve. Then he relaxed as he realized the Doctor was just continuing their banter and dropping the subject. He regained control and moodily plotted what would become of this newest jacket. He wasn't going to get anything done if the Doctor kept wearing it.