"Hasn't it just," the Master said through gritted teeth, feeling a little embarrassed after everything and oh, that nose flick, if he did that one more time then the Master would -- well, do nothing. Because he was tied to the top of his bed, on his tiptoes, blindfolded, a little concerned and unable to actually fight back. "This is all a little showy. My, my, someone has missed me. You know it'd more traditional to ask nicely for these things."

Not that the Master ever did. In fact he'd done worse. Way worse. He was a lucky man really, given how merciful the Doctor seemed to be to him. Well, usually anyway. "No, this has nothing to do with you. I'm simply building myself a worthy empire," the Master defended, tugging against his bindings. No bomb, probably no knife, why couldn't he struggle a little? "Now, Doctor, this is very demeaning. Untie me at once!"