"Well, sure, from your point of view that might be the case. But since I'll remember it all just fine, I really don't think it's wasting time at all. Not when I've got so much better things to do with time than waste it." As he stated that, the Doctor's hand wandered lower from where he'd rested it against the Master's chest, finally settling on his lower stomach, just a light touch, just waiting for whatever he'd decide to do next.

"Oh, yeah. I reckon last time I saw you you couldn't grow a decent one. I'm not quite sure, actually, I never asked." There really hadn't been the time and right moment for any such talk. A whole year and wasted, because the Master had gone too far. Still, now the Doctor sometimes almost regretted the stubborn silence, if only because of the meaningless conversations they could have had, meaningless, but they meant so much to him.