Disclaimer I'm very sorry to say that Doctor Who isn't mine.

A/N: Hello all! This one-shot is a missing scene from between chapter 11 and 12 of my main story 'Mind Games'. I hope this is enough Doctor/Fred romance to be going on with!


Mind Swap

The Doctor stood up straight. "When will we swap back?"

"No idea. Sometime before morning I expect. In the meantime, I suggest we sleep this off. In the morning, no one will know anything about it." The Master said, using the Doctor's voice. The Doctor watched his own body wander off towards the room he'd been given. "This is your room, isn't it?"

The Doctor huffed. "I don't want you going in my room!"

The Master rolled the Doctor's eyes. "If I don't, it'll look pretty strange if we come out of each other's rooms in the morning, won't it? We'll change back soon, thankfully. Trust me; I don't want to be stuck in your gangly body for any longer than I have to. Just rest and stop whining." And with that, he entered his room and slammed the door shut, leaving the Doctor in the dark.

The Doctor squinted at the doors. The Master's eyesight wasn't as good as his, which gave him an odd sense of triumph. He was pretty sure that the Master's room was next door to his. He opened the door slowly; afraid he might be barging in to someone else's room. At least the Master would take the blame. The candles were lit; creating a soothing glow but no one was inside. He entered and made to pull off his jacket when he remembered that he wasn't wearing his jacket. He grumbled and pulled off the Master's frilly shirt. He was about to lie on the bed and wait for his mind to transfer back to his real body next door when he heard movement from the adjoining bathroom. The door opened halfway and a voice called out to him from inside.

"Master?" It was Fred; the Doctor would recognise that voice anywhere. "How did it go with the Doctor? Have you two got a plan worked out?"

"Oh yes. A wonderful plan, spectacular plan, splendid plan. You'll love it." The Doctor said, getting carried away before remembering that the Master really didn't talk like that. Fred just laughed and said,

"Good. So..." The door opened fully and the Doctor turned to see her, ready to bluff his way through the conversation until his mind returned to his own body. Instead, when he saw her, all he could say was a breathless:

"Hmm!"

She was leaning against the bathroom door in nothing but an expensive looking set of satin lingerie in a deep emerald colour and a pair of cream heels. She raised an eyebrow rather foxily.

"Shall we get started?" She said huskily.

Stay calm, Doctor. Calm. Calmitty, calm, calm. "Er, yes. Right. I suppose we'd better had."

She frowned slightly. "Don't you want to tonight? That's not like you."

"No, no, no. Actually that is like me. Maybe lately I've just...gone off it."

She grinned. "No you haven't." She gave him a nudge and the Doctor felt the Master's knees give way and he landed with a soft humph on the bed. She straddled his lap and the Doctor knew where he wanted to look, knew where he shouldn't and ended up staring at the floor. She slid her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Stop playing games...Master."

There was a pause. She leaned back and stared at him. "Are you alright?" She asked. "You usually get all rough when I say Master like that."

The Doctor inwardly groaned. Oh, this was way too much information. He ignored the pool of jealously bubbling in his stomach and said: "Yes, spiffing. I mean – er- yeah, yeah. Just thinking about...what an idiot the Doctor is; drives me mad." Annoyingly, that seemed to appease her a little and she began kissing his neck and pressing her body up against his.

Oh, it was wrong. It was so, so wrong and he knew he should stop it...but he didn't have the willpower to do it. A voice in the back of his head told him he was enjoying this. Besides, surely it would just arouse suspicion if he told her to stop. She pulled back a little, her lips hovering an inch away from his own. Well, the Master's. Not being in his own body, the Doctor found it gave him the courage to do something he'd always wanted to.

He kissed her. He had never done it before and it felt...wonderful. She'd kissed him before but he'd never instigated. He pushed against her lips harder and she moaned, lying on top of him and sliding her hands up his bare chest. A groan rumbled in his throat and it felt so good it was nearly painful. Why had he never done this? He'd always known that he wanted her deep down but he just pushed it away, telling himself that they just needed a new adventure or that inventing a new type of screwdriver would take his mind off it. The Doctor could feel a white hot tingle of pleasure in the pit of his stomach as their tongues danced to their ragged breathing.

Unable to stand the position they were in anymore, the Doctor rolled Fred onto her back with ease and lay on top of her instead, running his hands over her small waist, voluptuous hips and smooth legs. She broke their lip contact and arched her back with a sigh, crushing her breasts again his chest. His lips blazed a trail from her mouth, down her neck and he brushed the top of her breasts, his hands greedily squeezing her hips. As soon as she wrapped her legs around his hips, the Doctor froze.

He suddenly realised what he was doing. He glanced down at where his lips had been and saw red marks there. Stubble rash. He didn't have any stubble. This wasn't his body. It wasn't him she was willing to kiss, willing to...how could he have let it get this far? He was taking advantage of her by doing what he wanted using someone else's body as cover. It was cowardly.

He hovered over her; his arms locked over each side of her, and looked into her eyes and saw her. The Fred he had known. She was still in there. As he studied her, he wondered if she could see him for who he really was. He was sure he saw a flicker of recognition on her face before she shook it off, smiled and said, "Where were we?"

He had to fight off the temptation to carry on and was about to leave or maybe even blurt out the truth just anything to stop himself carrying on with something he knew was wrong. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, distracted by a slight pulling at the back of his head. He winced as there was another pull, sharper than the first.

"Master?" Fred said, concerned. "Master, are you alright?"

After another pull, the Doctor began to feel a painful prickle throughout his whole body and his vision seemed to split. On one hand, he could still see Fred, stretched out beautifully beneath him but on the other hand, he could see the ornate cream ceiling of his room next door. There was a final pull and a moment of blackness before he blinked and all the Doctor could see was the ornate ceiling of his own room.

Good, he thought, pushing aside the crushing disappointment that hit him like a tidal wave. He lay there, enjoying the familiar feeling of his gangly body. Silence clogged up his ears until he heard a feminine giggle and a slightly manic laugh from next door.

Evidently, the Master was more than happy to finish what the Doctor started.


Being ravished by the Master was never unpleasant. He was so enthusiastic; Fred found she really didn't have to do much except enjoy the ride. As usual, he tore off her underwear like an animal tearing up the flesh of its prey and he feasted on her skin, taking in every inch.

But that night, Fred wasn't there. She didn't feel like she was there with him in the moment. Instead, she found her thoughts drifting towards the Time Lord next door and – she had no idea why – but she sensed that they had shared something tonight.

Suddenly, she felt very out of place in the Master's room.


I hope you all enjoyed that! It was very fun to write as I wanted to get a bit of humour, a bit of sadness and plenty of romance in.

Anyway...please leave a review!