“I manage,” the Master replied simply, not bothering to look up at the source of the light, feminine voice. It was only when the girl spoke again, with the curious metaphor, that his eyes shifted. Dark hair, small frame, a look in her eyes of either vague brilliance or wide-eyed confusion. Interesting. He leaned back a bit, unbuttoning the buttons on his suit jacket, letting the black fabric dangle from his shoulders. Even for his metabolism, it was dammed hot.
“And which hand do you want?” The Master asked, taking a pawn and tapping it against the table. “Left or right?” He wasn’t bothering to ask if she wanted to play. The Master already knew the answer to that question, just from watching the girl watch him. There was something in her countenance that he’d call cleverness. Cleverness for a human, anyway, though it was possible he was being deluded by some illusion or mind trick. He hadn’t been able to test this incarnation’s psychic powers against any other species yet, after all. Who knows what could happen.