The Doctor, he decided not for the first time, really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. The Master smiled back, releasing his hold on the Doctor's hair (he couldn't decide if it was more or less ridiculous than his previous body's, quite honestly) and giving him a condescending pat on the head, smoothing it back into whatever position it was supposed to be in.

And then, that smile not budging a millimeter, the hand down by his side curled into a fist and struck the Doctor squarely in the gut, hard. "I believe you've lost all of your privileges for the day."

The Master stepped back quickly, observing for a moment, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. As he left, waving his hand carelessly to turn out the lights, he made a mental note to the House to try leaving the door unlocked tonight. He wasn't above a bit of vindictive baiting. And truly, there was nothing like a bit of false hope to underline how hopeless the Doctor's situation really was.