1. Buy her a dozen roses.
The Doctor held the bouquet at arm’s length, sniffing it gingerly for some sign of poison or explosives or anything else likely to put a crimp on her day. Once she was satisfied that it was merely a harmless armful of roses sprayed with some sort of cheap daisy perfume, she lay them back down in their box, an elegant silk-lined affair that had arrived anonymously that morning. Immediately, as if on cue, the phone rang.
“Aren’t these left over from your business with the Autons?” she said into the receiver, without bothering to wait for an introduction. “Don’t even try to deny it, they’re made of plastic. You didn’t even scent them with the right perfume. And, seeing as how you tried to kill my friend with one of these, I really don’t think they count as a proper romantic gift under any circumstances.”
The other end of the line hung up.
2. Take her someplace special.
“Hold on,” the Doctor said, holding her head and looking a little wobbly – perfectly understandable after having been chloroformed and dragged through time and space in the Master’s TARDIS. “Hold on, isn’t this the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre?”
Before he could answer, she stomped back into the Console Room of his TARDIS and locked him out.
3. Win her a giant stuffed animal.
It was like a giant elephant in the room. A giant, fluffy stuffed elephant with three tusks, six legs, a long furry tail, and underdeveloped paper-thin wings, all neatly tied with a large pink bow around its neck.
“Is that a Tiluvian Grounded Oliphaunt?” the Doctor asked.
The Master smiled, a little smug and pleased that finally, something had gone right. “As matter of fact, my dear Doctor, it is. I procured it at-“
She touched an ear lightly, marveling at the detail of the reproduction. “Aren’t these almost extinct?”
He coughed, delicately. “I wouldn’t say almost.”
She shot him a horrified look. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, but I-“
She slammed the TARDIS door on him. After a minute, she stomped back out and took the last of the Oliphaunts with her – the least she could do was donate it to a museum.
4. Give her jewelry.
“The Crown Jewels?” This time, the Doctor aimed an exasperated shove at the Master before gathering up the precious relics and flouncing off to her TARDIS to return them.
(But not before she tried on at least one crown – for science, you know.)
5. If all else fails, go extravagant.
“What is this?”
The Doctor sorted through a stack of papers on a small planet in the Atlantean Galaxy, making note of the worrying discrepancies – some sort of deity worship for medical practitioners, stunted evolutionary growth, and –
“Why is my face on their currency?” she demanded.
The Master just looked, well, smug, which was extremely annoying and difficult under any circumstances, let alone these. “I merely thought, Doctor, that if you had a taste of what it means to rule, you would be more receptive to my offers of partnership-“
She bunged the coin off the back of his head, which was no small feat of arm strength given its ounce per square centimetre ratio. “No! Listen, Master, I don’t understand what’s gotten into you lately, but it has got to stop. Do you understand me? Go back to, I don’t know, golfing or coming up with terrible plots for me to foil. At least that’s interesting. Because right now you’re just acting like some sort of sad puppy, and that's just very pathetic-“
“Doctor,” the Master said, looming up dangerously close and glowering.
“What?” she snapped.
Without another word, he pulled her into a kiss – a proper knee-buckling, breath-taking, hearts-stopping affair that so completely scrambled her senses that she wasn’t even aware he’d actually dipped her until he set her back to rights.
“Or that could work, too,” she said, sounding a little flustered and faint even to her ears.
He guided her hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. “Until next time, my dear Doctor.”