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Missy looked up at the noise, a very distinctive one at that. A TARDIS. But why-? The Doctor wouldn’t pilot his TARDIS into the Vault. He’d worry she would steal it. Silly rabbit, as if he couldn’t just put it on isomorphic and keep a close eye on her. Missy had six escape routes already, and some of them weren’t even bloody. She wouldn’t need his ship to escape.
But here his ship was. Maybe he had messed with the locks again? Wait, no. His TARDIS, definitely, no other Time Lord would fly around in a police box, but not his .
She sat back on the couch, cool as a cucumber.
Until a young blonde walked out and the facade broke, Missy positively grinning as she popped to her feet. Not her Doctor, tachyon count was far too off, different smell, and… she’d know if this was her Doctor regenerated. Things wouldn’t feel off . She was in an entirely different outfit, for one.
The Doctor, yes, but not her Doctor. Not yet. Maybe… someday, hers would become this one. Older, she could tell. Though not by how much. Irrelevant. She circled around this Doctor, waiting for her to speak.
Of course, it never took long. Missy might hate silences, this self more than any other, but she’d long learnt to make due with her own footsteps. Humming, if she really needed. The Doctor had never discovered a coping mechanism other than their own voice. “Like what you see?” Wry, but definite undertones of nervousness.
Missy adored this one already, even if her outfit looked like she’d found it in the rubbish bin of a charity shop. “I see you got the upgrade, dear. About time. Thirteen bodies in a row as a man at least . I don’t know how you did it.”
“You’ve been a man up until now too,” the Doctor objected, and wasn’t she just precious, the way she was pouting?
“No, dear, I’ve been a woman before. You just haven’t met every version of me.”
The Doctor made a face at that. “There’s a lot about you I don’t know.”
It sent a chill down Missy’s spine, even if this self, thankfully, had enough composure to hide it. It occurred to her, suddenly, to wonder why this Doctor was here. If she needed Missy, and this was where she chose to meet… well, that had some troubling implications about the success of the Vault. If the Doctor was here , that meant Missy wasn’t traveling with her. Which meant this was a failure. “What brings you here, dearie?”
The look on the Doctor’s face gave Missy the impression the woman (presumably, she hadn’t actually confirmed -) had forgotten that she had, in fact, come here with a purpose. “Oh, right. Er, actually. I was wondering. If you could maybe help me with that. The whole…” Missy waited patiently. This Doctor was not so good with words, it seemed. Never could rehearse lines. “Well. This you is a woman. And I’m a woman. But people still… respect you? And they don’t seem to do that with me. As much. Not as much as they did any of my other selves. So I was… wondering. If you might have any. Tips.”
“Don’t tug at your hair, darling,” Missy reprimanded absentmindedly, only to give a delighted grin when the Doctor gave her a look and tugged harder, apparently just to spite her. This one had some backbone . She’d be delightful to play with, Missy hoped she hadn’t regenerated by the time-
Because this wouldn’t work. Right. But… she was trying now , so she might as well give genuine advice. Maybe there was another reason for it. Extremely unlikely. But maybe.
“Or do, I suppose. I don’t think any of my strategies would work for you.”
“Why not?” There was a hint of desperation in the Doctor’s voice, one that forced Missy to let some of her concern show. “I don’t- Everyone just- Missy, no one has any respect for this face, and I can’t deal with that, I can’t work if no one respects me.”
Poor dear looked close to punching something out of frustration. Interesting, this Doctor seemed much more prone to getting angry than getting sad. Last time the Doctor had been like that, Missy had avoided him. She wondered if she was avoiding this one. “Unfortunately, my methods tend to be the fact I make it very clear I’m okay with murder. Take- look at it this way. It’s about the two As, aesthetics and attitude. Do I look approachable?”
The Doctor shook her head slowly, and Missy nodded. “Exactly. You… dearest, you just look like the sort of person who would bend over backwards to help me if I walked up to you. And humans are much more willing to make women do the bending over backwards thing than men.”
Missy continued on, noting how the Doctor was watching her. She was listening. Good. “There’s two reasons for this- one, I don’t look approachable. I look stern. You’re all… bubbly. Round. Even if you’re glaring, unless you’re really meaning it, they’re just going to see a harmless little puppy dog, trying to look scary. Then there’s attitude. You could try to mean it, but…”
“But I probably won’t like the person I become if I do,” the Doctor finished with a sigh.
Missy hummed. “Something like that. Look at me, look at… your wife , there’s a level of willingness you need to have to carry through with your threats even if someone might not necessarily deserve it- which you lack.”
The Doctor didn’t react to the mention of River, gaze distant as she nodded slowly. “Right, thanks Missy.”
Seeing the Doctor look like that, Missy decided to take a risk. “Doctor, dearest. Am I allowed to know what I do to screw this up, if you’re here and not asking the version of me analogous to you?”
With a sigh, the Doctor reached out and took her wrist, stopping Missy’s pacing. Missy let her. The Doctor pulled her into a kiss, and after a few seconds Missy reciprocated, though she would probe after. She felt the Doctor’s free hand move up to her cheek, fingers pressing against her temple-
“Missy? Are you all right?” The Doctor was crouching down to meet her eyes, and she looked at him from her spot on the loveseat, blinking.
For some moments, Missy was silent, ignoring the concern on his face. Eventually, she spoke, voice hesitant. Unwilling to further concede to vulnerability, just being here was enough, but... “Doctor? You’d know if someone came into the Vault, wouldn’t you?” Missy knew he would, she just… had the oddest feeling settling over her. It had been a while since she’d lost time, and for the life of her she couldn’t recall what she had been doing. And she could break out, which theoretically meant someone could break in , but she’d know.
As would the Doctor. “I would,” he agreed, sounding very Scottish, as this regeneration did. “The Vault is set to only let in myself or Nardole, an alarm would be triggered if anyone else tried to enter. Why?”
Missy shook her head at him helplessly. “I… don’t know, I’ve just had the oddest feeling.”
The Doctor watched her for a few more moments, then shrugged, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Grounding her. “I promise you, we’d both know if anyone else came in here. I brought Thai, maybe you just need to eat. Or sleep. You’ve probably just gone too long without again."
Missy nodded slowly. “Probably just need to sleep," she echoed. "I’ll do that. Stay?”
He took her hand, leading her to the food he'd placed on a blanket in the centre of the room. A picnic, despite the face that there were seats and tables. Missy couldn't help a smile.
“Of course,” the Doctor agreed.