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The Doctor doesn't know what happened. Last time she saw him, well- her, at the time... sure, she may have sided with her other self at the last minute, but she thought Missy- she thought the Master had changed.
She had! The Doctor knows she had. She remembers those nights in the vault, the ones where Missy tried so hard to keep up her facade despite obviously beginning to realize that what she had been doing was wrong. But now, this Master.... it's almost like nothing ever happened. Like nothing they talked about in that vault had any impact at all.
It was upsetting, everything that had happened. Y'know, her friends almost being killed, the world almost ending, the Master admitting to destroying Gallifrey....
And, as was unfortunately the case, being so upset was making her feel very, very small. And, even more unfortunately, this was not the type of small she can just shrug off, not even the type of small she could deal with on her own.
Missy flopped back onto her bed, sinking into the mattress. She had just finished redecorating and reorganizing the vault for what had to be the 100th time that month and she's quite pleased with it. She might actually keep it like this, assuming she doesn't start getting restless again. But the Doctor was supposed to stop by today... or tomorrow. She really didn't keep track of time anymore. Ironic, for a Timelady. But he should be by soon, and as much as she hates to say it, she really hopes he does, because she really needs to bother someone or else she'll go even more insane.
She quirks an eye open at the sound of the vault door opening and closing. She sighs, stands up, smooths out her skirt and...
"Oh."
There's a woman, short and blond and honestly rather cute. Not the Doctor, though, which is concerning when he should be the only one with access to the vault.
"Well, who do we have here? Did the Doctor get a new pet? Shame, I almost liked the last one.." she says playfully. The woman sniffles, and it's only not that Missy realizes she's crying. "Missy," she whimpers, "Missy it's -"
The poor thing seems to be struggling just to speak, her voice wobbly and unsure and it almost scares her. Missy isn't used to people crying, especially from things other than her actions, and especially when she actually feels bad for them. So, hesitantly, she approaches, and the woman practically tackles her, and she can feel the woman's hearts-
Hearts.
"Doctor?" Missy asks, and the woman, the Doctor, already has her face buried in the timelady's neck, already clinging to her like a lifeline.
"Okay, okay," She says, more for herself than the Doctor. "Can you look at me, Doctor? Did you regenerate?"
Seeing that Missy wasn't mad seemed to calm the Doctor down quite a lot. It takes a little bit, but now that she's here, she feels okay enough to talk.
"I'm - no, that's a long way off. Your Doctor is still okay. Out shopping, I think. Something like that." she says. She's lucky she's gotten so used to holding back emotions, to pocketing them until she's alone to express them, or else she would still be incomprehensible. "I'm from.. I don't wanna say the future, but it'll be quite a while."
"Right, but why are you here?" Missy asks. She's running a hand up and down the Doctor's back, which is something the smaller timelady greatly appreciates.
"Because I need to be." she responds, shakily. "Something... happened." Just thinking about the ordeal was making her visibly more upset, and Missy panics a little. She hates when people cry like this, it always makes her feel so mushy.
She gives the Doctor a kiss on the forehead, almost unconsciously. Part of her cringes at how disgustingly sweet it was. The other part of her is more concerned about controlling her partn- her friend. Whatever she was. She didn't want to assume what they were in the future, though she really hoped, somewhat uncharacteristically, that not much had changed between them.
"What happened, dear?" She asks. "Why did you have to come to me, and not, well, me? Your version of me."
The Doctor looks at her so pathetically that she feels bad for even asking.
"Alright, alright, I won't go there. Just tell me what you need, 'kay?" Missy says, trying rather hard to be a bit more upbeat. The Doctor probably needs it.
"I was feeling small." the Doctor responds. "Like, properly small."
"Oh. Well then, I might just be able to help." She smiles, kissing the Doctor on the nose. Yuck. She's being sappy. But the Doctor needs her to be sappy, so she guesses she'll have to deal.
The Doctor, well, her Doctor, was pretty stubborn when it came to his regression. Annoyingly stubborn, honestly, but he did regress around her on occasion. It reminded them both of their academy days, curled up in the same too-small bed, whispering to each other as not to be too loud. Independent, too- taking care of him was more staying in the same room with him than anything. This new Doctor, however, seemed significantly more dependent on her at the moment.
It hadn't taken long for the Doctor to melt back into a whimpering puddle of a timelord, and in turn, Missy tried her best to console her.
"Oh, you poor thing. I'm surprised you managed to pilot your TARDIS at all." Missy coos. She attempts to pick the smaller timelord, and when met with no resistance, she hoists the Doctor into her arms. She truly was such a tiny thing. She wasn't exactly sure why she picked the Doctor up, other than to rock her back and forth in what she hoped was a soothing motion, but, almost unconsciously, she finds herself moving towards her bed. That’s a good place to start, she supposes.
“Am I allowed to leave you alone for a second, or will you burst into tears?” She asks. The Doctor responds by holding on just a little tighter.
“Alright then.” Missy huffs. She isn’t the biggest fan of having to carry people for long periods of time, especially when she's trying to actually do something. She’s going to have to, though. Rassilon, the things she does for the Doctor.
Regardless, she heads to her kitchenette in search of some food and drink for the little. She has some cereal, which seems like it’s appropriate, and after walking all the way back over to the corner she called a “bedroom”, she went back for a glass of milk. That’s something littles like, right? Dry cereal and milk? She supposes she could mix them. She doesn’t normally need to feed the Doctor, he tends to feed himself. She makes one last trip, this time to the wardrobe, to get some pajamas. The pajamas in question are various t-shirts, most of which are leftover from her campaign for prime minister. That phase was a little embarrassing in hindsight, but it was funny to see the Doctor in merch from one of her evil plans.
When all was said and done and dressed in the comfiest clothes in the vault, Missy could finally set the Doctor down. Her bed wasn’t exactly the biggest, but if it was enough for her to sprawl out dramatically, it was enough for the two of them. Not like it particularly mattered, though.
“This regeneration has no sense of personal space, huh?” The timelady teased. The Doctor whines.
“I was joking, poppet.” Missy reassures, pulling the other woman into her arms. The Doctor was exhausted, practically limp in her arms, half asleep, curled up, scrunched like a newborn that hasn’t quite gotten used to being out of the womb. It’s all too precious, and she is being way too sappy about it for her tastes. She may be evil, but not evil enough to turn away a friend in a time of need- ew. Ew ew ew. Maybe she really is reformed. Yuck.
“Missy?” The Doctor yawns, and it is disgusting how adorable it is, “Awake?”
“Yes, petal, I’m awake. Need something?”
“Love ‘ou.”
Missy paused. That isn’t- people don’t say that to her. Not even her Doctor (though he won’t admit to loving anyone, no matter how obvious it may be) has said that to her. She wonders what changed with this new regeneration- but absence makes the heart grow fonder she supposes. And by the sound of it… Actually, best not to think about that.
“I love you too.”
The Doctor is three steps away from her TARDIS when she hears a familiar voice. Her voice, her old voice.
“Who are you and what are you doing with my TARDIS.”
“My TARDIS, actually.” she responds. “I’m you. From the future. Cool, right?”
The other Doctor doesn’t look too amused. But then again, one can only look so amused with those eyebrows.
“And what was so important that you needed to cross your own timeline?” He asks.
“Spoilers.” She responds.
“I’m probably not even going to remember this by tomorrow, tell me.”
“Still, spoilers. My lips are sealed.” She says, partially because she’s actually concerned about potentially damaging the timeline, and partially because telling him that Missy is no longer good in her time will probably crush him. He looks at her in a way that’s almost desperate, and she can understand the sentiment, but she isn’t about to cause any more damage than she already potentially has.
“Sorry, mate. You’re just gonna have to find out for yourself.” She smiles, sadly.
And with that, she slips into her TARDIS and takes off.