Companion of Death - A Doctor Who Fanfiction (Thasmin)

Interlude: The Doctor and Missy

So I saw this idea in another fanfiction I read, and I'm borrowing it. Between every adventure, I'm putting in a short interlude that's mostly just fluff, angst, and a bit of bonding.

The Doctor stopped me in front of the TARDIS, just as I was about to enter. Yaz and the Master – Missy – were inside, so this was a private conversation. Of that I was grateful. The less people around when I have a breakdown or anxiety attack, the better. I looked down at my combat boots to avoid her angry glare, bracing myself for a good chewing-out. The sooner this ended, the better.

A gentle hand gripped my jaw and forced me to make eye contact. To my surprise, the Doctor's face showed no anger, no sadness, nothing. That scared me. When people feel so strongly that their faces cannot express anything, it's usually bad news.

"I am a pacifist," the Doctor stated. "Violence is not the answer. I'll let you travel with me, but I'm going to have to lay down some ground rules. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I responded.

"Good," she said. "Get in the TARDIS."

She pushed the door open and I went inside. She entered behind me and closed the door firmly, locking it. The room was empty, causing me to look at the Doctor in confusion.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

The Doctor laughed. "This is just the control room," she informed me. "The TARDIS is much bigger. Ready to go through the rules?" I nodded. "Rule number one: don't wander off. I have a duty of care. Rule number two: use your enemy's power against them. Rule number three: never use weapons unless the damage can be repaired. That one applies especially to you. Any questions?"

"Yeah," I growled. "I hate when people pull the 'duty of care' card. I didn't ask for that."

"Bad luck," the Doctor responded, shrugging carelessly. "Don't wander off."

I decided to drop the subject. "About the Master..." I began.

"If this is about what you did, talk to her," the Doctor said shortly. "I want to know about your weapons arsenal."

I slung my backpack off my shoulder, dropping it to the floor. "Laptop, charger," I muttered, pulling the things out. "Notebook, pencil case... ah, there they are!" I triumphantly brought out a handful of assorted grenades. "One electromagnetic left, a bunch of frags, mostly flash-bangs," I told the Doctor, scrutinizing her face. "And there's my pocket knife. That's all."

"What are frags and flash-bangs?" the Doctor asked.

"Frags are purely defensive," I stated. "Flash-bangs are for distraction. They're dead useful."

The Doctor dismissed me, giving me directions to find Missy and telling me to talk to her. The directions, confusing though they were, were easy enough to follow, and I discovered just how big the TARDIS really was. The ship, crammed into a tiny outer shell, was huge! It was beyond any science fiction I had ever read, written, or imagined. It was definitely a wonder to behold.

But with each step closer to Missy, I became more anxious about talking to her. I had tried to kill the Master, thinking that was right, but I doubted that it was forgivable. I didn't think. I was stupid. My classmates were right; I was stupid.

"No, you're not," a voice said, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. I blinked rapidly, finding the sound. It was Missy. She dragged me into a room – a bedroom, lavishly furnished with a double bed and mahogany dresser – and sat me down, placing a reassuring hand on my back. "You were muttering to yourself," she told me. "But I want you to know this: you're not stupid, and you're not unforgivable. Oswin Foreman, you're clever, and you're not scared of doing what you think is right. That's a good thing. Look at me, I'm fine. I'm more than fine! And it was your knife that did it. Really, I should thank you," she chuckled.

Even with her reassurance, I still couldn't look at Missy. I barely registered her use of my pen name, which she used specifically to help with my depressing thoughts. She was trying to raise my confidence by mentioning my success as a writer, but I didn't hear it.

"Hey, you're quiet," Missy said, trying to snap me out of my daze.

I shook my head, clearing it from thoughts I knew I could never share, and made eye contact to show that I was alright. My poker face was perfect, my secrets intact. "I'm fine," I said.

"It's okay if you don't trust me yet," Missy said gently, a hint of a Scottish accent emerging in her tone. "I mean, we barely know each other. But you shouldn't lie to yourself. You heal quicker when you can admit that something is wrong."

She knew I was hiding something. My poker face was too perfect.

"Are you alien?" I asked suddenly, changing the subject. It was a question I had wanted to ask the Doctor before we had gotten tied up with the CyberMasters.

"Yes," Missy responded candidly. "The Doctor and I are from the planet Gallifrey. We're Time Ladies. How'd you guess?"

I shrugged. "She said Torchwood tried to take the TARDIS," I reasoned.

"Clever," Missy said. "Very clever, Oswin. Now it's my turn to ask where you're from."

"Earth," I deadpanned.

"Okay, fair," the Time Lady acknowledged. "I told you my home planet, so you told me yours. But more specifically?"

"Earth, Texas," I smirked. This was always my favorite part of meeting new people. The only part I liked at all, really. I usually hated people. Too many of them proved to be bullies.

Missy smiled a bit. "Your accent is a bit New York," she said.

"I was born there," I explained. "But Earth was home for the past ten years. Now I'm officially dead. Weeping Angel."

I didn't know why I was opening up to Missy so much, but there was something about her that put me at ease. In the past, and even now around the Doctor and Yaz, I couldn't lower my guard. But with Missy, it was different. And I had no idea why, because she should hate me. I stabbed her – him – in the chest! But she thought differently. She thanked me for it. Though I was unsure why getting stabbed was so good...

Theories why Missy doesn't hate Echo?