A/N: Updates are going to be every Wednesday - L x

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She was beautiful when she slept. The little twitches in her sleep, the mumblings under her breath, the moments when a piece of hair would break free from her beehive hairstyle and drop over her forehead. It had been three long days and she still hadn't woken up. It was worrying The Doctor. He hadn't left the Vault, hadn't ate, hadn't slept. Nardole had tried to force something down him but to no prevail.

"Sir", he had said to him in a low voice as The Doctor watched over his Mistress. "I realise it's not my place to pry, but you haven't restrained her. If she wakes, she is a threat to you. A threat to everyone. Do you really think a door is going to withstand her?"

"It's been three days. She hasn't even stirred. I'm trying my best to keep her alive. I had to pour water down her throat because she wouldn't take it".

"You care for her".

"We're the last of our kind. I know she's done so much bad, but it would... I wouldn't".

"You wouldn't have a heart if you didn't care", Nardole finished his sentence for him. "Are you sure it's not more than that?"

"I don't have to explain myself".

"But it is, isn't it? You have feelings for her". It sounded awful when Nardole put it that way. It sounded like a rebound, like he was hopping from his wife to his Mistress in a matter of months. The cyborg tilted his head in curiousity. Why did The Doctor think that he wouldn't let this go?

"We've known each other for centuries, she knows me better than anyone in the universe. Do you blame me?" The Doctor answered, leaning back further into his armchair. He realised that the Vault wasn't meant to be homely, but it needed something else. He made a mental note to take care of it. Shortly after Missy was put into the Vault, he had brought a couple of chairs, a small bed, a full length mirror, some blankets and a pillow from the TARDIS storeroom. It wasn't much, but it was manageable for now. "My personal life is none of your business anyway".

"I think you'll find it is", Nardole stated in a serious tone. "I saw what River's passing did to you. And Missy has had three attempts on her life since her regeneration. I don't want history to repeat itself".

"Are you telling me to not get attached?"

"It's too late for that, Doctor. I'm telling you to be careful. Because, though you may think that she may change, she isn't the child of Gallifrey that you cling to so fondly anymore. She's burnt stars, destroyed millions. You can't change her past". He began to walk away.

"No, but I can change her future".

"I'm getting something from the canteen. Do you want anything?" he asked. 

"No. And please listen to that request", The Doctor replied, nodding towards the still-full packet of sandwiches that littered the space around his chair. Food was the last thing on his mind. Getting up from where he sat, he stepped into the containment field and stood over Missy. He had set up a little bedroom for her, not that she was conscious to appreciate it. It was just a bed in the centre of the cell with a mirror, a small table and a deep bowl of water. Though it was simple, The Doctor did feel a small amount of pride at his ventures into interior design. 

"Come on", he whispered. "You've recovered from worse. So what's taking you so long?" He guessed her body had gone into a healing coma, trying to recover her from the device's blast. Though The Doctor had managed to take off most of the lethal aspects of it, he knew that the sheer amount of stress and shock on her body would take time to heal. Lifting her slightly from the bed, he held her in his arms and listened as their heartbeats intertwined. "It'll be okay. I promise. It'll be okay". There was something he was forgetting though. Something he had to do. Missy had been at the front and centre of his mind for the past few days, so everything else had pretty much gone out of the window. Maybe he shouldn't have taken that lecturing job after all.

It was Nardole's idea. He said it 'would take his mind off other things'. He didn't realise that it would take up most of this time on planning and marking and... Oh crap. Marking. That's what he was meant to do. It was all up in his office. He supposed he could go and get it, but who would watch over Missy? Usually him and Nardole took turns - he didn't want her to wake up to a strange place without a familiar face. And God knows where Nardole was. He was prone to bouts of wandering around the University Campus. It had been three days...

Surely ten minutes wouldn't make a difference?

Grabbing the keys to his office from the side, he threw a quick look back to Missy and shut the Vault door behind him.

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It was silent. Perfectly silent. Well, in the Vault anyway. Inside Missy's mind was an orchestra of voices and drums which was driving her even more insane than she was beforehand. She could hear The Master whispering over the drumbeat:
"If you're going through with this ridiculous business Missy, then I wouldn't bother waking up".

"I know you're only ignoring me because you know I'm right".

"This is stupid and you think so too".

"The Doctor has done nothing for you. This is the final straw".

"Such a disappointment. I survived the Time War for this?"
She thought it wouldn't end. That she would be in an endless cycle, just talking to herself until the end of time. Then she heard it. The Doctor's voice.

"It'll be okay. I promise. It'll be okay". It was like a tiny flicker of hope that seemed to awaken every ounce of determination she had in her. With a final push, her chipped-ice eyes shot open and she breathed in deeply. Sitting bolt upright, she looked around her, her eyes darting around the room. What was this place? It certainly wasn't the TARDIS, unless The Doctor had had a complete overhaul of the interior. And he wasn't exactly the type to do so. This must be the Quantum Fold chamber that Rafando was on about. This was her prison. She stood up from the bed and immediately felt her hair strain. Perhaps she had pulled it her hairdo a little too tight. She noticed the mirror that stood just beside her and she looked into it. 

"God, I look awful", she mumbled. Pieces of hair had fallen away and lay either wispy or scraggly at the sides of her face. Half of her makeup had smudged onto the pillow, which mixed with drool and hairspray. The Doctor must have taken her coat and boots off as they sat discarded at the end of the bed. Sighing, she began the strenuous task of unpinning her meticulous up-do and picking out the bobby pins which held it in place - twenty seven in total, which she dropped onto the wooden floor. Her curled hair cascaded down past her shoulders. "Better. Now, what can I do about this?" she murmured to herself, looking at the clumps of mascara under her eyes. Turning towards the bowl, she dove her hands into the lukewarm water and threw it over her, the makeup she was wearing pouring down her face. She was suddenly so thankful for non-waterproof makeup. And thankful for The Doctor too. The considerate dork had thought of everything. When she had finally came back to her senses, she realised she was smiling like an idiot in the mirror. 

"Oh!" said a surprised voice from the door. Missy turned to see a short man holding lunch in his arms. He was as bald as a coot, wearing a red duffel coat and trousers that were too long so they flopped over his boots. "Um, hello Miss". 

"Hello, new person. I would ask you your name but -" she started, in a sing-song voice, then noticed what was in his arms. "Are those sandwiches?"

"I, uh... Yes. I suppose". 

"Gimme", she demanded, beckoning him forward. She had never felt so hungry in all her lives, well, apart from that dodgy resurrection, but that was not to be talked about. A large piece of her dignity was thrown away when she ate that food the Earthlings called 'fast'. Just the thought of it now made her skin crawl. And there was nothing fast about it. 

The android didn't budge. "Well, if you're not going to come to me, then I'll just go to you", she lilted and walked towards him, only to be pulled back by the blue rays of the containment field. Perhaps this arrangement wasn't so cushty after all. "Wait, I recognise you!" she gasped, realising where she had seen him before. "You're hood guy, from my execution. The one The Doctor was talking to". She tilted her head with a cheeky look in her eyes. "Has he adopted you? He has a tendency to do that". 

"Doctor!" Nardole shouted into the room behind him, as if he was shouting for help for someone to save him from the scary Mary Poppins that he had no chance of controlling. 

"Coming, Nardole", came a quiet reply, which could only be heard because it had echoed down the corridor. He turned the corner into the Vault, a pile of dog-eared papers in his hands. "I swear I can't leave you alone for ten-" He caught sight of her, disappointment building in his eyes. 

"Minutes?" Missy attempted to finish his sentence.

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He had missed it. Of course he had. With luck like his, could he expect any different? All those hours of imaginary introductions where Missy would wake up and they would... Well, he hadn't quite got that far, but something good would happen, and she woke up alone and confused. Everything he didn't want to happen. 

"Well, isn't that my bloody luck", he huffed, dropping all of the papers onto the chair, not caring if a few fell off and slid across the floor. 

"Oh, don't be all cross pants", she said with a chuckle. "I'm awake, aren't I?"

"But I wanted to be there", The Doctor spoke in a small voice. "I felt responsible for your safety". 

"It's fine! I mean I had", she began, gesturing towards Nardole, attempting to remember his name. "This one". 

"Nardole",  the said cyborg answered. 

"I'm sorry about the arrangements. I will... Improve upon it". 

"Yes". Missy leaned forward, so that her hand touched the containment field, which glowed blue under his fingers. "This goes first". 

"It certainly will not!" Nardole cut in. "I'm sorry, sir, but that is unacceptable". The Doctor forced a nod, but secretly winked towards Missy. It didn't look like he was in the mood for following orders off someone who was half computer program. He looked down at his watch, then panic rushed over his face when he saw how late it was. Missy was amused by how his eyebrows jumped from furrowed above his eyes halfway up his forehead in a millisecond. 

"Always late". He turned to walk away, then looked over his shoulder at Missy. "I'll see you later. Chinese?"

"No, they're too sweet. And a little too crunchy", Missy responded, which only made The Doctor look confused, until he realised what a sick sense of humour she had. 

"The food! Not the people!"

"Aren't they the same thing?" The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but didn't. 

"You're on shift", he murmured towards Nardole and then left before he could dispute. 

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Two hours later

"Can you please open the containment field, Mr. Nardole?" Missy whimpered, to which Nardole just rolled his eyes. He had plonked himself in The Doctor's chair with a pile of battered books at his side (Missy could only read the titles of some of them: 'Nineteen-Eighty Four - George Orwell', 'Great Expectations - Charles Dickens', 'Fifty Shades of Grey - E.L. James' 'Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen'). Missy sat, cross-legged on the floor, watching the man turn the page of his book. She had done everything there was to do. She had braided her hair, so it twisted down her left shoulder, made the bed and attempted to escape the field which retained her around six times, six different ways. All to no prevail. 

"No". 

"I'm booored". Finally breaking, Nardole grabbed the pile of papers The Doctor had left and read the topic off the top. 

"Do you know anything about the quantum statistics of light?"

"Of course. The idea behind it is -"

"No, no. Stop there", he interrupted and launched the papers through the containment field so they landed in front of her. "You want to become good? Start with doing a favour for The Doctor". She just looked at the papers, disgusted at the idea.

"I will not stoop to such levels", she retorted, sliding them away like they had personally offended her. "I mean, this is Earthling work". 

"Hey, you said you were bored. Unless you want to spend your time staring at me reading all day". Missy thought about it for a moment and then sighed.

"Pass me a pen". 

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