Fic: Stepping Sideways: Not What She Expected (2/3)
And moar!
Summary: Missy meets the Seeker.
Setting: Immediately after Missy disappears/disintegrates in Death in Heaven (the S8 finale). Works rather perfectly as a little FitB to canon. :)
Characters: Missy, the Seeker.
Part 2
Missy found herself in a round, white room, encased in a see-through but very powerful cylindrical holding cell.
She was not impressed.
After a long while a door appeared and the kid walked through. He studied her silently for a moment, then pulled out a cigar from a pocket, thoughtfully lit it, and - after taking a deep drag, making her positively jealous (how long had it been since she’d had a cigar?) - walked forward, addressing her.
«The humans have a game… Well it featured in a Bond movie, and it’s the sort of stupid game they’d invent, so I presume it’s a thing... Anyway. They place a scorpion on their hand, then attempt to lift a drink to their mouth and empty the glass without the scorpion stinging them, before swiftly trapping the scorpion under the glass. I always thought it a foolish idea, although it would seem I just needed a different sort of scorpion.»
She glared back, deadpan.
«Well thank you for that fascinating little insight into your psyche.»
«My pleasure,» he replied, equally cool. «The point is that you very nearly stung me. As checks on my vanity goes, that comes in at a solid second place.»
She raised an eyebrow.
«And what - if I’d succeeded, I’d have earned the top spot?»
He shook his head.
«Oh no, makes no difference. However, as I now know what kind of scorpion I’m dealing with, I figured we might have another go at introducing ourselves. What name do you go by? Domina?»
(The latin female for ‘Master’. Clever of him, dammit.)
«Missy,» she replied, and he nodded. «Short for Mistress I suppose. Well - my name is Alexander the Great. ‘Great One’ for short. Oh and don’t look like that, you named me! In private I go by ‘the Seeker’.»
What he was going to say next (she had been too busy rolling her eyes to listen properly) was thankfully cut short as the door opened again, revealing a Dalek carrying a tray with a bottle of Lagavulin and a glass.
Which, to be fair, was possibly the most unexpected sight so far. The kid was a rollercoaster.
He beamed.
«I mentioned my pet Dalek, didn’t I? Wonderful thing, Daleks. Your holding cell is Dalek-technology by the way, specifically created to contain Time Lords. Good, isn’t it? But I should probably introduce you: Missy, this is Dalek Caan, the last surviving member of the Cult of Skaro. Caan, this is Missy, this universe’s Master - any thoughts?»
The Dalek turned its eyestalk on her, and she pulled a face at it. What kind of Time Lord had a pet Dalek?
«The Queen of Evil’s story is not yet over,» the Dalek declared, and the Seeker turned a musing eye on her.
«So I can’t kill her then?»
Affecting a thoroughly shocked expression, she said: «You would kill me? A helpless prisoner?»
«Sure,» he replied, «You’re an evil, psychotic megalomaniac. Plus, you tried to kill me.»
«Does your father know you speak like this, young man?»
«Course he does,» the lad chuckled. «Wouldn’t expect anything else. Now -» he looked around. «Can I have a chair please?»
A chair (leather, cosy) appeared and he sat down, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and studying her carefully.
«Tell me about Gallifrey,» he said.
«And why would I do that?» she asked archly.
A shrug, accompanied by a little smile.
«Oh you don’t have to. But I can be very patient if I have to. Or I could just go for the Roda approach and kill you, nevermind what the Dalek says.»
«The what approach now?»
His brow drew together.
«Roda. The Redjay. Rodageitmososa? Your arch-enemy? Not in the best-enemies way of the Doctor, you just hate each other’s guts. No bells? Darn, all this parallel-universe travelling is complicated - all my best friends are missing.»
She sighed deeply.
«If you’re just going to go through your friends-list, could you just kill me and get it over with? Dying of boredom doesn’t really appeal much.»
At which he smiled fondly and tilted his head.
«Oh you never change, do you?»
She thought she might hate him.
~
Sometime later.
He got up and walked away, the Dalek trailing behind him, still carrying the tray.
«So what - you’ll just leave me here?» she asked, and he turned at the door, the cigar held loosely in his right hand.
«Yes. Yes I will do just that. Quite literally. Best take a deep breath.»
It took a couple of seconds for her to parse his meaning.
«Are you serious?»
«I’m always serious,» he replied, «And you always have a way out.» And with that, he left.
Yes, she hated him. Hated his annoying superiority, his overbearing smirk, his bloody efficient holding cell.
One day…
And then the engines started up and the TARDIS slowly dematerialised around her, and she had to concentrate on not dying, now she was suddenly surrounded by nothing except space.
Part 3
Post has been cloned from dreamwidth. Comments welcome everywhere.
Summary: Missy meets the Seeker.
Setting: Immediately after Missy disappears/disintegrates in Death in Heaven (the S8 finale). Works rather perfectly as a little FitB to canon. :)
Characters: Missy, the Seeker.
Part 2
Missy found herself in a round, white room, encased in a see-through but very powerful cylindrical holding cell.
She was not impressed.
After a long while a door appeared and the kid walked through. He studied her silently for a moment, then pulled out a cigar from a pocket, thoughtfully lit it, and - after taking a deep drag, making her positively jealous (how long had it been since she’d had a cigar?) - walked forward, addressing her.
«The humans have a game… Well it featured in a Bond movie, and it’s the sort of stupid game they’d invent, so I presume it’s a thing... Anyway. They place a scorpion on their hand, then attempt to lift a drink to their mouth and empty the glass without the scorpion stinging them, before swiftly trapping the scorpion under the glass. I always thought it a foolish idea, although it would seem I just needed a different sort of scorpion.»
She glared back, deadpan.
«Well thank you for that fascinating little insight into your psyche.»
«My pleasure,» he replied, equally cool. «The point is that you very nearly stung me. As checks on my vanity goes, that comes in at a solid second place.»
She raised an eyebrow.
«And what - if I’d succeeded, I’d have earned the top spot?»
He shook his head.
«Oh no, makes no difference. However, as I now know what kind of scorpion I’m dealing with, I figured we might have another go at introducing ourselves. What name do you go by? Domina?»
(The latin female for ‘Master’. Clever of him, dammit.)
«Missy,» she replied, and he nodded. «Short for Mistress I suppose. Well - my name is Alexander the Great. ‘Great One’ for short. Oh and don’t look like that, you named me! In private I go by ‘the Seeker’.»
What he was going to say next (she had been too busy rolling her eyes to listen properly) was thankfully cut short as the door opened again, revealing a Dalek carrying a tray with a bottle of Lagavulin and a glass.
Which, to be fair, was possibly the most unexpected sight so far. The kid was a rollercoaster.
He beamed.
«I mentioned my pet Dalek, didn’t I? Wonderful thing, Daleks. Your holding cell is Dalek-technology by the way, specifically created to contain Time Lords. Good, isn’t it? But I should probably introduce you: Missy, this is Dalek Caan, the last surviving member of the Cult of Skaro. Caan, this is Missy, this universe’s Master - any thoughts?»
The Dalek turned its eyestalk on her, and she pulled a face at it. What kind of Time Lord had a pet Dalek?
«The Queen of Evil’s story is not yet over,» the Dalek declared, and the Seeker turned a musing eye on her.
«So I can’t kill her then?»
Affecting a thoroughly shocked expression, she said: «You would kill me? A helpless prisoner?»
«Sure,» he replied, «You’re an evil, psychotic megalomaniac. Plus, you tried to kill me.»
«Does your father know you speak like this, young man?»
«Course he does,» the lad chuckled. «Wouldn’t expect anything else. Now -» he looked around. «Can I have a chair please?»
A chair (leather, cosy) appeared and he sat down, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and studying her carefully.
«Tell me about Gallifrey,» he said.
«And why would I do that?» she asked archly.
A shrug, accompanied by a little smile.
«Oh you don’t have to. But I can be very patient if I have to. Or I could just go for the Roda approach and kill you, nevermind what the Dalek says.»
«The what approach now?»
His brow drew together.
«Roda. The Redjay. Rodageitmososa? Your arch-enemy? Not in the best-enemies way of the Doctor, you just hate each other’s guts. No bells? Darn, all this parallel-universe travelling is complicated - all my best friends are missing.»
She sighed deeply.
«If you’re just going to go through your friends-list, could you just kill me and get it over with? Dying of boredom doesn’t really appeal much.»
At which he smiled fondly and tilted his head.
«Oh you never change, do you?»
She thought she might hate him.
~
Sometime later.
He got up and walked away, the Dalek trailing behind him, still carrying the tray.
«So what - you’ll just leave me here?» she asked, and he turned at the door, the cigar held loosely in his right hand.
«Yes. Yes I will do just that. Quite literally. Best take a deep breath.»
It took a couple of seconds for her to parse his meaning.
«Are you serious?»
«I’m always serious,» he replied, «And you always have a way out.» And with that, he left.
Yes, she hated him. Hated his annoying superiority, his overbearing smirk, his bloody efficient holding cell.
One day…
And then the engines started up and the TARDIS slowly dematerialised around her, and she had to concentrate on not dying, now she was suddenly surrounded by nothing except space.
Part 3
Post has been cloned from dreamwidth. Comments welcome everywhere.