Archive of Our Own ^beta

'Rainbows. Off.' Missy hoists a rope that opens the curtains around the entirely foreseeable bed, pink and suggestive and heart-shaped. Heart-shaped for Borfus Snarglers, at least. She'd done a minor but oddly satisfying scam in her fourth incarnation selling their internal organs as novelty plushies.

The Doctor (she's still calling herself that, it suggests a distinct lack of imagination really but then how much can you expect of someone who persistently refuses to take over planets)- the Doctor ponders the scene, her hair gently waving in a flower-accented breeze from the hotel air vents. 'As in, you want me to take my shirt off or you want me to get off? Or is it both? I can do both. Might even be quicker that way.'

There is a short silence while Missy is forced to confront the unsettling possibility that this is all going wrong, which means it is in fact going Completely Right. For a change.

'I did just try to obliterate one of your favourite Fifty-First century planets with an supernova laser.'

'Yes, but you didn't, cos I was there to stop you,' the Doctor says, throwing herself across the bed. 'Oho, memory anti-gravity! Last time I was in one of these, Jamie fell asleep on top of me!'

Trust her to bring up her alien pets during negotiations and not even wonder if that's a faux pas; but Missy's hardened to that after a millennium or three. 'To say nothing of almost killing that middle-aged Englishman you've been running around with.'

The Doctor bundles up her coat and lobs it untidily at a handy corner. 'Which one was it? I'll be honest, I lose track of which one's been doing what sometimes. If it wasn't for Yaz keeping tabs on them for me-'

There is a delicious smile turning up the corners of her mouth now, while she tears off the braces, then her t-shirt. As a strip-tease it's moving at far too rapid a pace, but that sort of eagerness ought to be a good thing- shouldn't it?

'...oh,' Missy says. 'This isn't about me at all. You want her.'

The Doctor, practically naked by this point, effortlessly summons up that same blasé air that she invariably adopted after being caught in a scrape at the Academy. 'Yeah. Not thinking of you at all, I'm just horny and this is a convenient way to get off. Are you a masochist or aren't you?'

She's still fully dressed, Missy considers. It would be the simplest thing to just walk out of the hotel room right now and leave the Doctor to her frustrations.

Bugger that.

Delicately, Missy begins removing the outermost of her triple corsets.