I did a "ship kids" prompt on tumblr, and made one for Twissy when asked. Then she became fully fledged in my mind and her story and relationship with her parents was too interesting to not turn into an actual story.
This story will have Twissy acting as hilarious co-parents and a kid who is an interesting mix of both of them but definitely has her own way of going about things.
But of course, we have to start where the kid...er...started. ;)
The Doctor knew a lot of things. He knew simple things like math and geography and more complicated things like the rules of time and how Clara's eyes malfunctioned when she got surprised or upset.
He also knew impossible things. Like the fact that the person in the universe who had the tightest grip on his hearts was a psychopath who had tormented him for centuries but also once been his best friend. And as unpleasant as the reality of that was, he had actually managed to more or less come to terms with it. He'd certainly had centuries to do so.
But what he currently knew was that letting her in the TARDIS had been a bad idea and letting her kiss him again had been an extremely bad idea. How was he supposed to have known that this time he was going to be hit with the urge to kiss her back?
Actually, when it came down to it, everything to do with the Master, or Missy, or the Mistress, or whatever the hell she wanted to call herself, was a grade A terrible idea and he would deserve the "I told you so" and/or "what the hell are you doing" Clara would give him if she knew that he was currently snogging his oldest enemy.
Missy's hands travelled down the front of his jacket and ripped the buttons from the seams in her haste to rid him of the article of clothing. By the time he realised what she was doing, he wasn't so sure he wanted to stop her. Generally he couldn't be less interested in this sort of thing, and before she'd turned up again he'd been certain that this body was asexual. Now it was becoming obvious that he'd been wrong - demisexual it was, then (and demiromantic).
To hell with it, he thought briefly, and he grabbed her face to kiss her fiercely with all the passion and anger and need that felt so foreign in his veins but couldn't be ignored.
She giggled happily at his enthusiasm and when her nails dug into his skin through his shirt he couldn't even find the will to complain. As always, he was putty in her hands and a sufferer of the most toxic kind of love, and he actually really didn't want to stop her removing his clothes and her own.
Well, she was the one who helped him realise that he was an idiot at the core. This just supported the theory.
Next chapter we'll see Twelve get...well, probably the biggest shock of his life in the form of something very small, if you take my meaning. :D