In which everyone's favourite and completely bonkers Time Lady does her best to throw an olive branch to The Doctor and Clara. Whether or not they recognise the olive branch when they see it is quite another matter.
Otherwise known as 'What if Missy just popped up randomly for tea parties and adventures with Clara and The Doctor whenever she felt like it?'
1. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALL THE LIVELONG DAY
"Well, this is very rude I must say. Very uncivilized."
"How did you even get into my flat?!"
"The window," Missy said, gesturing in its direction as if it was a very obvious point of entry, "Needn't have bothered though, had I? You haven't even commented on the cake-"
"You know, I didn't have to come here. I was very busy conducting the Space Whale Choir actually, and they're very picky about their pitches so if you don't mind I'll just jog on back-"
"No, wait, wait, wait," Clara held up her hands as though declaring a truce. Space Whale Choir's aside, this whole scenario needed an explanation. Here was Missy, sat at the dining room table in Clara's flat with a birthday cake and candles and balloons and...was that...was Missy wearing a party hat?
"I just," Clara began again, "I'm not entirely sure what this is."
"Well what does it look like, nano-brain?" Missy said exasperatedly, "It's a party."
An awkward silence as the two stared at one another.
"A birthday party," Missy clarified, eyeing Clara as though she thought her afflicted with some great mental blockage or difficulty.
"Yeah, I get that," Clara snapped indignantly, not particularly enjoying the great amount of judgement in Missy's eyes, "But why?"
Missy's mouth was hanging slightly ajar. A few moments passed by in complete silence, save for a slight hissing from one excessively green balloon which had promptly decided to deflate. Much like Missy's enthusiasm for this whole botched plan.
"You know...I think, I think I'm sensing the problem here," Missy eventually replied, rising to her feet and dramatically taking off the party hat. She took a moment to pinch her nose, close her eyes and theatrically compose herself. Then she placed two hands firmly down on the dining table - one either side of the birthday cake - and stared hard into Clara's confused brown eyes. "You're sensitive about your age aren't you, poppet?"
"It's very natural, very natural of course," Missy continued brazenly, "You humans are ever so puny and helpless, flopping about in the great sea of time - I mean just take a look at your face, you poor dear, it's completely ravaged-"
"Is that a wrinkle I see?" Missy commented, closing the distance between them in a few deft strides. A bit too close, actually, for Clara's liking. Their noses were touching.
"Oh dear," Missy said through the side of her mouth, a feigned expression of concern on her face, "Looks like old Father Time has done a number on you, hasn't he - ?"
"Missy," Clara interrupted firmly, "What are you doing here?"
A mischievous smile on the Time Lady's lips. No answer.
"Missy," Clara prompted again, feeling like she was dealing with a particularly troublesome student.
"A birthday party fo' 'yay all the livelong day," Missy answered, swinging her voice into a cheery, if not slightly bizarre, accent, "Candles fo' 'yay, balloons fo' 'yay, cake on a tray today fo' 'yay-"
"Fo' 'yay," Missy confirmed.
"It's not my birthday."
A few seconds in which time seemed to stretch into an eternity. An endless void filled with Missy's mischievous smile slowly drooping to an expression of complete apathy.
"It's not your birthday?" She echoed.
"No," Clara said, folding her arms decisively across her chest.
More silence. This news seemed to be causing Missy a great deal of inner strife.
"I take it today's not the twenty third of November?"
"No, you're a week early."
"I see," Missy replied, suddenly looking every inch the cold-blooded killer again, "Well that's typical, that's just very bloody typical isn't it?" She turned on her heels and spun back around, taking a pin out of her hair and marching over to the balloons, viciously popping them one by one. "Couldn't have been born a week earlier, Clara, could you?"
"It's not my fault you can't set the date correctly on your vortex manipu-"
"I mean, does it really matter?" The Time Lady suddenly questioned, coming to a halt before popping the last balloon, "Last week, this week, next week, you know, does anyone really care when you popped out your mother's hoo-hah - ?"
"I care," Clara said resolutely, giving Missy a heated glare.
Another slight pause. Missy threw up her hands in defeat.
"Fine, fine! Have it your way, Clara. Wouldn't want to offend your fragile human ego now would I?" The last balloon was ceremoniously popped and Missy started fiddling with the vortex manipulator on her wrist.
"Were you..." Clara began, brows knit together in confusion, "...Were you really trying to throw a birthday party for me though?"
Missy rolled her eyes and gestured elaborately at the scene before them. "Evidently, pet, evidently."
"So...do you...I mean...do you care about me?"
Missy simply gave a long, dramatic sniff in answer.
Clara didn't know whether to scoff at the idea or run as far away as possible as quickly as possible. In fact she didn't know how to react at all. She didn't even know if Missy was actually capable of feelings of...affection? Friendship? Comradeship? She had a fondness for The Doctor certainly, but that seemed firmly rooted in trying to murder him at any given opportunity. Didn't it?
Maybe Missy really was trying to make amends. Maybe this regeneration was...different somehow? Maybe a little bit of The Doctor's compassion had finally gotten through to her-
"The cake was rigged to explode when you blew out the candles anyway," Missy's indifferent voice suddenly cut in.
Then with a flick of the wrist she was gone.