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The TARDIS landed with a gentle thump. Or, more accurately, the TARDIS landed with such force that poor Ryan was thrown into a glowing orange pillar with an almighty crash and a groan. The Doctor pulled a face and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ at him as she flung herself around the console pressing random buttons while the TARDIS wheezed and clanged around her. 

“Don’t worry,” said the Doctor. She reached over her head to ring a cowbell that most certainly had not been there thirty seconds ago and then stumbled back to escape sparks of brilliant white light. “It’s meant to do that!” 

From his own position at the other side of the room (he’d found some handy handles etched into the wall a few weeks earlier) Graham rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother disputing the fact with her. They’d had this argument more times than he cared to count at this point. He didn’t know if there was such a thing as a TARDIS driving test, but if there was he had never been more convinced that she’d failed the damn thing at least three times over. 

It took just another minute of frantic yelping and empty assurances that things were going entirely according to plan for the TARDIS to finally settle down. The lights evened out and Graham finally felt safe enough to loosen his death grip on the wall. He flexed his aching fingers and breathed in deeply to calm his erratic heartbeat. 

“Well,” said the Doctor, trying and failing to blow some sweaty strands of hair away from her face. “That was an adventure.” 

Ryan picked himself up off the floor and scowled. “And what’s the chances we’re actually back in Sheffield?” 

“Uh…” The Doctor leaned over the console, brows furrowed. “We’re Sheffield…adjacent?” 

“Sheffield adjacent?” asked Yaz dubiously. “What does that mean?”

The Doctor waved a hand behind her head. “If you travel a bit that way…a few hundred-billion miles or so…you’ll be in the same uh…quadrant of the Universe as Sheffield.” 

“Doctor!” 

“Sorry, Yaz.” 

Graham let out a bone-weary sigh as he made his way over to where Ryan was still brushing himself off. Funny how the TARDIS always seemed to go haywire whenever they asked for some time off to recuperate at home. At times he suspected the Doctor was doing it on purpose, and he knew Yaz did too, but she always seems so sincere when pleading her innocence that no matter how improbable it sounded, Graham couldn’t help but believe her. 

“You all right, son?” he said quietly. Ryan nodded with no small amount of frustration. Graham understood; keeping his balance could be difficult at the best of times, let alone when they were exhausted and their mad friend was throwing them all around the room. Who knew teleportation could be such a bumpy ride?

“That’s weird,” said the Doctor, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of her. Graham felt a prickle of irritation. The Doctor thinking something was weird was never a good sign. “I know this planet.” 

“Nice planet, is it?” said Graham.

“I’m betting no,” said Ryan.

“It’s…fine,” said the Doctor, clearly puzzled. “Nothing really here though. Not this year anyway. Some fields. Now, wait another couple thousand years and the hanar get here to colonise the-” 

“Doctor,” said Yaz. 

“-which isn’t important right now,” said the Doctor. Yaz shook her head in fond exasperation. “So why have you brought me here, old girl?” 

“You best not be talking to me there,” said Yaz. 

The Doctor shot her an incredulous look. “I’m talking to the TARDIS.” Yaz pursed her lips, but said nothing else as the Doctor continued to mumble to herself. Then she slammed a hand down on the console, making Graham jump. “Right, fam. Just gotta check this out really quickly and then I’ll get you back to Sheffield in time for tea.”

“You said that a week ago,” Graham pointed out. 

“Nah, that doesn’t sound right,” said the Doctor. “Can’t have been a week.” She had already donned her coat again and Graham was in half a mind to just stay in the TARDIS. It was an empty threat though and the Doctor would know it, so he just sighed and followed Ryan and Yaz to the doors. 

To his surprise, the planet was actually as the Doctor had described it. He looked around, seeing nothing but empty fields of browning grass beneath a sky of orange and faded pinks. In front of him, the Doctor had already pulled out her sonic screwdriver and was waving it about in the air. 

“Doctor,” said Ryan. 

The Doctor spun around and then dropped her arm to her side. “Huh,” she said. Graham turned around and startled. 

Just a few metres behind the TARDIS against the backdrop of two golden suns, stood a tall, white cylinder with a door on it. That, however, wasn’t the strangest blight upon the otherwise barren landscape. In front of the object sat a woman, dark hair piled into a wild, messy bun atop her head and plum Victorian-style skirts spread around her in disarray. 

“She was not there a second ago,” said Yaz, already moving towards the sitting woman. 

The Doctor wasn’t paying attention. Her sonic fell to the ground and she took off at a sprint, brushing past Yaz. Graham and Ryan exchanged a look. That wasn’t normal. 

“Missy?” 

The Doctor’s voice was quiet, reverent almost. She dropped to her knees and reached out with her hands before changing her mind and pulling them back to fall limply at her sides. 

The woman looked up, unseeing and confused. Now that Graham was closer he could see her more clearly. Her skin was all but translucent and stretched thin over high cheekbones. Under her empty, almost alarmingly pale blue eyes were dark lines that made Graham wince in sympathy. She seemed uninjured, but somehow crumpled and unwell. The Doctor threw out an arm to stop them from moving any closer.

“Missy?” the Doctor repeated, this time more firmly. Was that a hint of anger, Graham could detect?

The woman opened her mouth and then closed it again. She tilted her head to one side and licked her lips. “Who’s Missy?”

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped and the woman blinked up at her.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, silly goose. I’m getting it now. Just...need a moment. Post-regeneration. You know what that can do to a girl.”

Scottish, Graham thought, or maybe she was ‘Scottish’ in the same way that the Doctor was ‘from Yorkshire’. 

“Post-regeneration,” the Doctor repeated faintly. 

The woman, Missy, looked up sharply. “Oh, Doctor. It’s you, isn’t it?” Her lips curled up into something that might have resembled a smile were it not for the row of sharp, gleaming teeth. Graham felt himself shiver. Then her face fell and she punched a fist into the dull, sepia grass. “Oh gosh golly darn it. This isn’t right.”

Graham cast a glance at the Doctor and was more than surprised to see a glassy sheen across her eyes. 

“You’re here out of order, Doctor. So rude,” said Missy. The Doctor offered her a weak smile. “I thought we were better than that. Timelines timelines shmimelines. Supposed to be good at them, aren’t we? I mean it’s in the name. Time Lorrrrrds. Not like that dreadful wife of yours.” The Doctor’s smile fell. “Shows up whenever she wants without so much as a by your leave. Zero sense of decorum.”

“Wife?” said Yaz. 

Missy coughed and curled her knees up to her chest. “They kicked me out, would you believe? Me! Of all people.” Then she cackled, high and erratic. “But fear not! I’m plotting my revenge as we speak. Revenge is a little bit sexy, don’t you think? All I need is a pocket full of sand and my traditional plucky can-do attitude. After I’ve had my apricot jam, of course.” 

Apricot jam? What on earth...

“Kicked you out of where?” said the Doctor. Missy’s eyes glazed over. “Missy? Who kicked you out.” The Doctor reached forward and laid a hand on her knee. Missy jumped and looked at the hand reproachfully. 

“No touchy, dearest. Or I might bite that pretty hand of yours right off,” she said, and somehow Graham believed her. But rather than let go, the Doctor squeezed her knee. “Oh all right. You can.” She huffed in a faux child-like way. “Just because it’s you though.” Then she offered the Doctor an exaggerated wink.

The Doctor’s responding smile was entirely humourless. “How did you regenerate?”

“I don’t remember.” 

The noise the Doctor made then was sceptical. “You don’t remember?”

Missy’s gaze drifted off to somewhere behind the Doctor’s head. “There was a...very scary lady.” 

It would have been impossible not to notice the way the Doctor stiffened at that. Her hand slipped from Missy’s skirts and rested on the ground as she leaned back. It obviously meant more to the Doctor than it did to anybody else in that field. As far as Graham was concerned it would be difficult for Missy to have stumbled upon a woman more frightening than herself. There was something inherently unsettling about that vacant stare and the cruel slant to her mouth. 

“I was...in the woods,” said Missy, not noticing the Doctor’s sudden distance. “She…stabbed me?” An icy chill ran down Graham’s back. Who the hell was this woman? Then, Missy laughed, and the chill spread further. It was strained and grating, but definitely a laugh. “I got her back though. Laser screwdriver...was a right old pow wow! No more regenerations for her. I use a brolly instead now.”

The Doctor’s face had become sheet white. She cleared her throat. “She was a Time Lord?”

Missy seemed confused. “I didn’t say that.” 

“All right.” The Doctor sighed and leaned forward, this time missing the woman’s knee and taking her hand instead. Missy looked down at their now entwined fingers and her lip trembled, eyes suddenly glossy. 

“We haven’t held hands like this for lifetimes,” said Missy, mystified. “Do we do that now? Are you my boyfriend, Doctor? How disgustingly human of us.” 

“Maybe one day, Missy,” said the Doctor. Blonde hair covered her face from view. “You and me together. It’s all we’ve ever wanted, isn’t it?”

“My name isn’t Missy yet.” 

“No,” the Doctor agreed. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Missy nodded slowly. “Because I won’t remember any of this.”

“No.”

“I can already feel it slipping away,” said Missy. She blinked and looked at the Doctor’s TARDIS and for a long moment nobody said anything. Graham wasn’t even sure if Missy was still with them. Then her eyes swivelled back to the Doctor’s. “You’re always here for me when I need you.”

“No I’m not,” said the Doctor.

“And you never have been,” Missy suddenly snapped. “Soon, perhaps?” 

“Maybe.”

Missy’s expression became mocking and she pulled the Doctor towards her. Balance only just maintained, the Doctor all but toppled forwards as Missy pressed a hand to her cheek. “You’re usually a better at lying than this.” 

“New body. New face. Still working myself out, like you. I think I’m...different this time around,” said the Doctor. She spoke quietly, like she didn’t want any of them to hear her. Graham didn’t even need to look back to know that Yaz and Ryan were just as confused as he was. 

Missy hummed, eyes roving over the Doctor’s face. Then, she let out a bark of a laugh. “Nope.” Her mouth popped on the ‘p’. “You always think that and you’re always wrong .” Missy flicked her nose and the Doctor jerked away. “All it’ll take is applied force to the right pressure points and...” She pushed hard against the Doctor’s shoulders and she fell backwards with an oof . Missy’s smile darkened. “Oh you and I are going to have a lot of fun this go around, aren’t we?”

“One of us is,” said the Doctor, disgruntled. Yaz rushed to help her back to her feet but was brushed aside with a quick, “I’m all right.”

For the first time, Missy dragged her attention away from the Doctor, and as much as it usually galled Graham to be ignored he suddenly wished they could all fade back into obscurity. Pale blue eyes pinned him to the spot. “I see you brought some of your disposables out to play today. More of them than usual.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Just ignore her, Yaz,” said the Doctor.

“Couldn’t you have just cracked open a window on the TARDIS for them?” said Missy. “Or were you worried the wee mites might piddle on the floor?” 

Graham felt his mouth drop open. “Nice one, this friend of yours, Doc.” 

“And we’re done here,” said the Doctor, abruptly pushing herself to her feet.

“You’re just going to leave me?” said Missy, clutching a fist to her chest as though mortally wounded. “Alone and helpless?” 

“You’ll be fine.” 

“Yes, I suppose you would know.” 

At that, the Doctor paused. She turned back to the woman, still sat on the ground and her shoulders seemed to sag under a weight that Graham couldn’t even begin to understand. He wished he had even the faintest idea of what was going on. He also sort of wished that the Doctor would follow through with her threat and let them all leave. 

Then the Doctor dropped back to her knees and took Missy’s face in her hands. Her grey coat fanned around her, framed by crunchy, brown grass that seemed to be getting darker by the minute. 

“Don’t be such a tease, dearest,” said Missy, with a sharp grin. 

The Doctor bowed her head forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Missy’s lips. Behind him, Graham heard his two young friends make almost identical noises of distressed confusion. 

When the Doctor pulled back, the look on Missy’s face was completely unidentifiable. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and wariness. 

“Be good, Missy,” said the Doctor, voice laden with regret. 

There was a beat that lasted just a fraction too long. “And what would be the fun in that?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”