The woman who Bill's been told has slaughtered countless people sits across from her, legs crossed over a red chair. Shades, colored with the dark brown of a dying tree, are behind the woman, as she calming watches Bill. Dark blue eyes peer into the scope of Bill's crossbow, not even afraid that Bill might pull the trigger. The weapon comes straight from Nardole, or rather stolen from Nardole. All it would take is one pull of Bill's finger, and two bolts of plasmic energy rushes through Missy. Missy isn't scared, however. If anything, she seems amused.
"Hello, Billy Goat. Welcome back to my den," purred the woman. She bats her eyes casually.
Bill gives a nod of agreement. It's hard to remember that technically, Bill has all the power here. She's got the weapon, and Missy would never hurt the Doctor's companion. Missy's on the good foot now.
"He calls you a friend. Something," said Bill. It's understood who "he" is. It's the only man worth talking about. He was the one who drew Bill's gaze toward the vault, and it was his insistence on not telling him who was in it that drew her inside.
Missy leans off the chair. She taps her fingers together, as if contemplating her statement.
"You want to know whether he is my friend?" asks Missy.
"You're sort of a certified sociopath-" starts Bill.
"Please don't ever call me that again," says Missy sharply. Her tapping has gotten louder, and it's getting on Bill's nerves. That's almost certainly intentional, though Bill won't let it show.
"But it's true," says Bill. She tells herself she won't let herself be cowed by Missy. Annoyingly, her heart still jumps a beat when Missy leaps off the chair. (Fortunately) Missy is just stretching her legs, and walks around the room while she continues talking.
"Not because it isn't true. But because it's banal. You aren't the first to call me that. And you, frankly, aren't deserving to call me that. If we're going to get anywhere with these lectures, we need to get past the banalities," says Missy.
"Lectures? These aren't lectures," says Bill.
"Oh? Would you prefer liaisons, my young billy goat?" says Missy.
"I'm just trying to understand you. I'm trying to understand how someone could kill so many people," said Bill.
"That's easy. I am the Master. Those people did not deserve to leave, because I said so," says Missy.
"That's inhumane," says Bill.
"That's life. There are the strong and then there are the—oh god, I sound like a boring Darwinian. Rewind on that, please!" says Missy. In a flash, her attitude changes.
"Do you even have a reason?" says Bill.
"Maybe I've never needed one," says Missy. Although Missy seems to be baring her feelings, Bill has the suspicion this might be a ruse, perhaps a calculated ploy to count on her empathy. She fastens her grip on her crossbow.
"I don't know why you point that drasted thing at me. If I wanted to kill you, I would have stabbed you with the red pen I hypnotized you into bringing me last time," says Missy.
"Red pen?" asks Bill.
Missy holds up a red pen. It's Bill's red pen, that she hasn't been able to find since last week. Bill blinks at this, and as the implications hit her, she backs away from Missy unconsciously.
"See? I think we're beginning to understand each other!" says Missy.
She throws the pen at Bill, who catches it. Missy shrugs, and says "I wouldn't kill you. I like you. You're not the smartest student, but you have enthusiam. I like it."
"Student? I'm pointing a weapon at you," says Bill.
"My dear billy goat, that was lesson one."
Later on that night, after Bill skulks away from Missy's vault, like she's doing the Walk Of Shame from a one-night stand, she thinks about what Missy has said. Were these lectures? Bill had arrived the first time out of curiosity, but kept on returning for...something else. Was she fascinated by the Master? Or was it morbid desire to know what drove that crooked mind?
And when Bill comes back next week, Missy is waiting.
