Sympathy For The Devil

By AMysteriousWoman

A/N: I'll make this quick. Haven't posted in...a long time. Tags are: Doctor Who, Twelfth Doctor/Missy Friendship/Love-Hate Relationship. Slight SPOILERS For Season 10, Episode 10. Specifically, the last 8 minutes of it. I've kept this vague on purpose, though. Apologies for repetition, but it is intentional. Missy's very odd behavior lately fascinates & scares me. The Doctor's behavior towards Missy is also frankly, quite alarming. What follows are my musings on this subject at length, spoken in the 12th Doctor's voice. Any and all mistakes are my own, as I have no beta readers.

What is she up to? Really up to? What sort of game is she playing now? He thinks silently to himself as he watches her sashay ever closer to where he was standing next to the TARDIS consul.

Should he believe her? Should he believe those tears? Are they real? Or, as he mightily suspects, were they just crocodile tears?

Should he believe anything she says or claims to be feeling? Like guilt, for instance. As if she could. But then, maybe she does?

She seems to want to be free of it. Guilt. Sadness. But is it all for show? A show exclusively meant for him? He wouldn't put it past her. So he tells her as much. Shedding another tear, she whispers that it is. He supposes he should feel flattered.

She is brilliant, his Missy/The Master/whatever...she is a very clever girl, indeed. With very clever, (albeit deadly) ideas. As sharp as they come. Even for a Time Lord/Lady. He shivers a little. *Especially* for a Time Lord/Lady. Which makes her all the more dangerous.

Though, clearly not as clever or as brilliant as him, he thinks smugly, as he has defeated her time & time again. Nevertheless, he must hold his pride in check, simply *because* he knows her too well. She wanted to get caught all those times.

He definitely believed she wasn't lying when she claimed it was all done for him. She wanted-no, *needed* the attention...his attention, his affection, his kindness, his...forgiveness. No doubt she was single-minded in that regard.

But then, as far back as his faded memories of Gallifrey went, he seemed to recall that she'd always been the clingy sort.

But the real question had always been: WHY? Why is she being so nice to him now? After years of fighting, bickering, waging war, wreaking havoc?

What is her motivation? What is her ultimate goal? She always had ulterior motives. And usually, not the good kind.

He hated the fact that he had yet to figure out her plans. Oh, he could guess if he wanted...but if all this crying & talking, & playing nice *wasn't* for some evil plot...well, then what? That thought was even more dangerous...one he aught not ponder too much, but of course he did anyway.

Sometimes, so often these days, he realized he'd been letting his guard down with her more & more, for one simple reason: He realized he wanted to believe her. That she had turned over a new leaf since being captured & put under his close, personal supervision. (Ok...not so close, he admitted, since he'd been quite busy with Bill & Nardole lately.)

He even gave her little gifts as rewards for good behavior. The piano, for instance, was one such gift. 'A rather elegant, extravagant, & expensive gift', Nardole pointed out angrily to him when he saw it. 'A gift usually reserved for wives or girlfriends' he added, 'and -she-', he thrust a digit in Missy's direction, 'is NOT your wife! Or your girlfriend! Or even a friend!' He pointed at her again. '-THAT-is one of the most fiendish & most dangerous people in the universe!' Nardole had the decency after this outburst to nod, embarrassed, to Missy, adding in a squeaky voice, 'No offense', to which she replied in her soft silky voice, 'None taken'.

He wanted to believe her for once because of several reasons: she came in useful sometimes, for fixing things, or like the recent Mars incident; she was one of his species which means she knows things Nardole or Bill, or any of his companions cannot and/or will never know; he had a long-standing history with her, and she knows what it's like to *be* him, to know his way of life, she just didn't approve of his methods. (Nor he of hers, for obvious reasons, as it usually involved mass murder or manslaughter & mayhem.)

But the main reason he wanted to believe her was this: once upon a time, they had indeed been friends. And it's taken this long for him to finally realize how much he misses that friendship, and she claims that she does too. It seemed like one of the only things they could agree on.

So, little by little, day by day, he watched over her in that vault. Trapped inside a box, with all of her shame, guilt, sadness, anger, loneliness, & her boredom. With only he, Nardole, occasionally Bill, and just...time...and darkness...as her only company. And he knows how terrible a punishment it is & little by little, his own guilty conscience eats away at him inside.

'But try caging a wild lioness & see how well it goes for the one doing the caging,' he continues to think to himself, somewhat bemusedly. He knows that he can't keep her in the box, that it's only a matter of time before she escapes on her own, so he takes her out of the box. Puts her to work, he says, to placate Nardole & Bill, 'to keep her busy so she won't have time to plot anything else.' HA! Like that would stop her...

He converses with her every now and then, to alleviate her boredom, and his, if he's being honest with himself. Baby-sitting the human race, especially on a day like today, telling those Scottish kids & legionnaires to 'Grow the hell up!' was very draining on his mental & physical faculties.

They would still fight & bicker about everything under the sun, she would occasionally throw something at him out of anger and he would easily duck out of the way and then she'd start sulking...and he would relent and eventually agree to replace the broken item. Or he would bring in a book to read as she stared off into space for hours at a time, not saying a word to each other, but with a single glance, she would tell him when she'd gotten bored of his presence & wanted him to leave...and then he'd silently go.

This was all fine. This was normal. This he could deal with. This was their new routine, she & him, dancing around each other, waiting & wondering when the other one would blink first.

No, see, the moments that stuck with him, -that truly vexed & troubled him-the moments where she got under his skin were these, the quiet ones; like this moment, the way she looked at him right now...the way her eyes pleaded with him to *see her*, and only her...those sharp, cunning, ruthless, cold green eyes...they were wet and open and so very raw. It scared him to see it all written there, in Missy's eyes. His friend-made-enemy. Missy. Formerly The Master. Crying. Crying and confused. Like she'd never even contemplated the act before...like it wasn't even possible for her to do something so...human.

He has asked her before about the people she killed. Her reaction was...surprising, to say the least. Her face would frown, & her entire demeanor changed from sassy to serious in no time at all. Her voice, usually so bold & crass, turned to whisper...and a few solitary tears fell on her proud cheekbones...she swallowed a few times & stare off before answering him. But the Doctor was a patient man this time around, & so, he waited for her to reply in due time. He eventually got an answer choked out of her...

What is she up to? What does she really want with me & this TARDIS? What does she want *from* me, looking at me with those eyes?

Those eyes that seem to say, 'I'm sorry. So very, very sorry for what I did to you. Please forgive me.' But more than that, they said, 'I miss you.'

And that-THAT-is what scared him the most. In those moments, he found that he felt sorry for her to the point where he almost forgave her; which ultimately means SHE HAS ALREADY WON.

Even though, everything inside of him was screaming at him to not trust her. To let allow her to trick him into sympathy or empathy. That he would be the greatest fool in the universe for believing in her. The problem is, of course, that he is a great fool when it comes to matters of mercy.

He has always been the wiser one. The kinder one. The more forgiving, compassionate one. And nobody knows it like her.

He finds he simply cannot help himself. He has to keep her around. He *wants* to keep her around. To see what she does next. To see if she can 'turn good' after all, if it is indeed possible. (That, and he made a bet with Nardole. Nardole, for his part, thinks he is being 'a sentimental idiot'.)

But one day soon, she will grow bold again. She will see something she likes, and she'll want it so badly, it will be too hard for her to resist. And then, like every single time before, she will cause a disaster that he will be forced to clean up...and the consequences that follow will be terrible & lingering. And it will only confirm everything Nardole & Bill have continued to warn him about...that she has not changed at all.

And the disappointment he will feel on that day will be all the more devastating to him. As the saying goes: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me a million times...well...that's just it. She has. Too many times to count.

So where does that leave them on the great scoreboard of good and evil? Who is winning? Who is losing? Are they perhaps, dead even now? Does it even matter anymore? He feels this game has grown so tiresome, and that he is getting weary from it all. This constant tug of war over power...it never ends well for either side. At this point, they both have blood on their hands. They both have knowingly sent people off to their deaths. They have more in common than they both care to admit.

But that's exactly what she's doing now...admitting it. Out loud. In little pieces. When they are all alone like this, she act as though she adores him.

Still, he can deny her some things. Her freedom, if necessary. His own feelings, absolutely.

He can maintain his cold, detached, scientific composure as long as he likes and when everyone else is watching.

But the more time he spends with this newer, more humble, contrite version of the devil he once knew, he swears, he can feel the cracks in his steely facade splitting open to reveal his troubled and confused mind underneath.

She always loved to get under his skin...and today, she's working over-time to make sure she does. Her performance right now is impressive, he'll grant her that much. He tells her so.

She is asking why she is crying. He tells her he doesn't know why. He tells her he thinks he knows what she wants of him...to become friends again. And as he does, he notices how much she wants to grasp his hands, how much she has to hold herself back from the gesture.

But as he stands here in front of her, for the briefest of seconds that feels like eternity, as he looks into those green eyes he knows so well now, he gives in to a fleeting impulse. He indulges her by taking her hands gently, and tenderly, reverently placing his hands over hers, in what he hopes is a friendly way...it's a peace offering.

He dares to hope against hope that he can trust her. That she means all that she says. For a moment.

But then, he remembers that he can't. And shouldn't.

So he lets their hands fall. As all her own hopes do the same.

"But that's the trouble with hope. It's hard to resist." -12th Doctor to Missy, S10, E10, "The Eaters of Light"