The next chapter will be on the 19th of June.
Florence lets the Mistress pin the hat back in place and slip the coat over her shoulders again. She wears the scarf in a bow around her own neck now, the cameo brooch securely at the hollow of Missy's throat. It's still not quite right but it's a step towards it.
She helps pin the Time Lady's hair up, smoothing it slightly though she can't remember it having been this curly the last time she had done this. The small heap of pins which had been deep inside her pockets help a lot.
"So it's going to be simple. An in and out mission of some kind. Something small- easy enough that he can control the damage if I. Mess up." The Mistress clarifies, painting her nails with a bottle that Florence had snagged from her long ago and forgotten about until she'd pulled it out of her pocket only minutes ago.
She sounds like she's deliberating, trying to decide how beneath her the trip will be.
Florence scoffs at the obvious lead, pinning down another stubborn curl.
"We both know you have more self-control than that, Mistress. It's a trip outside- with me. And we'll get to have a little bit of fun I'm sure. I know that you want to go outside anyway and you're being awkward because you know that they want you to try it." She points out, pulling another curl back and smoothing it over with her hand before pinning it too.
The Mistress prods at her mind but it means nothing. Teasing, affection, mockery.
"Fine." She says in actual words, standing up as Florence pats her shoulder to tell her she done, eyes still glued to her nails as she paints the last one, screws the lid on the bottle and shakes her hands so that they dry quicker.
"We'll go have some fun."
Despite the Doctor's enthusiasm, Bill's curiosity and the fact that Florence is there as Missy's handler, so to speak, Nardole still seems distinctly unimpressed by the whole situation presented to him.
"Sir. I still think this is a very bad idea." He complains as the Doctor browses distress calls at a touchscreen on the consol.
"Shush, Nardole. Go be annoying somewhere else." He dismisses him, waving his hand as if he were some kind of irritating fly rather than someone who has been living with him for around fifty years now.
He glares at the Mistress as he passes, heading out into the corridor.
"I'm watching you." He warns, waving his finger, "One false move and I'll take you down faster than when you trip down the stairs." The cyborg threatens in a way which completely fails to be intimidating.
Then he turns and is gone.
Bill, who has been standing around watching and trying not to look like she's ecstatic about this whole foray, turns to Florence, the safer and more human option.
"Soooooooo…" She says, folding her arms and rocking back onto her heels, "The Doctor said that you're old friends but how long have you been together?"
Florence thinks that the girl must not have very good preservation instincts.
She blinks a few times but the Mistress comes to the rescue, spinning in the chair she's decided is hers now.
"Far longer than you could conceive of in your tiny little human mind." She drawls, smiling a little despite herself at the fun of being allowed out again and to interact with new people.
Bill blinks and Florence sighs at the inevitable barrage of questions and decides that the best option is to go and peruse the books on the shelves and let the Mistress answer them.
She likes Bill but not enough for that.
"But I thought that Florence was a human. How can she remember it if I can't think about it? How could she even last that long? We only live for like, eighty years."
"A combination of training, playing with some old technology and physical upgrades." Missy answers, "Things have a surprising millage when you repair them." She says, tapping her nails against the armrest.
The Doctor stops what he's doing, looking at the Mistress, aghast.
"You did what?" He asks, voice quiet and fist clenched on the keyboard as he looks away, down again, at the bottom of the screen. Bill grimaces.
"So like- is she even human anymore?" She asks, nerves creeping into her tone from the Doctor's reaction.
"Like you can judge- you've left messed up people everywhere, Doctor. At least I managed to keep her safe and with me for-" Her voice catches and she stops, looking at Florence as if to check that she's still there, "a long time." She finishes, softer.
The Doctor says nothing, going pale, his lips pressed together as he resumes scrolling.
"I am." Florence says, returning to Missy's side, certain as she lets her legs brush the Time Lady's.
Bill reads the tone of the room and falls quiet, going to look over the Doctor's shoulder at the screen though she can't read any of the information.
"Let's go and find you a hat." Florence offers. She takes the Mistress' arm and pulls her up. Her fingers intertwine with her companions, squeezing hard.
"I'm not leaving." Florence murmurs and then louder, "Where is the wardrobe on this ship?"
"You have a wardrobe?" Bill asks.
The Doctor groans.
Several hours later the Mistress, having selected a hat with half a dead bird on it as a fashionable accessory to go alongside her umbrella, having changed her boots three times and her shirt once, Florence, having found a much more suited pair of trousers and a nice pair of flat boots in case they have some running to do, and Bill, having tried on a ridiculously loud coat and taken some selfies wearing everything loud she could find in the wardrobe (which is a lot considering the room is more of a snowdrift of clothing than an actual wardrobe), are finally ready to go.
The Doctor and Nardole have been ready to get this over with, the Doctor's not pessimistic but instead quite eager to see how his best friend does in what could be a very challenging situation for her, Nardole carrying enough pessimism for all of them, for a good two hours by the time the girls emerge from the wardrobe.
"You would not believe the ridiculous coat I found in there!" Bill laughs, "You really should have a clear out." The Doctor says nothing but does turn an interesting shade of red.
"So. Ready to go?" He asks when his face has returned to a normal colour.
"Ready as we'll ever be." Drawls Missy at the same time as Nardole sighs it, much to his frustration.
Florence smiles.
"Yeah." She says quietly, squeezing the Mistress' hand as Bill clears the plan with the Doctor again.
There's a worried expression on her face and Florence thinks that she hears the human ask the Doctor to promise her something.
"Yeah." The Time Lady agrees to her, softly.
She squeezes her hand back.
The Mistress steps out and Florence can't help but smile, like a fan watching their favourite actor from the wings.
"Hello." She says, grinning and twirling her umbrella, "I'm Doctor Who."
The Time Lady gestures for the invisible audience, bowing.
"And these." She flings her arms upwards and Florence takes the cue, stepping out of the tardis too, Bill following and Nardole sullenly and reluctantly walking out behind them.
"These are my plucky assistants. Lucky, Crayola and Egg. Note that there are three. This will become important later in the show." She points out, pointing at them in turn.
Nardole rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, like a teenager just asked to clean their room.
"It's Bill and Nardole- you know our names. You certainly know hers given the way you-" He complains, cutting off with a disgusted look as the Mistress puts a hand over his mouth.
"Now. There's no space for rudeness on this show." She pouts, "Who knows if there are children watching?" The Time Lady says, waving and winking at the closest camera she can find.
"Now." She continues, taking her hand back and wiping it on her coat with a grimace, "Where was I?"
Florence could cry with laughter as the Time Lady pulls out a very worn looking wad of completely plain paper and flicks through it for a few seconds before sighing melodramatically, rolling her eyes, completely losing posture, half-heartedly tossing it over her shoulder where it scatters in front of herself, Bill and Nardole.
"Well that's a load of rubbish- seems like I'll have to make this up as I go along." She complains before straightening up again and dusting her hands.
"Welcome to Doctor Who. The show where we pick up your distress call," she curls her hand into a fist, pinkie finger and thumb extending outwards to mimic a very old fashioned phone which she holds to the side of her head, "solve your meaningless little problem," she mimes typing at a computer, "make you dependent on a higher power," the Time Lady crosses herself, looking upwards with a pious expression which Florence doubts anyone ever has or will ever see again on the woman's face, "and then disappear."
She smiles, sickly sweet, at the camera.