I. Very much enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you like it. Next chapter should be out on the 25th of October- time to start wrapping this baby up.
"So." The Mistress says, stepping back into the room.
The word is for nothing really but it still clears the anxiety that begins to collect in her chest. Bill stands from the seat she'd occupied, the closest to the door, and blushes deep red, breathing in quickly.
"We going?" The Time Lady asks, enjoying the expression on the human's face.
"Ah! Yeah! I'm just- glad they fit you." Bill splutters out, "They look good on you." She adds, a little more honestly.
The Mistress smiles, hearts beating faster than they should at the compliment.
It doesn't help that Bill's skin seems to glow in the dimness of the night cycle and the Mistress thinks of what it felt to hold her cheeks in her palms, so soft and warm and alive.
It doesn't help that the other woman's hair is pulled back so cleanly and neatly that the Mistress just wants to run her nails down through it to her scalp and hear the quiet noises that she is sure the human, Bill, would make.
"I can do your hair if you like?" Bill asks, the words seeming out of place given that they're about to try to wrest a whole planet free of mind control. She blushes further and backpedals immediately, leaning back with it, "Only if you don't want to do it yourself. I know you can-"
The Mistress sits on a stool close to her, turning so her back is to the human.
"Thank you." She says in invitation.
The Time Lady hears Bills steps across the tile and the soft thud and clatter as she drops the bags down near the chair.
She can hear her breathing soften, self aware, as the other woman winds practised fingers through her hair, pulls it gently, capturing every strand patiently and weaving them together.
Her hearts beat loudly as the sensation and she swallows, lips begging to touch Bill's. Her hands tremble and she shoves them into her lap, feeling every slight caress of nail against skin and the change of tension as Bill's grip tightens and slackens and tightens again.
Eventually her hair is done and she stands, smiling and consciously making the effort to relax the tension in her and her breathing.
She slips one of the bags onto her back, testing the weight briefly, and turns to face the other woman.
"Thank you, Bill." She whispers, lips curling at the corners.
"It's no problem!" Bill is quick to assure her, grabbing her own bag and meeting the Time Lady's gaze fleetingly, looking away again.
The Mistress can see the shudder of blood through the skin of her neck and breathes in and out heavily.
She strides away, towards the glass box that had been her home for years now.
"One last time?" She asks, giddiness almost making her laugh.
Bill shares the smile that paints the Mistress' own lips as she joins her, stands by her side.
"One last time." She promises. Her voice is light, breath caught.
It speaks of nerves and fear but of thrill too.
The door clicks shut.
Maybe they'll die, maybe they'll be trapped away. Still- that risk is worth it if they can save the world, if they can save the Doctor, if she can stand outside in the night air with Bill.
They stand, reflected in the glass.
The Mistress' eyes are tight with smiling and her lips quiver with excitement.
She turns to Bill and nods, her hearts beating very, very fast because they're going to do this- they're going to make this happen, leave this place.
"Ready?" Bill asks, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.
"Yes." Missy says, not thinking too much about the worries that go spidering through her brain with the question.
Somehow Bill knows this and squeezes her hand again.
They walk together towards the doors.
She wants this more than she's wanted anything in a time so long that she can't place the beginning of it.
Wanting to live was a necessity for survival but this- this need to get out, to save the Doctor, to help him, to be with Bill and to help her- to save the Doctor with her. This is all consuming.
It's like an itch ignored for too long only for you to look down and realise that you had in fact been bitten by a stray dog and should have got it checked out when you weren't confined to bed due to illness.
She thinks now that maybe she's wanted to do this for longer than she knew- wanted to help the Doctor without some kind of ulterior motive of being close to him, of twisting him to her viewpoint.
Perhaps it's what they've always been working towards.
Bill shares a smile with her and their hands part.
The Mistress looks closely at the doors which part silently into the darkness of a basement.
Light spills across concrete, their shadows spearing into the night outside.
Outside.
The Time Lady turns to Bill who is looking at her with gentle concern, a hand reaching out, ready to take hers if needed.
"Are you okay?" Bill asks, fingers wrapping carefully around her upper arm.
The Mistress feels the cool air touch her and breathes deeply, looking towards the stairs leading out of here, up, above the ground.
She says nothing but takes a step that feels heavy over the boundary between outside and inside.
She breathes out, nodding, words not coming.
"I'm going to close the doors, okay?" Bill tells her.
The Mistress nods again.
The doors shut heavily, sealing the vault, stealing the light.
They stand in the dark for a moment, just breathing. Bill's hand finds Missy's and she hums a short phrase, comfort.
They climb in silence, past broken and outdated things, grey, lumpy forms in the dark.
Thankfully the path is clear or Bill guides them well through the clutter and to the single door leading to outside.
There is a clearer breeze coming under that door, creeping through the keyhole, the Mistress can smell it, the livingness of it.
Bill takes the handle and pushes.
The Mistress steps out into shadows and a sky spilled with stars.
They seem to echo infinitely, patternless and beautiful and so bright that they rival the shard of moon hidden behind coming clouds.
There are trees and grass and gravel beneath her shoes and the Time Lady pulls in as much air as she can, smile stretching her face as she spins, filled with awe for everything, even the building that had housed her prison.
"Are you okay?" Whispers Bill.
The Mistress gasps, grinning, and looks at the woman standing in front of her, hands ready to hold her up, help her.
The Time Lady watches for a moment, the slide of light across her skin, the gentleness of her eyes, the slightest flare of her nostrils as she breathes, tense.
Then she kisses her before she is aware of what she is doing, arms wrapping under her arms and around her back, between the heavy bag and her shirt. Her nose is pressed into her face, against Bill's. It's warm and incredible and soft and the other woman leans back slightly, fingers on her hips.
The Mistress pulls away gently, wetting her lips, hearts beating too fast as she takes a step back, unsure whether she's flushing or pale but being glad that the human surely can't see it in these conditions.
"I'm-" She begins to say, her hearts all she can hear as the blood rushes in her head.
Bill pulls her in again, just as fiercely, palms warming the Time Lady's back through the clothes as she presses them together, thighs and chests and cheeks. A hand climbs to the back of the Mistress' neck and she parts her lips, unthinking.
She can catch at the edge of her mind Bill's own thoughts spilling out, a spiralling train of 'stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, what are you doing?' but mostly she feels Bill's tongue on her lips, against hers, along the roof of her mouth, wet and warm and distinctly wanted.
They part again and Bill's arms drop as she pushes away, heart beating so loudly that her pulse almost looks like it's jumping.
"Good luck, right?" Bill says, breathing heavily.
"Yeah." Missy says, confused and warm, brain spinning, "Yes. Good luck- that's all." She tells Bill, wanting so much more.
Bill smiles a little sadly and takes her hand.
"Well- time we were off, right?" She says.
The Mistress realises that she has said something both very correct and very false.
Still, she smiles.
"About time." She says.