Next chapter is on the 22nd of August.
The Doctor takes advantage of what he most likely thinks is a distraction to attempt to tiptoe over to Bill and almost grab her hands, warmth and guilt and pride and love mirrored in his eyes and from his mind even as he changes it at last minute, lets his hands hovering between them, unwilling to make the contact itself.
The Master rolls his eyes at it, sneering, Missy does too until she feels the creeping tendril of amusement from her own companion as if she'd leant her head on her shoulder.
The Mistress supposes that she could perhaps see the sweetness of the Doctor's care for Bill, words which reach Florence as more concept that thought but it's enough that the Time Lady can feel her companion laughing in their heads, the slight smile that she couldn't hide if she was being looked at and the loosening of tension she feels though she is still wary, mind fixated on the Master's every move so close to them.
Instead of taking the human's hands the Doctor sits down beside her, an inch or so between their thighs.
"How are you feeling, Bill Potts?" The Doctor murmurs. The Master fakes gagging from his own spot in the room and Nardole scowls at him, not out of solidarity with Bill or the other Time Lord but mostly because he can't help but be suspicious of the one who has put them in this whole mess and also sometimes been a bit of a general nuisance.
"Uh, my head hurts, I guess?" Bill replies, in contrast to the Doctor, very, very aware that everyone's eyes are on them.
The Time Lord nods, frowning a little.
"Are you sure you don't want some tea?" he asks, "sometimes that stuff can work wonders. Best invention of the human race. Nardole can make you some." The alien continues, trying to persuade her.
Bill glances around to everyone else, sheepishly meeting Nardole's gaze who looks very, very reticent about the idea of having to make her tea, face twisting in a very sour way.
The human grins awkwardly.
"Uh, I'm good but maybe later? You all seem kind of busy right now." Bill says, pulling the excuse from the air and wincing a little at it. She attempts to make it into a smile.
It's enough for the Doctor though who smiles back softly, pats her hand once, and then stands, beginning to pace again.
The decision is eventually made to start barricading the house.
"A good defense is a good place to start." Nardole says slowly, stroking his chin.
"It would be a good way to keep the kids in sight," Florence adds, "cybermen and children are never a good mix." She frowns a little.
The Mistress' mind pricks at hers for reassurance that she hadn't somehow put Florence's own children in that kind of danger and the woman feels a slight flush of guilt for not thinking of the Time Lady's currently rather precarious mental state when she spoke. She clarifies quickly with a handful of memories from their time together, whole worlds taken by the cybermen, the few horrific instances of seeing how they went from converting adults to the elderly to teenagers to children.
Beneath the table the Mistress reaches for her companion's hand, squeezes it. Florence squeezes back.
"Great!" The Doctor says, clapping his hands as his plan comes together, "we can say it's a game!" He's grinning, eyes twinkling like nobody's life is at stake here and certainly not the children themselves.
"It'll keep them entertained and not too far from the house, perfect!" He says and then pauses, turning to Hazran and smiling in a way that is meant to be deferentially but comes across as far more close to the sliminess of a politician.
The woman frowns but nods.
"Yes, that's quite alright. I can go tell the kids now." She says, sipping at her tea with an eyebrow raised.
The Doctor grins
"Excellent! Nardole, go with her." He says.
Nardole huffs but does as he's told and Hazran makes no complaint, nodding in acknowledgement of him.
As soon as they have passed from the room and the sound of footsteps going down the stairs echoes back to them Bill leans forwards a little from her seat, hand coming up to her head as she winces a little.
"Was that a good idea?" She asks, face wrinkling, "because it didn't feel like one to me." The human adds.
"What do you mean?" The Doctor asks, immediate concern dropping over his expression like a stage curtain cut loose with no safety.
The Master laughs, an obnoxiously loud and deliberate thing. He leans on the mantelpiece, sneering at the Doctor gleefully.
"Hate to agree with a human but I think it has a point. What's metal boy even going to do? Put the humans in time out if they don't work fast enough? Tell them they've been naughty? The one you sent with him seems like she could do that just fine by herself." He scoffs, almost smiling from the pleasure of getting to insult someone, as if he didn't do that constantly.
"I meant-" Bill emphasises, "- that Nardole doesn't seem to like children or humans. Surely it's a bad idea to send him to deal with human children?" She asks, glaring as pointedly as she dares at the Master.
The Doctor grins then.
"Yes." He says, "Yes, exactly. This is a learning opportunity. Surely if Nardole actually interacts with humans in a positive way he'll realise how important the are outside of-"
The Time Lord never gets to finish what he says as there's a clatter, a distinctly Nardolian yelp, and what seems to be the start of a lecture on basic balance.
The Mistress titters, leaning back in her chair so that it stands on two legs, nose wrinkled in mirth.
"Yes- what an excellent test. This is all going so well for you, my dearest Doctor." She teases.
The Doctor looks to Florence plaintively and the companion just tilts her head a little, holding back a smile.
"I'm only here to look after the Mistress." She says, rejecting his silent cry for some kind of support or help.
The Doctor puts his head in his hands.
As seeing more cybermen is an inevitability at this point and no amount of trying to keep the children contained to the house and surrounding ten meters is going to work forever, especially when the cybermen start marching up the front steps, their only solution seems to find a way up and out, back to the tardis where they can, hopefully, safely fix everything somehow.
The Doctor keeps Bill by his side, monitoring her closely for any signs of lingering harm from hitting her head and ensuring that she sits and rests whenever she shows the first sign of tiredness, much to the woman's chagrin.
As the Time Lord refuses to put his companion in the path of danger again that means he too is confined to the house and his attempts to boost morale, offering jelly babies to the children and otherwise generally making a nuisance of himself by disrupting the very task that he gave them.
This leaves the Mistress, the Master and Florence to scout the woods, looking for some kind of lift or perhaps the concealed doorway to some rather convenient stairs.
The Doctor is offering sweets from a small paper bag to one of the younger children from the porch when they leave, gently encouraging him to take a jelly baby.
His efforts are not ruined but perhaps squashed a little by the flash of Missy's hand as she snatches a small handful of the powdered gummies from the bag, sighing loudly and saying that the boy should be faster next time.
Suitably intimidated the child gets back to work and the Doctor frowns at the Time Lady, eyebrows descending to match his lips.
"You know that was a bad thing, right?" The Time Lord asks her as she bites the head off of one of the babies and chews.
"It's fine, you have more," she says, waving the issue off with her other, non-occupied hand as Florence in turn pilfers a sweet from Missy, "besides we're about to do an even more important task for you. What if we died of starvation on the journey? These gummy bears could save our lives, you know?" The Time Lady lectures with a faux-seriousness which the Doctor just about manages to latch onto awareness of.
He sighs.
"They're jelly babies, not gummy bears," he corrects her, "and it's the thought that matters, not the outcome, Missy. It doesn't matter how many jelly babies I have because I was offering them to the child, not you. You won't starve that quickly anyway. I know you know how to survive off of almost nothing." The Doctor says tiredly.
"Well I suppose I'll have to find the elevator then to be worthy of your precious sweets." The Mistress singsongs, half ridiculing him but with the faintest trace of frustration which seeps from her mind before she closes it off, already down the porch steps and passing the sandbag wall which is slowly coming together, jelly babies shoved deep into one of her pockets, a smear of powdered sugar marking the fabric above it.
The Master snickers, following Missy who is twirling her umbrella as if she were a very distracted cheerleader.
Florence sighs at the Time Lord, looking between him and the two walking off in the direction of the woods for a moment.
"You know that she's trying, right? You really shouldn't be so hard on her for things which don't hurt anyone. You too could learn to be kinder to people who are on your level, not just those who are below you." She says.
The Doctor is floored for a moment and the companion takes that moment to hop down the stairs and break into a slight jog to catch up with her Mistress and their unfortunate tagalong.
"What do you mean? I-" The Doctor shouts, distress catching his face as he processes what Florence said and looks down at his hands, the mist of gold which seeps from them.
He shakes his hands, clears it away.