When the Mistress found out about the Doctor and Ms. Grant's escape from their Auton troops, it was reasonable to say she was disappointed. She had so been looking forward to seeing her old friend again. And making him suffer.
Thankfully, she had her Master to comfort her. Wrapping a steady arm around her shoulder, he brought her into his side and planted a kiss on her head. "Not to worry, my dear. We'll see him soon. In this incarnation or another," he promised, before planting another kiss. At his voice the Mistress found herself smiling softly, trying hard to focus on when they'd next meet their old friend, rather than the chance that had just slipped through their fingers.
They were both stood by the window, looking thoughtfully out. The Mistress's head resting on the Master's shoulder, when Mr. Farrel entered the office. "Colonel? Mistress? I'm afraid to inform you that the Autons that were sent to recover the Doctor and the girl–"
"Have returned without them," cut in the Master as he looked back over his shoulder at Mr. Farrel. Not wanting to move and disturb the Mistress as she leaned against him. "We already know."
"And you're not angry?" asked a startled Mr. Farrel, who'd obviously been excepting a different reaction. And had he come barging in a few minutes prior, he might well have gotten his angry response. But now, the Master was calm and the Mistress was fighting of the last of her disappointment as she straightened up. Suddenly finding herself filled with a determination to move on with their plan.
"No, not angry," answered the Mistress as she turned around to face Mr. Farrel, a fresh cunning smile on her lips. "Disappointed yes. I was looking forward to seeing him after all."
"He's an interesting adversary," added the Master thoughtful, almost as if he didn't realise he was talking out loud. "I admire him in many ways."
"But you still intend to destroy him?" pressed Mr. Farrel.
"Not necessarily," replied the Master. "After all, if we did that, our game would be over for good."
"Killing him is an option though," pointed out the Mistress with a knowing look to her fellow Time Lord, as she steadily tapped her chin.
"Quite," agreed the Master. "But complete destruction? Only if we had to."
"We'd much rather have him in our clutches, make him suffer!" chuckled the Mistress, her passion finding her once more, as if the Doctor hadn't just slipped through her and the Master's fingers moments ago. Her disappointment was behind her now. It was time to look to the future, and their ultimate victory.
"Exactly!" declared the Master enthusiastically. "And the more he struggles to postpone that moment, the greater the ultimate satisfaction."
From then on it was all about the production of the Master's earlier idea. The one on how to attack humanity and clear the way for the first wave of the Nestene landing force. A plastic daffodil. And an extremely deadly plastic daffodil at that. From the office, the Mistress watched over the Autons as they handled the production, never tiring like normal works would. A proud smile on her lips while the Master finished off what little paper work he had to, before heading down to the factory floor to make sure his designs were being done justice. When he returned, he handed the Mistress one of his plastic daffodils.
"You're not trying to kill me are you?" taunted the Mistress as she took the daffodil. Hesitating before giving it a sniff.
"I shudder at idea," replied the Master with a mixture of innocence and outrage. The Mistress only grinned back at him, before taking a sniff of the plastic flower, doing as the humans would do when the time came.
"Besides," continued the Master with a teasing smirk on his lips. "It's deliberately designed to only attack humans." At that the Mistress quickly moved the plastic flower away from her face and used it whack the Master's arm.
"So you thought you'd use me as a guinea pig," snapped the Mistress in playful accusation, before the Master snatched the daffodil from her grasp and gently lay it on the side of his desk.
"Of course not, my dear. I would never take such a risk with your lovely head," he assured her, hands on either side of her face before he pulled her in for a deep, long, satisfying kiss.
When they parted, Mr. Farrel had joined them and was admiring the daffodil for himself. "Do be careful, Farrel. We wouldn't want an accident," warned the Master halfheartedly as he looked past the Mistress and to Mr. Farrel for a moment, before his eyes went back to the Mistress and he smiled. They were almost done with Mr. Farrel now anyway, but since he'd been such a loyal and obedient slave, they'd both agreed they wouldn't kill him. They'd even put in a good word for him with the Nestene before they departed.
"I was admiring the workmanship," explained Mr. Farrel, now holding the plastic flower a safe distance away.
"Do you think people will be impressed?" asked the Master to his Mistress, who's arms had found their way around his neck as she hung onto him.
"Of course, my love," she answered with certainty, as she looked into his cool brown eyes, unable to contain her proud smile. It really was a brilliant idea, and she couldn't wait to see it implemented.
"They're the finest plastic flower I've ever seen," added Mr. Farrel in genuine praise, still admiring the daffodil as he turned it around.
"Yes, well, that's our goal. To show the world the skill of the modern plastics industry," pointed out the Master with great pride in his eyes.
"And then destroy humanity, of course," added the Mistress, making sure the Master hadn't lost sight of their goal.
"But of course," agreed the Master as his gaze went back to the Mistress and he brushed a strand of her hair aside. "But there's no reason we can't impress them before we kill them. Give them a high note to go out on?"
"A wonderful idea, darling," said the Mistress before planting a light kiss on his lips. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've to prepare the troops. We've got some flowers to hand out."