The chapel was peaceful, and quiet, with just enough sunlight coming in through the arched window to make the candles surrounding him absolutely pointless. Still, the Doctor kept them there, their flickering giving him a strange sense of comfort. They reminded him of simpler times. Of a planet in almost constant darkness. Of a town named after a Christian holiday and the woman who had danced with him there.

He squeezed his eyes closed, taking a slow, deep breath. He needed to be calm and his regret would not allow him such a luxury. So, he had to take it himself. He had to force away the despair, the regret and the anger and focus on his breathing. That's what people did when they meditated, wasn't it? Sat in the dark and cleared their minds? They didn't wallow on the past, or on their failures. They didn't think about the people they'd let down, or let get away. They just focused on their breathing.

In and out. In and out.

The sounds of footsteps echoed to his left and he knew that his new companion – no, not companion companion, but he had no other word for it – had joined him in the still room.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the large, rather hairy man. He really didn't appreciate the beard, but there wasn't anything he could do short of shaving the man himself.

"How many days have I been here?" he asked.

Bors face twisted into one of confusion. "About three hours."

The Doctor's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Three hours?" he repeated, horrified. He thought he'd been doing so well. The time had positively dragged on. How could it possibly only have been three hours?

"Well, nearly," Bors clarified and the Doctor shook his head, looking up at the window. That would have explained why the sun hadn't moved.

"Times doing that thing again," he muttered to himself, outraged, before looking back up at his new friend. "It always does this," he explained. "Goes too slow. It knows it should have been days, but instead it pulls a stunt like this." He turned back to the window. "Someone should get onto that."

He could have laughed at the thought of a Time Lord getting someone else to sort out the passage of time, but he didn't laugh anymore. He had to be calm. He couldn't think about her. He picked up his goblet and took a sip of the water inside. It needed a clean, but he couldn't expect anything more from a 12th century Essex, really.

"What is your journey?" Bors asked and the Doctor winced. He just had to bring it up. Flashes of blonde hair and bright eyes flew through his head. A laughter he'd never hear again.

"You can't come with me, Bors," the Doctor told him yet again.

"I'm pledged to your service. Ever since you saved my life."

"I didn't save your life," the Doctor corrected. "You had a splinter." He was really starting to wish that he hadn't done that, either. He'd been all intent to just walk away from the bumbling idiot screaming about how he was going to die, but then Danni's voice had echoed in his head, telling him to not be so silly; as if he could ever leave someone in pain.

"Where is it you go? And why must you meditate first?" Bors demanded.

He wasn't going to let it go. And, the Doctor had to admit, perhaps talking to him would help elevate his guilt. He had proved to the universe, after all, that he wasn't a good man. Maybe it was a good thing she wasn't there to see it. He had already let her down once, he couldn't do it again.

"Someone I know is very sick," he explained. "He'd want to see me before... While there's still time."

"An old friend?" Bors asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "Someone I've known a very long time," he corrected.

"If there's danger let me ride at your side!" Bors pleaded but the Doctor shot him a stern look, one that told Bors not to argue any further.

"You can't help me. Not where I'm going." They fell into a silence that hung heavily until, finally, he just couldn't help but ask. "Is there any sign of her?"

Bors reluctantly accepted that the Doctor wasn't going to allow him to offer his help. He shook his head. "None, sir Doctor," he said apologetically. "However, we do not know who we are looking for."

"You would, if you saw her," the Doctor replied softly, with a sad smile on his face. If she was coming, if she was here, then there'd be no denying the woman demanding to see him. His beautiful, perfect, lost wife...

He cleared his throat. "I have to think," he said, hating how thick his voice sounded. "No more distractions."

Bors nodded his head once in a bow. "As you wish, Sir Doctor."

As his heavy footsteps headed towards the door, the Doctor picked up his goblet and took another drink of the water. She was never late. She would have been here by now, had she escaped. He'd left the signs, she would come straight to him. There was no use in waiting any longer…

He pulled a face at the taste of the water. It just wouldn't do at all. He scrambled up off the floor. "Hang on a minute!" he called after Bors, who turned back to face him. "The water."

"The water, Sir?" Bors repeated, confused.

"I don't like it," the Doctor told him. "I can't meditate properly, without decent water." He handed the goblet to Bors before heading out of the chapel. "Gather as many people as you can. We need better water."

~0~0~0~

He used to be better at this, he was sure of it. At one point in his life he could have located fresh running water just by walking on the ground it was under. And yet, it had taken him almost two weeks to find the perfect spring this time around. He must have lost it in regeneration. It can't have been to do with his age. Or the fact he was trying to drag the process out as long as possible.

And then there was the visitors centre. He'd had to argue for that one a bit, but all he could imagine were the archaeologists' faces when they dug up information points and a desk. People like River, who would have spent decades examining each little bit of stone, wondering what it means.

People like River. Like Danielle…

"A throne room!" he declared suddenly, ignoring the groans around him.

"We have a throne room," Bors had told him. The Doctor shook his head.

"No, no, I would have seen it."

"You did," Bors replied. "When you first descended on this land, Sir Doctor. I took you there myself."

The Doctor frowned, playing their first meeting in his head from beginning to end. He remembered the man crying like a child over a splinter, then he was taken to the castle where he was taken into a little room. There had been a rather grand man sat on the chair in the middle…

"That was the throne room?" he asked. "That was rubbish. It was tiny. We can do better. Fetch me some paper, some ink, and some water."

There was a few more groans around him but the people began to disperse to do his bidding. He didn't know how he felt about them taking orders from him, but they weren't military orders, so it was probably fine. It wasn't like they were an army of Cybermen or anything.

He grabbed Bors arm before he could walk off. "Any sign of her?"

Bors shook his head. "I still do not know who I'm looking for, Sir."

The Doctor deflated, once again feeling his sliver of hope being ripped away. He let go of Bors arm. "You'll know her," he replied. "Go on. We can't dilly dally. I'm a busy man, you know."

~0~0~0~

There was nothing left for him to do. The well was a hit, the throne room a delight. Even the visitor's centre was filling more and more with visitors every day. He'd show them basic gardening for around the castle, and he may have created a few cocktails to make their rather disgusting alcohol taste a bit better. He was running out of ways to delay his time. This had to be his last night.

He quickly climbed the stairs back up to his meditation room. It had been three weeks, now. She wasn't coming. He wasn't going to find her. He had to face the music of what he'd done in pursuit of trying to find his wife, and what he'd done by giving up the search.

"Are you sure?" Bors asked as he followed him up to the small room.

"I've been avoiding it," he explained as he scanned the room. It had been tidied up since the last time he'd stepped in it. He needed it organised perfectly. An organised room, an organised mind. "One last night. Then I have to go."

He rushed around, picking up every candle stick he could before putting them into a circle in the middle of the room. If he sat in the middle, perhaps he could finally focus.

"You wish to be alone?" Bors asked him.

"I have to prepare myself," the Doctor replied.

"Why? You've never explained."

The Doctor faltered slightly. "I did something wrong," he admitted. "I let somebody down, when I should have been brave enough, strong enough, to do better." His thoughts drifted to her again, to his beautiful, happy, and now totally abandoned… He cleared his throat and sat down in his newly formed circle. He had some chalk somewhere in one of his pockets. "Tomorrow I pay the price. Tonight I make myself ready."

As he started to draw points in the circle, again another way to focus his mind, Bors walked over and extended a hand to his new friend. "Good bye, Magician. You've widened my mind."

The Doctor looked up at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to smack some sense into him. He wouldn't have been best pleased if he did, but it might actually work. Alas, he was just offering him a handshake. He slowly stood up off the floor and took his hand, shaking it once.

"You do realize you're still an idiot?" he asked.

Bors, to his credit, didn't seem particularly offended by his rudeness. Instead, he nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." There was a pause before the Doctor moved back, shuffling backwards as he prepared himself for a task he really didn't want to undertake. "I have to be quiet now. Quiet as the grave."

"I do not believe you're capable of silence," Bors replied in a whisper.

"Oh?" the Doctor replied, offended and loud. "Oh, we will see about that, shall we?"

"We shall, Sir Doctor." The Doctor dropped to his knees, scribbling everything that came to mind onto the floor with his trusty chalk. Most of what he wrote didn't have anything to do with his next destination, but he found that getting every little thing out of his head and into writing helped clear it for more important thoughts.

"No more distractions. Total focus," he whispered to himself as Bors gave him one last nod of the head before leaving.

He paused in his scribbling, realising that he had been writing about every single thing he had done since he'd regenerated. Every single adventure he'd been on, all the new people he had met. He'd paused on Robin Hood as the memory appeared of his sword fight on the log over the stream in the woods. It had brought that warm, impressed, happy look onto her face as he'd fought the thief off with a spoon.

A spoon he still had in his pocket.

"Bors!" he cried down the hallway and a moment later the man appeared. "Are you any good with the broadsword?"

"Yes," Bors replied, wondering if the Doctor was finally going to allow him to join him on his quest.

Instead, the Doctor pulled out his spoon. "Fancy a friendly?"

Bors sighed, now at his wits end with the man in front of him. "Enough, Magician!" he exclaimed. "I do not believe, that you will meditate. It's not in your nature. If this is to be your last night here, then we shall celebrate. There shall be revels!" The Doctor seemed surprised, which is what Bors expected. "But first..."

The Doctor's brows furrowed. "First?"

"Tell me your story," Bors requested. "Tell me, how you came to this place and why now you're compelled to leave it." He straightened, making sure the Doctor knew that he was not going to sway in his resolve. "I will not depart this room until you do so."

The Doctor stood up, ready to protest but found he just couldn't. He was just so tired of fighting that he nodded. "I suppose, I do owe you."

"I've served you loyally, Sir Doctor," Bors reminded and the Doctor smiled sadly. Loyalty; that was something he definitely didn't deserve.

He reached out, patting the man's arm. "Yes... Yes, you have," he agreed softly.

"Then begin your tale."

The Doctor swallowed, wetting his lips. Someone deserved to know. Maybe then he wouldn't be so keen to throw him a party. Maybe then he'd see just what a coward he actually was.

"Well..." he drawled out. "A little while ago, a very long way from here, I was looking for my wife," he started slowly. "She was taken by a monster, and I searched."

He walked over to the window, looking out into the night outside. He could see so many stars. "I looked in the deepest depravity of the universe, and I never found her." And he had. He'd looked in some awful, awful places. Where people were nothing but chattel, where deplorable things would occur that he'd try and stop when he could. He was a good man, after all, that was what she'd always said.

But as he'd searched, and seen the universe, and seen just what Missy might have done to her, what she was going to have to live through… that fight fell away. He'd stopped helping, he'd stopped caring. He turned away from the suffering of the universe, so much so that he knew she wouldn't even recognise him anymore. Then he'd done something he knew she'd never forgive.

He'd turned his back on a child crying.

"Instead I found a battlefield," he continued as he echoes of the day that had brought him this far into the past ran through his head. "Story of my life. I've seen many battlefields. This one will be different." He took a deep breath in, but it came out as a heavy, resigned sigh. "This one will be my last."

~0~0~0~

Clara was really trying hard to get back into the swing of things. She'd exhausted every single avenue she had trying to locate the Doctor – and hopefully Danni – but she was out of options. Even Jack and River had come to see her looking for him, which had been incredibly worrying, but she knew that staying put was the best thing to do at this point. The Doctor would come back for her when he was ready and gallivanting around the universe wasn't going to help him find her any quicker.

Of course, she still had to wonder if work was the best way to fall back into some temporary normality. As she held the bin out to Ryan, one of her many students, for him to spit his chewing gum in.

"Will I get it back after school?" he asked, much to the room's disgust. It was questions like that which made her question being a teacher.

"How will you know which one's yours?" she asked and he pulled a sheepish little grin as he realised just how stupid his question actually was. She nodded at him to sit down again as she headed back to her desk.

She placed the bin back on the floor before starting her circle of the room again. She found she taught better when she was moving. "Now, where was I? Jane Austen. Amazing writer, brilliant comic observer, and strictly among ourselves, a phenomenal kisser." She glanced out of the window, still unable to not check for that blue box she was almost always waiting for.

That's not what she saw. In fact, what she saw made so little sense that she stopped in the middle of her train of thought to stare at it. Planes in the sky were not a strange sight in London. It was an incredibly busy city and she found that she barely heard them anymore. This one, however, seemed to be hanging in the sky. Stuck on the cloud it was passing in front of.

She frowned. No. That couldn't be right. She quickly went to her desk, grabbing one of her dry erase markers before heading back to the window. Perhaps it was just a perception thing. She drew a circle around the plane on the window and watched, waiting for it to leave the thin black lines as it flew on about it's business.

It didn't. The plane was frozen in the air.

She turned around, popping the pen lid back on. "Everybody turn on their phones," she told her students as she put the pen back then headed to the window. She opened it up and leant outside, searching the sky for more planes. "News websites and Twitter."

"Twitter?" Ryan asked, amused as the students did as she asked. There was a lot of amused murmuring as they wondered what was wrong with their teacher. She normally didn't like that much noise in her classroom, but this was important.

"Hashtag 'ThePlanesHaveStopped'," she told them as she shut the window again. "Quick as you can. First one to find anything can have Ryan's gum at the end of class."

They all jeered at Ryan, although even he seemed to know it was said in jest. She never really made fun of her students; she remembered being that age and going through something terrible, so she knew what it was like to be young and emotional. She just used it to keep them playful and distracted as her mind ran over the many, many things that the planes in the sky could possibly mean.

It was obviously alien. She could pretty much guarantee that right off the bat. But which alien? She knew so many races that had much more advanced technology than them, but who could just stop planes in the air?

"Miss, Miss," Yasmine called, hand in the air as she stared at the phone. "BBC News has just tweeted out breaking news. Apparently it's all over the country."

"Nice one, Yasmine," Clara replied, pointing at the girl. "That's the one to beat, folks. You all spend half your day on your phone, I expect you to put it to good use."

And they did. Her students found more news on the planes than she was sure that the news outlets themselves had, but unfortunately it wasn't much at all. The frozen planes were everywhere and no one had any idea what was going on.

The door opened as she moved between the tables and Mr Dunlop stepped him. He looked absolutely bewildered. "Miss Oswald, a call at the office," he told her and she nodded. She had been expecting it from the moment she'd seen the plane outside. She was still the Doctor and Danni's current companion so she was the best port of call to get in touch with them. And, as no one was answering her phone calls, chances were that they weren't answering anyone else's either.

"Yeah, that would probably be UNIT," she replied, heading to her desk to grab her jacket. Her bag was in the teacher's lounge, but that would only be a quick detour for her.

"They're telling me you're needed," he said, still looking like he wasn't sure what was going on. "They were going to put me through to the Prime Minister."

She walked up to him, trying to look her most sombre. "Mr Dunlop, sorry. I have to take the rest of the day off owing to a, er..." She paused, wondering how to explain just why they were calling her. "Personal crisis," she settled on.

She couldn't help the grin on her face that appeared – this was bound to get her into contact with the Doctor – and she dashed out to pick up her back. As she had suspected, her phone was ringing when she grabbed it, UNIT already waiting for her to answer and ask for her help. She readily agreed, hopped onto her motorbike, and headed straight to the Tower of London.

Kate looked positively relieved to see her. "He's not answering his phone," she told Clara straight away, not bothering with pleasantries. "Have you tried?"

"He's still looking for Danni," Clara explained as they both strode towards the mass of computers and people that were in the middle of the underground room. "He's not going to answer for just anything if he hasn't found her. We need more to give him."

They came to a stop in front of a large glass screen with a map of the world on it. Over it were many, many tiny red dots she assumed were the planes. "How many planes?"

"4,165 aircraft currently airborne," Jac, another officer from UNIT, told them both.

"That's a lot of passengers," Kate commented.

"That's a lot of fuel," Clara countered. Kate's eyes widened slightly; she obviously hadn't even considered that.

"Oh, dear God," she breathed. "Yes, it is."

"Okay, so," Clara said thoughtfully as she walked around the screen. "What could you do with 4,000 flying bombs?"

"Ah, well, 439 nuclear power stations currently active," Jac told her as, with a tap on the screen, a lot more little dots appeared across the world.

"What else?" Kate asked.

"I dunno," Clara replied, shaking her head as she tried to think up any sort of possibility. "Er, fault lines. Earthquake, a tsunami?"

Jac nodded, sitting down at her desk. "Running simulations now."

"So this is an attack?" Kate reasoned.

"What kind of an attack advertises?" Clara countered. "Why show somebody what you can do? Why not just do it? What's actually happened to the planes? What are the pilots saying?"

"We, we can't contact them," Kate explained.

"The planes haven't stopped," Jac said. "They're actually frozen. Like, frozen in time. Pardon my sci-fi, but this is beyond any human technology."

"Okay, so we need the Doctor."

Clara turned to look at the science officer. "Kate, we can't just phone the Doctor and bleat, he's never going to stop looking for Danni for just anything. If we really need his help, we need give him something big to come back for." She crossed her arms. "Come on. What have we got? What do we know? It's not an attack, it's not an invasion, because, well, that doesn't come with a fair warning. So, somebody needs our attention. Somebody who needs to put a gun to our heads to make us listen." Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh."

"Oh?" Kate repeated.

"What if it's Danni?" Clara suggested hopefully.

"I don't think Danielle would even know how to begin to do something on this scale," Kate said, her brows furrowed at the suggestion.

"But think about it. Someone messing with time, trying to get our attention but not hurting anyone. Over dramatic, a little confused on how communication works..."

"We've got a message," one of the technicians called over. "The Doctor channel."

"Sorry, what?"

"He never uses it. I doubt he remembers it even exists," Kate told her.

"But Danni would," Clara said, nodding as if it confirmed her guess. "It could be her."

"She would just call," Kate pointed out. "They both have previous, but not like this. She wouldn't put people in danger.

She had a point. They rushed over to the technician. "Then who is it?" Clara asked.

"Decrypting," the man told them, typing away as they stared impatiently at the screen he was working on. "We're getting text through, I think."

"Texting?" Clara repeated, her hope deflating even more. "Definitely not the Doctor. Or Danni. She likes to talk." There was a beep and white text appeared on the screen.

You so fine.

"Have you got any more?" Kate asked. The screen flashed again as the text changed.

You blow my mind.

Clara's heart froze, her skin broke out into goosebumps as the text changed again.

Hey Missy, you so fine, you so fine, you blow my mind! Hey

Missy!

She rocked back onto her heels as she was bombarded with memories of Danny Pink in a Cyberman suit. Of a woman dressed like Mary Poppins gloating about what she had done to the dead just to kidnap Danni. Her blood burnt, her anger built as did the horror that Missy was still alive. After all this time, after searching and searching for Danni, she'd had no idea that Missy was still a threat.

Then the screen changed and confirmed Clara's worst fears. There was Missy, looking straight at them all from somewhere outside. "Today, I shall be talking to you out of-" They all jumped back as her head stretched out of the screen like some warped 3D image. "-the square window!"

"What the hell was that?" Kate exclaimed, also horrified at the woman's sudden appearance. "How did she do that?"

"Dunno. Some sort of psychic projection, or something," Jac replied as the staff worked on locating where the transmission was come from.

"Oh great, thanks."

"Okay, cutting to the chase," Missy said, keeping the attention entirely on her. "Not dead, back, big surprise, never mind. I'm in a lovely little square in one of your, oh, I don't know, hot countries. There's a light breeze coming from the east, this coffee is a buzz-monster in my brain," she raised a small white coffee cup, "and I'm going to need eight snipers."

"Eight what?"

"Three for each heart, and two for my brain stem," Missy explained. "You'll have to switch me off fast, before I can regenerate. How fast can you get here? Ooo, I'll need to arrange you a flight corridor." She raised a small device, licking the tip of her finger before typing on it to open the corridor for them.

"Why do you need snipers?" Kate asked her suspiciously.

Missy paused in her typing to look at her camera. "Because it's the only way she'll feel safe enough to talk to me," she replied. Clara instantly knew that she was talking about her, they all did. "Shall we say four o'clock?"

The screen went dead before any of them could reply, but they all were in a state of shock and probably couldn't have anyway. Kate turned to Clara. "Is eight enough?" she asked with no doubt that Clara was going to meet her.

Clara nodded. "You heard her," she replied, waving a hand at the screen. "It should be plenty, apparently."

She couldn't believe that this was happening, but at the same time she was so happy it was. She could finally get back at her for what she did to both Danny and Danni. The insane Time Lady was alive and could finally be punished.

She pulled out her phone, once again ringing the Doctor. His voice sounded just as irritated as always. "Doctor. We have her. We have Missy," she told the answering machine. "I don't know where the hell you are, but we have her. And if we have her, we can get to Danni. I'm in the Tower of London. Get here now, you've got about 10 minutes."

She hung up and crossed her arms, watching thoughtfully as UNIT rushed around to get her transportation to the little plaza Missy had been sat in. Kate was barking out orders like she was made to give them, but stopped on one of her passes, hesitating slightly in front of Clara.

"Do you think he'll come?" she asked.

"For us? No," Clara replied bluntly. "But if Missy is here then he'll have a clear shot at getting Danni back, and nothing in the universe will keep him away."

~0~0~0~

Clara knew that the snipers were in position, otherwise she wouldn't have been allowed onto the square at all. She knew that, at a moment's notice, Missy would be shot and shot again until she was dead – properly this time – and that no matter what, she was safe.

It didn't help, though, as they pulled up in the black car to conduct what was a rather bizare meeting. She stepped out and saw Missy drinking her coffee like she didn't have a care in the world. Clara didn't expect to be affected so strongly by that, but she was and she strode over with her hands clenched at her sides. She had to be calm. She couldn't get emotional.

She came to a stop by the chair in front of her, staring expectantly. Missy waved at it in invitation. "Go on, then."

Clara sat, checking around her to see if she could see the snipers. They were in place. She was safe. This was fine.

"How's your boyfriend?" Missy started cruelly. "Still tremendously dead, I expect."

"Still dead, yeah," Clara replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. This was how it was going to be, was it? Petty digs at everything in her life, all designed to wound. Clara could deal with that.

"Where's Danni?"

"Oh, let's not start that," Missy dismissed. "I'm not going to tell you, no matter how nicely you ask, and you know it."

Clara shook her head. "Well, that's all I'm here for," she replied simply. "Where is she?"

Missy took a sip of her drink before placing it down on the saucer. "Safe," she stated. "That is all you need to know. Would you like to sit in the shade? Danielle really wouldn't like it if I let you burn, would she?" She pulled out her controller and a shadow of a plane covered them both, protecting them from the Mediterranean heat.

"Better?" Missy asked her. "I expect you've tried to contact him by now. Well, you should know, I can't find him either. No one can."

"That's because he's looking for Danni," Clara retorted. "He's not answering his phone for anyone."

"Not like this." Missy reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out a small golden disc covered in what Clara guessed was Gallifreyan. She placed it onto the table in front of her, turning it so the sliver of an opening was pointing towards Clara. "It's a confession dial."

"A what?" Clara snapped, with very little patience for her messing around.

"In your terms, a will. The Last Will and Testament of the Time Lord known as the Doctor, to be delivered, according to ancient tradition, to his closest friend, on the eve of his final day."

Clara felt herself straighten slightly at the implications of her words. She knew that Missy wasn't lying, after all she had no reason to, which meant something much worse. Was it for her, then? But the Doctor wasn't exactly on friendly terms with her. With either of them, actually.

"Then why do you have it?" Clara shot back. "That should be Danni's."

"It was delivered to me for me, in turn, to deliver to her," Missy explained. "However, I am not a delivery boy. And, well, how am I supposed to keep the fight in her when her hope fades away at the sight of this?"

"So you've come to me for help?" Clara asked in disbelief. "To save the Doctor so that you don't have to tell Danni that he's dead? Since when did you care?"

"I have know the Doctor a long time. Longer than you, and certainly longer than Danielle," Missy replied. "I will always, on some level, care."

"He's not going to want your help. Not after what you did."

Missy shrugged. "It's just a game."

"You keep trying to kill him!"

"He keeps trying to kill me," Missy interrupted.

"You stole his wife!"

Missy opened her mouth to protest but then picked up her cup again. "Yes, I did," she agreed. "She's mine, not his. I shared for long enough."

"Sha-Shared?" Clara exclaimed. "You kidnapped her!"

"And he'll forgive me for it," she countered. "He always does."

"Not for this," Clara said with promise in her voice. Missy didn't seem to care, taking another sip of her coffee. Clara felt her frustration building up almost to bursting point. Why was she even here, then?

"Keeping the fight in Danni isn't exactly to your advantage, though, is it?" Clara pointed out. "If she's still fighting you then she's going to get away eventually."

"Have you never met Danielle?" Missy retorted. "The whole point of her is her fight, her… passion. When she loses it, she becomes boring. She's not very good at subservience."

Clara shook her head. "No, no, that's not it," she said. "You're doing this to save the Doctor. This has nothing to do with Danni. You want his forgiveness." She blinked, surprised. "You're doing this to be good."

Missy looked at her, amused. "Good?" she repeated. Before Clara could blink she pointed her device at one of the Secret Service men stood around them and he disintegrated on the spot. There was pandemonium as the rest of the servicemen pulled out guns to point at her. Clara shot out of her chair, dashing towards where the man had stood, but came to a stop when she realised there wasn't much to be done. Missy had actually killed him.

And here she was thinking that maybe Missy might have gained some sort of sanity since they'd last seen each other.

"By the ring on his finger, he was married, and I, I think I detected some baby leakage on his jacket, so he had a family." She grimaced, as if embarrassed for the man who had died. Like he should have known better.

She raised her voice in annoyance. "No, I've not turned good!" she snapped out before disintegrating another serviceman just to prove her point. "Ooh, wow, I'm on a roll. Thanks for bringing spares."

Clara turned to her, panting out of anger and slight fright, not that she wanted to admit that.

"Stop it. Just stop it!" she shouted. "Don't shoot anybody else!"

Missy ignored her, looking past her to one of the drivers. "Oi, you, sweaty one, on your knees. Let's have a goodbye selfie for your kids."

Clara was almost shaking. "Missy, nobody else!"

"Say something nice," Missy commanded with a smirk on her face.

"No."

"I'll kill everyone in this square," Missy warned. Clara stormed towards her, calling her bluff.

"Start with me," she retorted. "Then what, hey?" She walked over, placing her hands on the table and leaning over her. "You came here for my help."

"Because the Doctor is in danger!" Missy reminded her.

"Make me believe you."

"How?"

"Where's Danni?" Clara quickly shot back, staring the woman down to show that she meant business. If she could get Danni's location then she could contact the Doctor, let him know, and he'd be there before they knew it.

Missy's gaze didn't waver as she pointed her device at another guard, disintegrating them as well. Clara tried not to flinch. She'd have expected a denial, not another casualty.

"Fine, fine!" she exclaimed. She couldn't let anyone else die. "Release the planes."

"The planes are keeping me alive," Missy reminded her. "I mean, there's," she looked around to count them, "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight naughty little snipers ready to kill me."

"Yeah." Clara raised her hand into the air. "On my command. The Doctor is in danger. Show me you care. Make me believe."

For some reason, despite the situation, Clara felt like she was staring down a small child. She knew that she couldn't falter even for a moment because Missy would know that she might actually win. At school this would have been a threat of a detention, though, and not threat of 4,000 planes plummeting to the ground and destroying the Earth.

But, just like with the children, it always worked. Missy rolled her eyes but pulled out her controller again and the planes started flying once again. Of course, Missy couldn't just admit she'd done it to prove she was serious, and instead slowly placed her feet up on the chair next to her.

"It's only a basic Time Stop. Parlour trick. Couldn't have done anything with them anyway," she said with an air of boredom. Clara really tried not to give into the temptation to strangle her. Instead she lowered her hand to show that she was going to keep her side of the deal as well.

"What does it say?" she asked softly.

"What does what say?"

"His confession," Clara clarified. Missy moved from her relaxed state, turning to face Clara as she realised that she was getting the help she'd requested.

"I don't know," Missy replied. "It will only open for Danielle."

"So we don't know if he's actually dead?" Clara asked in reply as she sat down in the chair opposite Missy. The relief at the fact that Missy didn't say that he definitely was almost made her cry. She couldn't bare the idea of either of them dying on her. They weren't allowed. But she kept her cool as best as she could; Missy couldn't see her weak.

Missy leant forward. "Question; If the Doctor has one last night to live, if he's certain he's facing the end of his life, where, in all of space and time, would he go?"

"He'd be with Danni," Clara instantly replied. "He'd not care about where or when, as long as they were together."

"And if that couldn't happen?" Missy shot back.

Clara shrugged as one of the servicemen brought over a laptop for her. "Well, here."

"Well, yes, Earth, obviously!" Missy stood up, walking to her side so she could see the screen. "But where? When?" Clara quickly logged onto the laptop and onto the video call of UNIT on the other side. They were already searching for the Doctor, using every piece of computer software they had to generate the probabilities of the Doctor being at any one point.

"There we go. San Martino, Troy, multiples for New York, and three possible versions of Atlantis," Jac read off to them. "It's easier than you'd think. The Doctor makes a lot of noise and he loves to make an entrance."

"But which one is the one? Where is he now?" Kate asked. There was just so many places to chose from, and all of them could or could not be the right Doctor. He'd done so much for Earth over his many lifetimes that it could be any one of his faces.

Clara leant back in her chair. This was too complicated. They needed to make it simpler. "When he was going to die on Trenzalore he didn't want Danni there to see it," she mused out loud. "But that was a lie and he wouldn't do it again. Both of them are so codependent that they'd want the other one there, regardless of how hard it was going to be. He'd pretend he was hiding from her, but really he's not. He'd want her to find him, just like she would want him to find her."

"That's true," Missy agreed. "All she does is go on and on about how one day he'll save her."

Clara didn't answer that. "But he doesn't want anyone else to find him. When we think of the Doctor, we think of a man saving the day. You're looking at all the places across time and space where he's saved the day. All the crisis points that he's helped sway to us, because he makes a lot of noise and he loves to make an entrance." She looked up at Missy. "How's a Time Lord supposed to die?"

"Meditation. Repentance and acceptance," she replied. "Contemplation of the absolute."

Clara turned back to the screen. "Change the algorithm. Eliminate the crisis points. Where is the Doctor making the most noise, but there isn't any crisis?" She leant back in the chair again. "We all think of him as a hero, but he's always denied it. If I was Danni, I wouldn't look where there's the most crisis, I'd look where he's making the most noise just for being there."

"Of course," Missy said, sounding rather exasperated. "It's not a crisis, it's a bloody party."

Clara quickly switched from the video call to the algorithm screen, watching all the tiny dots that could represent the Doctor disappear before only one remained, flashing on the south of the UK.

"There he is," Clara breathed, amazed that she had been right, and yet not completely surprised.

"You go, girl!" Missy praised before reaching over, slamming something onto her wrist before Clara even realised what she was doing. There was a flash of light as Clara was thrown all over all at once then she landed on the ground, winded and coughing.

Next to her Missy laughed in pure delight. "Mummy, do it again!" she cried happily as Clara looked around. It was dark now, and the ground and the walls around them were made of stone. She'd had a similar experience once before, but she'd been prepared that time. "Vortex manipulators," she explained as if Clara didn't know. "Yours is slaved to mine. Cheap and nasty time travel."

The air was full of people cheering and clapping, and Missy walked over to the wall to look down at the crowd below. Clara joined her and was surprised to find them looking down at a castle courtyard, with wooden stands surrounded it. People were cheering on the rather large man in armour who was stood in the middle. He waved his axe around before facing the large castle doors.

"Face me, Magician! Face me!" he shouted and the crowd cheered him on. There was obviously some sort of fight about to happen. Clara really didn't want to see a bloodbath. It made her feel rather queasy to even think about.

"You probably want to throw up, don't you?" Missy asked. "Pick a local. According to you, this is where the Doctor is."

Clara turned to her. "Okay, how do we find him?" she asked. "How do we know what we're looking for?"

"Anachronisms," she replied, like it was obvious. "The slightest, tiniest..." She trailed off as a rather loud screech from a guitar, definitely an electric guitar, rang out from behind the door. Smoke began billowing out as if someone was about to start a rock concert. "...Anachronisms," she finished, sounding rather annoyed.

Clara could only watch with her mouth hanging open as a tank slowly began to enter the courtyard through the fog, the Doctor perched on top as he played an electric guitar. In the past. In a castle courtyard. Whilst wearing shades and a hoodie. Were… were his trousers checkered? What was going on?

He came to a stop, finishing the riff spectacularly and the whole courtyard exploded into applause whilst his fighting foe looked nonplussed. "Dude! What is that?" he asked, exasperated.

"You said you wanted an axe fight," the Doctor replied, holding his arms up in the air as he expected raucous laughter. He didn't get any. "Oh, come on. In a few hundred years, that'll be really funny," he continued as he jumped off the tank, pushing his guitar around to sit on his back. "It's a slow burner."

"A musical instrument is not an axe," the man in the armour pointed out.

"Yes, and a daffodil is not a broadsword," the Doctor countered, walking around him as he seemed to play up to the audience. "But I still won the last round!" He chucked his arms up again, guitar in one hand but this time the crowd cheered for him.

What was happening? Seriously? Clara couldn't understand it. The Doctor, especially this Doctor, didn't like people, let alone try and play it for the cheap seats in a crowed courtyard! He looked so different it was unnerving, and he kept making terrible jokes… Well, that wasn't too different but everything about what she was seeing felt so wrong.

"What's the matter with him? He's never like this," she asked Missy.

"Oh, you really are new, aren't you?" she replied as the Doctor paused in his rambling, looking directly at them. He even lowered his glasses to peek over the top, as if trying to get a better look.

"Wait, hang on. Did he just hear that?" she asked. "He doesn't know we're here, does he?"

As if to prove her wrong – he seemed to like doing that – he pulled his guitar back around to his front as he stared up at the pair. Despite the strangest of what was going on, and her worry that he really was about to die, plus her general frustration at having to work with Missy, Clara couldn't help but smile as the Doctor starting playing 'Cruellade Vil' from One Hundred and One Dalmatians on his guitar.

She turned to Missy, who looked positively outraged. "I think that's for you," she told the other woman gleefully.

Missy didn't reply as the Doctor turned to the audience again. Clara left her stood their to pout as she headed downwards. The Doctor was still interacting with the audience as she reached the outskirts of the courtyard.

"But I've got some sad news for you, dudes. Tonight, I'm going to have to leave you," he continued as she watched. The crowd all started to protest but he held his hand up. "But before I do, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine!"

He caught Clara's eyes and she joined him in the courtyard, waving shyly to the crowd, who were staring at her.

"How did you know I was here? Did you see me?" she asked him lowly, amazed.

"I'm never not looking, Clara," he told her sadly.

People who've lost someone, they're always listening, always looking, always hoping. So, they notice more. They hear more.

That's what he'd said about Maebh and why she could hear the trees, back when the forest had appeared on Earth, before everyone had forgotten it had even happened.

She smiled sympathetically. "You thought I was Danni?" she asked softly.

He didn't reply, instead pulled her in for a hug. A hug from a man who didn't particularly like her anymore. She tensed slightly under it, more out of shock than surprise, but then hugged him back. "We're doing hugging now?" she asked him jokingly. "Which one of us is dying?"

He didn't reply straight away and she suddenly felt like it wasn't a joke, it was really real. He was going to die.

"Well, you know what they say. Hugging is a great way to hide your face," he told her before letting her go.

He obviously wasn't going to bring up what was going on, so she took it upon herself to do so. She raised his sunglasses so she could see his eyes, so he couldn't lie to her. "Okay, look. I guessed a party, but not like this. What is this? This isn't you," she told him.

"I spent all day yesterday in a bow tie, the day before in a long scarf." He put his sunglasses back down again. "It's my party, and all of me is invited!"

He moved away, playing his guitar again as Missy entered the courtyard. Clara rolled her eyes. He was playing 'Hey Mickey'. Of course he was.

"What the hell are you up to, man?" Missy asked, looking positively flattered.

In return, the Doctor turned to the crowd. "It's the wicked stepmother!" he cried angrily. "Everyone hiss!"

Missy bowed and pulled out her handkerchief, bowing as the crowd did as they were asked and booed and hissed the new woman. The Doctor backed away towards Clara, keeping his distance, but much to Clara's bewilderment he didn't attack Missy further.

"Apparently, you think you're going to die tomorrow," Missy declared, pulling out the confession dial and holding it up into the air.

"That's not yours," he retorted shortly.

"Well, I couldn't just go giving it to her, could I?" Missy replied. "You'll know that she'll break if she found out that you were dying. I couldn't do that to the wee girl."

The Doctor grinned. "Well, I've got some good news about that," he said joyfully.

"Oh, yeah?"

"It's still today!" He backed away, playing the 'wah, wah, wah' jingle Clara had heard on many game shows before. As the end of the note played off the sound of choking took all their attention to the man in the armour.

The Doctor immediately ran over, pulling his sunglasses off as the other man dropped to his knees. "Bors. Is it a marble again? Did you swallow one of the marbles I gave you?" Bors continued to clutch at his neck, so the Doctor forced his hands underneath. "Don't swallow marbles!" The moment he'd felt the scales under his hand he'd grabbed the thing attacking his friend and chucked it to the floor.

Clara jumped back away from the black and white snake, slightly alarmed by it as the crowd gasped in horror. It slithered away towards a figure in robes. It went underneath their robes, disappearing as they looked up. She could only stare at the weird way their face seemed to be pieced together. It was almost as if their head was made out of different sections.

"Doctor," they hissed. "Your friends have led me to you. You will come."

The Doctor stepped backwards, away from them and towards the tank. "Says you and whose army?" he asked lowly.

Clara quickly dashed over to the Doctor as if he could protect her as the figure's face twisted, proving her initial thoughts completely true. The crowd cried out, screaming as they fled the stands. Clara couldn't blame them as the figure dissolved into dozens of snakes with one giant one in the middle of the pile, but she knew the best place to be was with the Doctor.

He strode forward, face like fury. "Nobody dies here. Not one person, not one of my friends, do you understand?" he shouted up at the giant snake, not at all bothered by it. Clara immediately felt better; that was more like the Doctor she knew.

"Davros, creator of the Daleks, dark lord of Skaro, is dying," the giant snake hissed.

"So I hear."

The snake lowered down, as if it was trying to make eye contact with him. "He would speak with you again on the last night of his life."

"Then you will harm nobody in this place. Not one person. Are we very, very clear?" the Doctor snapped back. It wasn't a request, it was a command. They watched as the creature pulled itself back together again, all of the snakes slithering underneath the robes before it formed the single figure once again.

"Are you so dangerous, little man?" it hissed.

"You want to know how dangerous I am?" the Doctor asked in return ash he walked away. "Davros sent you. You know how stupid you are? Huh? You came!" The figure hissed angrily and the Doctor looked at it in angry disbelief. "Is that supposed to frighten me? Snake nest in a dress?" he retorted. "Now, explain, politely. Davros is my arch-enemy. Why would I want to talk to him?"

"Davros knows. Davros remembers," the creature hissed before reaching into its robes. It held the sonic screwdriver out in front of them, battered and old, before chucking it onto the ground in front of the Doctor.

Clara turned to him, confused, as she watched the Doctor she knew disappear. He shrank back, almost like the screwdriver would hurt him. His head was bowed, his confidence gone.

"That's yours," Clara stated, looking to him for an answer. He wouldn't look her in the face. He wouldn't look any of them in the face.

"Er, it was," he muttered as if he was in pain.

"Was?"

"I don't have a screwdriver any more," he explained.

"Ooo. Never seen that before," Missy stated, hands on her hips as she stared at him. She looked almost delighted. "Doctor, the look on your face. What is that?"

"Shame," Clara declared for him. He didn't look up, confirming what she'd said. "You're ashamed. Doctor? What have you done?" The thought that hit her hurt, and her anger flared. "You've given up," she realised. "You're not looking for her anymore. Something happened and you gave up on her..."

He looked up, eyes wide in a pathetic desperation. "No, not on her," he replied. "Never on her."

Clara stepped forward. "Yes, on her," she snapped angrily. "How dare you? You-You were going to your death knowing that you were never going to see her again! That-That you were never going to find her because you stopped looking!"

"No!" he exclaimed. "I didn't give up on her. I left her safe!"

"Safe?!" Clara exclaimed. "She's with her!" She pointed at Missy, who looked positively delighted at this new development. "How can you do that to her? We all put our faith in you! She put her faith in you!"

"She'll let her go eventually," the Doctor replied. "She was always going to."

Missy snorted. "Excuse me!"

The Doctor turned, the shame disappearing off his face as he looked at her incredulously. "You don't think I remember?" he asked. "How you never hit her?"

Missy shrugged. "That's definitely changed. Your memory doesn't mean anything."

"Yes, it does," he insisted. "Because I remember a young, red-headed woman staring down Rassilon for you. A woman who ranted against the maddest of the mad in the universe, who scolded him for what he did to you." Missy looked smug and the Doctor jabbed a finger in her direction. "And you let her. You let her speak for you when no one else ever could. Anyone else would have been just another victim, regardless of whether they were right or wrong. You won't keep her forever."

"I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?" Missy pointed out. "I was saving the world as you stood by, being all lanky and pinstriped. This isn't any fun unless you at least try..."

"Well, I can't," he exclaimed. "I can't… I..." The look was back.

"What happened?" Clara asked again, this time softer. "What happened that made you just turn away?"

The Doctor couldn't answer. She watched it war on his face, the shame of what he'd done, then he strode forwards towards the snake creature.

"Is your ship in orbit?"

Missy followed him over. "It's a trap."

The creature grinned at its victory. "Prepare yourself for teleport."

"Doctor, listen to me," Missy tried again. "I know traps, traps are my flirting. This is a trap."

The Doctor ignored her, stepping backwards. "I am prepared."

Missy placed herself between the Doctor and the creature, making him look at her as Clara could only watch on. She let Missy try because she was already out of ideas. He was resigned to his fate, his mind was made up. He'd well and truly given up.

"You sent me your confession dial to give to my pet. You threw yourself a three week party. You know what this is," she pointed out urgently.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes," he replied. "Goodbye." He turned away from the pair, his wrists clasped behind his back. One of the snakes slipped from the robes and up the Doctor to bind his wrists.

Clara looked over at Missy, and could tell instantly that they were both thinking the same thing. She strode forward, joining him on one side as Missy joined him on the other. "We're coming with him. Both of us, her and me," she declared.

"No!" the Doctor exclaimed. "No, no, no. Under no circumstances!" He watched as the creature seemed to wriggle on the spot. "What are you doing now?"

"Voting," it replied before grinning. "We are a democracy. It is agreed."

Two more snakes slipped out, binding their wrists as well as the Doctor shook his head. "No, no, no! I forbid it, no!" he commanded but, like always, no one ever listened. "No! No! No! No!"

~0~0~0~

A fair bit into the future and a long way away...

Being the Shadow Architect of the Shadow Proclamation was not an easy job. Some days it felt like there was no end, and thriving in that environment was something very few did. Today was no exception. Between suicide moons and wars that reached across many galaxies, she also had to deal with some of the most deadly of people across the universe.

"Your co-operation is not required," she told their new prisoner, who had been brought straight to the leader of the Shadow Proclamation at her own request. The Shadow Architect was more than happy to meet with her. "You have already been tried in absentia and will be transferred to one of our more secure facilities. The Stormcage Facilities are known for their..."

In the ornate marble room it was not very hard to miss the figure all dressed in black. The Shadow Architect came to a stop in the middle of the room, two Judoon flanking her while their visitor was hidden from view. "Apparently we have a security breach," she declared to her minions. Her face twisted into her anger at the appearance of the horrid creature.

She strode towards them. "I won't ask how you got in here, but I will demand to know your business, Colony Sarff."

The colony of snakes did not step out of the shadows in which they were hiding. "Where is the Doctor?"

"I've no idea. He's not our concern," she explained shortly. "And he's certainly not your employer's."

"The Doctor is required," Colony Sarff hissed back.

"For what?" the Shadow Architect demanded in return. "Colony Sarff, you need to tell me. What does Davros want with the Doctor?"

The creature just stared back for a moment, silent, before turning and gliding away. A moment later and they disappeared in a flash of light.

The Shadow Architect turned to the prisoner. "You know the Doctor better than anyone," she stated. "What does Davros want with the Doctor?"

Danielle Fielding shrugged. "It depends, really," she said. "The Doctor and Davros have a lot of history that spans quite a lot of time. Did he teleport or time jump?" The Shadow Architect opened her mouth and Danni rolled her eyes. "Really? You're going to tell me that nothing in this government building on this floating city can't analyse what he just did? I mean, I would check myself, but..." she shook her wrists. The metal restraints that kept her hands behind her back jingled. "I'm a little tied up at the moment. At my own request, if you remember." She looked up at the Judoon by her side, smirking. "I did want you all to feel safe around me," she told it with a bit of a flirt in her voice.

The Shadow Architect really didn't want to admit to any prisoner, much less the Time Child, just what the Shadow Proclamation had at their disposal. But she was the only one who could answer her questions, so she called for the information on her communication device.

"Teleported," she told Danni shortly, who nodded her head.

"That, most likely, means that Davros is in this time period. Interesting." She sucked on her bottom lip slightly as she looked up, thinking on the information she had just been given.

The Shadow Architect gave her a moment before deciding she was being purposefully slow. "Do you know what Davros wants with the Doctor?" she demanded again.

"Well, again, that is very hard to say," Danni told her. "I want to help, I really do, but my hands are tied." She giggled to herself. "Get it? Hands are tied?" She nudged the Judoon, who didn't even move. "Oh, come on, that was a good one."

"Time Child," the Shadow Architect snapped, losing the last of her patience. "The crimes you have committed against the universe over the centuries are inexcusable. We have already been lenient with you by not sentencing you to death on sight, your restraints will not be removed."

"Oh, I know," Danni replied with a nod. "You're very serious, I totally get that. It's just… Well, I'm a bit busy now, so..."

"You were captured, Time Child. I do not think you understand the seriousness of your situation. Being cooperative will help you, being uncooperative will result in an even harsher punishment."

Danni took in a his a breath through her teeth. "Well, you see," she grimaced slightly at the second hand embarrassment, "you didn't exactly capture me. I wasn't getting anywhere, and I was a bit bored, so I thought; 'Hey, those bureaucrats probably have something on the Doctor, I'll go see them'."

"That is irrelevant. You are in our custody."

Danni nodded along with her. "Yeah, it does seem that way, doesn't it?" She looked up at the two Judoon keeping their eyes on her. "And what wonderful custody it is too. Definitely some of the better custody I've been in over the recent years. Honestly, I don't say that often. Well… Not too often… Well, not in the last couple of days, anyway."

She turned back to the Shadow Architect. "But, again, you're going to love how this works out, cause I did." She grinned as if she was sharing an inside joke. "You've just given me my first proper lead. The Doctor will go and see Davros eventually, and now I know when. So, coming here wasn't a complete waste of time. I do have just one teeny tiny suggestion." She looked upwards, nodding at the ceiling. "Your scanners? Absolutely rubbish. They're so easy to fool."

With a clatter of her restraints on the floor, Danni reached up to the top of her arm where her vortex manipulator sat. "Bye, sweetie," she called to the Shadow Architect, with a wave of her fingers, and she was gone.

The Shadow Architect's face contorted into pure fury. "Stop her!" she shrieked but it was too late. "Find her! Find the Time Child!"

~0~0~0~

Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to leave lots of lovely comments while I'll go sleep.

I go to Disney World in a few days for 2 weeks, so I can't promise an upload next week because, you know, the most magical place on Earth and all that. Keep an eye on my Tumblr for updates and stuff, though! It's dannifielding, just like here :)

No review replies today except to say thank you very much for all of your lovely words. You all are fantastic, and I appreciate every single one. But, the aforementioned sleep needs to happen.