Disclaimer: I do not own or have any rights to Doctor Who which belongs to the BBC etc, no copyright infringement is intended and no money/profit is being made this is for entertainment only please support the official program etc. I also do not own the song "Mickey" written by Mike Chapman and Nicky Chinn.
Rated M. Warnings: This fic contains sexually suggestive situations, a very toxic and unhealthy relationship, violence, emotional/psychological torment, sci-fi, coarse language, cruel humour and most importantly Missy! Also there will be spoilers for Seasons 8&9.
Pairing: Missy x Clara.
A/N: This is a short multichapter story not to be taken too seriously. I am self confessed Missfle trash, garbage, waste etc! If you happen to be like-minded then I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Six: Winning The Race.
The Doctor had traced her TARDIS to a park, he found her sat down on a bench scribbling furiously into a journal. Occasionally, he noticed that she would look up, and stare at the families picniccing in the centre of the park before resuming her note-taking. She was so intensely absorbed in this task that she didn't notice him until he sat down next to her.
"What are you doing?" He inquired in bemusement.
"Observing the human race." Replied the Mistress, not even turning to look at him.
The Doctor shifted towards her, trying to get a glance of what she was writing. She sensed this and snapped her journal shut in irritation, before turning to glare at him in suspicion.
"You mean, you're not even planning world domination?" Asked the Doctor, incredulous.
"Mmmmm, I'm over that...for now."
"You haven't even killed anyone?"
Missy smiled viciously.
"Come on now Doctor, you wouldn't begrudge a girl a hobby now would you?"
The Doctor fixed her with a stone cold stare of stern disapproval.
"I'll stop you."
Missy gripped the Doctors hand affectionately, her eyes lighting up as if he had just paid her the dearest compliment.
"She's winning so far..." She whispered before leaving the Doctor puzzled with Claras phone in his hand.