Series 9: What We Deserve
Warnings: dark themes, violence, torture, m/f, f/f & m/f/f relationships, explicit scenes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did…damn you, Moffat!
Summary: Clara faces questioning and Missy's patience is tested.
"Well, isn't this wonderful!" Missy called sarcastically, as they trawled through foul-smelling water and other things no one wanted to think too closely about. "That's my boots ruined."
"You wanted to wear your own clothes to scrabble around in," the Doctor replied repressively, his gaze fixed on his screwdriver, held high in the air as its light glowed softly in the dark tunnel, a soft beepingthe only sound. Apart from Missy's whining.
"For scrabbling around ruins, not…sewers!" Missy snapped back, nose wrinkled against the smell. "Fantastic plan, ape-girl."
Beside the Doctor, Osgood glanced back over her shoulder at the Time Lady, her features backlit by the torch she held to help her navigate, annoyance in her eyes. "Did you have a better idea? You'd never have made it out of Erudite unseen, and turning off every security camera you pass would just tell them you're coming."
"Hush!" the Doctor snapped at the pair of them, irritated that they will still bickering. He wasn't exactly enjoying this experience either, but so far it was beating that time in Rusty's waste disposal chamber by a landslide.
The memory brought back thoughts of Clara, but he determinedly pushed them aside. He couldn't focus if he let his emotions get the better of him.
Behind him, Missy sent a narrow glare Osgood's way, mentally flicking through her mental catalogue of exceedingly painful ways to die and deciding which one she'd utilise to exterminate the pest at the first chance she got. It helped keep a lid on her own rage and fear, at any rate. And the Doctor would get ever so grumpy and irritable if she killed their guide before she outlived her usefulness. No, she'd save it for whatever awaited them.
It was proving difficult, though. Her hearts pounded with that hateful rhythm that had haunted her for centuries, while her blood sang with the need to kill, the urge to destroy. The desperate, uncontrollable impulse to obliterate whoever had taken Clara.
So much for denial then… The Doctor's voice filtered into her mind, as her head snapped up and she realised her mental walls were lowered while she'd been focussing on her own emotions. She merely eyed him murderously, as Osgood trudged ahead.
Finally, after what felt like hours but as Missy's excellently attuned temporal senses informed her it was actually fifty-six minutes, forty-seven seconds, they halted beside a ladder leading up to a service hatch.
"If I recall correctly, we'll emerge in the factionless sector," Osgood whispered, her breathing slightly laboured.
"Ahh yes, remind us again how you knew this delightful little route through the sewers?" Missy replied, mock-sweetly as the Doctor rolled his eyes and Osgood bristled.
"I'm an engineer, I memorised the city's vital schematics when I was eleven!" she snapped.
"How comforting," Missy drawled sarcastically.
"Enough, both of you!" the Doctor snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. With a deep breath, Osgood turned her back on Missy and nodded to the Doctor.
"Will that thing unlock the hatch?" she asked.
Wordlessly, the Doctor raised his arm and unlocked the hatch. With a warning look at Missy, he gestured for Osgood to start climbing first, then Missy before he placed a foot on the ladder.
Above ground, it was deep night. The moon had disappeared from the sky but dawn was still some way off. They had an advantage in darkness, harder to spot and less Dauntless patrols than during the day. The signal from Clara's nanotech was still strong, and the program Missy had installed in the sonic leading them straight to her. They would find her.
The trio quickly got off the street and into the cover of an alleyway between two ruined blocks, hugging the shadows. "According to the sonic, Clara is located about two miles east of here," the Doctor whispered. Osgood nodded, looking slightly pale even in the darkness of the alley, while Missy merely looked bored.
But he knew better.
As Osgood moved away, the Doctor caught Missy's arm and pulled her back to him. She stared at him in mute shock, before awareness flared in her eyes and her jaw tightened. Through their link, he felt her rage, fear and hatred like a living, breathing animal, clawing at the walls of her control, weakening them. It was all the worse for her, since she was telepathically linked to Clara and was still feeling the pain and fear their Impossible Girl was feeling.
He would never have believed it, before coming here, before they set out to find Gallifrey, before Clara. Impossible Girl, indeed. She was always doing the impossible.
He smiled slightly, as he leant in and rested his forehead against hers, opening himself to her, letting Missy feel and see all his own barely leashed rage and terror for Clara, but most of all, his understanding. We will get her back…
He felt Missy's resistance, just for a moment, but the intimacy of their link wouldn't allow that for long. She couldn't hide from him, not here, not like this. With the equivalent of a telepathic nod, she inhaled deeply and they stepped back from one another, the Doctor's fingers sliding from where they'd dipped into the curls at the nape of her neck.
Ahead of them, Osgood was pretending to be extremely interested in the cracks in the pavement, as together the Doctor and Missy turned in the direction the sonic screwdriver was leading them.
Pain took up the majority of Clara's sensory capabilities as she slowly regained consciousness. She was vaguely aware of a low groan escaping her throat, as she blearily tried to assess where she was, forcing away the pain.
She was lying on something hard and cold, her arms and legs strapped down if her restricted range of movement was anything to go by, and her head and abdomen were throbbing. Somewhere close by, a machine was gently beeping in a slow, steady rhythm while something sticky was attached to her chest. And someone was talking.
"I'm so sorry for this, Oswin."
Ryan.
Memory rushed back, and Clara's eyes snapped open, and she recoiled. Ryan stood above her, an empty syringe in his hand. Above her, a bare light bulb seared her eyes, making her squint. The source of the beeping and the stickiness on her chest belonged to a heart monitor and a pad stuck to her chest, just on the rise of her left breast. The thought of Ryan touching made her feel physically sick.
"W-what is this?" she asked shakily, eyes searching the shadows around them for any further clues. "W-where am I?"
Wherever she was, she didn't recognise it. It was brick-built, dilapidated warehouse with broken windows.
Ryan went to touch her again, and Clara thrashed violently. "Don't touch me," she spat. "You killed Andrew and Ginny."
"Well, technically I killed Andrew," a second voice spoke from the shadows. Adam. "Right now, Ginny is taking a long nap. In the morning she won't remember a thing. Not the attack, not Andrew, not even you. In fact, by morning everyone in the city will have forgotten you exist, Clara Oswald."
As Adam came closer, Clara felt a vicious surge of satisfaction to note he was still limping. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice stronger.
For an answer he backhanded her across the jaw. "It doesn't matter who we are," he told her viciously. "All that matters is the information contained in that pretty little head of yours."
"Adam, that's enough!" Ryan snapped. "This doesn't have to get messy, Oswin. If you answer our questions, we won't hurt you."
"I'm not saying anything until you tell me who you are!" Clara snapped, her jaw and neck burning where her head had snapped to the left from the force of Adam's blow. That was going to bruise.
Adam stepped forward again, but Ryan held up his hand. Adam huffed and folded his arms. "Fine, try your way first. But if she doesn't co-operate, we'll try mine," he snarled, walking away and leaning against the wall, his cold eyes fixed hungrily on Clara.
Ryan turned back to Clara. "Adam and I are agents of the Bureau for Genetic Welfare. A few hundred years ago, the government modified the DNA of the general populace in order to eradicate the attributes of human nature they deemed responsible for causing so much evil in the world. Instead, it just caused another war, one which almost destroyed us. Cities, like Chicago, were set up as experiments to try and undo the damage done to our genes. Those born with pure DNA are called Divergents, and we were inserted into this society to protect them. And you, Clara, are the purest Divergent we've ever yet come across."
The puzzle pieces clicked into place, in Clara's head. The fence, the Divergents, Missy's discovery about their DNA…
"Our superiors merely want to question you. We know you are not of this world, your ship and your companions are proof of that. But if we could just learn from you, maybe we could make headway in undoing the damage so many have suffered," he finished imploringly. Clara looked up at him, but saw only Andrew's glazed, empty eyes and Ginny's prone form on the floor of that corridor.
"What did Adam mean, Ginny won't remember a thing? Did she suffer brain damage?" she asked quietly, hoping her deliberately narrow question would coax Ryan into explaining more. Ryan looked pained.
"No," he replied reluctantly. "We have ways to stopping people from remembering any…unnecessary information they might uncover. People who venture too far outside the fence, or see something they're not supposed to. Memory serums, which allow us to re-write a person's memory, if necessary."
"And Andrew? Why is he dead, and Ginny spared? Why not just kill her too?" Clara asked. Ryan winced as Adam answered.
"Because Ginny is Divergent. She's important. Andrew wasn't. And I always hated that guy," he replied, with a truly evil grin. In that moment, Clara hated him with every cell in her body. He came closer, taunting her with his proximity, as he bent over her. "Soon, everyone will forget you were here. Even your friends in Erudite. And if you don't talk, we'll make sure they will."
Clara spat at him, glad she still apparently had some saliva left to do it. It wasn't ladylike, as Linda might have shrieked in dismay, but she didn't care. It felt oddly satisfying, as rage flashed in Adam's eyes and he lunged for her. Ryan hauled him away, yelling at him.
Clara took the opportunity to test her restraints, but to her dismay they were tight and secure, barely allowing her any movement. With her legs tied down, there was no hope of wriggling free.
Clara took a deep breath, and tried to focus enough to contact Missy. She hoped she heard her cry just before she was knocked out, but she couldn't be sure. To her dismay, her head was still too fogged and she couldn't find the link. Or rather, she could feel it, feel Missy, but the link was beyond her reach, inaccessible for the time being.
At that moment, Ryan turned back to her, with a pleading expression, having subdued Adam. "Oswin, please," he breathed. "Help us, and we won't have to involve your friends. They can stay safe."
Clara laughed, mirthless and little insane. The moment the Doctor and Missy realised she was missing, which would be soon if not already, they would come for her. If the slight buzzing irritation in her eye was any indication, then they were already trying to contact her through the nanotech still nestled in her ear. She just had to hold on.
"You decide who should live and who should die, based on nothing but pure chance of whether they're born Divergent or not," she started, as Ryan's face fell and triumph flared in Adam's. "Because of you, Andrew is dead and you've violated Ginny's mind. You'll keep doing it, to everyone, anyone who gets close to exposing your secret, all to protect your sick experiment. You make me sick."
Ryan sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he replied softly.
Clara chuckled. "If you think guilt-tripping me is going to work," she trailed off. "And I wouldn't bet on the Doctor and Missy being so easy to find. They're more dangerous than you could possibly imagine."
"Yada, yada, yada," Adam sneered, as Ryan turned away from her. "We tried your way, Ryan. Now it's mine."
"Do your worst," Clara fired at him, defiantly. His sneer turned into a smirk as he went to a metal trolley at the side of the room, and picked up a small case. He removed another syringe from it, the serum inside tinged grey.
"I plan to," he told her, holding it up to the light so she could see it clearly. "You see, that memory serum comes in handy for other things too. Have to keep a tight leash on the scientists in Erudite, in case they go digging too deep, or get too clever. Every so often, we perform a blanket wipe so their simulation technology doesn't surpass our own. Can't have the lab rats getting above themselves, after all."
"An Erudite scientist accidentally discovered, while developing simulation serums for the Dauntless, that too much potency in the serum overwhelms the brain. The result: pure terror," Adam continued, the sick anticipation in his eyes growing as he moved to Clara's side.
Despite herself, as it dawned on Clara exactly what he planned for her, what that serum might do, her breath hitched.
"Fear can be far more effective than pain," he finished, lifting her hair away from the side of her neck. "Anything you want to tell us, Miss Oswald?"
"Only one thing," Clara spat, her bravado masking her growing fear. "Go to hell."
Adam smiled as he inserted the needle.
It took them an hour to walk the two miles to Clara's location, an hour of ducking and diving into the shadows whenever they heard the rumble of a Dauntless patrol.
But they'd finally made it.
They stood in the shadow of a towering building directly opposite the warehouse where Clara was imprisoned. There was no sign of movement, of activity but a dim light shone in the depths of the warehouse.
The Doctor could knock out any security cameras using his sonic, and unlock the doors, but it wasn't a weapon. If there were any guards, they'd be in trouble.
Missy and Osgood clustered behind him, the human shivering slightly in the cold night, while Missy's eyes ran over the building, assessing, calculating. She felt his indecision, and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Perhaps you should do what you do best, and let me do what I do best," she whispered.
"You're not killing anyone," he snarled.
"Why not?" she demanded. "They'll kill us on sight, no doubt, and they're doing Rassilon knows what to Clara in there. We don't have time for arguments."
The Doctor sucked in a breath, feeling a vice squeeze his hearts. There had to be another way.
"Have you made contact with Clara yet?" he asked, evading the decision for a moment longer. One look at Missy told him she wasn't fooled.
"Not yet," she whispered. "They probably hit her with a sedative, so until it wears off, her mental faculties will be numbed. It's too dangerous to use the nanotech. It shouldn't be long though, I can feel her clearer in my mind by the second-"
Missy stopped talking abruptly, her brow creased in pain as she leaned against the brick wall. Her eyes snapped shut, as the Doctor reached for her, and Osgood jumped in alarm.
A scream rent the air.
In some detached part of her mind, a corner where she was safe and untouchable, Clara heard someone screaming. It was wild and uncontrollable, piercing the air like a knife, barely pausing for breath.
Whoever was screaming was sweating too. In the hollows of her neck, intermingling with the strands of her hair, in the lines of her palms and the back of her knees. Her heart was pounding, racing faster than light, too fast, far too fast.
Pain wracked every inch of the screaming woman. Her muscles were clenched tight, fighting invisible enemies as she thrashed against the cruel restraints holding her down.
But the sedative wears off, and that's when Clara realises the screaming woman is her.
She slams back into her body with a sudden awareness of everything around her, so alert it's almost painful. The taste of blood on her tongue where she's bitten it in her terror, the ache of her muscles, screaming for relief but she can't relax.
Her heart's racing towards its death, but she can't stop it. The oxygen is rushing down her throat so fast, she can barely feel it before she is exhaling it again, in an endless scream of terror and panic.
She can't see what she's afraid of, she can't see anything, but all she knows now is the fear. The terror. The all-consuming panic.
And she can't think anymore.
She dimly hears shouting, and then hands on her body, as the pounding suddenly stops and the monitor beside her flatlines. And then, just nothing.
The screams had stopped at last. The guards, stood in the corridor leading to the room where the girl was being questioned, sagged slightly with relief. Interrogations were necessary, but that didn't mean they had to enjoy it. Unlike sick bastards such as Adam.
One of them readjusted his hold on his rifle, muscles aching from standing so long in one position. Just as he settled the weapon back on his shoulder, the strip lighting in the corridor went out.
Frowning, they tried their radios. Nothing but static.
There had only been a few guards posted since the girl was seen as low-risk, and her friends contained until they were required. Now they were wondering if their superiors had just made a mistake.
One withdrew a torch from his pocket and flicked it on.
A woman stood there, clothed in clinging but soiled purple cloth outlined with black, her dark curls artfully arranged atop her head. She watched them, her features cold and disdainful, but her eyes betrayed a predatory anticipation and a heated rage.
A shiver ran down their spines.
"Stop right there or we'll shoot!" one of the guards barked a command, but she just smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
"No, you won't," she murmured softly. Her eyes, at first so angry and murderous, softened, turning hypnotic. They couldn't look away.
Her voice was like a song to their ears as she walked closer, so graceful and assured. "You're not going to kill me," she sighed, reaching out a hand and tapping away the barrel of the rifle closest to her. "You're going to lower your weapons, give them to me and then get on your knees. Can you do that for me?"
One dropped his gun and fell to his knees immediately, but the other resisted, his mind too strong for instant surrender. The woman merely smiled and stepped even closer, her eyes willing him, compelling him to obey. "I am the Mistress, and you will obey me. Kneel."
With a shaky breath, he did so, falling to his knees and bowing his head. He didn't see the knife until it was buried in his chest. As the world went black around him, he was willing to bet his friend didn't even hear the sound his neck made as it was snapped by hands surely too dainty to be so strong.
He felt a whisper of cloth against his back as the woman stepped over him as if he was so much rubbish in the street, and then nothing.
Just nothing.
"Clara."
A voice.
"Clara, you have to wake up."
Clara looked around for the source of that voice, desperate to find it. It felt so familiar, beloved even, she just needed to find it…
Then he was there. Tall, strong and human. Danny.
"Danny," she gasped, moving towards him. "You're here."
Then she was in his arms, and all the pain and the confusion of the last few months was gone. But something still niggled at the back of her mind.
"Yeah, I'm here," Danny breathed against her hair. He moved her back slightly, and she felt tears fill her eyes at seeing him once more, face untainted by cybernetics, unmarred by pain. "But you know this isn't real, right? You know you have to go back."
"I'm not sure I want to," Clara admitted. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he sighed. "I'm not here, Clara. You're alive, you have to live. I want you to be happy."
Clara let the sob in her throat go, and buried her head against his chest. "I miss you," she shuddered, inhaling his familiar scent in deep. The aftershave she'd bought him for his birthday.
"Five minutes," he told her firmly, as she raised her head to stare at him in bemusement. "You can miss me for five minutes a day, and you'd better do it properly. You'd better be sad, I expect my five. But all the rest of the time, all the rest of the time, every single second, you get the hell on with it. Live your life, Clara, fight for it. Live it…however you want."
Clara looked into his eyes, and saw there an odd sort of acceptance, and felt peace wash over her. "Don't you soldier me," she told him, a weak smile on her lips.
"Do as you're told," he replied, with a joking smile. "I love you, Clara. Have an amazing life."
"Don't you mean a happy one?" she asked, feeling tears on her cheek. Danny's face darkened for a moment.
"I'm not sure if the two always coincide," he whispered. "Something's coming for you, Clara. But you'll get through it, you always do."
"I love you," she breathed, and his face cleared. He leaned in, and their lips met one last time.
"Wake up, Clara," he whispered.
"Was that really necessary!?" the Doctor hissed angrily, as Missy stood over the bodies of the two guards she'd killed.
"Well, right now, I'd say yes it was bloody necessary," she hissed right back, a wildness in her actions and mien that reminded the Doctor of a wildcat. Guilt gnawed at him for a moment, feeling Osgood's terror where she stood beside him, eyes wide, face pale and hands shaking. But she stayed there. "Shall we?" Missy snapped, gesturing to the door.
"You always have to make an entrance," the Doctor shook his head, as he raised the sonic screwdriver once more.
"Hark who's talking," she sniffed derisively.
Clara spluttered back into consciousness to find Ryan bent over her, pure relief washing over his face as she gasped for air.
"I got her back!" he called. "No thanks to you."
"So I gave her a little too much," Adam's voice came from somewhere behind Ryan, unconcerned and arrogant. "Now she'll know we mean business."
To her relief, Clara realised that the pure panic and terror she'd felt were gone, dissipated as quickly as they'd set in. Her heart rate slowed to normal, and she could breathe again. Every muscle ached.
"W-what happened?" she gasped.
"The strain of the fear serum was too much, and sent you into cardiac arrest," Ryan told her grimly. "Please, Clara, just tell us what we need to know. Please."
Clara exhaled tremulously, the peace of her dream breaking over her like waves on the shore, as her eyes flicked to the door behind Adam and a new voice echoed in her head. We're coming, Clara...
"I'll tell you something," she murmured weakly. "It's practically Time Lord 101. The thing about Time Lords…they like to make an entrance."
As Ryan's eyes met hers, they widened as the doors suddenly burst inwards, almost off their hinges and three figures strode through the gap. Clara heard Adam's curse, and then a cry of pain as a gunshot rang out.
Another gunshot rang out, and Ryan collapsed next to her, clutching his arm. A trickle of blood leaked from between his splayed fingers.
Clara looked sideways, ignoring the ache in her neck, to see the Doctor and Missy there, a rifle cradled in Missy's arms. "So uncivilised," she drawled, flinging it to the ground in disgust. "But one must do what one must."
There was someone else with them, but Clara didn't have time for more than a glimpse before her vision was obscured by two Time Lords.
"Doctor…" she breathed, relief in every syllable. "How did you-? Did you get my-?"
"Yes, we did," Missy winced, as she ran her hands over Clara's restraints, searching for the release mechanism. "I really need to give you a few lessons."
"Well, if you'd just pick up your telepathic mobile once in awhile," Clara joked, surprising a chuckle from both her Time Lords as the Doctor helped her to sit up.
"You ok, Clara?" he asked, an urgent need in his eyes. She stroked his cheek, her head spinning slightly after so long lying down. "What did they do to you?"
"They injected me with some kind of serum, like the simulation serums," she explained quietly. She really wanted to sleep, her body wrung out with exhaustion. "It made me…My heart stopped, for a minute."
Clara broke off, shuddering at the memory of pure fear. The Doctor's face darkened, and Missy's hands clenched into fists.
On the floor, Ryan was moaning in pain. Clara saw Missy start towards him with a murderous expression, but on instinct she reached out and clutched her arm. "No, don't!" she cried. "Don't, Missy. He didn't do it, he brought me back after I flatlined."
"Only so they could torture you more," Missy snarled, looking to Clara with desperate eyes. Clara's grip tightened on Missy's arm, pathetically weak in her current state, but it drew Missy up short. With a roll of her eyes, she threw up her hands. "Humans. Fine!"
She turned back to the wounded human, and Clara tensed in the Doctor's arms, but Missy just rendered a blow to his temple, knocking him unconscious. "He might still bleed out from that gunshot wound but he has a fighting chance," Missy told her coolly.
Clara's eyes glanced from Ryan's somnolent form to Adam's dead body, and with all her weak strength, yanked Missy to her. She pressed her lips to Missy's in a soft, gentle kiss, the gentlest they'd ever shared. A shiver raced down her spine at the contact she'd yearned for, for weeks, and she felt the same in Missy's slender frame. "Thank you," she whispered when their lips parted, and Missy's eyes were wide with shock.
The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly. "I think we need to discuss what to do next," he said firmly.
"We know where the Tardis is," Missy told Clara. "We traced the source of the surveillance to Dauntless."
"Then we only have a little time before the Bureau discover what happened here and send reinforcements after us," Clara mused.
"The Bureau?" the Doctor clarified.
"The organisation working behind the scenes here," Clara explained, realisation dawning in her eyes. "You already know."
"Something like it," Missy agreed. Quickly, they both summarised what they'd learned from hacking the data network, and Clara nodded.
"Well, definitely makes sense then," she muttered, before she finally got a proper look at the woman who'd accompanied Missy and the Doctor. Her eyes widened. "Doctor?"
"Alternate universe," was all he said. "I'll explain later. Come on, we need to get to Dauntless and find a way in."
"Girl!" Missy barked at Osgood, who'd been staring at the bodies laid out on the floor in shock. "For goodness' sake make yourself useful!"
Osgood snapped out of herself and hurried over with a strained, tired smile. "Hi," she said quietly. "Guess you're Clara then."
"You guess correctly," Clara replied, mind whirling. She spotted the first aid kit lying beside the gurney she'd been strapped to, and gestured to it. "Is there anything in there that could help me? My legs feel like jelly at the moment."
"Oh, of course," Osgood rushed to it, searching through it. "It's not really my field, but…here, try this."
She handed a syringe of adrenaline to the Doctor. "It'll do, until we get back to the Tardis," he told Clara. "It's not strictly safe, but it might make you feel ok to stand."
"Just do it," Clara said.
He plunged the syringe into her thigh, and emptied it into her system. "Right, we need to go before the alarm's raised. It must be nearly morning."
Clara carefully slid off the gurney, supported by Missy and the Doctor. She pushed them away gently, but her mind was already clearing and her body felt strong enough to stand.
"We can't just walk into Dauntless," Osgood protested. "It'll be suicide, and the Bureau will have agents everywhere on the lookout for us."
"You could go home," Clara said. "Leave us to it. They'll be wiping everyone's memories by the morning, no one will remember we even existed. You could go home and forget all this."
"I could," Osgood shrugged. "But I don't really have any friends or family left. Nothing to tie me here. And I don't really want to stay in a city controlled by some genetics-obsessed, megalomaniacal organisation that feels it has the right to summarily execute its subjects. Can I come with you?"
"You don't even know where we're going, or who we really are?" Clara stated incredulously. "And you're ready to just jump in the Tardis with us and leave forever?"
"Well I know she hates my guts," Osgood gestured to Missy, who was watching them with faint amusement, while the Doctor waited patiently. "As for the rest, I don't really care."
"Fine," the Doctor said, ending the debate. "Osgood comes with us."
"Much as I deplore your newest acquisition, Doctor," Missy chipped in, silkily. "We still haven't decided how we're even going to get into Dauntless. And I'd much rather not go through sewers again."
Clara's brows rose, and she had to choke back a laugh when she realised exactly what those stains on Missy's skirt were. Osgood and the Doctor were no better off.
Missy caught her amusement, and glared warningly. "Don't ask," she snarled, before turning back to the Doctor. "So, if you're quite finished playing with your latest pet-"
Clara could see the fight brewing, and broke in before it could escalate or Osgood get too insulted. "I know a way. I can get us in there," she said, as loudly and firmly as she could.
She had to admit, she couldn't wait to see the look on her Time Lords' faces when they realised exactly how they were going to be getting into Dauntless. They might prefer the sewers after all.
To be continued…