My Clara

Disclaimer: Yeah, I own nada. Otherwise Twisswald and Missfle would be canon.

Warnings: Well…one of the main characters is Missy so that should give you a clue. Oh heck, fine I'll spell it out. Explicit content, slightly creepy behaviour, some violence, and morally ambiguous relationships that I do not endorse but are ridiculously fun to write about.

A/N: So this follows on directly from 'The Witch's Familiar', with Missfle 'missing scenes' between episodes, with the occasional bit of Whouffaldi thrown in where appropriate.

Clara closed her eyes as she closed the door of her flat, letting out a tired sigh. Outside, she could still just about hear the faintest echo of the Tardis dematerialising.

She still had a headache from being telepathically plugged in to a Dalek. Frowning slightly, Clara idly rubbed her temple, trying to soothe the pain. The Doctor had told her that the nanotech had repaired any damage to her skull when he removed the feed so she wouldn't suffer any further side-effects. It had been one hell of a day.

It wasn't every day that the psychotic ex of your best mate entrapped you in a Dalek and tried to trick said best friend into killing you. Clara shuddered at the memory of it, as she recalled feeling an awful sense of hopelessness well as she tried her best to scream her identity, but hearing only that awful, soulless voice screeching 'exterminate, exterminate' instead. She had a horrid feeling of déjà vu over the whole incident, like it had happened before somehow, somewhen. If it did, then Clara didn't remember it, and she was glad she didn't.

But the Doctor had come through, as he always did. Giving her temple one last rub, Clara pushed away from the door and wandered towards her kitchen to grab some aspirin.

She didn't fee like she could sleep just yet. Even without the pain, she was still buzzing on adrenaline and excitement, her muscles still twitching from being on high alert all day. As she passed her phone, she noted the double-figure number of messages waiting for her, and groaned. Probably Mr Dunlop wanting an explanation for her sudden disappearance that morning, or Kate demanding an update on the situation. She'd handle them in the morning.

As she passed her sofa however, Clara felt a chill as a voice spoke from the shadows. "Hello again, poppet."

Clara scrambled for the lights, her heart racing again. It flicked on, illuminating her living room to reveal Missy sat on her sofa, one leg draped over the other, looking none the worse for wear considering the last time Clara had seen her, she'd disappeared into a steadily collapsing Dalek city.

Clara had a feeling her headache was about to get ten times worse.

Without another word, Clara ducked into her kitchen and headed straight for her set of kitchen knives that Linda had bought for her as a joke one Christmas. She whipped around, but Missy was right there, apparently unfazed by the knife now pressing into her neck. "Now poppet, that's no way to welcome a friend," she pouted, pressing Clara into the kitchen cabinets.

"We're not friends," Clara gasped through gritted teeth.

"Oh my dear, you're killing me," Missy rolled her eyes. "After scrambling through Dalek-infested ravines and sewers, whatever else would we be?"

Clara dug the edge of the knife in to Missy's neck warningly, but Missy just yawned. "I'd say go right ahead darling, but we both know you're no more capable of it now than you were before. So be a good puppy and just drop it."

"You tried to kill me since then," Clara retorted. Missy rolled her eyes.

"So I got a little jealous," she pouted. "So would you be if your best friend just forgot your existence for one tiny, insignificant human girl, after you saved his life, and hers, several times."

"Yeah, really feeling the love right now," Clara muttered sarcastically.

"I could have left you to die, multiple times, Clara dear," Missy replied. "But I didn't, I couldn't. You're far too much fun. Incidentally…"

"Incidentally…what?" Clara sighed, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment. Her back was jammed against the sink and her head was throbbing.

"Incidentally, if you're holding someone at knife point," Missy told her nonchalantly, seemingly unconcerned by the knife at her throat. "Best to get it over and done with quickly, instead of arguing semantics."

Clara gasped as one of Missy's hands gripped her wrist, forcing it down and away, making her gasp from the pressure. Abruptly she was forced around, and she froze when she felt the cold sting of steel against her own throat. "You don't want to lose the advantage," Missy whispered against her ear, her body pressed uncomfortably close.

"Why are you here?" Clara gasped, mind racing. "You got what you wanted, the Doctor's safe. Is this some kind of twisted revenge you're planning?"

"Oh Clara, my Clara," Missy giggled in her ear. "Maybe I want something else now…"

Clara shuddered in relief when she felt the knife at her edge drop away, hitting the sink with a clatter. Missy stepped back and turned away, her profile a taunting mockery, almost begging Clara to snatch the knife back and try again. But she knew better now, knew the Mistress would just use it to her advantage to prove her superiority again.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, deciding to go on the psychological, rather than physical, attack. "If you hurt me, the Doctor will know. He'll hunt you down to the ends of Time-"

"Oh spare me the melodramatics," Missy sighed, all but throwing herself on Clara's sofa, eying her nails as she leant back into the cushions. "He might hunt me down, but that's as far as it will go."

"He left you to die on Skaro," Clara pointed out, and then mentally smacked herself in the face for it. Just remind her of that, way to go Clara! Her headache was clouding her faculties, making her wits fuzzy. She really needed some aspirin.

"He told me to run," Missy corrected. "He told me to run, right in front of you. Rather telling, don't you think?"

Clara didn't want to admit she had a point. Unlike the graveyard, the Doctor had firmly refused to kill her when he had that Dalek gun in his hand, and he'd done it in Clara's hearing. She'd been so relieved and scared at the time, that she'd only thought about it later.

"He knew I'd survive, one way or the other," Missy continued when Clara remained silent, trapped in her thoughts. One finely manicured fingernail tapped away at her temple thoughtfully. "We've been playing this game for millennia, my dear, and we'll be playing long after you've turned to dust."

Clara recalled Missy's comments about their friendship during their tête-à-tête in the square, and grudgingly decided to let it go. She was probably right on that front, even if Clara didn't like it.

"How did you survive Skaro?" Clara asked, curious despite herself. Missy chuckled.

"Made a deal with some surviving Daleks," the Time Lady told her. "Said I'd create a Dalek-Time Lord hybrid for them if they spared my life. Didn't take long to repair one of the vortex manipulators and escape. Daleks tend to be stultifying in their predictability. Easier to manipulate."

Clara nodded. "Why are you here then?" she asked, wincing as her head throbbed particularly painfully. "What do you want now?"

"Still so suspicious of me?" Missy replied evasively, eyes lingering on where Clara's fingers were massaging her temple.

"You trapped me inside a Dalek!" Clara snapped, glaring at her from across the room. "And tried to manipulate the Doctor into killing me! I think I'm allowed to be a little suspicious after that."

Before she could blink, Missy was up on her feet and had pinned Clara against the wall. She leaned in, making Clara gasp, as she fought to get free. "Now, now sweetheart," Missy whispered. "Remember what I said?"

"Remember what?" Clara snarled. Missy smiled viciously, leaning in until her lips brushed the whorl of Clara's ear. Clara tried to ignore the shiver that rushed down her spine.

"Traps are my flirting," Missy whispered against her ear. "You're the first companion of his in centuries to do something other than bore me. I am intrigued by you, Clara Oswald. And I always get what I want, in one way or another."

Without warning, Missy kissed her on the lips. Clara shuddered and pressed back into it, mind screaming at her in betrayal. When Missy leaned back, satisfaction aglow in her ice-blue eyes, Clara tried for defiance. "I'll tell the Doctor about this," she said warningly.

"Oh my dear," Missy smirked. "I don't think you will. No, I think we'll just keep this between us girls for now."

She leaned in and kissed Clara again, with just a flick of tongue against the seam of her lips, a tempting, taunting little tease that left Clara torn. When she opened her eyes, the Time Lady was gone.

Clara blinked. Her headache was gone too.

To be continued…