Missy sat herself on the floor of the TARDIS, under one of the control panels. In her hands a smooth wooden block with tech weaved through the wood like the bark of a partially evolved tree.

"How have you not been stranded in deep space? Some of these nodes have been dead for decades." Missy huffed, using a broach shaped tool to lift one of the nodes from the wood.

"Sonic force capacitors are considered safe as long as one third of their nodes are live." The Doctor justified.

"Besides, the're fiddly! and there's still no setting for wood." he added, annoyed that the fundamental laws of the universe were being inconvenient again.

"It's almost like they were specifically designed to be difficult to modify. . .by time lords. . .which we are" Missy called in frustration, tossing her wild hair dramatically to one side and looking at The Doctor like the idiot she knew.

She triumphantly dislodged one of the nodes, now free of the wood she could recharge it. "Besides geneious. Count the nodes, barely a quarter live."

"Then you have plenty of work to do. Don't forget your earning you're keep now." The Doctor smugly reminded her

Missy spent most of her day fighting with the intentionally difficult plank. Plucking nodes out of their casing and lazily watching them recharge before wrestling them back into the ridges of the wood. It was dull work, but supposedly it was good work.

"Hey!" Missy called to get The Doctors attention

"Hey!" She called again despite The Doctor already looking at her.

"What ever happened to that other pet you had, the feisty one that didn't like me very much"

"Friend Missy, We call them friends." The Doctor corrected, like he was correcting a child.

Missy suddenly stopped, looking like she'd been wounded. She suddenly felt like she'd been wounded. All the feelings she didn't have distractions from anymore. It hurt.

"Friend then, What happened to your friend."

The Doctor walked towards her, looking down at this amalgamation of friendships and rivalries that had culminated in this small, terrifying scottish woman.

"Clara, she had responsibilities, in her world, in her timeline. It was time for us to part ways." he explained.

"Clara." Missy tested the word out on her tongue, unsure if she had ever called her by her name.

"I almost killed her, didn't I?" Guilt stained her face like a mosaic, Intertwined with the embarrassment of having emotions and the confusion of what they were.

"You did." The Doctor agreed, offering her no comfort.

"I shoved her into a Dalek graveyard, I strung her up just to see her spin. I could have killed her and I would have felt nothing. Until now." she ranted at The Doctor who was just nodding in agreement.

"And now, something about her is stuck. Stuck somewhere in me and I don't know what that means, or how much worse it would be if she was dead." Missy admitted, her voice getting strained and high.

The Doctor sat down next to her, offering his shoulder as some small comfort.

"If you liked her you'd be in good company."

"I am in good company." Missy agreed, resting her head on his shoulder.