A/N: I'm terribly sorry for not updating this story. I've been very stuck with writer's block, and also went back to school and became swamped with work. In quick summary of what I've decided to do with this story: I have two ongoing DW stories, and I originally started this one as an insight into the relationships between the characters, whilst the other story was more plot based. I sort of strayed from that, but I actually far prefer it that way and find it easier to write! So from now on this story will probably do a bit of jumping around rather than a very linear plot based story, I hope that's okay. Thank you all for bearing with me (and reading all of this intro) and I hope you enjoy xx - W

The table seated five, and the Doctor sat down first. He watched his three friends carefully, observing where they would choose to sit. Nobody moved for several long seconds, until Missy suddenly shot into the chair on the Doctor's left.

"Um, I'll just sit here, then," Nardole announced awkwardly, before sitting on the Doctor's right - as far away as possible from Missy whilst still sitting at the same table. Bill rolled her eyes and sat next to Nardole, leaving one chair between herself and Missy. Missy began discreetly tearing the napkin in front of her as a distraction from the all too familiar feeling of isolation spreading through her chest.

"Any drinks to start off?" A waiter asked, unknowingly breaking the awkward silence that had settled on the table. Bill gasped softly as she noticed the waiter's dark fur.

"No, thank you." the Doctor quickly replied, attempting to save Bill from having to explain herself.

"I didn't know you were a racist, dear." Missy teased. An embarrassed blush quickly spread across Bill's cheeks, and she began to fiddle with the menu in front of her. The Doctor looked at Missy disapprovingly.

"I just didn't expect..." She trailed off, realising how fruitless her justifications were with Missy.

"She's only winding you up, Bill," Nardole said, before pausing pensively. "I'm thinking about having the fish."

dwdwdw

The four ordered and then waited for their meals in an awkward tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. The Doctor sat uncomfortably in the silence, regretting that he had not considered how trying Missy's presence at the table would be. He met eyes with Nardole, who rolled his eyes in such a way that the Doctor could practically hear his judgements.

Missy's napkin creation had advanced as the tension grew. Bill couldn't tell what Missy was making, and she wondered for a moment whether it was simply a torn napkin with no design. However, Bill liked to pride herself in her ability to read people - and through this skill, she decided that Missy didn't seem to be one who would do things without intention.

"The fish?" The waiter asked, having returned whilst Bill was lost in thought. Nardole grinned and beckoned the waiter towards himself, before pointing the other three meals to the appropriate recipients.

"What is he?" Bill asked quietly once the waiter had left. The Doctor shrugged.

"A mutation from humans like you, I'd say. You lot do an enormous amount of mutating. Adapting to your surroundings." He replied. Bill nodded slowly, trying to imagine herself with fur. Her unmanageable hair was enough to deal with.

"Interesting." Nardole added through a mouthful of fish.

"Oh, yes, so interesting. Please, tell me more about furry humans." Missy said sarcastically.

Behave. The Doctor spoke to Missy telepathically. Missy huffed.

Your telepathy needs work. She replied.

What's wrong with my telepathy? The Doctor asked, honestly not at all surprised. Missy had always been far better at telepathy - the Doctor had often lagged behind in such areas.

It's weak. Missy said, refusing to explain any further.

Bill watched the two timelords eat with confusion. They seemed to be busy... doing what, however, Bill couldn't tell. "What are they doing?" She whispered to Nardole.

"Talking," Nardole replied through another mouthful. "Through telepathy." Bill nodded slowly, deciding it was not the weirdest thing she had heard. "It's rude to talk telepathically in front of your non-telepathic guests, you know." Nardole added loudly.

"Sorry." The Doctor smiled cheekily, as though caught out by a teacher in school. Missy seemed unbothered, and Bill guessed she would likely still continue to speak to the Doctor regardless.

You should give Bill and Nardole a go. They're not as slow as you might think. The Doctor added in a telepathic message to Missy.

They're humans. Missy replied with complete disgust.

And they're helping me help you, Missy. Impress me. Give Bill and Nardole a go. Missy rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

"What do you do?" Missy asked monotonously. Bill frowned.

"What?" She replied.

"When you're not with the Doctor." Missy added. She acted as though each word pained her. The Doctor watched her with an expression faintly reminiscent of a proud mother.

"Me?" Bill said, completely confused as to why the timelady would care. She looked to the Doctor, who nodded encouragingly. "Um, I work at a University. Serving chips."

"Serving chips?" Missy scoffed. Bill frowned defensively.

"Yeah, serving chips. The Doctor tutors me too. I can't afford studying there." She snapped.

"And that's it? You serve chips, you study, you go into space." Missy sighed, as though her time was being wasted.

"Yeah. That's it. Is that not enough for you?" Bill said, clenching her teeth to stop herself from starting an argument. To her complete surprise, Missy grinned. It wasn't a comforting grin - it was slightly maniacal - but it was something, at least.

"Good." Missy replied, inexplicably satisfied.

dwdwdw

"She likes to... test people," The Doctor explained later, as they all were back in the TARDIS - and Missy had busied herself with repairs once more. "To see whether they're up to her standards."

Bill frowned. "I don't need her validation."

"It's not about you being validated, it's Missy knowing who to trust." The Doctor replied. He stopped touching the TARDIS console to think for a moment. "Although, usually, those who passed the test were enslaved, and those who failed were killed." He added as an afterthought.

"What?!" Bill exclaimed loudly. "Yeah, well in case it wasn't very clear, I'm not down with either of those things."

"No, no, I just mean... it's good to see she didn't try that today."

"Oh, yeah, that's really great. Go Missy, for not murdering me." Bill said sarcastically. The Doctor frowned.

"It's progress, Bill. Missy never progressed in centuries. If she's progressed in the last couple of years... that's good." He explained.

"What's good?" Nardole asked, entering the room. The Doctor turned to fiddle with the TARDIS console.

"Definitely not you." He replied. Nardole frowned.

"And yet I clean, I cook, I babysit timelords..." he sighed.

"Where's Missy?" Bill asked.

"Still doing TARDIS 'repairs'. She's managed to replace one of the parts with some sort of... napkin?" Nardole explained. Bill smiled despite herself.

"Show off." The Doctor muttered.