Work Text:
The Vault doors groan as they shut behind him, sealing the Doctor inside. The familiar hum of the forcefield crackles to life, locking Missy in place on her raised platform - a plateau of polished stone and dark temptation.
She’s exactly where he expects her to be: sprawled across the black piano like a lazy predator, one leg draped over the side, the other bent just enough to let her boot dangle in the air. Her fingers tap idly against the ivory keys, striking out an aimless melody, something dissonant, something teasing.
But the moment she sees him, she stops.
“Ooooh.” Her lips curve slow and sharp, her head tilting as she gives him a once-over. “And who let you out looking like that?”
The Doctor sighs. He’s already regretting coming down here.
“Like what?”
Missy lifts a finger and gestures vaguely at all of him. “Oh, you know what.” She slides off the piano in one sinuous motion, landing gracefully before stalking toward the very edge of her confinement. “The rain, the curls, that terribly tailored waistcoat clinging in all the right places.” She flicks her eyes over him, slow and assessing. “And that air of brooding self-denial? Mwah - perfection.”
The Doctor rolls his eyes, shrugging off his coat and running a hand through damp hair. “Honestly, Missy-”
She presses both hands against the forcefield, stopping him in his tracks. “No, honestly, Doctor-” she mimics his voice, then grins. “You can’t just come in here looking all… appetizing and expect me not to notice.”
“Appetizing.”
“Delicious,” she purrs. “Positively devourable.”
He scoffs, moving toward the small table where he usually sits. “Missy, I swear-”
“Oh, don’t swear, dear, it’s unbecoming.” Her voice turns soft, a sultry hum as she leans into the invisible barrier. “You know, I wouldn’t even bite - not hard, anyway. And if you turned this little wall of yours off for one second…” She drags a finger along the edge of the forcefield, letting it crackle beneath her touch. “I could show you exactly what I mean.”
The Doctor sets his coat down, fingers tightening just slightly around the fabric. “You are insufferable.”
Missy presses her palm flat against the barrier, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Go on, then. Let me out. Just for a moment.”
He exhales sharply through his nose, unimpressed. “I just got dry.”
“Mmm. You know what would dry you right up?” Her grin turns wicked. “A kiss.”
His jaw tightens.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she coos. “I’d even let you pick where. Cheek?” She tilts her head, tapping her face. “Forehead?” A slow smirk. “Lips?”
The Doctor stays silent.
Missy sighs, spinning away with dramatic flair, her arms outstretched. “Oh, fine. Keep your silly forcefield, keep your silly morals.” She trails her fingers along the piano’s surface, pressing a single low note. “But next time, don’t act so surprised when I want to sink my teeth in.”
And for the first time, just for a moment - he hesitates.
Like maybe, just maybe, he wants her to.