#longwayaround

@longwayaround ft. Tenth Doctor

She stripped the long-shirt off, tossing it on her backpack, a tank top underneath to keep from flashing the Doctor. Though perhaps that was an idea for next time - something to consider.

And without a second thought, climbed into the space the Doctor left for her. Tucking herself into a comfortable position where her legs curled toward her chest. A habit from childhood; comfort at the price of her knees.

"Oh my dear Doctor, if only you could see what was right in front of you," Missy was laying on a brick wall on her stomach, head resting in her hands and legs kicking in the air as chaos raged around the two of them. She sat up, and gracefully hopped off the wall. Could he see her? Does he recognize her now that her plan was unfolding?

Her plan, well, that was a good one. She might've dropped a bit of psychoactive pollen into the atmosphere of the planet where the local population was a highly psychic species, and now they were rebelling against their governments. It was all so funny to watch!

"Work. Well, work for me, I don't know what you're doing here." She retrieved a thermos of water from her pack and opened it for him, holding it out to the rather disheveled Doctor. "Need to collect some soil samples for a colleague to see if it can help figure out why this planet in a few years has a tribe that suddenly disappears. No one has ever been able to place why."

After her explanation, she reached into her bag to check her diary, using the spotter's guide she had the beginnings of to make sure this was the Tenth Doctor. Looking at the picture then back up at him drinking water, she had made the correct assumption. Good job, self.

@longwayaround ft. Yaz

She propped herself in the corner of the spare TARDIS after breaking in, shoes off and diary out as she wrote a line or two about what exactly seemed to be the case currently.

The Doctor not there at all, the message in which River received that left her with more questions than answers. And she hated when that happened, she thought they were relatively over the whole 'leaving my wife out of my business' business.

Rose had gone to bed. She was sure of it. She was lying in bed while John "slept". He mainly just laid with her until she fell asleep. He was sort of the middle between Time Lord and Human when it came to his sleep needs; he needed less sleep than humans but more sleep than a Time Lord. That and she suspected some of his memories kept him up at night too, just like hers.

However, tonight, she found herself wide away for an unknown reason. She felt like something was going to happen. She didn't feel anxious, but she felt anticipation like UNIT was going to call. Or...

Or an adventure with the Doctor.

Even though she had John, sometimes she still longed for the adrenaline rush travelling with the Doctor gave her. Sure, UNIT had life or death situations with stuff coming through residual fractures in the Universe, but at the end of the day they just went back to ordering pizza, bed, then paperwork the next morning. She sometimes longed for the freedom the Doctor had.

She knew John was doing his best to grow his own TARDIS, but it would still take years.

Rose finally closed her eyes. She felt a whoosh. When she opened them she was standing on the TARDIS. No, not the one John was building, but the familiar coral columned, metal-grilled floor, glowing green console TARDIS belonging to that of the Doctor.

You can't be here.

"Ugh, I think I hit my head." The Time Lord groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing the lower part of his head and upper neck. Ganymede thought back, trying to remember what had happened over the past few hours, but for the most part, it seemed mostly a blur. He could remember he was running from something.

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and breathed slowly taking in the cold laboratory air. She hadn't slept in almost a week and it was taking a toll on her more than it would any other Time Lord without a failing regeneration. The only sounds, besides that of her own breathing, were the whirl of the centrifuge performing a test and the clicking of the machine she'd built to measure localized time distortions.

She was dealing with two mysteries at this hospital.

One was a mysterious illness, patients, doctors, and visitors alike were falling ill with what originally presented with symptoms similar to the flu, but then they got worse. She managed to keep them stabilized at least. But for how long, she feared?

The second was what drew her here in the first place. Her TARDIS had almost crash-landed due to time distortions. Someone or something was tearing open time portals in and around the hospitals and she had no doubts that it was why people were getting sick. If she could only find the source and put a stop to it everyone would be cured. But they'd so far been one step ahead of her.

The beeping of her scanner disturbed her moments from falling asleep. Another time distortion in the basement of the hospital. She quickly returned down there. With a pocket scanner held out in front of her, she reached the area and began to scan for the portal.

Soon, she found it. She could even see the atmosphere trembling as time shifted in the area. She felt it as the hairs on her skin stood. Her temporal sense warned her to keep back.

@longwayaround said: ❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜ (from the spymaster)

Missy made a begrudging sound but sat up properly to allow for him to fix her hair--which he seemed to have a much bigger problem with than she did. It was hard to get a brush through it, a mane of curls that refused to curly nicely unless she went through the work of keeping her arms up for what feels like hours and her hands having to get wet and sticky.

Straightening it was much easier.