The Doctor takes the baby into his arms without even thinking about it, and it only occurs to him to protest when he realises he doesn’t understand why Missy of all people is handing him a baby. 

“Missy! No no no, you’re not just leaving me with that. That’s no explanation. Where did you find it? It’s not stolen from a pram, is it?”

He can’t remember how this body learned to hold a baby, but it seems to come naturally to him. A gentle hand on the baby’s back, he begins to try and console them, the small cries instantly distracting him from trying to interrogate Missy. “Shh, shh, it’s alright — you’re safe. Promise. The scary lady won’t hurt you.” 

The Mistress turns around, puffing out her cheeks and leaning forwards with her hands on her hips.

“Why not? You’re the one who actually likes the humans.” She says, “And it was just lying around near my TARDIS. She disguised herself as a shrine- apparently that’s a baby drop-off site for humans. Even I wouldn’t steal a baby from a pram.” The Time Lady explains, waving a hand in the air nonchalantly and rolling her eyes as if she wasn’t talking about something alive and more of an object.

“And I’m not scary!” She protests, affronted and pouting.

“In fact I think I’m quite adorable.” The Mistress claims, folding her arms.

“And you. You can stop saying that already. All I did is pick you up because someone left you outside my house. Would you have preferred that I left you?” She points at the baby in the Doctor’s arms. The Time Lady addresses the child in an irritated drawl, stepping a few steps closer again but far enough that the baby definitely can’t touch her.

“You’re very scary, actually. Especially to a little tiny human who doesn’t know you. Your hands are probably cold, and babies don’t like to be cold.” He talks in a softer voice than usual and keeps glancing to the baby as though conversing with them. 

“It’s okay, though, because even though whoever left you alone probably didn’t care if you got cold and lonely, you’re safe now.” He spins in a slow circle, allowing the baby to see their surroundings.

“You see the blue box over there? That’s my home, and it can be your home too, for a little while or maybe a long while. I’m not sure yet. But as long as you’re in there, you’re safe.” 

Of course! So long as it meets the prompts (and even then we allow wiggle room) and the TRC characters are obviously there you can do whatever. We’re all here to have fun!

"Doctor?" She asks, already standing and crossing the small distance between them to wrap her arms tightly around him.

"Are you alright?" She whispers into his spine, left cheek resting against his back. From this close she can hear his heart as audibly as she always does in her mind.

------------------

The Doctor hears her voice, but the sound is tinny in his ears, as if she's far away. He flinches a little as he feels her arms wrapped around his shoulders, but he doesn't shake her off. He's too busy watching his long fingers flex against the tabletop, watching his knuckles go white as he turns his hands into fists in front of him. Flex, relax, flex, relax. The rhythm is soothing to his chaotic mind.

But after a moment, he realizes she's still there, and he lifts his head a fraction.

"Yes, I'm fine... Thank you, Missy." His voice is quiet and even, as if he's hardly paying attention to the words leaving his mouth.

Send “We’re married.” for my muse to wake up in a future or alternate reality where our muses are married.

Being any other living being it would be just madness, but - –

Being her it actually made perfect sense. Narcissism in all its glory. That, and an undeniable incapacity to trust in anyone else but themselves.

The Mistress lifts her hand, stopping before she can reach the Doctor with a small, somewhat uncertain smile.

“I’m sorry- I almost forgot.” She says sheepishly, pulling her hand back.

“You don’t really seem to be one for contact this time around.” Missy comments, nose wrinkled slightly.

Her hand drifts back to her side, hovering as if to reach for him again.

He appreciates her willingness to respect his boundaries. She’s improving — he knows it.