whatâs that song from cats? | @yeaseeya
     â This was something she hadnât exactly pictured herself doing anytime soon. Honestly, before a week ago standard Earth time, Missy hadnât even really known this woman had existed other than a name sheâd heard once in her past Regeneration. Some silly old human, a friend of the Doctor, had asked if she was alright. The Doctor calling this woman his âbest friendâ.
       At the time, The Master hadnât been certain what had made him more angry.
       The Mistress, on the other hand, was a bit more curious. Focused. She wanted to know more about this person, why the Doctor had kept her, and why he made her forget him.
       Sheâd been following her for a good chunk of the day. All-in-all, it was honestly so very dull, but perhaps that had been the point. Woman fed up with her dull, meaningless, humdrum life meets the Doctor and off you pop, adventure away! Missy couldnât blame her, really. She hadnât been the first, after all, and she certainly wasnât the last. Such was the life of an effective immortal travelling with a bunch of humanoid goldfish.
       Regardless of the circumstances, this was good. Missy would be able to interact with this woman without her being obsessively biased with the Doctor, thinking she knows him oh so well when sheâd only seen a tiny grain of sand in the hourglass. Sheâd be able to get a feel for her, see what the Doctor saw. Sheâd set up at a little cafe`âan easy place to just casually stumble across a person when they just happened to be walking in your directionâwith a tarot deck sheâd snatched from a bookshop; lots of old, dusty books in there, superstitious nonsense, occult books, human books trying to tell the future. It was quaint.
       Bit shouty, this one. Firecracker, definitely, in spite of the painfully mundane goings-on of her day. Mustâve been a sight watching this tetchy little human barking at the Doctor when he was too far up himself.
       A shame she hadnât gotten to see it.
       âOi!â She snapped her fingers loudly when the redhead came close to her table out under the awning, shaded from the sun. âTell ya fortune, dear? No charge! Yâgot thisâŠ.a u r a about ya. Have a sit, letâs see whatâs cominâ up in yâfuture~â
It was one of those never ending days for Ms. Donna Noble and the time only read 10:30 AM. One would think a business that was often ignored and/or replaced with one of those... what did you call them? Roomba? Yeah, that was it-- a business that was often replaced with the newest roomba WOULDNâT leave you with a migraine, but no such luck. The whole point of having a job was to have a job, after all, and with nothing to do around the office or the outside world the other employees- all men- were left to their own devices.
Enter: Fart jokes -- yeah, grown men were happily making fart noises with their hands. Donna, the secretary who was sat directly in front of them, could only listen to so much before she had to get out of there and that was how she ended up where she was now. Going home was an option too, of course, but doing so would get her up to her neck in complaints from Sylvia. Thatâs what working IS, Donna! Frustrating! Talking like Donna wasnât in her early forties. Nope, she was perfectly content putting that seemingly unavoidable argument to the side for a few hours.
ESPECIALLY when she remembered how she skipped breakfast that same morning in a pathetic attempt to not get stuck in traffic. Fat lot of good that did. The beautiful idea of getting some food in her stomach fell apart almost instantaneously, though, when she realized a... somewhat odd looking woman was snapping her fingers the way people did when they couldnât think of a better way to get your attention. Pressing her lips into a hard line, and against her better judgement, Donna warily approached the table.
âIâm givinâ you two minutes, miss.â Later on she would ask herself why she didnât put up a fight just now. Someone youâve never seen before talking about telling your future completely out of the blue when you hadnât even been looking at them? Bit of a red flag, that. Still, Donna couldnât always repress the curiosity bug sheâd had for a number of years now. She put her hands flat on the table and took a seat.  âWow me.â
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