"So, you're still around," Missy said. She leaned over the bench Clara was tied to, taking care to avoid the slowly advancing laser beam. "From what I hear, if you die anywhere other than Trap Street — such as here and now — it'll rip all of time apart."
"That's right. Surely even you wouldn't want that to happen?"
"Completely wrong." Missy shook her head. "Time ripping open? I'd stay to watch that. Maybe open a bottle of something."
"Is there something you want me to do? Anything! Just tell me!"
Missy rested a gloved hand against Clara's cheek. "Now you're talking."