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“Right then. Now that you're all staying, I should probably find some bedrooms.”
“This place has bedrooms?” This from Graham, as usual sounding both in awe and disbelieving at the same time.
“‘Course,” said the Doctor. “Bigger on the inside. We've got everything.” She bounced on the balls of her feet like a giddy child and led them down the corridor that led out of the console room. The three of them followed, Yaz trailing behind with one last look at all the rotating, buzzing, sparking thingybungies that was supposedly sending them anywhere in time and space. She wasn't sure if she trusted it to be left alone, but then again, it wasn't like the Tardis was a car that needed someone behind the wheel at all times. In fact, she was quite sure the Tardis didn't need a driver at all. This ship was alive - not in the way people and aliens and spiders were alive, but alive and aware all the same - and she was sure the Tardis didn't take orders from anyone. It went where it pleased and sometimes it pleased it to take the Doctor and her companions where they wished to go.
“What, even a pool?” Ryan was asking.
The Doctor nodded with a grin. “There was four, by my last count."
“Cool.”
“Since when do you like swimming?” Graham asked.
Ryan shrugged. “It's a swimming pool. In a spaceship.”
“I prefer football meself.”
“Bramall Lane’s in here somewhere,” the Doctor said absently.
“You what?” said Graham and Ryan at the same time with equal ounces of amazement.
“I think she's winding you up, boys,” said Yaz, pleased when the Doctor shot her a conspiratorial wink.
Graham’s face crumpled a little. “Wish she'd stop doing that,” he muttered. “The Banksy thing still makes my head hurt.”
They found no swimming pools or football pitches in the twenty minutes they spent following the Doctor through endless corridors. They all looked the same to Yaz, who had gotten into the habit during her police training of building up a mental picture of any new place she found herself in. You never knew when you might need to find a quick way out. She was good at spotting tiny details - little blemishes in the paint work, a scuff mark on the floor, a crack in the ceiling. But the Tardis felt brand new. Clean. As if they were the first to walk these halls. Miles of corridors that were all identical. Or, she thought ruefully, they were just going in circles.
“Are you lost?” Yaz finally asked.
The Doctor scoffed. “I never get lost, me. Always where I’m supposed to be.”
The other three stared at her incredulously.
“Yeah,” said Graham, “but if you don’t know where you are, then technically-”
“Ah ha!” the Doctor shouted, making both Graham and Ryan jump. Yaz just put on her best disapproving police officer face and folded her arms. “A door! I bet it’s a bedroom. See? Know exactly where I am. Lost.” She shook her head as if she had never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. She bounded to the door, opened it a crack and stuck her head through the gap. “Wow, dear,” came her muffled voice. “It’s fantastic.”
“Did she just call the ship ‘dear’?” asked Graham nervously.
Ryan nodded. “I think she’s married to it.”
“How can you be married to a spaceship?” Yaz asked sharply.
He shrugged. “She’s an alien and it’s a big universe. Bound to be legal somewhere.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Yaz with a scowl that ended the conversation. She felt a wave of jealousy that was both overwhelming and unexpected and decided to put it down to sheer exhaustion and too many spiders and her mother’s incessant need to poke her unwanted nose into her love life.
“How would they even…” said Graham, his hands gesturing awkwardly in front of his face. At Ryan’s grimace, he dropped them hastily to his sides. “Nevermind.”
“You coming or what, you lot?”
They followed the Doctor through the door. Yaz didn't expect what she saw on the other side. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Something weird. Futuristic and alien like the rest of the Tardis. Except what they found was a large living area more reminiscent of a period drama. Large armchairs and tall bookcases, a fireplace of marble and dark wood (although how that worked Yaz couldn't fathom. There had been no chimney on the outside of the Tardis last time she checked). That was one half on the room anyway. The other half was an entertainment centre worthy of teenage boy’s wet dreams. Ryan’s jaw dropped at the sight of the screen that took up most of the wall.
“You've got a PlayStation,” he said clutching a black controller with a grin.
“I've got all the PlayStations,” said the Doctor. “All the games too.”
“No way!”
Yaz caught Graham’s eye and they both rolled their own.
There was three other doors. The Doctor opened one, stuck her head in, declared it was a bathroom and therefore boring (this was followed by Graham sticking his head over her shoulder and exclaiming, “That bathtub’s huge!”) and went onto the next one.
“Ah, bedroom. And ooh, bunkbeds!”
“Bagsie top bunk!” Ryan called, dashing past the three of them into the room.
“Careful, son,” Graham said nervously as Ryan began climbing the ladder. But Ryan was getting better with ladders now and only stumbled a little at the top, grinned when he threw himself onto the bed.
“Guess your bottom bunk then, Graham.” The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder.
“Eh? I'm a grown man, I'm not sleeping on that.”
“Oh, don't be a miserable old sod,” the Doctor admonished, nudging him towards the bunks. “That's my job.”
Graham huffed and sat experimentally on the bottom bed. Wiggled his bum a bit. “Hmm. Comfy. This'll do,” he said, lying down and promptly falling asleep. This he announced with a great rumbling snore.
Ryan stuck his head over the rail, peering down. “Ugh, you're joking. How am I supposed to sleep through that?”
Yaz smirked. “Earplugs?” she suggested. The Doctor just shrugged.
Ryan groaned. “Me nan was a saint.”
“Door number three must be your room, Yaz.”
They left Ryan and Graham to their snoring and went to the third room. It was bigger than her room at home and there would be no sister to share it with, which meant no one to keep her up late at night, no godawful music blaring from the speakers. Just a neat double bed, a wardrobe, a mirror. There was even a chair in one corner.
“Nice,” said Yaz with approval. “Where's your bedroom?”
“Don't know. Don't need one, really. I never sleep much.”
“But when you do?” Yaz pressed, wondering why she was so desperate to know.
The Doctor shrugged. “I'm sure one will appear.”
It wasn't the answer Yaz had been hoping to hear. She wasn't sure what she even wanted to hear. Her thoughts had been a confused jumble, nerves on edge and adrenaline running high since the moment the Doctor had successfully brought them home.
After the spiders, after showering the cobwebs away and putting on fresh clothes, hugging Mum and Dad and bickering with Sonya, all that familiar stuff, and yet she still hadn't felt right. Her short time with the Doctor, with Ryan and Graham, had changed her. Changed all of them. She wasn't sure who she was anymore, what she wanted. For the first time in Yasmin Khan’s life, she felt lost.
“Yaz?” The Doctor asked softly, breaking through her thoughts. “Why did your mum think we were seeing each other?”
Yaz felt herself stiffen, her whole body turning hot. Because Mum’s been trying to set me up with every eligible person she’s met since I came out. Boy or girl, it didn't matter to Najia Khan. But Yaz didn't say that, couldn't say it. It was the truth, but it also wasn't. Her mum was nosy, but oh so very perceptive. She had seen something, something Yaz hadn't been entirely aware of until now.
“Why’d you wonder if we were?” she said instead, realising too late how challenging she sounded. Her voice and body were gearing up for a fight while her brain panicked and flailed and advised her to keep her mouth shut. Anything you do say may be given as evidence.
“Dunno. Haven't been someone's girlfriend before.”
“It's not exactly something you do by accident,” said Yaz.
“Well, there was that time me and Queen Elizabeth… but I was a bloke then. Being a boyfriend is a bit different, though. I think. Blimey these pronouns get a bit much. You humans and your silly ideas about gender and pronouns.”
Yaz shook her head. She was used the Doctor’s tangents by now, although that didn't make them any easier to follow.
“Look, I wouldn't worry about it. It's just Mum’s way of showing she's cool with the whole bi thing.”
“What's bicycles got to do with anything?”
For a moment, Yaz could only stare in disbelief. “Not bicycles. Bi. As in bisexual… and now you're winding me up.”
The Doctor grinned. “Never did like labels.”
Yaz rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, shaking her head in fond exasperation. “You this weird and annoying to your own lot or is just for us humans?”
“Oh definitely,” said the Doctor. Her tone was light, but the grin had faded from her face. “So much so that they exiled me. More than once.”
“That really does not surprise me.” For a brief moment, Yaz wanted to ask more, wanted to know everything about the Doctor and where she came from, who she had been. But something warned her not to. Copper’s instinct or maybe it was just the way the Doctor’s eyes had grown dark. She had been on the job long enough to know when to prod a suspect and when it was best to keep her mouth shut and let the silence do the prodding for her. But the Doctor wasn't a suspect. She was a friend and any information she was willing to share Yaz would clutch to her heart and hold onto forever.
Already the Doctor had shown her so much and if the only way Yaz could repay her was to be a friend that didn't push, she could do that.
She felt herself softening as she watched the strange woman in front of her. So alien but so very human at the same time. What had Mum seen? she wondered. She racked her brains but didn't think she had acted any differently around the Doctor than she had anyone else. And of course Mum had asked about Ryan too. He was cute and he reminded her of home, something they both desperately needed during all these wild adventures in time and space. She didn't fancy him though. She didn't think so anyway.
I don't fancy the Doctor either, she thought firmly and looked at the woman in question. The most amazing person she had ever met. Oh. There was a pull, something almost like gravity that drew her - drew them all, really - towards the Doctor. It was not something they could fight. It wasn't something she wanted to fight, she realised.
“Yaz.” The Doctor warned gently, as if she could hear her zigzagging trail of thoughts. “I don't make a good boyfriend or girlfriend. It's not who I am.”
Yaz raised an eyebrow. “That's a very bleak view of things.”
“I'm not human. I don't age. Don't die. I regenerate. Human lives are so small in comparison. And around me, they tend to be even smaller. I'm dangerous. I don't mean to be. But danger is everywhere I go and the people I'm with can get hurt.”
It was a variation of the speech she had given all three of them before, warning them away from this life.
“I'm a police officer. My chosen profession is all about danger.”
“It's not the same.”
“Is this what you do?” asked Yaz. “Keep yourself distant from people. Because why have a brief moment of happiness when it will all just end in hurt? That's no way to live.”
“But it's my life,” said the Doctor although there was less strength in her voice now. “You have no idea the things I've lost.”
They were close to the edge now. That thin line between the view the Doctor projected and what was really inside. So close Yaz could almost touch it, if she dared.
“Graham lost a wife. Ryan his nan. And yet here they are.”
Everyday she saw the sadness on their faces. It broke her heart. But everyday she saw something else too. Saw the strength they gained from that loss, watched the decisions they made that they knew Grace would have approved of. They lived for her, for themselves, for people they didn't even know yet.
“You're very wise, Yaz.”
“For a human?” she said, self deprecating.
“I've met a lot of wise humans. Lots of not so wise ones too. But never anyone quite like you.”
Yaz beamed. The Doctor smiled warmly in return, the darkness in her eyes retreating for the moment.
“I can't make you any promises, Yaz.”
“I never asked you too.”
“Well… okay then.” The Doctor nodded and shoved her hands in her pockets, staring at her feet. Something about the way her hair hung down over her face made her look incredibly young. But she's not, Yaz had to remind herself. She's older than the world. Still, she felt the urge to wrap the Doctor in her arms, hold her close. That copper’s protective instinct she'd had since she was a kid. But there was no uniform to provide her with a shield, to protect against the emotions that rose to the surface and bat them away with a firm professionalism. They had to be let out. There was no outlet of routine and procedure, not this time.
Her new bedroom in the Tardis felt too big. She took a step towards the Doctor, her heart fluttering as the Doctor’s eyes flicked up to meet hers expectantly. The Doctor smelt like she always did, of old books and time. Her cheek was soft against Yaz’s lips. So human.
“Thank you,” Yaz murmured. “For everything.”
“You're welcome.” The Doctor grinned and then took Yaz completely by surprise when she pressed her own lips against hers.
Yaz felt dizzy and weak, but the good kind. It was all over in a breathless second.
“Mm,” said the Doctor, frowning as she licked her lips. “New mouth. Not sure how well it's working.”
“You'll probably need to do some more experimentation,” Yaz suggested with a completely straight face.
“Well, I am a doctor,” said the Doctor and kissed her again.
A little while later, the Doctor pulled away and said, “Does this mean I get to come round for tea at Yaz’s again? I like tea at Yaz’s house.”
Yaz smiled. “I'll even get us some scones.”
“Ooh I like scones. I think I like scones. One of me definitely had a thing for scones.”
“Speaking of,” said Yaz. “Does this thing have a kitchen?”
“Mm, sometimes. It keeps moving. I can never find it.”
Yaz shook her head. The Tardis and the Doctor just kept getting weirder and weirder.
“But don’t worry about breakfast,” the Doctor reassured her. “We can be in Paris in the morning during springtime with fresh croissants in a giffy. Can even bring your fam back some without them getting cold.”
“Mum will be thrilled,” Yaz muttered. Bringing home a friend for tea. Twice. And this time with pastries.
“Do we get to tell her we're seeing each other? I've never told a mum I'm seeing her daughter. Could be my brand new impossible thing to do for the day.”
Yaz stared at her, startled. “Are we seeing each other?”
“Dunno. Are we? I'd like to kiss you again, if that's all right. Does that mean we're seeing each other?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Yaz and let the Doctor kiss her again.
There was no promises. No declarations. But that was okay. Yaz didn't need to know the future. She'd been there, after all. Her present was more important. The feel of the Doctor’s lips. The knowing looks and smiles she caught Graham and Ryan sharing. The Doctor tugging on her hand and telling her to run.
It was life. It was all of time and space and the bits in between and Yaz would love every second of it, even the end. For endings always came. And no one knew that quite so well as the Doctor.