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yaz took in a deep breath, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. they burned slightly as she did so, reminding her that she hadn’t slept properly for around a week. at least, she guessed it was a week. it was hard to keep track of time travelling on the tardis - yaz often struggled to remember whether she’d been away from home for days or weeks at a time.
her eyes opened again, and she allowed herself to take in the view in front of her. she’d sat down in the doorway of the tardis, allowing her legs to dangle freely outside, surrounded by stars and constellations she didn’t know the name of. yaz had never felt so far away from home, but here she felt safe and comfortable, with the distant hum of the tardis console behind her, and the sound of ryan and graham’s laughter not too far away. they’d decided to wind down after their latest adventure by playing video games, but yaz always needed time to herself to reflect on whatever had happened. today had been intense, and she found that her whole body ached, and she struggled to blink away her tiredness.
“hi,” came a familiar voice. yaz jumped a little, but relaxed as the doctor sat down next to her, a steaming cup of tea in each hand. “brought you this.”
“oh, thank you,” yaz told her, a sleepy smile on her face as she took a purple mug from her.
“what are you doing on your own?” the doctor asked, taking a sip of her own drink and humming in satisfaction at the sweet taste. “we’ve all been in the games room. well, we were, but it turns out i’m a bit rubbish at mario kart, so i thought i’d come and find you.”
“thanks,” yaz chuckled. “i just needed a bit of quiet. and this is a pretty nice view.”
“oh, this is a brilliant view. two-thousand years of time and space and i’m not bored of it yet,” she beamed. her eyes seemed to twinkle as she gazed out at the stars, and yaz found herself unable to look away from her.
“it still creeps me out when you tell me how old you are,” yaz shook her head. she paused for a moment, considering her next words. “why do you spend your time with us?”
the doctor frowned now, tilting her head in confusion.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean, with humans. there must be billions of other races that are more, i dunno...interesting than us,” yaz shrugged. she wrapped her hands around the mug, finding the warmth a comfort.
“do you really think that you’re not interesting?” the doctor asked, eyebrow raised. “yaz, there are seven billion humans on your earth, and not one of them is identical to another.”
“what about twins?” yaz smirked. the doctor laughed, and yaz’s smile grew, a sense of pride building in her chest.
“okay, you got me with twins,” she grinned. “although, i suppose they’re all different, too.”
they were quiet for a moment, allowing themselves to bask in the gentle whir of the tardis and the glow of the stars and the comfort of each other’s company. yaz glanced at the doctor, whose face was bathed in the orange light from the console room. she tried to imagine the inner workings of the doctor’s brain, wondering what train of thought she was on, but her expression was unreadable.
“what are you thinking about?” yaz asked, voice hushed.
“you,” the doctor said simply.
yaz blinked. the blonde turned to face her, smiling innocently, as if she hadn’t just caused yaz’s stomach to explode with a flurry of butterflies.
“me?”
“are you happy? here, on the tardis,” she elaborated. “you’ve been...withdrawn lately.”
“of course i’m happy,” yaz answered, without even thinking. what sort of question was that? who else got the chance to fly around the universe like this? “it’s just a lot. everything we do, i mean. i just need time to myself sometimes.”
“it’s a funny old life on the tardis,” the doctor said, a faraway note in her voice. “i would understand if you wanted to go home for a bit.”
it was yaz’s turn to frown now.
“do you want me to go home?”
“no! absolutely not,” the doctor exclaimed, eyes wide. “not much point in adventuring with no yaz. don’t tell the others, but i think you might secretly be my favourite.”
“thank you,” yaz laughed, feeling heat flood her face. she hoped that the doctor couldn’t tell how flustered she was. “i’m honoured. you’re my favourite, too.”
“knew it,” the doctor beamed. she put her arm around her and squeezed gently, apparently unaware that yaz’s heart was beating a mile a minute in response to her touch.
slowly, as if she was scared of damaging the moment, yaz rested her head on the doctor’s shoulder, breathing a content sigh. the smell of wind and the tardis and something sweet (custard creams, maybe?) enveloped her as she did so, and a sleepy smile came over her face as she sat there, caught up in stars and the cup of tea in her hands and, above all, the doctor, always warm and always brilliant.
right now, yaz could think of a million, trillion things she wanted to say, an unspoken truth for every one of the stars in front of her, but she could save those confessions for another time; the doctor wasn’t going anywhere, after all. she’d always be there to listen. and so she allowed her eyelids to drift closed, allowed herself to sit in the moment, allowed herself to enjoy the presence of the impossible, beautiful woman beside her.