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When the ducking stool broke the surface of the water, Yaz was certain her heart broke with it. It was empty; the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.
Ice cold fear grasped her stomach and squeezed, tight, unrelenting. Yaz thought she was going to throw up and the jeers and gasps of the crowd sounded like they were coming from a long way away. Instead all she could hear was the painful thump of her heart in her ears, reminding her that she was very much alive and that the Doctor might not be.
They were too late. Yaz shook her head. No, they weren’t too late; worse, they’d been borderline useless, standing amongst the crowd while the Doctor was, presumably, drowned before their very eyes. It didn't feel real and the shock left Yaz numb.
There wasn’t even a body to confirm Yaz’s worst fears. It was like the Doctor had simply disappeared. Yaz wrapped her arms around herself to fend off a chill that had very little to do with the temperature and a lot to do with the nausea rolling through her stomach.
The Doctor was gone.The idea didn’t seem possible, never mind bearable. She couldn't be gone….could she? Surely it wouldn’t end like this.
As mounting anxiety left her reeling, Yaz couldn’t help but think back to their journey together and how far they’d come. All the things they’d seen and done, which had barely scratched the surface of the realm of possibility, and the promise of things to come that had now been so cruelly snatched away. Even worse, her friend - the best person she’d ever met - had gone, too.
Yaz didn’t think she’d ever felt so sorry for herself. She felt Ryan pull her into a comforting but awkward hug and she let him, more for his own sake than for her own; the only person she wanted comfort from at that particular moment was the one person who was no longer there.
Except, suddenly, she was.
“Looking for me?”
The Doctor emerged, bedraggled, from the filthy brown lakewater as if she’d simply gone for a swim. She was absolutely soaked through and as white as a sheet as she grimaced into the watery afternoon sun, shielding her face from it. Yaz turned so fast at the sound of the familiar voice that she nearly stumbled.
“Doctor!” she exclaimed, that one word a saving grace. So distraught had she been that it took Yaz a moment to realise that what she felt now was more than relief; it was unbridled joy.
Without a second thought she legged it towards the soaking wet Doctor, slipping through the mud and barely correcting her balance in time before she practically crashed into her, wrapping her securely into a hug that she couldn’t escape from.
“Don’t think Houdini taught me how to get out of a hold this tight,” the Doctor quipped, her own hands coming to rest on Yaz’s back after a momentary pause. She didn't say a word as Yaz pulled her close, apparently sensing her companion's distress.
It was the first time they’d ever been quite this close and Yaz ignored the discomfort of holding someone so inordinately drenched to instead memorise just how it felt to have the Doctor in her arms. Safe. With her, and her alone.
After a while, though, when Yaz had refused to let go and their hug had gone on for longer than was normally considered appropriate, the Doctor finally spoke.
"It's alright, Yaz," she reassured her. "I'm fine. Just a bit damp."
Eventually, a commotion from the bank was loud enough to drive them apart, Yaz still grasping hold of the Doctor’s arm in case she disappeared again. It was unlikely, she knew, but it made her feel much better about having to let her go.
What didn’t make her feel better was the sight of bodies possessed by alien mud, advancing on the terrified townsfolk. Without a word, the Doctor reached for her hand and guided Yaz after her, facing Becka Savage head on.
Or whom she thought was Becka Savage. What she morphed into was something that would haunt Yaz’s dreams: a human in shape only, her flesh replaced by mud that shifted and moved even as she spoke in ways that taunted the laws of physics.
Yaz barely followed the conversation that followed, distracted both by the sight in front of her and the feel of a cold, damp palm in her own. They were standing so close that Yaz could feel the Doctor shivering, and she could see her narrow shoulders tremble from where she stood behind her.
But the Doctor hadn’t let go of her, and Yaz was overjoyed. She knew the Doctor was only holding on to keep her safe but she let herself get carried away with thoughts of them holding hands for fun, just because they wanted to. She was thinking about how it would feel to walk by a different lake, not one used to duck witches. Just the two of them, spending time alone together.
Would the Doctor like that? she wondered. She still wasn't sure quite what to make of the Doctor, but she knew for certain that she'd developed some kind of feelings for her regardless. Ever since her mum had asked the Doctor if they were seeing each other - and the Doctor’s response had been confused, at best - Yaz couldn’t help but entertain the thought, seeing a glimmer of hope when the Doctor didn't seem offended by the idea. Yaz knew it was probably foolish, but matters of the heart often were and that conversation had kindled something that she'd cultivated carefully, keeping it hidden rather than squashing it completely.
Because if one thing was for certain, travelling with the Doctor was unexpected. It would be foolish to completely ignore the prospect but Yaz had made a conscious effort to keep her thoughts to herself, as a compromise. It would be embarrassing to admit them aloud if it meant she could no longer travel with the Doctor at all, and she didn't want to risk losing that for the slight chance that the Doctor might reciprocate her feelings.
Still, Yaz couldn't help but indulge herself in the luxury that accompanied the simple gesture of holding the Doctor's hand.
But it transpired that daydreaming in a life-threatening situation was really not a sensible thing to do because the next thing Yaz knew, she was flat on her back and looking up into a concerned face. A face she rather liked the look of, even from that awkward angle.
“Yaz, you’re alright,” the Doctor breathed in relief, question and statement rolled into one. "We were knocked out. Not sure how long for," she grimaced, and Yaz watched as the muscle in her cheek tensed as the Doctor suppressed a shiver.
Yaz flinched as a cold drop of water dripped from the Doctor’s wet hair to land on her cheek. The ground beneath her was cold, too, and Yaz eagerly accepted the Doctor’s assistance so that she could get off it before the chill seeped into her bones. The move made her dizzy.
“Take it easy,” she urged. “Haven't had a hangover like this since the Milk Wars of Keston Five.”
As Yaz put a hand to her head to try and stop the world spinning, the Doctor gave her a once-over. Yaz assured her she was fine, even if it suddenly had become a little hard to breathe. Being subject to such intense scrutiny was something she wasn’t accustomed to and the fact that the Doctor was the one doing it…
“Can you wake the others? I need to dismantle that,” the Doctor gestured to the ducking stool. Rather than question why, Yaz nodded, realising belatedly that the Doctor had woken her first. She tried to hide her grin as she woke Ryan, who was thoroughly confused, and, finally, Graham.
Yaz listened as the Doctor postulated about precisely what had happened to Becka Savage, chipping in when needed and helping in the task of breaking up the wood they’d need to resist the Morax. But when the Doctor shivered so hard her teeth chattered, Yaz abandoned the wood in her hands and glanced at the others pleadingly.
“You alright there, Doc?” Graham asked, frowning when he saw her tremble.
“Yeah, you look kinda cold,” Ryan agreed.
“I’ll be fine,” the Doctor insisted, pursuing her task with nothing less than her trademark enthusiasm. But Yaz could see that she was struggling; her hands were no doubt numb with cold by now, and her fingertips looked almost blue. It wasn’t surprising, really, given her repeated dips in freezing cold water in the middle of winter. They’d not even stopped to warm up.
“Do we have time?” Yaz asked, prompting the Doctor to pause.
“For what?” The Doctor’s confusion was mirrored by the others, and Yaz found herself flummoxed by the sudden attention, wishing she’d expressed herself better. But she persevered when she saw goosebumps on the Doctor’s exposed arms.
“To get you warm.”
The Doctor’s mouth opened silently.
“I’m okay,” she replied, but Graham shook his head.
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here,” he replied. “Me and Ryan can break this up.”
“It’ll be a lot quicker if I help, though-”
Whatever the Doctor was about to say was lost to the ether as Yaz boldly cupped her cheek. As she’d expected, the Doctor’s skin was like ice beneath her palm, even as Yaz felt her own cheeks grow warm. She’d intended to stop the Doctor’s arguments as efficiently as possible, but she hadn’t given much thought as to what would happen once she caught her attention.
“You’re an icicle,” Yaz stated, injecting some confidence into her tone. If the Doctor wasn’t going to look after herself, the least Yaz could do was try.
“Maybe a bit chilly,” the Doctor admitted quietly, out of earshot of the others.
“Was that so hard?” Yaz chided gently, reluctantly letting her hand drop. It felt like she’d made progress, of a sort; the Doctor never admitted to being anything other than fully functional and entirely capable.
“The sooner you get warm, the sooner we can sort this properly. We need our Witchfinder General back in action,” Yaz smiled, feeling butterflies erupt when the Doctor returned it.
“It’s a very flat team structure.”
“So you keep saying. So you’ll come with me? Back to Willa’s?” Yaz turned to Willa then, hoping the young girl would put two and two together.
“There’s wood by the back door,” Willa replied. “If you need to start a fire. I’ll stay and help the others.”
Yaz raised an eyebrow and the Doctor finally acceded when Graham chipped in.
“Go on, Doc. Go and get dry. You look like death warmed over.”
Even so, that didn’t stop the Doctor from chatting animatedly as she and Yaz made their way back to Willa’s home. Still, Yaz could hear the tremble in her voice amplify as a biting wind cut across the field, and she drew closer to the shivering woman beside her.
“Nearly there,” she muttered, relieved to see smoke drifting lazily from Willa’s chimney. She didn’t much fancy her chances at starting a fire from scratch and she needed to get the Doctor warm sooner rather than later.
Except when they made their way inside, there was an awkward pause. The room was a lot warmer, Yaz was relieved to note; but the Doctor was still dripping wet and shivering even more violently than before, which seemed counterproductive.
“You don’t have any dry clothes, do you?” Yaz thought aloud, realising the flaw in her plan.
“Just need to sit by the fire for a bit,” the Doctor offered, and Yaz felt the awkwardness grow as the Doctor pulled up a stool next to the hearth. Yaz had engineered this situation but now that she was in it, she realised she didn’t have a clue what to do. All she did know was that she was alone with the Doctor, who needed her help. Yaz straightened her shoulders and scanned the room.
Help. She could help.
With relief, she spied a pile of blankets and picked up a couple, unfolding the first as she neared the Doctor, draping it carefully around her shoulders. The Doctor reached for the material to pull it closed but fumbled with it, her fingers white as bone. She shivered in a way that wracked her whole body and Yaz’s heart clenched at the sight. She laid her hand on top of the Doctor’s, helping her without a word.
“Thanks, Yaz,” the Doctor stuttered. “Don’t know...why I’m so...cold now, thought it’d...stop.”
“It’s a good thing,” Yaz said, pulling up a stool of her own so that they were sitting right next to one another. It didn’t take long for the heat from the fire to take the edge of the chill off. “Means you’re not hypothermic.”
“Don’t get...that.”
Yaz rolled her eyes.
“Really. ‘M good with cold.”
“That may be but even you must feel it after a day spent swimming in this weather,” Yaz retorted, unable to bear the shivering body next to her any longer. She wrapped an arm around the Doctor’s back, reaching for her arm and rubbing it as she tried to get her warm again.
“Swimming. Good at swimming,” the Doctor muttered, sniffing slightly. Yaz wondered if she ever got ill. When the Doctor turned to look at her, Yaz realised they were incredibly close. So close that she could feel the Doctor’s breath on her cheek. After a beat, the Doctor turned away and Yaz resumed breathing.
“But not in my boots,” the Doctor continued, struggling to kick them off without the aid of her hands.
Reluctantly, Yaz let go.
“I’ll do it.”
She could feel the Doctor’s gaze on her as she tugged off her waterlogged boots, and her stripey socks.
“Your feet are like ice cubes,” she realised, briefly warming them with her hands before she realised that she’d probably crossed a line of some kind with such an intimate gesture. Instead, she reached for the other blanket, wrapping it around the bare skin and rubbing vigorously to restore some warmth.
Even then it still felt a bit overfamiliar, and Yaz swallowed hard as she realised the Doctor was watching her quietly. In fact, she’d never known the Doctor to be so quiet. Even when they’d hid in a panelled alcove together at Kerblam, the Doctor had regaled them with several stories that had sent Ryan to sleep. Yaz, however, had hung on every word, not least because by that point the Doctor had shuffled up next to her so that she could keep her voice low as Ryan snored. The contact had been so prolonged that Yaz had eventually relaxed into the touch and when they finally had to move, even the Doctor had seemed reluctant to move away.
“You cold anywhere else?” Yaz asked, wishing the Doctor would say something other than just looking at her like that. She could handle a chatty Doctor. Then she at least knew where she stood.
“I guess...here?” the Doctor frowned, hugging herself underneath the blanket. Her voice sounded stronger, Yaz was relieved to hear. “That hug you gave me earlier. That was nice.”
Her voice was wistful, Yaz realised, as she tucked the blanket around the Doctor’s feet and got to her own.
“First proper hug I've had in ages,” the Doctor admitted, and Yaz wondered just how long it had been. It was the first time she’d hugged the Doctor, and she’d not thought to ask how long the Doctor had been travelling before she met them. She’d never seen Ryan or Graham hug her. But Yaz...Yaz hugged people all the time. She’d hugged her mum goodbye that very morning. Suddenly Yaz wanted to hug the Doctor more than anything. Every second that passed without one pained her.
“Would you like another?” she asked, hopefully.
“Yes, please.”
“One hug, coming up,” Yaz warned jokily, easing herself back onto her stool and pulling the Doctor into a hug that was probably a little awkward but hopefully just what she needed.
“Better,” the Doctor muttered into her shoulder, and Yaz could feel her arms shifting under the blanket as she tried to return the hug.
“Hang on.”
Yaz eased the blanket from the Doctor’s shoulders so that it wrapped around them both instead, enclosing them in warmth. She could feel the Doctor’s damp clothes pressed up against her own but she was warmer, at least, and the fact that they were so close meant that Yaz could easily ignore any discomfort.
If the others had walked in at that point, Yaz wondered what they’d have made of the sight that greeted them: Yaz and the Doctor, sharing a blanket and hugging by the fire. It was borderline romantic. Yaz could feel her heart start to do something funny inside of her chest. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.
“You smell nice,” the Doctor hummed, shifting so that the tip of her cold nose brushed against Yaz’s neck. It was a seemingly innocent move but Yaz gasped at the sensation and the sentiment.
“Sorry,” the Doctor murmured, pulling back to look Yaz in the eye and gauge her reaction. Her hair was drying in a way that made it look so fluffy and soft that Yaz was glad her hands were otherwise occupied or she’d have reached out and touched it.
“‘s ok,” Yaz replied, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat as subtly as she could, unable to ignore the way the Doctor’s gaze drifted to her lips when she licked them.
Nothing there, Yaz, she scolded herself.
“Yaz?”
The Doctor’s voice was quiet but it was also the only thing Yaz could hear. They were so close that all of Yaz’s senses were full of her.
“Hmm?” she replied, not trusting her words. Her thoughts were rapidly spiralling and the Doctor’s eyes were so striking up close that Yaz couldn’t string a sentence together if she’d tried. It was like they held entire galaxies, but the kind that were off limits. To look at them and know she’d never truly understand was almost torture.
“My lips are cold, too.”
The words landed and Yaz gave herself a mental pinch at the Doctor’s boldness. Surely she knew exactly what she was doing? The words were innocent enough but the way she was looking at Yaz was nothing of the sort.
Then Yaz threw caution to the wind; they were so close that it didn’t take much for her to lean in. She paused nonetheless, giving the Doctor a chance to move away; she did not.
“We can’t have that, can we?”
Yaz’s voice was trembling now, almost as much as the Doctor’s had been earlier but for entirely different reasons. So much for being smooth . The situation felt like some strange fever dream but even if it was, Yaz wasn’t going to let opportunity slip through her fingers.
Their lips hovered so unbearably close that when they finally did meet, Yaz heard one of them moan in relief. She was certain it was the Doctor but then she realised she didn’t much care when the cool lips against her own started to move, and a careful hand crept around to reach for the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer.
At some point, the blanket fell away but the kiss had turned so heated that neither of them noticed. Yaz had no idea when one kiss ended and another one started but they moved so seamlessly together, so in sync, that it came as naturally as breathing. For a long moment all Yaz could hear was the quiet around them, the gentle sighs and moans they made together as they finally gave in to something that Yaz had never truly thought possible.
The Doctor sighed softly as they pulled apart just enough to catch their breath.
Yaz was so dizzy that she dipped her head, resting their foreheads together as they both laughed giddily.
“Wish we’d done that sooner,” the Doctor admitted. “A lot sooner.”
“We can make up for it,” Yaz replied, encouraging the Doctor’s lips back to her own with a gentle nudge.