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Yaz paced nervously around the console room, unaware of the pair of eyes watching her from a darkened corridor. Really, she needn't be so anxious, but the question plaguing her mind threw her into a spiral of worst case scenarios.
It was only a small favor, nothing she'd usually bat an eyelid over. But, the person she wanted to ask happened to be the best person she'd ever met.
Suffice to say it was a bit daunting.
There wasn't anything bad about what she wanted. No, it was a simple task she could do herself if she wanted. Only this time, she wanted that person to do it for her. To be close to her in a moment where no threat existed and it was just the two of them.
Get a hold of yourself, Yaz, she scolded herself.
The set of hazel-green eyes watching her warmed as they saw how clearly worried she was about whatever was floating around in her head. Their owner took a step forward, into the light, making herself known.
"Yaz?" The Doctor said gently. Despite her best attempt not to make her companion jump, she did just that. The blonde smiled, and moved closer to Yaz. "Sorry. You okay?"
"Yeah, m'fine." Yaz answered rather quickly. Seemingly rethinking what she'd said, she made eye contact with her friend briefly. Her hand rubbed at the back of her neck, "Well…"
The Doctor's head tilted to one side, a mixed look of worry and curiosity etched in the space between her brows.
"What is it?"
Yaz looked at her again, longer this time, and sighed.
"I were wondering," she began, before deflating slightly. The Doctor waited patiently, making sure to give a warm and soothing look to Yaz as she pondered how to word her request.
"Could you, um, plait my hair?"
Such an innocent request shouldn't have made Yaz's face grow hot and red. She looked to the Doctor for any sign of resentment, though distantly she wondered why she thought that the Time Lord would deny her.
The Doctor smiled wide, "Yasmin Khan. I'd love to plait your hair."
Yaz's anxieties instantly assuaged, she beamed back.
Taking a seat on one of the stairs, the Doctor beckoned her closer. Yaz perched herself slowly below the blonde and between her knees, a light blush dusting her cheeks.
"Any preferred style?" The Doctor questioned, as if she were a hairdresser and Yaz was one of her many clients.
Yaz hummed, "No, you can do whatever."
"Great! Plaiting Yaz's hair - amazin'."
The Doctor decided to take the easy route, parting the dark hair into three segments. She ran her fingers through each one, revelling in the soft waves they held.
Yaz leaned back into her touch. This was the closest she'd been to the Doctor in a long while, and she was loathe to let it slip by without letting her know how appreciative she was.
It didn't take long for the plait to reach completion, much to each woman's chagrin. Not wanting this moment to end, desperate to cling to any sense of domesticity between them, neither one made a move to leave.
That is, until Yes yawned and it became apparent how tired she was from the day they'd had. She stood, reluctantly, before turning to face the Doctor.
"Thank you, Doctor," she very briefly let her gaze fall to soft, pink lips. "Really."
The Time Lord flushed under her watch. Before she could process what she was feeling, Yaz leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.
While she stammered and turned an even brighter pink, Yaz chuckled and started walking away.
"Goodnight, Doctor."