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“You’re tired.”
“No, I’m not.”
“The TARDIS has even dumped a mattress in the middle of the floor, Doctor. If you won’t listen to me at least listen to her.”
“And I’m telling both of you,” the Doctor waved a wrench between Yaz and the slowly shifting pillar in the middle of the room, “I’m not tired.”
An irritated chorus of beeps echoed through the control room, and before the offence on the Doctor’s face could morph into words of retort, the lights were dimming to a much softer orange.
“Oh, I see.” the Doctor huffed, “Plotting against me behind my back are we you two?”
“We aren’t plotting, we’re just on the same wavelength. Besides, how are we supposed to plot if we can’t even talk to each other?”
“Well, you might have um..” the Doctor’s face flicked through about five different expressions before a wrench was once again pointed accusingly in Yaz’s direction, “figured… something out. She’s smart, my TARDIS, she would’ve found a way.”
Before she could blunder anymore, the Doctor turned back to her work.
“Think you’ve got a bit of sleep-deprived delirium kicking in there, Doctor. You know what would help?”
“No.”
“Sleep.”
“Yaz,”
“Doctor.”
Yaz’s gaze held sternly on her friend, and unfortunately for the Doctor, she could only ignore the feeling of eyes burning into the back of her skull for so long. When she finally turned around, the Doctor found Yaz already sitting down on the edge of the mattress, her hand rising and falling in a light pat against the soft cushioning.
“Come on. You’re knackered. I can see it in the bags under your eyes.”
The Doctor sighed. “Yaz–”
“Look, it don’t even have to be long. If you just lie down for ten minutes I’ll be happy. Please?”
A pause settled between them, filling the room and leaving only the quiet hum of the TARDIS machinery whirring smoothly.
The Doctor’s eyes wandered anywhere but Yaz for a while, until they finally settled on her companion and she set the wrench down. She refused to acknowledge the flutter of her hearts at the grin on Yaz’s face when she realised she’d won the battle.
“Fine.”
Shuffling along the mattress to make space, Yaz kicked off her boots and shrugged off her jacket as she insisted the Doctor do the same. They rearranged their pillows and the Doctor shifted onto her back, hands resting on her stomach as she watched Yaz lean down to drag the thin fleecy blanket over the pair before settling on her side facing the Doctor.
A short silence hung between them until the Doctor felt the overwhelming urge to fill it.
“So, what’s been your favourite adventure so far?”
“Doctor, we’re lay on here because you’re supposed to be sleeping, not talking.”
“Ah, but you said all I had to do was lie down. You didn’t say anything about not having a good chat. Love a good chat. So, answer my question.”
A quiet chuckle escaped Yaz as she thought on the Doctor’s question.
“You know that’s a hard question to answer, there are so many.”
“But you’ve got to pick one.”
“I bet you couldn’t pick one.”
Oh no, Yaz. This isn’t my question to answer, now come on.”
“Alright, alright!” Yaz replied with an amused huff. “Let me think.”
The quiet that settled between them this time was pleasant, the sounds of Yaz’s relaxed breathing so close helped quell the Doctor’s own anxieties and jumping hearts at the intimate proximity of her companion. She let her gaze wander briefly to catch sight of Yaz’s side profile. To the flutter of her lashes, the curve of her brow, the slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips the—
“I’d probably say all of them.”
“What?” the Doctor asked, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
“Yeah,” Yaz turned to face the Doctor, a surprised flicker flashing through her eyes at catching her friend already looking. “All of them.”
“You can’t say all of them,” the Doctor frowned, “that’s cheating.”
“I can.”
“Tell me how that works then, Yasmin Khan.”
“Well, they’re all my favourite because-” Yaz shifted, edging a little closer, hands fiddling with the blanket, “-because I’m on the adventures with you.”
The Doctor watched Yaz’s throat bob, though through her nervousness she managed to hold her gaze. It was the Doctor’s own that dropped. She let out a choked laugh as her lips twitched up in the flash of a smile. It was almost impossible to help herself when she shifted onto her side to align herself better with Yaz. Gathering the courage needed along with the will to not get lost in them, the Doctor looked up into warm brown eyes.
“You can’t mean that,” she whispered.
Yaz almost seemed offended at the response. “Course I do! How could I not? Remember what I said when I first chose to travel with you? That you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I meant that, and I always will mean it.”
“Yaz–”
“And look. I know you’re gonna say that you’re not and that ‘there’s so much I don’t know about you,’ and you’re right. I don’t. Because you don’t tell me. And I get that to an extent. I know people want their privacy, especially when someone has been through as much as I bet you’ve been. But,” Yaz sighed, “whatever it is that’s stopping you from telling me now, I can see it’s hurting you. And it worries me. That’s why if you don’t want to tell me the big things, the least I can do for you is the little things. Like making sure you lie down for ten minutes instead of collapsing in exhaustion.”
They both laugh, and surprisingly, the Doctor found hers a little teary.
“Alright?” Yaz finished.
“Yaz,” the Doctor breathed, shoving a bit of blanket aside to rest her fingertips just barely over Yaz’s own with a small smile. “Thank you.”
She watched as Yaz replied with a smile and a nod, a silent ‘no problem’ as her thumb brushed over the Doctor’s in response to the gentle touch she had proposed.
There was so much the Doctor wanted to tell Yaz, so much she wanted to say, yet fear continuously paralysed the words in her throat. So for now, Yaz’s thumb on her knuckles, the comfy mattress beneath her, and the feeling of home that her ship and her companion provided would have to do as she let her eyelids flutter shut.
“Maybe just five minutes wouldn’t hurt.” the Doctor mumbled.
“Yeah, five minutes.”