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In the early days, when people would ask if she and The Doctor were in a relationship, Yasmin Khan would reply with a strong and resounding “no”.
The early days were different, of course. The Doctor was an enigma; exciting, adventurous, brilliant… pretty, too. But that was an afterthought. The most important part was that The Doctor was like no one Yaz had ever known, ever even imagined knowing — and Yaz felt special for having known her. In all the universe, The Doctor chose her. It was euphoric, it was dizzying… and if, when The Doctor’s hand would grab hers while on the run from some monster or alien or other, Yaz’s fingertips would buzz for days? That was neither here nor there.
Beyond all of that, The Doctor made her feel like a person again. She was alive for the first time in almost ten years, instead of merely surviving. This strange, eccentric, blonde-haired alien was her lifeline. Yaz’s bright light in the darkness.
“Can’t have a universe with no Yaz!” The Doctor’s northern lilt had wrapped around the words and said them with such sincerity. Yaz’s heart had thudded in her chest, pumping warmth from her centre outwards. For once, it wasn’t a pity declaration. For once, Yaz could feel the pure certainty of the words, as though The Doctor firmly believed with everything she was that the universe needed Yaz. For once, Yaz firmly believed that too.
A year in, when Sonya asked if she and The Doctor were in a relationship, Yasmin Khan replied with a soft and pitiful “no”.
Sonya had raised a knowing eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything more.
It was almost embarrassing, how elated Yaz felt whenever The Doctor would so much as look her way. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl, instead of the adult woman she was. And it was already hard enough to remember she was an adult with The Doctor sometimes, both in the good way and the worst possible way.
The Doctor was childish. “What’s the point in being grown up if you can’t be a little childish sometimes?” she said once, when Graham had accused her of it one day. She cited the quote to a “wise man”, and when Yaz had asked who the wise man was, The Doctor said simply “me”, and then her face split into a wide grin. It was these charms that Yaz considered the good part of forgetting she was an adult. She felt looser, less high-strung.
The bad was the dark side of the moon. The metaphorical moon, though Yaz had seen both. Every so often, in the corner of her eye, Yaz would see the slither of something else lurking beneath The Doctor’s cheery surface. The part of her that kept secrets, that refused to answer a single question, that would turn a steely, fury-filled gaze towards any and all enemies. It made Yaz feel small. It made her feel like she didn’t know The Doctor at all… and sometimes, the thought absolutely terrified her.
But by the next time The Doctor looked into her eyes and Yaz felt her heart bursting out of her chest, all her worries were forgotten. The Doctor made her feel special, and whole, and uniquely vital.
Except the times when she didn’t, but that wasn’t The Doctor’s fault.
And if The Doctor would snap at her, and shout her down, and shut her out between moments of affection, then that was okay. Even if it turned that warmth in her heart cold for a minute, an hour, a day.
When an elderly space couple asked if she and The Doctor were in a relationship, Yasmin Khan said, with clenched jaw, “it’s complicated.”
The complication, of course, was that Yaz loved The Doctor. Absolutely adored her. But she never knew where she stood with her.
They’d share a bed on occasion, and go for cocktails, and once The Doctor even won her a giant toy at a space carnival. She’d hold Yaz’s hand even when they weren’t on the run from some monster or alien or other, and Yaz’s fingertips would still buzz for days. Then Yaz would catch The Doctor tinkering at the TARDIS console, stone-faced and clearly upset, and Yaz would put her hand on her shoulder and ask her what’s wrong, and The Doctor would say with more viciousness than Yaz thought her capable “Stop asking that, Yaz.”
Because The Doctor was an enigma; exciting, adventurous, brilliant… and as it turns out, Yaz didn’t know a single thing about her.
She ached to learn more, to be someone The Doctor could lean on in her time of need… but it was a pointless endeavour, and Yaz was exhausted beyond consolation. She was both miserable, and the happiest she’s ever been, and she’s not entirely sure how that works.
...Three years in, when someone asked if she and Yaz were in a relationship, The Doctor looked over at Yaz for a moment before saying, “no. Just friends.”