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Yaz and the Doctor slept long and deeply that first night back on the TARDIS. When Yaz finally woke up the following morning, the other side of the bed was empty, but she could hear the shower in use, and the Doctor’s boots were still abandoned beside the bed where she’d taken them off the previous night.
Yaz was part way through a deeply satisfying stretch when she heard another sound emanating from the en suite bathroom – singing. Not bad singing, but not good either. Enthusiastic would be the word Yaz would have chosen to describe it, and she began to chuckle as the chorus of Livin’ On A Prayer not so much drifted as roared from the adjoining room through the closed door.
All of a sudden, her brain properly woke up, and she sat bolt upright in the bed, remembering the events of the previous night and realising the Doctor was on the other side of a single door, having a shower in Yaz’s bathroom. Her brain resumed its previous action of screaming incoherently at her and refusing to offer up any useful suggestions as the shower was turned off and followed by a serious of bangs, clanks and crashes. The plus of Yaz’s brain being currently occupied by complete panic was that it was also incapable of imagining what was going on in the bathroom at that point, but she leapt from the bed and had managed to grab some clothes when the door flew open, and from the cloud of steam that burst into the room, the Doctor emerged.
Yaz stopped like a rabbit caught in headlights, clutching her clothes in front of her like a safety blanket. Thankfully the Doctor was fully dressed, her damp, unruly, unbrushed hair and pink cheeks the only evidence of the fact that she’d been showering.
“I had the best night’s sleep in ages!” she announced with delight, and Yaz had to admit that she looked a lot fresher than she had yesterday. “Were you waiting for the bathroom? I take ages in the shower, sorry, love a good sing!” Yaz opened her mouth but no words came out.
“I’d better go check the Old Girl is ticking along alright in the control room,” the Doctor continued, chuntering happily about the various parts of the console she was going to check as she wandered out of Yaz’s bedroom and down the corridor. Yaz poked her head out of the door to watch her go, still speechless. And as she turned to head back into her room, she realised Dan was standing in the middle of the corridor staring, his mouth hanging open. Finally Yaz’s brain permitted her to speak and all her words came out in a rush at once. “It’s not what it looks like we were only sleeping nothing happened…” but Dan merely smiled the broadest smile she had ever seen in her life, winked knowingly and turned to head back down the corridor, leaving Yaz continuing to call after him in an increasingly futile manner, “No, really, it was just…” she fizzled out, realising her face was blazing with embarrassment, and headed back to take a somewhat cooler shower than normal, trying not to think about the Doctor being in there merely minutes ago.
A refreshing shower followed by some toast and a cup of tea did the trick of reviving Yaz enough to feel a little more control over her emotions. She had survived three years separated from everyone she loved, she knew she was stronger than she had felt the previous night (and indeed that morning!) She headed into the control room feeling far more confident about her ability to keep her feelings in check and not end up in another panic. This was aided by the fact that Dan was already in there, with the Doctor explaining in great and intricate detail about the function of a particular part of the console. His face spoke volumes about how he was not understanding a single word the Doctor was saying but was trying to be polite and pretend he did.
“She’s having you on, Scouse,” Yaz said conversationally as she walked down the steps. “That’s the light switch!” she laughed.
“Yaz!” exclaimed the Doctor in mock disappointment, though she couldn’t hide her smile as Dan put his hands on his hips.
“Are you two ganging up on me?” he accused, causing the two women to look conspiratorially at one another.
“No,” admitted Yaz, “But we might do now!” she added, nodding at the Doctor, who nodded back and walked around the console to stand next to Yaz, so they were both grinning at Dan in tandem.
“Oh I see how it is,” Dan responded. “Well two can play at that game. Or is that three?”
It was at this moment that the TARDIS intervened and gave a small judder accompanied by a gentle trill.
“Ooh we’re here!” The Doctor immediately leapt into action, adjusting various controls on the console. Yaz wandered up and read a few readings herself.
“Iceland?” she questioned. “I’ve always wanted to go there and DON’T say anything about supermarkets!” she added looking pointedly at Dan, who held up his hands in mock surrender.
“We’re going to freeze,” he suggested instead, at which the Doctor looked up with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.
“To the wardrobe hall!” she called.
*****
What the Doctor called a wardrobe hall was more like an extensive warehouse complex on several levels with no apparent system of organisation. Even though Yaz had used it several times, she’d had to rely on the Doctor to guide her to the sort of things she was looking for, and today was clearly going to be no different. Fortunately, this time Dan could ask the questions so she didn’t have to feel too much like a failure for not knowing how to find things yet.
“So where is the cold weather gear?” he said as they stood by the door, gazing at the seemingly endless expanse of clothing.
“I think it’s next to the beach wear,” the Doctor mused, causing both Dan and Yaz to look at her, unsure whether to believe her or not. But she strode off and they had little choice but to follow.
Yaz was not expecting the Doctor to make more than a token adjustment to her own clothing. She was remarkably attached to the ensemble she’d picked for herself all those years ago in a random Sheffield charity shop. Yaz, however, loved the opportunity to try on outfits from different times and was now itching to find the perfect things to keep her warm in the snow. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Dan fall behind just a little, with a very thoughtful expression on his face.
The Doctor kept up a brisk pace as she led them on a convoluted route through the myriad corridors and walkways, between racks and rails and shelves and boxes of every kind of clothing imaginable. She also kept up a running commentary of various items they passed and the friends who had worn them.
Yaz felt an unwelcome pang of jealousy to hear the Doctor talk about past friends, although she hated herself for it. She knew the Doctor was so very old and had of course had lifetimes before Yaz had even been born. She felt a nudge from the side and realised Dan was beside her. He gave her a wink which puzzled her. What was that for?
She didn’t have time to think any further about it as she suddenly crashed into the back of the Doctor, who had screeched to a halt.
“Ouch!” she cried, rubbing her forehead which had borne the brunt of the collision with the back of the Doctor’s head. The Doctor, however, was oblivious, staring in barely concealed excitement at the next aisle of clothes. Yaz peered over her shoulder and blinked in astonishment. Never had she seen so much glitter and tinsel in one place. It looked like what would happen if Christmas exploded and spread its contents over a thousand unassuming jumpers.
“How many Christmas jumpers does one person need?” gasped Dan in amazement, poking at the nearest one and unleashing a migraine-inducing flashing light display accompanied by a warped, tinny rendition of We Wish You A Merry Christmas from speakers hidden within its woolly confines.
“I don’t think there’s a limit,” the Doctor replied slightly defensively, making Dan feel a little bad for his comment. But he had a very good idea which was sure to please her.
“I think we should have a Christmas jumper competition, where each of us has to choose a set of jumpers for us all to wear.” The words were barely out of his mouth before the Doctor was literally jumping up and down in excitement.
“That, Dan Lewis, is a BRILLIANT idea!” she said, clapping her hands and giving him two thumbs up.
“OK, ten minutes to find 3 jumpers, ready… steady… GO!” Dan announced and they were off. The Doctor instantly raced to the far end of the aisle, and Dan started to rifle through the nearest ones, so Yaz decided to aim for somewhere in the middle and see what she could find.
Ten minutes later, the three of them converged once more, each bearing bags containing their chosen jumper trios. They agreed that they would put on the jumpers they hadn’t seen with their eyes closed and have a grand reveal in front of the large mirror at one end of the aisle. Yaz offered to go first, so they all removed their respective coats and jackets, then the Doctor and Dan closed their eyes and held out their arms as Yaz handed over her choices. As she straightened her own jumper, she realised that the Doctor was halfway through pulling hers on – eyes closed – backwards.
“Let me help,” she said, pulling the jumper back off, the static causing the Doctor’s hair to frizz up. Yaz turned the jumped the correct way around and tried not to get distracted by the fact that she was currently extremely close to the Doctor’s face, her eyes screwed shut and an irrepressible smile on her lips. It felt weirdly intimate. She swallowed and pulled the jumped over the Doctor’s head the right way round, and the Doctor pushed her arms into the sleeves. Yaz then guided both the Doctor and Dan to stand in front of the mirror and at the count of three, they opened their eyes and gazed at the reflections.
Yaz had found three matching jumpers which had elf bodies knitted on the front, their own heads appearing to be the elf heads. Underneath, each one said “Santa’s little helper”. Yaz knew they weren’t especially inspiring choices, but creativity had abandoned her and she thought it was still quite amusing anyway. Dan was clearly entertained, and the Doctor was looking at the reflection like it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, such was the joy and delight on her face.
Well, Yaz thought, I hope I don’t win, because I can’t think of a better prize than seeing the Doctor so happy with my choice!
“Jeff would be so impressed with these!” she said with sincerity.
Yaz knew better than to ask, but apparently Dan didn’t and he took the bait. “Jeff?” he queried. But before the Doctor could launch into a lengthy and improbable explanation, Yaz intervened.
“I think it’s time for your choices now, Doctor!” which did the trick to distract the her adequately. They all pulled off the jumpers Yaz had chosen, then Yaz and Dan closed their eyes as the Doctor placed her choices into their hands.
Yaz tried to feel which way round her jumper should go, but all she could feel was a baffling mass of fluff and tinsel. She couldn’t work out where there were sleeves or a neck or anything.
“Doctor, I can’t work out which way this should go,” she called, and then felt warm hands on hers, and the jumper was taken from her.
“Arms up,” the Doctor announced, sounding closer than Yaz was expecting, flustering her slightly.
“I’m not a child,” she tried to quip, but it came out a lot more breathlessly than she had planned.
“I know, but this jumper is a bit awkward,” came the response, and she felt she had no alternative but to reach her arms up like a child being dressed for school. Her brain couldn’t even begin to make sense of the jumper that was pulled on – it seemed to take a lot of work as the Doctor had to pull various parts down each arm. She carefully pulled the neck over Yaz’s head. Yaz could feel the Doctor’s fingers brush her face as various things were rearranged, then she reached behind her to gently lift her hair out from being tucked down the back, and Yaz could feel the Doctor’s breath on her face.
This was the final straw for Yaz’s heart and brain which went into full meltdown at that point. Her face was on fire, her heart began to race (and given the Doctor’s freakishly superb hearing, she could no doubt hear this) and her brain began to scream the same incoherent thoughts it had graced her with the previous evening and earlier that morning.
And the Doctor was now fussing with things on the front of the jumper and Yaz wasn’t sure how much longer her legs would actually hold her up. Worse, the Doctor seemed to sense something was wrong and she paused, hands on Yaz’s waist, to ask her if she was OK. All she could do was let out a squeak, which satisfied the Doctor enough to spin her around to face the mirror.
Before she was able to count down to the reveal, however, the Doctor let out an exclamation of disappointment.
“Dan! You already opened your eyes! Spoilsport!” she grumbled. Wait, he had been watching them? Yaz couldn’t blush any more at this point.
“Sorry,” he offered. “I couldn’t get the jumper on and you were… occupied…” Yaz could hear something in his voice – was it amusement? She was absolutely going to kill him at the first available opportunity.
“Can I open my eyes now?!” she asked, feeling foolish being the only one with their eyes closed.
“THANK YOU for waiting and playing the game properly, Yaz,” the Doctor said pointedly. “Yes, you can open your eyes now!”
Nothing could really have prepared Yaz for the jumper that faced her in the mirror, festooned with so much tinsel and actual strings of fairy lights it was no wonder it had been such a struggle to put on. Both Dan and the Doctor’s jumpers were equally… busy… It was what you might expect a dog to vomit up after it had eaten an entire Christmas tree.
But the Doctor was absolutely beside herself with excitement over them, and she squeezed between them in front of the mirror and slung an arm around each of them, a look of undisguised delight on her face.
“Well, this is certainly the most, er, Christmassy jumper I have ever seen,” Dan offered diplomatically.
“Right? I got them from…” but by now Dan had got the idea and interrupted before the Doctor could say any more. “My turn now! Close your eyes, you two!” Yaz was suspicious – he sounded far too pleased with himself, and given that he’d already seen the Doctor helping Yaz with her jumper (and please goodness let him not have noticed how flustered it had made her – though she was pretty sure it had been unmissable, and he already had his own suspicions about the two of them anyway) she wasn’t entirely sure how much she could trust him.
However, his bag was considerably smaller than the Doctor’s had been, which at least suggested he’d chosen somewhat tamer jumpers. Also, as both the Doctor and Yaz would have their eyes closed, they wouldn’t be able to help each other put them on. Providing further proof that Dan knew exactly what he had already seen, he told them both carefully that he was putting the jumpers into their hands the right way round, ready to be put on.
Once they were ready, he positioned them both on front of the mirror and gave them the countdown to opening their eyes.
“Ready? 3… 2… 1… open!”
Yaz stared at the reflection of the three of them, though it was only her and the Doctor’s jumpers that occupied her attention. Even backwards in the mirror, Yaz could see that both she and the Doctor wore red jumpers with write writing knitted in, both saying the same thing:
“All I want for Christmas is you” – Yaz’s with an arrow pointing to the Doctor, the Doctor’s with an arrow pointing to Yaz.
Frankly Yaz didn’t even register Dan’s jumper which had a gooseberry wearing a Christmas hat, though she did notice his shoulders shaking as he couldn’t contain his laughter.
She had no words, just gaped at the reflection, her brain by this point having effectively given up and shut down completely, but the Doctor turned to Dan and said, “Do you know what? I don’t think you could have picked better jumpers. You are definitely the winner,” and then she wrapped her arms around Yaz in a hug.
Not the desperate hug she had given on finding herself in the tunnels under Liverpool back with Yaz, the hug that showed how afraid she was of losing Yaz again, as well as a hundred other desperate emotions. This hug was soft and warm and Yaz couldn’t help but relax into it. Instead of the Doctor clinging to her as tightly as she could imagine, the arms around her now held her with a gentle love, their bodies pressed together so that Yaz could feel the Doctor breathing, feel her hearts beating against her own. All she could do was surrender to it, to close her eyes, to hold onto the Doctor and feel her within her arms. She turned her face into the Doctor’s neck and felt at home. Like this is where she was meant to be forever.
Dan quietly headed away from the Christmas jumper section of the wardrobe hall, determined to give them some time to make up for yesterday’s accidental interruption, and found a comfy-looking sofa that would be perfect for a nap.