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The Doctor and Yaz raced along the deck, dodging coils of rope and ship infrastructure, barely risking a single glance behind them to see if they were still being followed. Yaz concentrated on just trying to keep up with the Doctor without her lungs exploding. Rarely a day seemed to pass without an apparently innocent trip ending up with them running for one reason or another – either away from or towards something in order to avoid or escape some kind of danger. It had made Yaz question the wisdom of her outfit choice for this particular day: the length of the skirt and the shoes, whilst pleasingly authentic, were never going to be the most practical for sprinting, but the Doctor’s reaction on seeing her emerge from the wardrobe wearing it had been more than worth it. Even now, as they were running for their lives, the memory of the Doctor’s cheeks flushing and the tiny, almost imperceptible gasp she had given made Yaz’s stomach do a little flip.
There were plenty of times in the past when she would have this pleasant sensation when looking at the Doctor or seeing her reaction to something, and for the longest time she had refused to dwell on what exactly it meant. She supposed that deep down inside she HAD always known, but her conscious mind had completely blanked that idea and she had merely told herself she just admired the Doctor and looked up to her. Which was true. But more recently she had realised that ignoring the truth was never going to make it go away. She had known what it was for a while, but even then, refused to allow herself to openly admit it – even to herself. Well, that was until Dan had pushed her to accept it. She’d come frighteningly close to admitting it herself to Claire Clairmont. Captain Jack had tried the same thing as Dan and had evidently seen the truth himself.
But it was Dan, with whom she had spent so long fighting relentlessly to get back to the present and reunite with the Doctor, who had been in the position to not let it go and finally push her to a place where she couldn’t hide any more. She knew him and trusted him, which was probably what had made the difference in finally getting her to explicitly admit the truth behind her feelings. It had felt a relief to actually have it out there, but the accompanying terror was quite overwhelming. She had no real experience of dealing with matters of the heart and did not know how to take the next step. Dan made it sound easy when he said to just tell the Doctor, but the thought of doing that, and the thought of the possible consequences, sent her thoughts flying into panic mode. And anyway – when would they find the time? Here they were, another day, another race for safety.
So Yaz had stuck with the long skirt and different shoes. Her usual footwear choice was boots – practical, comfortable, and she thought they suited her, as far as she cared about appearance. It wasn’t that these shoes were impractical, though she had some concern they would fall off given the speed they were running, but thankfully they were functioning well in the chase and she found she wasn’t missing the boots as much as she had feared she might.
There was no real time to dwell on the practicalities of different footwear choices right now, though. The only thing to focus on at that moment was running. Keeping her legs moving as they pounded across the deck. Until, without warning, the Doctor skidded to a halt, causing Yaz to crash solidly into her. Yaz felt sparks where her body made contact with the Doctor’s and her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected proximity. She almost didn’t notice the Doctor pointing frantically at something, and stepped back to give herself room to breathe again. She saw what the Doctor was pointing at: an area of barrels, boxes and containers next to a set of stairs leading to the upper deck. The Doctor grabbed Yaz by the arm and pulled her down behind one of the barrels.
They crouched in the small space, both trying to keep their panting breaths from the physical exertion as quiet as they could, listening for the sound of anything following them.
But then Yaz’s brain caught up with what was happening and realised several facts:
1) she and the Doctor were crammed into this very small space together;
2) their knees were slotted together in the limited room – one of the Doctor’s knees between Yaz’s thighs and vice versa;
3) the Doctor was still holding Yaz’s arm, and Yaz’s hands had come to rest with one on the Doctor’s arm, the other on her thigh.
They both noticed these things at the same time, turning to look at each other and realising on top of everything else that they were now almost nose to nose. Feeling the Doctor’s breath against her face, Yaz’s insides did a somersault and she nearly fell backwards, clutching at the Doctor without thinking to stop herself from falling out of their hiding place. The Doctor grabbed her other arm at the same time, pulling her back. This was how they ended up in each other’s arms, staring into each other’s eyes.
Their breaths were still rapid and heavy, but not from the exertion of running any more. Yaz thought her heart was going to leap out of her chest, so fast and hard was it pounding – she was certainly sure the Doctor and her excellent hearing could hear it. The world seemed fade away until there was only the Doctor in front of her, so close, breathing as hard as she was so she could feel the breaths against her lips. Her cheeks were pink – Yaz could feel a fire spreading through her own body, too – the expression in her eyes was unfathomable. It felt as if the Doctor could see into the depths of Yaz’s heart, like every secret she held inside her was laid bare for the Doctor to see whilst she still couldn’t determine the meaning behind the Doctor’s gaze. They were caught, frozen in that moment, until suddenly the Doctor pulled Yaz to her and crashed their lips together, and Yaz’s world exploded into fireworks – more vivid and powerful and beautiful than any she had ever seen. Her eyes closed as the sensation of being kissed by the Doctor overwhelmed her senses completely
Yaz hadn’t realised how badly she wanted this until it was happening right there and then, and it felt that her body and mind had been seeking this connection her whole life. It was what she needed to be complete, to be pressed up against the Doctor, tangled in each other’s arms, lips crushed together, each finding the place they belonged as part of the other.
The Doctor’s hands moved from holding her arms to running up her back and into her hair, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as her own arms wrapped around the Doctor, holding her as tightly as she could, feeling the unusual fabric of the coat she was wearing and grasping it as if her life depended on it, as if she would disappear if she ever let go.
There was a sudden soft tug as Yaz felt the Doctor grabb her hair and pull it gently, dislodging some from the bun it had been tied up in. It caused her to moan quietly into the Doctor’s mouth. The Doctor pulled back ever so slightly, parting their lips momentarily to look at the woman she was holding. Yaz opened her eyes in confusion, wondering why the incredible sensations had stopped and the sight that confronted her took her breath away all over again.
The Doctor’s hands moved once again, this time from being entangled in her hair to cup her face, holding her and looking at her as if she was a rare and fragile flower that might disappear unexpectedly at any moment. Thumbs stroked her cheeks, wiping the tears she hadn’t noticed falling and then, as if in slow motion, the Doctor’s face moved closer, her eyes dropping to look directly at Yaz’s lips which opened, unbidden, until…
“Sheffield! Sheffield, where are you?!”
The voice snapped both of them rudely back into reality and their heads popped up from behind the barrel like meerkats.
Yaz hadn’t forgiven Dan for his last interruption when he’d first joined them in the TARDIS. She was going to make him suffer for this one for a very long time.