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Yaz didn’t think she had ever been in a café this late in the night. Definitely not in these circumstances. And definitely, definitely not with an alien.
She held a mug of tea, which looked strong enough to take the enamel off her teeth (she didn’t think she’d ever sleep again after this much caffeine), in her hands trying to will the warmth to travel down her arms and into her core. Though to be honest, the coldness she felt was not just the result of spending the cold, wet evening high up on a crane, but also the after effect of seeing someone die.
Ryan was sitting next to her, staring blankly into his mug of tea, and Graham was across from him gazing out of the window adjacent to their table. Opposite her, though, was the aforementioned alien. At least, she claimed to be an alien and Yaz couldn’t think of any other even remotely plausible way of explaining the events of that night. She tried not to look directly at her, instead keeping her in the edge of her vision as she looked at her tea, out of the window, towards the café counter… But her attention was continually drawn back to the enigmatic woman and she wasn’t entirely sure why.
She tried to occupy her mind by considering how a mundane shift of seemingly endless parking disputes across the city had ended up taking such a dramatic turn. She’d reconnected with Ryan, someone she hadn’t seen for a good 8 or 9 years since they went to different high schools, and then had been thrown head first into events that were simply beyond anything she could ever have imagined.
At first, she had been fired up, thinking this was finally her chance to prove herself to her superiors at work: she could handle the unexpected, the potentially dangerous, keeping both a cool head and a position of authority when required. Except it hadn’t quite worked out like that, she realised. At some point, this unpredictable force of nature had swept her up and before she knew it, she was following her into the unknown without question.
When had that happened? When she thought back over the night, Yaz realised the exact moment: “I’m calling you Yaz, cos we’re friends now!” had been the precise point when she had started following instead of trying to lead. HOW it had happened was another question entirely. Remembering those words being spoken to her - by the person now sitting opposite, looking her directly in the eyes with a wild and slightly dangerous smile on her face - gave her an odd thrill, making her stomach twist in an unfamiliar way that felt exciting. She didn’t understand her reaction, except that it made her feel good and valued and somehow ALIVE.
That last point was a rather startling realisation. She had not, until this moment, realised how low her feelings had dropped over recent times. For sure not as low as that terrible point a couple of years ago, but despite trying to be more aware of her emotions, time had taken its toll. The frustrations with work, and the fact that even starting work had not led to making friends, meant she was lonely. And unchallenged. Was this all life was?
But this night had been something else altogether. Talk about different! And this raggedy woman smiling at her and saying they were friends… the memory of the smile made her skin tingle and she found herself, apparently without control, being drawn to look into the hazel eyes opposite. With a small shock, she found the Doctor looking back, mug held in both hands, elbows on the table. She grinned at Yaz, who felt her face grow warm and she smiled back – an involuntary reaction she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to.
“I knew a cuppa would do the trick, Yaz,” she commented, taking a sip but keeping her eyes on Yaz. She wasn’t sure why, but hearing her say her name sent what felt like a tiny electric shock along her spine and her cheeks warmed even more. She didn’t understand why she was reacting like this, and tried to hide her blushes by breaking that intense eye contact and looking down at the table.
PC Khan, stop this right now, she told herself sternly. But it really didn’t work, and regardless of her blushes, she was irresistibly compelled to look back at the Doctor, who returned her gaze with a somewhat quizzical expression. She had certainly noticed something about Yaz’s reaction and the realisation made Yaz’s heart beat a little faster. It must just be the emotions of the evening, she reasoned with herself and took a deep breath.
“Tea makes everything better,” she replied, but instantly regretted it. Tea wouldn’t bring Grace back. She looked hurriedly down at the table again, shame now rising within her as she had been so focused on these strange, warm, pleasant feelings that she had forgotten the terrible event which had occurred. She dragged her thoughts away from thinking about the stranger – no, her new friend – and instead turned to Ryan and touched his arm.
“Are you OK, Ryan?” and again she regretted what she’d said. Of course he wasn’t OK! What was wrong with her right now? She had received some training in how to handle people who had experienced trauma, and every single word of the lecture had completely fallen out of her head. She gave herself a mental shake, though, and figured that she didn’t need training to show empathy, she just needed to be human. And she could manage that.
Ryan turned to look at her, a smile on his lips but sadness in his eyes, and replied. “No, Yaz, not really.” And she knew there was nothing she could say that would help in that moment – training or no training. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and was saved from needing to respond by Graham, who reached over and put his hand on Ryan’s other arm. Any other time, Ryan probably would have brushed this off, but right now in this moment, they looked at each other with silent understanding of their shared loss.
Yaz allowed her eyes to drift back to the Doctor sitting opposite her, and just for a moment, thought she could see a pensive melancholy in the alien’s eyes – as if she had faced insurmountable tragedy that could barely be comprehended by mere human minds. But a blink of her eyes hid it away deep inside, out of sight, and instead Yaz was treated to another smile, and found herself yet again helpless to prevent herself from smiling back. It was as if somehow the Doctor’s presence completely stripped away any barriers Yaz was normally able to put up to protect herself. She felt as if the Doctor was gazing into her very soul, and instead of being frightened by this intrusion, she found it thrilling. She couldn’t have stopped the smile on her face if she’d tried.
Aware of how ridiculous she must be appearing right then, she mustered her brain into gear. “Why did you say that… we were friends… when you’d only just met me?” She couldn’t comprehend how this could happen, when even the people at work who knew her wouldn’t take this step.
The Doctor put down her mug of tea, carefully turning the handle to the front as if it was extremely important how it was lined up. Then she looked up at Yaz, eyes sparkling, the corners of her mouth turned up.
“Yaz, I may not know exactly what sort of person I am right now, but I do know one thing, and that is that I am an excellent judge of character. You were scared by what happened on the train, but you didn’t let it stop you. You were determined to do whatever you thought needed to be done…”
“But I didn’t have a clue what needed to be done,” Yaz interrupted, struggling to accept that she was worthy of any praise.
“I know, but you weren’t going to let that stand in your way. You were brave and determined and I could see exactly that you were the sort of person I’d consider my friend.”
Yaz had no response to that. This Doctor person was someone she had never met before in her life, and yet who seemed to think she had some kind of insight into the person she was deep down inside. Not too deep down, Yaz hoped. She didn’t want the Doctor to see the darkness she had buried far within, the hopelessness that had nearly overcome her. She didn’t want the Doctor to know that she wasn’t really brave at all. She realised that she wanted to prove that she COULD be the person the Doctor apparently believed her to be.
“Yasmin,” the Doctor was trying to get her attention back. “Yaz,” Yaz blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Maybe it was just tiredness that meant she kept getting lost in her head. The Doctor leaned forwards over the table, reaching out and taking Yaz’s hands in her own, an action which sent Yaz into a spiral of panic – what was happening? And why did the touch feel like fireworks? She couldn’t stop the little gasp when the Doctor touched her, but she also couldn’t stop herself lifting her eyes to look back into the Doctor’s – and now she was quite sure the Doctor could see everything inside her head and heart and she was absolutely powerless to do anything about it.
Then suddenly there was a clunk on the table, and with the spell broken, Yaz looked at the tray of four plates which had been unceremoniously dumped on the table by the indifferent server. Each plate held a rather sad and limp fried egg sandwich. Yaz, Ryan and Graham looked quizzically at the Doctor, who had ordered for them all, but their questions remained unanswered as the blonde alien enthusiastically tucked into hers with gusto. They couldn’t help it: it was Graham who started to chuckle first, quickly followed by Ryan and Yaz, until they found themselves literally incapacitated by side-splitting laughter, tears rolling down their faces, Ryan clutching his stomach, Graham leaning his head back, Yaz wiping the tears away only to have them replaced by more.
The Doctor watched them in amused puzzlement. Humans never failed to amaze her, she realised. Memories were sparking into life in her mind every moment, but despite all their eccentricities, she couldn’t imagine anywhere she would rather be in her brand new body. Maybe this time she could move past the horror and devastation in her past. A fresh start. Hope. Yes, this time it would be different. She watched the three humans laugh so hard, despite the fresh heartbreak she knew they now held within, and felt, just for a moment, at home.