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“Thank you, have a nice day!” The Doctor says, handing the paper bag over to the little girl on the other side of the till, her head just barely showing over the top. Her mum stands proudly just behind her, watching as her daughter balances the bag of shopping.
“Bye!” the little girl echoes back, grinning at The Doctor proudly before her face disappears behind the bag and her mum steers her out the door by her shoulders. The Doctor watches them go with a fond smile and then checks the time on her watch.
Half past five, time to close the shop. She side-steps carefully out from behind the till, the shelves behind her are packed full of snacks and sweets, Christmas cards too from her regular shoppers. She and Yaz haven’t had the shop long, it seems like just yesterday they were gallivanting around the universe on their travels. But it’s been a long time that The Doctor has had this alternate version of herself. She’s not entirely sure what happened when she regenerated, but she’s not complaining about the fact that a version of herself gets to live here, on Earth, with Yaz.
She loves this little shop. She never thought she’d be the domestic type like this, but having their little shop with the flat above, closing the shop on Yaz’s day off so they can spend the maximum amount of quality time together…she adores it. Sometimes she still gets that itch to travel but they still can, jumping in the TARDIS that somehow split into an alternate version too and travelling anywhere they want in the blink of an eye.
She ambles over to the front door, peering out into the dusky street as she flips the sign around on the door from “open” to “closed” and locks the door.
The slightly rickety wooden door behind the till provides access up to the little flat above the shop. She takes the stairs two at a time, almost crashing into her navy blue front door at the top as usual.
The key is a little stiff in the lock at first but it gives and she slips through the door, a chunky grey ball of fluff immediately winding himself around her ankles and tripping her up.
“K-9! Every time!” The Doctor chastises the cat at her feet, meowing at her impatiently. He’s significantly more needy than her old companion he’s named after.
“I know, I’m a cruel cat parent for not feeding you the second I get through the door,” The Doctor laughs, kicking her shoes off and then bending down to scoop up her beloved cat, snuggling him close and heading into the kitchen.
“Right, let’s feed you, then I’ll start on dinner. Do you think Yaz might like me to make her favourite pizza?” The Doctor asks as they get into the kitchen. She gets no more than an impatient meow so she puts K-9 onto the floor and then grabs his food bowl. He’s a chunky, mean-looking cat who had been in the shelter for a while. But The Doctor had taken a shine to him and discovered that he’s really as soft as anything and will do anything for scratches under the chin. She had brought him home that day and never looked back since.
Once K-9 has been fed he doesn't need her attention any more, so The Doctor turns her concentration to the pizza. Yaz won’t be home for a little while, she works later on a Saturday, but that’s okay, because The Doctor wants to make dinner from scratch so it gives her time to do it without rushing. Yaz’s favourite dinner is a homemade mediterranean vegetable pizza, and The Doctor likes to think she’s perfected the recipe over the time they’ve been together. She’s certainly come a long way from almost burning down the TARDIS every time she made a slice of toast.
The Doctor flicks the radio on while she gets to work making the dough. She loves having music on and she finds herself bopping along subconsciously to the beat as she kneads away. There’s flour all over the kitchen bench, and probably some on her nose, but she doesn’t really mind. She can always clean it up after.
She’s so engrossed in her pizza making that she doesn’t hear the footsteps on the creaky old stairs, nor the key in the lock or the door opening. The only giveaway that she’s no longer alone in the flat is the sound of footsteps on creaky floorboards.
“Hi,” The Doctor says softly, a warm smile gracing her features at the sight of her girlfriend walking towards her. K-9 winds himself around Yaz’s ankles, trying to trick her into feeding him too, but she temporarily ignores him.
“How was your day?” The Doctor asks as Yaz steps in behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and hooking her chin over The Doctor’s shoulder.
“Good. Bit busy, it always is on a Saturday but not so busy that I couldn’t hear myself think,” Yaz explains. After they had finished their travels, Yaz had decided to leave her job in the police force permanently, wanting to do something more impactful with her time. So she had applied to work as a Youth Worker, and she loves it. Unsurprisingly, Saturdays are their busiest days with the lack of school but the rest of the week is still busy as she works with teenagers all over the city for all sorts of reasons.
The Doctor grins, grabbing a handful of shredded cheese from the bag and sprinkling a generous amount over the surface of the pizza. She knows it’s probably a bit much but she’ll happily deal with the consequences later. Although Yaz might be less pleased…
“How about your day? I can tell it was obviously rather exciting given the state of your hair,” Yaz teases, reaching up to twirl a lock of The Doctor’s wavy blonde locks around her finger.
“Honestly Yaz I don’t know how I end up like this. It always feels so secure when you do it for me in the mornings and then by lunchtime it just goes poof!”
“It’s cause you never stop fidgetin’.”
“Fair point. Oh! But Arthur was back in for his paper and his croissant this morning.”
“Oh good, I was worried about him,” Yaz sighs in relief. It’s always a bit concerning when one of their regulars doesn’t show up for a while.
“Yeah, apparently he’d had a touch of the flu and didn’t want to pass it on to anyway, but he’s feeling better now.”
“Bless him,” Yaz smiles. She presses a soft kiss to the base of The Doctor’s neck and then pulls away from the embrace, heading for the bedroom.
“I’m just going to go and have a quick shower and put my PJs on,” she announces.
“I’ll be joining you in the PJ department as soon as this pizza goes in,” The Doctor calls in reply, carefully sliding the pizza over onto a baking tray, only losing a bit of the generous amount of topping in the process.
Once the pizza is in the oven and the kitchen is … relatively tidy, The Doctor heads through to the bedroom to put her pyjamas on, ready for a night in of relaxing and quality time with her girlfriend. She’s greeted by the aforementioned girlfriend on the way down the hallway, and she blatantly stares at the amount of skin on show with Yaz wrapped in just a towel and her long hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
“You’re watching me,” she says, blushing when The Doctor steps into her space and wraps her arms around her waist.
“Just ‘cause you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” The Doctor replies, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Yaz’s lips. She can feel her tensing against her at first, and then melting into it, her hands coming up to nestle in the hair at the base of The Doctor’s skull.
The Doctor breaks away from the kiss a little out of breath, her eyes wide and dark.
“Could we take this to bed?” she whispers, her fingertips skirting over Yaz’s bare shoulder and making her shiver.
“Not unless you want pizza. And I know I do,” Yaz grins.
“You mean my pizza is better than my alluring sexy times moves?” The Doctor asks, offended.
“Yes, especially because you just called them your ‘alluring sexy times moves’. There is literally no worse way to describe that.”
The Doctor huffs in offence, resting her chin on Yaz’s shoulder.
“Come on, let’s get changed, I want that pizza.”
The Doctor slouches after her with a huff, Yaz laughing loudly at her indignancy and rolling her eyes.
Once they both get changed, not without a bit of distraction, they head through to the kitchen to get the pizza out of the oven.
“That smells amazing,” Yaz comments as The Doctor opens the oven, jumping back away from the rush of heat.
“Might be one of my best ones yet,” The Doctor replies, watching while Yaz lays their little dining table with two placemats, two sets of cutlery and crockery and then makes a glass of blackcurrant and lemonade for them both. In that time, The Doctor has managed to slice and put the pizza on one of their nice wooden chopping boards, and she carries it over to the table.
“Happy weekend,” The Doctor grins, holding up her glass for Yaz to clink hers against in a toast to welcome the much-needed two days off.
“Happy weekend indeed.”
They both take a couple of slices of pizza to put on their plate, Yaz gently pushing K-9 away with her socked foot when he starts to circle underneath the table, wondering if they’ll drop any scraps that he can pick up.
“Ahh, hot!”
“Every time,” Yaz rolls her eyes, fanning her hand over her own pizza to avoid the same mishap.
“S’the cheese.”
“You’re the one who put all the cheese on it,” Yaz shrugs, smirking at The Doctor’s pouty face.
“You’re the one who likes extra cheese.”
Yaz has the good grace to look at least a little bit guilty, but The Doctor doesn’t really mean it. She burns her mouth on her food like clockwork so it really isn’t that unusual.
They finish the pizza in almost record time, they were both clearly hungry, and they work together to wash the dishes and give the living space of their little flat a general tidy up. They try and make sure it’s relatively clean and tidy before they go to bed, they’ve discovered that it always makes such a difference to their morning.
“Wild Saturday night of a movie and popcorn in bed?” Yaz suggests, her face splitting into a yawn at the end of the sentence.
“Are you sure you’ll even make it that far?”
“Rude! You’re on popcorn, I’m on laptop duty,” Yaz says, sticking her tongue out childishly at her partner and then disappearing into the bedroom.
Less than ten minutes later, they’re both snuggled up under the duvet, The Doctor a little more upright while Yaz is curled around her with her head tucked under The Doctor’s chin and the popcorn and movie balanced on their legs.
“Are you sure you’ll make it all the way through this?” The Doctor checks as she leans forward to hit play.
“Of course I will.”
“Your reputation says otherwise.”
“I’ll make it to the end,” Yaz insists.
“Yeah, sure.”
Less than ten minutes later, the sound of faint snoring can be heard, and The Doctor grins to herself triumphantly.
The next morning, it’s The Doctor who is the lazy one. She stretches out like a cat as the light filtering through the gap in the curtains finally wakes her up. The bed next to her is empty, although there’s a warm spot on her tummy and she looks down, giving herself multiple chins in the process, to see K-9 curled up, his head on his paws.
“Morning bud,” she grins, reaching out to scratch between his ears. He chirps in surprise but then starts purring in contentment, a small smile on his face.
There’s noise from the kitchen but The Doctor isn’t in too much of a hurry to get up. There’s a cat on her lap, and there’s no rush this morning; neither of them are working, and they don’t have any plans.
She luxuriates in bed for a little longer, just listening to K-9’s purring and Yaz clattering around in the kitchen. But eventually, the pleasant smells coming from the other half of the flat and her rumbling stomach drag her out of bed and towards the kitchen.
“Morning,” Yaz smiles as she comes in, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely. It had seemed that with the weird regeneration thing that happened, The Doctor had become a little more human in some aspects. She’s still got two hearts, and the ability to heal faster than average. However she does appear to need to eat and sleep more, and she’s still trying to get used to thinking about that.
“Morning,” the doctor replies with a wide yawn, her t-shirt riding up to expose her tummy before dropping back down again.
“What are you makin’?”
“Well I nipped downstairs and grabbed a pack of croissants from the shelves, and then I’m making your favourite little fried portuguese things,” Yaz explains.
“You are amazing,” The Doctor grins, bouncing on her toes excitedly.
“Want to get some toppings out and chop some fruit?”
The Doctor nods enthusiastically, bounding into the kitchen properly to help Yaz get their breakfast ready. Working together means that it doesn’t take very long for breakfast to be ready and they drag the coffee table closer to the sofa so they’ve got somewhere to rest the goods.
“I still can’t believe I let you convince me to get a purple sofa for this flat,” Yaz remarks as they sit down next to each other, pulling a blanket over their laps.
“Purple sofas are amazin’ Yaz.”
“But did it have to be this shade of purple though, specifically?”
“What’s wrong with this shade?”
“It’s practically neon.”
“Well it was the squashiest one there, and that is the most important quality of a good sofa.”
Yaz chuckles fondly, shaking her head and leaning into The Doctor with her plate of breakfast treats.
“Whatever you say,” she sighs.
“You know I’m right.”
Yaz hums and The Doctor laughs, resting her head against Yaz’s for a moment.
“Yaz?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for … taking me in, I guess. I don’t know what happened when … all that happened. But thanks for sticking around.”
Yaz stops, putting her plate down and wrapping her arms around the Doctor’s waist, giving her a squeeze.
“Of course I’m sticking around for you, Doctor. I love you, and I always will. I know this isn’t how you expected things to turn out, but I’m glad they did. I’m glad I get to live this life with you,” Yaz says softly, leaning up to kiss The Doctor.
“I’m glad I get to live it too,” she whispers back.