Chapter Text
It had been six months, and Yaz was fine. Really.
She'd stopped attending the "Former Companion Support" meetings, but only because she was so busy with her new job, helping Kate Stewart rebuild UNIT.
There, she and Dan teamed up together once more, quietly saving the world, and if there was a surprising amount of paperwork involved, she never complained about it. (Dan, however, complained liberally.)
She came out to her family. Her sister only rolled her eyes, and offered to introduce Yaz to her friend Millie. Her mother fretted for her, but only because "the world was unkind." Her father offered to make his terrible pakora for literally anyone she ever brought home to meet them.
She even went on dates, here and there. A science teacher, a cancer researcher, a single mum. All remarkable women, all changing the world in their own ways.
She was fine.
Then a train derailed outside Liverpool.
"Di said her friend had fun with you, the other night," Dan offered one evening, as they strolled out of a nondescript office that did its level best at broadcasting "totally not the local branch of a super-secret spy agency."
Yaz blinked at him.
"You know. Julie? The historian?"
"Oh," Yaz said. "Right. Yeah, sure. She were nice."
"Never gonna see her again, are you?" he asked, with a shake of his head.
Yaz sighed, and managed a shrug. "I'll call her to let her know I'm not interested," she insisted. "I don't actually ghost people. You know that."
"No, you never do," Dan murmured. He watched her pull a fob watch out of her pocket, a habit she'd developed sometime recently. It seemed she always had it fastened to a belt loop, always with her. "So, hey. Been meaning to ask about that," he said, nodding at the watch.
Yaz immediately jammed the watch into her pocket and gave him a cool look.
"Never see you use it to tell time," he continued.
"It's broken," she lied, immediately.
"I figured it were a memento of somebody special," he said. He sighed broadly into the cool evening air. "Yaz. Are you doin' all right?"
"I'm fine," she said, automatically.
(She said it a lot. She'd gotten good at sounding like she meant it.)
"Hey, it's me, yeah?" he insisted. "I'm your mate. We've wandered the planet and the universe together. You can talk to me."
"Nothing to talk about," she muttered. She noticed a police car zip by, then another. She heard the distant echo of sirens.
"I know you lost her," he said. "And I know you say you're 'fine' but you don't actually have to be fine about her. Definitely not so soon. And maybe never. I think that's okay."
She wasn't really listening, instead focused on the procession of emergency vehicles rushing away. She took a couple steps toward them.
Dan watched her, then pulled out his phone. "Oh. A train derailed," he reported, after scrolling through local feeds. "Shame. Traffic's gonna be a mess."
"We should check it out," Yaz declared.
He snorted. "Not exactly UNIT business," he said. "Train accidents aren't usually about planetary security," he countered.
For some reason, that made Yaz grin. "Definitely gonna check it out," she decided, before turning and bolting for her car.
Dan could do little but follow.
They arrived on site to a fair amount of chaos, as emergency responders picked apart the scene. A couple train cars were off the rails, one tilted sideways at a fairly precarious angle. Yaz ducked past the barriers and flashed her badge to get closer, looking for... something.
She walked past a half open window, and heard a muffled voice.
"Ah, hey, out there? Can you hear me?"
Yaz stopped, and peered into the window. The car interior was dark, and her view was mostly obscured by seats that had been upended.
"I can hear you," Yaz called back. "Are you all right?"
"Mostly," came the response. "I'm a doctor. Got some injured people in the car, here. Did a bit of remote triage. Nothing too serious, I think."
"Got it," Yaz replied, before barking an update to the emergency responders. She was about to bid the woman luck and move on to check on the rest of the train.
"So, uh. Kind of... pinned by this seat. Bit scared. Turns out I have a phobia about train accidents, which surprises me, but here we are. Wondering if you might stay?"
"Oh. Yeah, 'course," Yaz replied. Then she went silent, not entirely sure how to carry on a conversation with someone stuck under a seat on a sideways train.
"I'm Grace," the woman said. "What's your name?"
"Yasmin Khan," she said, automatically in her officious UNIT voice. "Yaz to my friends," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"Well, I'm calling you Yaz, 'cause I could really use a friend right now."
And then the tumblers clicked. Yaz realized she recognized the muffled voice, the slightly different affect, pushed an octave higher by stress. The breath fled her lungs in a rush. "Yeah, all right," she said, aiming for something casual.
A hand wiggled free from under the seat, and pressed against the window. Yaz immediately reached to meet it. "Nice to meet you, Grace," Yaz said, as her voice faltered.
"Thanks for staying," Grace said. "Know I'm awkward. This is awkward."
"Hey, sure. Happy to help," Yaz said. I'll never leave you again, she promised, silently.
Yaz hovered while paramedics checked Grace over, and ultimately released her with a wicked set of bruises, but no lasting damage.
Grace was quite disheveled, blonde hair curling in the misty evening air, and a blanket across her shoulders as she huddled on the rear bumper of an ambulance and watched responders dart around.
Yaz approached carefully, and sat next to her. "All right?" she asked.
Grace blinked owlishly and nodded. "Bit rattled. Was coming here for a job interview. Thought I was due for a change, but this all seems a bit of an ominous portent."
"Oh, I dunno. I've actually had good luck with train crashes," Yaz said, with a smile.
"That sounds like quite a story," Grace said.
"Yeah," Yaz agreed. She and Grace stared at each other for a long moment, before she pulled a card from her pocket and handed it over. "My mobile," Yaz said, as she offered it over to Grace. "Text me anytime."
Grace blinked, and accepted the card. "Oh," she said, dazed. "Not sure where my phone got to." She patted her clothes regretfully. "Ugh, I hate empty pockets," she grumbled.
"I can wait," Yaz promised. "But, just so you know - if you ask me out for ice cream, I'll say yes," she added with a bright, charming smile, then turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd before she could think better of it.
Grace watched her go, with a mildly stunned expression.
Dan caught up with Yaz when she ducked back under the emergency barriers. "Doctor Grace Smith," he reported, reading through the UNIT report on his phone. "Flagged in the Task Force database for spontaneous record creation, about six months ago."
Yaz grinned and shook her head.
"Pediatrician," he added. "And single. And definitely bears a striking resemblance to an alien we both knew."
Yaz's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket.
> Yaz! Found my phone! Also, there's an ice cream shop across the street from here
> If you happened to be interested
> Um
Yaz immediately turned off the path. "Gotta go, Scouse. Have a date."
Dan reached out and grabbed her gently by the shoulder. "Yaz. Is it really her, though?" he asked, quietly.
Yaz took hold of the watch in her pocket, and gave him a smile. "Dunno. Gonna find out," she said.
"Be careful," he said, with an understanding look.
"I'll be fine," she replied.
And for the first time in months, she meant it.