Chapter Text
Officer Yazmin Khan had once believed she’d never touch alcohol in her life. At first, it was religion, then those beliefs gradually softened and it became cultural, and now, Yaz found herself wondering what all the fuss of ‘having a drink after work’ was about.
Hitting her rebellious phase about ten years too late.
She felt a bit self-conscious as she pushed open the blue front door to the bar she’d selected at random. Well, random wasn’t the right word. A few things in particular drew her to the bar. It wasn’t located near home or work, so she wasn’t likely to run into anyone she knew, but it was only about fifteen minutes out of her way. There was a chipper next door in case she needed to soften the blow of the liquor before driving home - which as an officer she was quite certain she’d be under the legal limit if she played her cards right. That was assuming she could even get past the taste of her first sip. Worst case, if she felt anything other than sober in an hour, she’d take a taxi and claim car trouble when she got home.
Logistics aside, this bar drew her in because of its theming. The Police Box was a bar based on the vintage blue police boxes that used to be around decades ago. Inside the walls were covered with photos and memorabilia of police history over the years.
Yaz walked in, a bit dazed just taking in the space around her. She was so lost in herself, a wave of accomplishment and bravery coming over her for deciding to keep this little secret with herself that she hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t alone. Of Course she wasn’t alone, it was a bar. But it wasn’t until a voice spoke up from beside her that she became acutely aware of that fact. “You alright?” A blonde woman from behind the bar asked. Her voice was kind, but it had a certain amount of skepticism to it. And Yaz suddenly felt very self-conscious and very out of place.
“Yeah.. I just… it’s bigger in here than I expected. It looks small on the outside.” Yaz stammered, taking a few steps instinctively towards the bar, trying to judge what ‘normal’ behavior would be.
“Ah, yeah.” The blonde softened with a smile, any apprehension melted off of her. “Get that a lot. ‘Suppose it’s the blue door, very slimming.” She joked.
Yaz smiled, feeling more at ease by the blonde’s warmth. “Yeah… Could be.” She replied, a little awkwardly, still uncertain what to do next.
“Have a seat officer.” The blonde motioned in front of her. Yaz did as she told, feeling like she suddenly forgot how to sit down. Yaz felt ignorant for her surprise, but the warm female bartender contradicted every thought Yaz had about the type of person she was about to interact with in the bar. On one hand, it was disarming. She felt safer, more comfortable venturing into this unknown territory. But, at the same time, she felt more self-conscious. If it was a gruff older man, as she had half expected, she could’ve just brushed off any judgment she felt towards her nativity. But now, she felt very aware of how odd it seemed. A former? but maybe not yet former? Sikh female police officer walks into a bar… It already sounded like the setup to a bad joke.
“Y’okay?” The blonde's warm voice suddenly cut through her thoughts and she wondered how long she’d sat there just thinking.
“Good. Great. Thanks, yeah. Sorry…” Yaz stammered.
The bartender’s brows furrowed. “You sure you’re okay? Y’know if you’ve been drinking on the job I have to report you.”
Yaz started to laugh. “Oh god, no! I’m not drunk. Never have been in my life. Just got off my shift anyway… Sorry.. just a bit… nervous. I… I’ve never had alcohol before.”
“Ever?” The bartender looked only slightly more shocked than Yaz had expected, but she supposed in her line of work, it wasn’t a common thing to hear.
“Yeah… I was raised Sikh… but now… I don’t know. Sort of questioning things a bit. Trying to figure some stuff out, try new things…” Yaz explained awkwardly.
The blonde nodded thoughtfully. “I think it’s good to try new things. And just so you know, I'm no expert on religons, but if you change your mind and want to go back, don't let anyone make you feel like you're locked out just cause you wanted to do some soul-searching. A lot of people never really figure out who they are.”
“Yeah… thanks.” Yaz was warring with herself internally. On one hand, that was exactly what she needed to hear. On the other hand, it made her feel a bit unnerved to have a stranger offering her such profound life advice.
“But, answers are rarely found at the bottom of a bottle. So, there’s no shame if you just want a fizzy drink and some nuts tonight.” She offered kindly.
Yaz was suddenly doubting herself. It would be easier if she didn’t drink since she wouldn’t have to worry about getting home or anything. But she had come here to challenge herself in a way. But she was in a bar which was still more than she’d ever done before.
“Yeah…” She finally deflated. “Guess you’ve probably got a point…”
“What’ll it be then?” The bartender offered warmly. “I’ve got all the standards… and a non-alcoholic beer if you want to taste something truly awful…”
Yaz laughed again. “Bartenders choice.” She smiled.
“Ooh bold of you to trust my judgment.” The woman smiled. “I’m gonna make you something special. Non-alcoholic, but fun, I promise. It’ll be worth your trip in here.”
“Now you’re the one making bold statements.” Yaz teased, feeling more and more at ease by the moment.
“Oi! Careful, I’ve still got that nonalcoholic beer back here!” She teased while pouring a few types of juice and some blue-colored syrup into a shaker. She gave the metal cylinder a few shakes before pouring it out into two martini glasses.
“Here you go.” She offered Yaz the glass. “Best part of your order is I can join you.”
“You don’t drink?” Yaz asked skeptically.
“Nah, I do. Just don’t like to drink on the job. Slippery slope.” She explained, gingerly lifting the glass by the stem. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” Yaz echoed and they clinked glasses together before having a sip.
“So… What do you think?” The blonde asked eagerly.
“Wow!” Yaz looked at the drink in shock. “That’s amazing!”
“See, I told you I wasn’t making a bold statement.” The bartender looked very pleased with herself.
“Sorry… what’s your name? Can’t have my first drinking buddy and not know their name.” Yaz asked smiling.
“The Doctor.” The woman behind the bar answered confidently.
“The…what? Doctor?” Yaz questioned, her face scrunching up in confusion.
“Yeah. The Doctor. Bit of a nickname, long story, anyway, I got to using it in here cause it’s easier. ‘Specially with some of the guys that come out later… don’t exactly want them knowing my real name. I’m sure you get that…” She squinted reading the name tag on Yaz’s uniform. “Officer Khan. Sometimes titles are easier. ‘Specially if you’re a woman doing a man’s job.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Yaz joked.
“Look at you! A natural! Glad I didn’t give you the strong stuff.” The Doctor teased.
“My friends call me Yaz.” She amended.
“Okay, Yaz, nice to meet you! Or is it bold of me to assume we’re friends?” The Doctor smiled.
“I’d say we’re friends.” Yaz smiled back.
“So, Yaz, what exactly causes a maybe not a Sikh police officer to walk into a bar on a Tuesday at five pm?” The Doctor asked inquisitively.
“You know, I’ve heard the whole ‘bar tenders get people to share all their troubles’ thing, but I have to say, it probably works better when it’s not juice they’re serving.” Yaz quipped with a smile.
“There’s still that alcohol-free beer!” The Doctor countered.
“Alright. You are good at what you do.” Yaz took another sip of her drink. “You’ve probably heard this a hundred times before, but I just kind of got to a point in my life where I thought I’d be thrilled… Good job, nice flat, decent car, boyfriend, loving family, comfortable life.” Yaz tried to ignore the flicker of something she noticed in the Doctor’s eyes when she said boyfriend.
“But?” The Doctor prompted.
“But… I just feel kind of… bored, I guess. And then I feel selfish because I know how fortunate I am. But it’s kind of depressing too… I’ve got everything I once wanted…”
“And you’re not happy so then you feel like nothing could ever make you happy.” The Doctor finished and Yaz looked up from her drink in shock. “You were right, I’ve heard that a lot before.”
“No.” Yaz shook her head. “That’s not it. It’s personal. You’ve felt that way… or do feel that way…” Now it was the Doctor’s turn to look shocked. “Both our jobs get easier if we’re good at reading people.” Yaz smirked.
“I’m sure we even have some of the same clients.” The Doctor smirked.
Yaz laughed. “Yeah, pretty sure we do.”
She drained the last sip of her drink. “Thank you again, that was delicious.”
“Course. Can I get you another?” The Doctor offered.
“Nah, I should probably go home, my boyfriend is waiting.” Yaz explaimed and if she didn’t know better, the Doctor almost looked disappointed.
“Right… yeah….” She murmured as she cleared Yaz’s glass off the bar.
“What do I owe you?” Yaz asked, reaching for her wallet.
“Nothing. It’s on the house.” The Doctor smiled warmly, while Yaz just stared back in shock. “Consider it a gift. To a new friend.”
“Well, I’ll be back. And next time I’m paying.” Yaz smiled before standing up and leaving, not without looking over her shoulder and smiling before the door closed behind her.