Chapter Text
Donna awoke before the rest of the household, stumbling towards the coffeemaker. She rolled her neck from side to side, still sore from unpacking. Many of their belongings had been salvaged from their old house but it still weighed heavy on her heart to see her home reduced to ruin.
Unsurprised to see the Doctor already awake, she mumbled her normal morning pleasantries. He gave no indication he heard. He stood as a lone monument in their new kitchen, staring out the back door towards the TARDIS parked in the rear garden. His hands were buried in his pockets and his mind a million lightyears away. Only when Donna placed her hand on his arm did he emerge from his reflection. Blinking, he looked surprised to have someone appear at his side.
“What’s wrong?” asked Donna. The Doctor struggled against his automatic response. Thousands of years of practice told him to say ‘nothing’ and move on. But he trusted Donna with his life. Why was it so hard to trust her with his past? He fumbled over the words, speaking to the lightbulb on top the TARDIS instead of his friend.
“I wonder if she’s still waiting for me,” said the Doctor.
“Who?” asked Donna. But it was too much to ask. He was still learning how to open up and she could see he wasn’t ready to divulge this secret yet. “Well, I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”
~*~*~*~
Rose let herself into the TARDIS to find the Doctor kneeling on the floor, pulling up flooring panels. The Doctor mumbled some sort of greeting but it was hard to tell with the sonic clenched between his teeth.
“So this is why you’ve been Earth bound the past week,” said Rose, leaning on a nearby railing, letting her school bag bursting with homework drop to the floor. More incoherent mumbling as the Doctor pulled up a tangle of wires, giving them a loving zap with the sonic.
“Mum’s worried about you,” said Rose. The Doctor didn’t stop tinkering as the news settle on his hunched shoulders.
“Would you pass me that zig-a-maroo?” asked the Doctor, pointing to the neon green, star shaped gadget resting on the consult. Rose weaved her way around the mess of wires, avoiding potential pit falls before tossing the item to the Doctor. He caught it effortlessly, gave it a zap of the sonic, and started affixing the wires to each point.
“You’re thinking about her aren’t you?” asked Rose. Still the Doctor did not respond, his hands weaving expertly through the tangled mess. Rose sighed and wandered back towards her bag. From the corner of his eye, the Doctor watched Rose pull out a sketchbook.
“While I had the meta crisis in my head, I would have images that seemed out of this world so I put them into my art. Some I made into toys, but some couldn’t be captured in plastic eyes and stuffing,” Rose sat next to the Doctor, crossing her legs. The Doctor put down the wires, brushing his hands on his trouser legs as he sat back ready to listen.
“I taught myself how to draw a few years ago because I kept seeing the same faces over and over again in my daydreams,” said Rose and she opened the sketchbook. He started to ask permission, but Rose was already passing her sketchbook to him.
Rose was no Michelangelo, but the resemblance was distinct. Faces from his whole life played out in front of him. His companions, his friends, all of them drawn with vibrant care. A determined Amy would be next to a livley Teegan or Romana radiating across from a cheeky Clara.
By the midway point, he detected a pattern. One face started showing more than the others. Soon, whole pages were dedicated to a single woman. And while all the other faces were drawn in a state of mirth, this woman took on a range of emotions. The Doctor gave Rose some credit, that over time her skills improved, but he felt in his hearts it was more than that. Rose could sense how his love had grown over time for this singular woman. How she filled his thoughts and very essence of his being.
Rose watched as the Doctor lingered longer on the pages the further into the sketchbook he perused.
“What’s her name?” asked Rose.
“Her name is Yaz. Yasmin Khan.” She could hear the hitch in his voice as if it was the first time those lips had said her name out loud. He turned the page and saw that Rose had moved beyond portraits to figure drawings. Although the proportions were off, and occasionally scribbled out, the movement, the tenacity, the determination was all captured with precision.
“She was not just my favorite person to draw; she was a part of me somehow. Now that the meta crisis is gone, I know those feelings weren’t mine,” said Rose, watching as his ancient face age before her eyes. “They were yours.”
The final drawing, dated the same evening he first met Rose, showed Yaz broken-hearted. It was a memory that seared into his mind, that played into his guilt and heartache. The last look, that one last glance at the TARDIS. The last face that face saw before this old face came back. The Doctor passed the sketchbook back to Rose.
“You’re right,” said the Doctor, folding his hands together. “I have been thinking about her.”
He looked at the dome above his head. How bright and open this TARDIS desktop was compared to it pre-Flux. Could he also be as open? He took a deep breath, willing to try.
“I love her, Rose,” said the Doctor. “I told her once, that if I fixed myself to her, one day it would hurt. And I was right.” The Doctor felt his throat constrict, trying to keep the pain of his words from coming out because once spoken, they were true. “I still love her but I’m scared she won’t love this version of me.”
“Now that you’re a man?” asked Rose. The hurt in his eyes was all the conformation she needed. She opened her arms and he fell into them. He clung to this incredible young woman, knowing that she knew better than anyone how this fear weighed on his soul.
As a woman, The Doctor finally felt how deep gender roles affected how she moved in society. Constantly being thought of as the companion, being demoted in rank, always having to fight to be seen. Now that this body was male presenting again, he still found himself trapped by 21st century expectations. Change always followed the Doctor, no matter what form they found themselves in. But one thing he wished for above all else was that Yaz’s love would remain the same. Would she prove to be the woman he knew her capable of being or would she find herself trapped by the labels of sexuality of her century?
“If Yaz loves you, for who you are, then your gender won’t matter. You choose your friends well. I don’t think you have anything to fear,” said Rose and she felt the Doctor’s grip tighten around her, his face pressing harder against her shoulder. “But if you are still unsure, if you are still not ready, you know that I’m here for you. And Mum, and Dad, and Granddad. We’re all here for you and we still love you, no matter what.”
The Doctor held on for a second longer before he was ready to face his fears. A hug is just a way to hide your face and he was done hiding them from Rose. He pulled away to marvel at the young woman before him.
“How did I get so lucky to have a niece like you?” asked the Doctor.
“Ask Mum,” said Rose. She slung her book bag over her shoulder before heading back out. “Also, Dad says you’re not allowed to help me with homework anymore.”
“But your textbook was wrong!” said the Doctor, hands splayed in exasperation.
“I know it. You know it. But until we get to the 24th century, no one else knows it. Especially not the people grading my A levels.”
~*~*~*~
“How’s work? Kettle just boiled if you want tea,” Sylvia asked as Donna collapsed into the kitchen chair. Rose accepted the quick kiss from her mother as she struggled through her homework. Sylvia found a mug on her third attempt, having decided to rearrange the kitchen cabinets.
“I keep thinking I’m one spilled coffee away from an international crisis at all times. It’s exhausting,” said Donna accepting the cuppa from her mother.
“You should ask your new lodger to zap your computer with his zappy wand thing. Least he can do if he’s not going to pay rent,” said Sylvia, mimicking the Doctor.
“It’s called a sonic screwdriver,” mumbled Rose. Sylvia gave a dismissive waive and continued stacking dinner plates.
“How could I ask him for rent when we don’t even have a mortgage on this place? And if Kate had her way, she would make every day ‘bring your lodger to work’ day and I would be out of a job. Again,” said Donna. This startled Sylvia back into silence, redoubling her efforts, pulling plates off the shelves to study the cabinet, only to put them back where she had them originally.
“Have either of you spoken to him today?” asked Donna, sipping from her mug. Rose picked up on the ‘trying to be casual but not to look obvious’ blatantly obvious sort of way her mother asked.
“No, haven’t seen him all day. And the TARDIS hasn’t moved either,” said Sylvia, now pulling out a stack of bowls. Donna waited for her daughter to respond. When she didn’t, Donna tried again.
“He hasn’t mentioned anything? Why he hasn’t been himself lately?” Donna took another sip of tea. Rose refused to look up from her quadratic formula.
“It’s not for me to share,” said Rose.
“No secrets in this family, remember?” said Donna.
“If the Doctor is family, you should let him know he needs to adhere to the ‘no secrets’ rule. But I will not be the one who tells them unless he gives me permission too,” said Rose.
“Thank you, Rose,” said the Doctor, sending all three women jumping out of their skin.
“How long have you been inside?” snipped Sylvia, waiving a whisk in his direction. He ignored her, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. Donna saw the look that passed between her daughter and her friend. Only after Rose gave him a subtle nod did the Doctor speak.
“I’m not ok,” said the Doctor. Rose saw him staring at her homework, which she quickly flipped over so he would stop doing the calculations in his head. His eyes darted back to Donna now that the distraction was gone. “I’m worried about my friend I left in Sheffield before I regenerated. I want to know if she’s ok but also worried she might be better off without me.”
“You dunce,” said Donna, more of a whisper than a scolding. The chair screeched across the floor as she stood and hugged her dearest friend. He withered under her embrace and Rose could see him fighting the tears he wanted to shed, still too stubborn to let his deeper feelings show. Donna led the Doctor to the kitchen table, settling him in a chair between herself and Rose.
“How long was it between leaving her in Sheffield and finding us?” asked Donna, taking one of the Doctor’s hands in hers.
“For me? An hour. Maybe two. For her? A few days, at most. But I’ve been on earth now just over a week and I’ve still not reached out.”
“She can wait until you are ready,” said Rose, taking his other hand.
“I want to know if she waited,” said the Doctor. “I want to know if she’ll still loves me.”
The Doctor felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smile as both Noble women simultaneously squeezed his hand.
“Well, it can wait till after dinner and Rose still has homework,” said Sylvia, shattering the tender mood.
~*~*~*~
Family dinner proceeded as normal once Shaun returned from work. Even with Donna’s huge bump in pay, Shaun liked the fulfillment he got driving his cab and refused to give it up.
Rose and Donna both experienced small internal whoops of victory as the Doctor started sharing stories of his adventures with Ryan, Graham, Jack, Dan, and most of all, Yaz. Donna realized that making plans in advance was not the Doctor’s strong suit when he then mentioned car.
“I can’t take the TARDIS,” the Doctor explained.
“And why not?” asked Donna.
“Because … I don’t… I’m learning to take the slow path.”
“You never take the slow path. And you complain about my driving. Which is rich, coming from you,” said Donna. “You drive the TARDIS like a blindfolded money riding a unicycle.”
“I didn’t say anything about you coming with me,” said the Doctor.
“To hell with you, thinking of leaving us behind,” said Rose.
“Language!” snapped several of the adults.
“So what’s this really about? Afraid she’ll nick your ride?” teased Donna. When the Doctor didn’t respond right away Donna’s face alight. “You’re saying she can actually fly the TARDIS?”
“Smart and beautiful. Dangerous combination,” said Rose with a rueful smile.
“No. Well, yes she can fly it but no that’s not the reason,” said the Doctor. Rose’s face pulled with suspicion as she watched her mother peppered the Doctor with more of her banter.
“You’re testing her,” asked Rose, cutting off her mother. The Doctor had the decency to look ashamed. “You want to see if she still likes you without the toys and gizmos.”
“Rose,” Donna scolded but Rose’s words still struck home. The Doctor leaned back in his chair, slowly put his hands in his pockets. He rubbed his lips together before speaking.
“I’m still trying to figure out who I am without them. How can I be worthy of her when I don’t even know who I am?”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Donna, giving his arm a playful smack. “I’m more worried if she’s worthy of you.”
“I was barely the woman she needed me to be,” the Doctor admitted. “I let her down. So many times. She loved me and I broke her heart. This will just be the latest in a long line of mistakes I’ve made. Is it even worth going to see her and dredging up old history?”
Shaun, silent for the entire conversation, put down his fork.
“Falling in love is never a mistake,” said Shaun. “Hiding your feelings and letting the person you love slip away, that is a mistake.”
Donna reached out a hand to her husband, who took it gracefully, kissing her knuckles like the queen she was. Rose nodded, agreeing with her Dad, and she was please to see the subtle shift in the Doctor’s demeanor as well. She knew that the Doctor had made up his mind to fight for Yaz.
~*~*~*~
“This was a bad idea,” said the Doctor. He pressed his forehead against the car window as the world raced by as Donna drove. The first few signs for Sheffield announcing the remaining milage zipped by.
“Don’t,” said Donna. Her face pursed as she tried to keep her frustration in check. She would not have him start up again after just getting him to shut up after two and a half hours of non-stop techno babble.
“It’s going to be ok,” Rose encouraged from the back seat. The Doctor started banging his head against the window.
“You’re going to lose brain cells if you do that,” said Rose.
“I’m going to lose my shit if you keep doing that,” said Donna. The Doctor threw his head back against the headrest with a groan.
“We should just head back,” said the Doctor.
“That is not happening,” said Donna. The tendences on the back of her hands popped as she gripped the wheel. “We are not turning round now. Not after the traffic we just sat through on the M1.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” said Rose. The Doctor turned around in his seat to look at his niece. “Think of all the monsters and villains you’ve faces. The danger you’ve overcome. Is this really worse than all of that?”
“She thought I was brave,” said the Doctor, more to himself than anyone in the car.
“You are brave,” said Rose but the Doctor shook his head.
“I did what was right. She was the brave one,” said the Doctor. He turned back around, watching the trees whiz by, a sight not often seen when the TARDIS can dematerialize. “I don’t think I truly appreciated how hard it was for her to come out and accept who she was. Being true to yourself, despite adversity, is the greatest act of bravery any person can accomplish.”
Rose gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He placed his hand on hers, returning the favor.
“Then you are truly the bravest person I know,” said Rose.
Not for the first time Donna wondered how she ended up with such an amazing daughter.
Shaun. It was probably all Shaun’s doing.
~*~*~*~
Parking in Sheffield was a nightmare. A fact that was never a problem when it came to TARDIS travel and proved to be the final straw for Donna’s frayed nerves. They ended up parking seven blocks away from the apartment complex the Doctor pointed out.
“If I go get coffee, will you promise not to get into trouble?” asked Donna. The Doctor scrunched his nose.
“You know that’s not a promise I can keep,” said the Doctor. Donna put up a single figure to quiet him.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” said Donna.
“Yes, Mum,” said Rose, rolling her eyes.
“Text me when you find her,” said Donna. She gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek before peeling off towards a local café.
~*~*~*~
Rose kept pace with the Doctor’s longer strides as they passed rows of flats. He hadn’t said a word since they split with her mum. They stopped at flat 34. The Doctor just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at the door.
“You’re going to have to knock if you want her to open the door,” said Rose.
“But what if I’m not the Doctor she wants?” argued the Doctor.
“What if you’re exactly the Doctor she wants?” countered Rose.
“I really should have brought the TARDIS,” said the Doctor, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Don’t let Mum hear you say that,” said Rose.
The door opened and the two of them startled into silence. Najia Khan pressed her lips as she scanned the pair of them. Her stiff posture showed a new level of suspicion she lacked the last time the Doctor saw her.
“Najia,” said the Doctor. “But, how? We didn’t knock.”
“I could hear you through the door,” she said. “What do you want?”
“Is Yaz home?” asked the Doctor, glancing over Najia’s head into the flat.
“She’s out,” said Najia curtly.
“Oh…right,” said the Doctor. Rose suspected that the Doctor hadn’t even considered Yaz might not be home to witness his grand gesture.
“Do you know where she went? Or when she’ll be back?” asked Rose.
“Yes,” said Najia but her hard expression showed no indication that she would voluntarily elaborate.
“Is she at Graham’s?” asked the Doctor but Najia’s expression darkened.
“Why would I tell a pair of strangers where my daughter is?”
“You’re right,” said Rose, taking the Doctor’s arm, steering him back down the hall. “We’ll text her. Thank you, Mrs. Khan.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Najia. The two of them froze as Najia crossed her arms.
“I heard you mention the Doctor. Ever since that,” Najia paused, as if debating whether the use of stronger language was appropriate and decided against it, “that woman came into my daughter’s life, she’s changed. She lost her job. She won’t talk to use anymore. She went out last Saturday, came back a stone lighter and thought I wouldn’t notice. I don’t know if it’s drugs or some other…”
Again, Najia struggled for the right words. “Weird science thing going on but if you’re friends with the Doctor, you are no friend of Yasmin’s. So, stay away from her.”
The bang of the slamming door echoed down the hall, but Rose felt the vibrations long after they had wandered back towards the river front courtyard. The Doctor parked himself on the ledge of a flowerbed, his elbows to his knees, folded hands against his lips. Rose rubbed her hands against her arms.
“Was Grandma ever like that?” asked Rose, unsure if she really wanted an answer. The Doctor lowered his hands, resting his arms across his knees.
“She was, yes,” said the Doctor.
“I’m glad Mum’s not like that,” said Rose. She sat next to the Doctor, their knees brushing as she settled in. Rose wrapped her arm through his, elbows linked, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. She wouldn’t have said those things if she knew who you were.”
The Doctor kissed the top of her head.
“I never got on with mothers. Especially not with this face. At least she didn’t slap me,” said the Doctor.
“You get along fine with my Mum. She would never hit you,” said Rose. The Doctor, remembering the many times Donna left his cheek stinging, decided some stories were best kept under wraps. They watched the river as they leaned against each other. Just as the water moved towards the sea, calm and steady, so did time, passing by in their mutual support.
“So what are you thinking? Should we see if she’s at Graham’s house?” asked Rose.
“Fairy circles,” said the Doctor.
“What?” asked Rose. The Doctor shifted, taking a handful of dirt from the flowerbed behind them. Rose wrinkled her nose as he took a sniff. He took a pinch in his free hand and sprinkled the granules onto his tongue. He smacked his lips, before nodding to himself.
“Yep, fairy circles.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Rose. True to form, he answered her question with another question.
“What do you notice about this flower bed?”
“That it has tasty of dirt, apparently,” said Rose, pulling back as the Doctor ate another pinch of dirt. “That is really gross. Please stop.”
“Go on. Have a look. What do you see?” asked the Doctor.
“You’re avoiding my question,” said Rose. “What are we going to do now?”
“Humor me.”
Rose sighed, reluctantly following directions. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she turned back towards the Doctor. “It’s just a flower bed.”
“But?” said the Doctor. Rose glared at him. No question she got that look from her mother.
Now that she was looking for something out of the ordinary, she found her eyes sliding over a particular spot, like there was a corner that didn’t want to be seen. She squinted, forcing herself to find the edge of where it became hard to grasp on to. Again, she found herself glancing over it, like a skater on ice.
“It’s like, something’s there, but I can’t quite see it,” said Rose. The Doctor’s face warmed with a smile as he watched Rose work through the block.
“It’s called a perception filter. When I landed my TARDIS here, part of the dimensional transcendental chameleon-circuit welded its perception properties to the spatio-temporal plane of the flowerbox.”
“In English, what does that mean?” asked Rose.
“It means one notices that the crocuses are blooming six months out of season,” said Yaz.
The Doctor spun around so quickly that his coattails hit Rose in the face as he stood. Rose recognized Yaz from the hours she spent drawing her but Yaz was still searching for a face she knew. The face she loved. Rose even saw a flash of jealousy as Yaz gave her a cursory glance at his seemingly new companion.
“Doctor?” Yaz’s face weighed down by the answer she already knew.
“Hiya, Yaz,” said the Doctor, his own voice cracking. “It’s me.”
The Doctor fought with himself, wanting to take her in his arms and never let go, and the understanding that he was a complete stranger to her. He was still a stranger to himself. How could he ask her to trust him blindly when he didn’t even trust his own instincts?
Yaz too, stood still, waiting for any sign that the Doctor, her Doctor, was still in there, despite the new body. She tugged on the cuff of her sleeve. The inked reminder WWTDD washed off long ago but still the message left a scar on her heart.
Rose reached up and gave the Doctor’s back a small push. It was the jumpstart he needed, and his feet took over. The movement snapped Yaz out of her own reflections and took a few hesitant steps forward. And then their desire for each other’s companionship took over. They drew each other close. Yaz buried her face in the Doctor’s chest while the Doctor pressed his forehead against the top of her head.
“I never thought I would see you again,” said Yaz.
The Doctor then had his answer. She didn’t wait for him. She thought she was abandoned, like so many others. His hand tangling in her hair, pulling her in, as the first tears began to fall.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was wet as his hearts tore themselves apart, laying bare his feelings that he struggled to express the last time around. “Yaz, I am so sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, her own voice raw. “Doctor, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I do,” said the Doctor. He pulled his hand out of her hair, trailing down her back. She looked up into his bloodshot eyes. Gone were the flecks of gold that kept all the secrets at bay, instead replaced with a readiness to share. “I pretended not to see your feelings for me because I wasn’t ready to have my feelings exposed. By keeping secrets, I hurt not just you, but it hurt me too. More than I realized.”
Yaz reached up a tender hand to whip away the newly shed tears. The Doctor melted into her touch, his own hand pressing against hers. And as she started to slide her hand away, he guided her palm over his lips for a tender kiss.
“Doctor,” said Yaz. Her eyes searched his for answers. Her lips began to tremble, but no question came out. The Doctor let her hand drop as he sought his battered hearts for the right things to say.
“I’m still hurting. I’m finally feeling all those things that I’ve been running from. And I’m sorry that it took for me to regeneration to finally learn how to open up to you. That it took a new face for me to show you how much I care.”
“I always knew you cared for me. I just wanted you to love me as deeply as I loved you,” said Yaz.
The Doctor heard the use of past tense. He closed his eyes against the sight of her heartbroken face. He felt her hands slide into his. His old hands once fit hers perfectly. Now his fingers felt too long. This body was too tall. Too thin. Too different. How could he think she could still love him after this dramatic change?
The slow trickle of tears soon cascaded down his face. Centuries of grief, unhealed heartbreaks, years of living alone, it all came pouring out as the cork was finally removed from the bottle that held his pain. He gripped her hands as his body wracked with sobs.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, Yaz. And if you don’t want me, this me, I understand.”
“What are you talking about?” The Doctor opened his eyes again. Yaz searched his face for answer, her own confused and a little upset.
“I just thought, well, your feelings would change… now that I’m not a woman anymore.”
“Did you really think something as absurd as gender would change how I feel about you?” The Doctor answered with a bashful look. “You really are an idiot sometimes.”
His hearts alighted with a newly kindled hope. A laugh bubbled forth and sputtering tears fell in an ugly confliction of his tangled emotions. He laughed even more as Yaz found herself laugh crying too. Their hands still locked he lifted them, pressing her palms against his chest. Yaz felt his hearts racing. And yes, she wished to hold those breasts she lusted for, but that body was not what she had fallen in love with.
“I’m fixing myself to this time, to this planet, to this little rock called Britain. Can I fix myself to you?”
The Doctor thought he could hear her heart quicken. Her eyes couldn’t blink back the tears as her face radiated with joy. In the past week, finding herself alone in her childhood bedroom, she denied herself the hope of every seeing the Doctor again. Never would she have let herself come close to hoping to hear those words. And here, the marvelous Doctor, no matter what gender they chose, was asking to be with her.
“Yes,” said Yaz. She thought her heart could not contain all the joy she felt. “A thousand times yes!”
Yaz took the Doctor’s face in her, pulling him into the kiss she had only ever dreamed about. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, mind racing with the joy of finally finding someone to cling to. Their lips alighted with love that they had denied themselves for so long. Finaly free from the prison of their own making, they let their hearts beat as one, ready to spend whatever time the universe would allow.
Rose, watching from the sidelines, pulled her mobile out of her pocket. She typed a quick message to her Mum and looked up in time to see Yaz jerking away, spitting and sputtering.
“What is that?” Yaz sputtered.
“What is what?” asked the Doctor, astonished. “I know for a fact you have French Kissing in this century.”
“Not that!” snapped Yaz, raking her sleeve over her tongue. “Were you eating dirt? Again?”
The Doctor mumbled something about the possibility of sampling some local soil as Yaz gave him a disbelieving look.
“Seriously, you should stop doing that,” said Rose. Yaz blushed as she remembered that there was another person present.
“Oh, right, sorry. Yaz, meet the newest member of the family, my niece, Rose Noble.” The two woman shook hands.
“You’ve got a family again?” asked Yaz. The Doctor took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. He decided that this new hand did not like being without hers.
“I always had a family with you. I’ve just expanded it is all,” said the Doctor.
Rose could see Yaz wasn’t sure of how to take that information. It has only been a week for her but there was still so much she had missed in the Doctor’s life.
“Would you like to meet everyone?” asked Rose. “I’m sure Mum won’t mind. If the Doctor says you’re his family, then you're our family too.”
~*~*~*~
The Doctor’s hands fidgeted with a piece of lint under the table, watching as Shaun and Rose sort out the cauliflower debacle. Another shotgun blast rang out and only the Doctor’s superior hearing could make out the extra ting of the bullet bouncing off the forcefield. Donna saw the Doctor’s subtle glace towards the back door. She reached out and squeezed his knee.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare,” said Yaz. The Doctor’s expression alighted immediately. Standing, he took her in his arms, burring his nose on the top of her head. She smelled of determination and pride. Of compassion and courage. And just a hint of lavender.
His hand traced the side of her face as he leaned in towards her. Her soft lips smiled at his tender kiss. She reached up to stroke his face too. Yaz pulled her head back to look into his beautiful new eyes.
“That’s something I still haven’t gotten used to,” said Yaz.
“What? The stubble?” asked the Doctor, running a hand over his jaw. He didn’t think it was that coarse. He certainly had worse, not that Yaz would know. He made a mental note to show Yaz the slideshow of his other faces one day. Yaz shook her head, smiling.
“The kissing.”
The Doctor beamed. He took her hand to lead her to the table, excited to introduce her to the rest of his family.