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Darkness has just begun to blanket the city as Yaz makes her way to the Tardis. Her leather jacket hugged her shoulders, and she had a delicately wrapped present clutched under her arm.
The Tardis stands in the same spot, always parked right outside her flat block. All the impromptu and crash landings, yet the Doctor somehow manages to land in front of Yaz's place perfectly every time. Yaz's cheeks warm and a soft smile starts to form as she thinks about what that might mean.
The streets are oddly silent, except for the soft padding of Yaz's boots against the gravel and wind rustling the wrapping paper. As she nears the Tardis, Yaz swears she can hear soft music crackling. There are instruments that she can't place playing a tune that sounds almost too whimsical to be human. Yaz inches closer, ears straining to pick up lyrics and place the language going with the melody. When she listens closely she can hear another voice, softly singing along with practiced ease. It makes Yaz smile, the sounds warm and comforting despite her confusion. An old record most likely not of this earth, she summarises. She can't hold back her laughter, a vivid picture of the Doctor enthusiastically dancing around the console entering her mind.
"What's so funny?" A teasing voice sounds right beside Yaz's ear.
She spins around lightning fast, hand pressed over her chest. The smiling faces of Ryan and Graham are a welcome sight. Her eyes narrow on Ryan's bemused grin, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Don't do that!" Yaz exclaims and gives Ryan a light shove.
He keeps sniggering undeterred, and drapes an arm around Yaz's shoulders. "Aw, did I scare you Yaz?"
"Shut up," Yaz mumbles, no real heat to her tone.
Graham shakes his head. "Ignore this donut Yaz."
Just as Ryan opens his mouth to retort, the Tardis doors fly open and Yaz's breath hitches. The Doctor leans against the doorframe, her smile brighter than any star they've seen - and they've seen their fair share of them.
"Hiya Gang!"
"Alright, Doc," Graham claps her shoulder gently, "you been waiting long?"
The Doctor affectionately pats the side of her beloved box. "I have a time machine Graham, I'm never waiting for long!"
Ryan nudges Yaz's side, eyeing the parcel with glee, "Who's the present for?"
The Doctor instantly looks up, a child-like wonder taking over her expression. She shamelessly focuses her attention on the present, her smile quickly spreading as her gaze falls to the tag peaking out from beneath Yaz's fingers. Yaz quickly slides her hand over it, fighting the urge to smile at the pout that forms on the Doctor's lips.
"Did everybody bring presents?" The Doctor asks, gaze flitting to Ryan and then Graham as if their hands would magically contain presents too.
Yaz takes her chance whilst the Doctor is distracted, and lets her gaze wander. She watches the Doctor's fingers fiddle with the clips of her suspenders. Her nails dig under the metal teeth, and she keeps flipping the latch open, and then closed. She's always been a sucker for a woman in suspenders.
Someone clears their throat, and Yaz is pulled back to the present, cheeks flushing at the 3 sets of eyes focused solely on her.
Ryan raises an eyebrow. "So, you think we should go there too, Yaz?"
Her eyes widen comically, and she manages a feeble nod as her brain scrambles to catch up with the conversation.
"Plungeropolis is a fascinating planet." The Doctor claps her hands together, words radiating pure unadulterated excitement. "You'll love it! They have 16 statues made from toilets and a giant slide that leads you into a ball bit of toilet roll!"
Yaz forces a smile, poorly concealing her grimace.
The Doctor pats her shoulder. "Don't worry Yaz, the toilet roll isn't used!"
"Oh…uh, wow Doctor. That sounds…" Yaz trails off, struggling to muster any real excitement.
She looks at the boys with hopeful eyes, shoulders slumping at their amused gazes.
Graham's smile is all too knowing as he shakes his head. Ryan sniggers. The Doctor remains silent for all of 3 seconds before a megawatt smile takes over her face. Any words she tries to get out are lost in a sea of belly laughs.
Yaz's embarrassment washes away and is quickly replaced with a warmth that makes her heart flutter. Watching her favourite person so full of joy is worth getting caught staring. The Doctor clutches her sides, nearly doubled over as laughter shakes through her. The sight sends Yaz, Ryan and Graham into their own sea of giggles.
It takes a few minutes for the laughter to subside. Graham recovers first, wiping his eyes as he asks, "Where are we really going then, Doc?"
The Doctor's eyes twinkle with mirth and she dramatically taps her nose. "I can't tell ya. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
Ryan and Yaz share excited grins, a surprise with The Doctor was bound to be interesting.
Graham sports a playful pout. "Aw c'mon, you're not gonna give us a clue?"
"Nope!" The Doctor shakes her head. "The puppy eyes won't work on me, Graham."
Ryan bumps Graham's shoulder gently, leaning in to stage whisper: "You're not her favourite Grandad."
The Doctor puts her hands on her hips, making indignant noises of protest. "I do not have favourites!" She exclaims loudly.
Ryan rolls his eyes murmuring a quiet 'sure you don't' and enters the Tardis before The Doctor can retort. Graham quickly follows, chuckling to himself as The Doctor continues to protest. The door clicks shut behind them, giving only a sliver of privacy.
The Doctor spins on her heel, turning to face Yaz fully.
"Yaz! Wasn't sure you'd make it tonight, Ryan said your boss was being a bit of an…" the Doctor looks around with suspicious eyes. The street lights make her usually vivid gaze pop with colour, light flickering making her gaze all that much more intense. She leans closer to whisper, "idiot."
"Doctor!" Yaz puts a hand over her chest. "Such terrible language!"
"I could've called him a shrivelled sack of-"
The rest of The Doctor's words are lost, cut off as Yaz rushes forward to clamp a hand over her mouth. Their gazes meet slowly. The Doctor is frozen in place, unusually still and her gaze locked onto Yaz's hand. Yaz is rooted in her spot, unable to move her arm as warm breath hits the back of her hand. The only movement she can manage is the way her eyes dart frantically, looking anywhere but directly at the Doctor. The bold move surprising herself just as much as the Doctor. Yaz only pulls back when The Doctor mumbles behind her hand.
"I'm glad you're here." The Doctor says quietly.
Yaz smiles softly. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
The Doctor wiggles her eyebrows and shakes her head, eagerly grabbing Yaz's shoulder. "You'll be eating those words when you see where I'm taking you!"
"We better get in then, before Graham asks us to stop off for a bacon sarnie."
The Doctor huffs and shakes her head, a fond, exasperated smile toying with her lips. She gestures to the Tardis with a nod of her head and holds the door open for her with one hand. Yaz moves quickly, her foot catching on a rogue stone and tripping over the threshold. The Doctor rushes forward, strong arms wrapping around Yaz's waist and stopping her mid-tumble.
"How did you-" Yaz gasps and looks up, completely awestruck.
The Doctor gently guides Yaz to her feet, her hands lingering on Yaz's back.
"Can't have ya falling before take off!" The Doctor replies cheerfully. "Think you can manage getting in okay now?"
Yaz's cheeks burn, and not for the first time is she thankful the Doctor doesn't seem to notice. Not trusting her voice, she manages a small nod. The Doctor gives Yaz's back a little rub and gently nudges her in the right direction.
The doors close with a soft click and the Tardis instantly brightens as The Doctor makes her way to the console. She flicks one of the buttons, pulling down two levers as she passes by.
Yaz slowly makes her way up, shaky fingers toying with the bundle in her hands. She releases a breath and looks up to find Graham's eyes on her. He flashes her a soft, encouraging smile and not so subtly jerks his head in The Doctor's direction.
The Doctor spins on her heel and claps her hands together. "Are we ready Fam?"
"You're still calling us that?" Ryan scrunches his face in distaste.
The Doctor pointedly ignores the interruption, focusing her attention on Yaz once more. Yaz nods her head and is rewarded with one of The Doctor's brightest smiles.
"Doctor, before we go, I-" Yaz bites her lip, gaze falling to her hands, "I have something for you."
"You brought a gift? For me?!" The Doctor's smile lights up her entire face.
Yaz holds out the present, her smile turning shy as the timelord crosses the space between them. The Doctor wastes no time and tears into the gift with equal parts impatience and careful consideration -- just incase she might want to preserve the wrapping for later. She keeps her excitement in check for mere seconds, before ripping a large hole into the side like a puppy with a new toy. She yanks the contents from its wrapping and tosses the paper over her shoulder without second thought.
The Doctor stares adoringly at a beautifully woven scarf. The silky soft cotton is a bold, deep navy with several multicoloured lines running down one side. It perfectly compliments the Doctor's shirt. She runs her fingers over the patterning, delicately tracing the lines where the colours meet.
Yaz bites her lip. "Do you like it?"
The Doctor wordlessly nods, unable to look away from the scarf.
"Really? You do?"
The question is shy. She didn't intend it to be, but her disbelief shines through, and it pulls the Doctor back to the present. She drapes the scarf over her neck, and takes a moment to adjust it to a more comfortable position before turning her gaze back to her companion.
"I love it. Thank you, Yaz." The Doctor leans and places a featherlight kiss upon Yaz's cheek. She swallows down the racing thump of her heart, currently crawling its way up her throat. The Doctor's calloused thumb brushes over the spot, still damp, and Yaz melts into it, her head leaning into the touch. stroking over the spot with her thumb.
Yaz splutters something incoherent, a soft 'you're welcome' lost to a quiet gasp. The press of The Doctor's surprisingly soft lips against her cheek sending a warm rush through her.
The Doctor is close -- way too close -- and Yaz drowns in the rush. The Doctor is a tidal wave, a thrashing rage that sinks Yaz like a stone with nothing but the stroke of a thumb. Yaz remembers the shift, when suddenly the Doctor's lips were all she could think about. It happened late one night, after they'd left Kerblam. Ryan and Graham had fallen asleep fairly quickly, both collapsing as soon as they'd entered the Tardis library. But not Yaz. The Doctor had taken one look at her pained smile and had marched Yaz back into the console room. That night they'd sat together with steaming mugs of hot chocolate, adorned with whipped cream and sprinkles and enough mini marshmallows to feed an army of Pting. (The only way to hot chocolate according to The Doctor. And who was Yaz to question it?!) They'd sat together and Yaz had listened as The Doctor told her stories about the stars. Her upper lip had gained a rather impressive cream moustache and Yaz had let her gaze slip, just the once.
It was foolish really, how quickly she began to imagine what those lips would feel like. Yaz tried to push the thought out of her mind but it always lingered. Were the Doctor's lips chapped? Would they be dry and a bit coarse? Maybe her lips would taste like tea. They did enough running around and Yaz had yet to see The Doctor drink anything (other than the 5 cups of tea at her flat). Or would they be covered in biscuit crumbs?
Maybe they'd be coated in the cherry lip balm Yaz had bought for herself. The Doctor had been fascinated. She'd even mentioned a glow-in-the-dark chapstick she'd invented, all over a tin pot and her sonic screwdriver. A story which did not help Yaz stop imagining what would happen if The Doctor kissed her with glowing, soft lips. Even after all this contemplation, she didn't realise they would be this soft.
The Doctor takes a step back, readjusting her scarf and slowly moving back towards the centre of the room. Yaz follows her movements, gaze kept solely on the Doctor.
"This is amazing!" The Doctor says, and does a clumsy runway spin on her way back to the console.
Yaz tries not to mourn the loss of contact. She fails.
The Doctor looks back at Yaz when she reaches the console. Her grin is all teeth and threatening to take over her entire face. The enthusiasm is infectious, Yaz can't stop herself from beaming right back at her. Just for a second everything else fades away, the chattering silenced by the thumping of 3 hearts. The Tardis lets out what Yaz imagines is her version of a content sigh, the lights slipping into a soft pink hue that sparkles around the room.
The Doctor's nose wrinkles and she huffs out a loud breath. She scowls at the console, glaring at it like a petulant child.
"Stop that," she grumbles, barely audible as she resumes her fiddling, muttering under her breath in a clearly private conversation with her ship,. "Now you're just being nosy."
Someone clearing their throat brings Yaz out of her Doctor daze, and her eyes flit to the culprit. How long had Ryan been standing beside her?!
"Where's my scarf then, mate?" he teases, gently bumping her shoulder. "Don't we get special, handmade gifts? Or is it just your giiiiirlfriend?"
Yaz digs her elbow into his side, smiling when Ryan bites back a yelp.
"The Doctor is not my girlfriend," Yaz hisses, giving him a warning glare.
Ryan simply grins, clearly unbothered by Yaz's denial.
"Yaz and The Doctor sitting in a tree…" He sing-songs quietly, diving away as Yaz lunges at him.
Before she can swipe at the back of Ryan's head a strong arm loops around her waist, gently holding Yaz in place. The Doctor gives her waist a light squeeze, and the heat in Yaz's glare starts to simmer.
At the same time Graham quickly grabs Ryan before Yaz can reach and walks him to the opposite end of the console. He whispers something for only Ryan to hear and pats his shoulder softly.
"Yaz, why don't you help me program the destination?" The Doctor suggests.
She doesn't wait for a response, eagerly tugging Yaz over to the levers. The Doctor leans into her space, a hand resting on Yaz's shoulder as she guides her in the process.
"You're doing brilliantly, Yaz," The Doctor whispers softly.
Graham winces from his place wrapped around a podium. "Doc, are we nearly there yet?"
Ryan laughs, clapping him on the back and then sends a slightly shaky grin to Yaz over the console. She rolls her eyes, but her playful smirk is enough to show it's all in jest.
The journey is a little rocky, but Yaz can't find it in herself to care. Not when The Doctor's hand is tracing little planet shapes over her shoulder blade. The Tardis comes to a stop only a little shaky. A welcome change to their usual crash landings.
"Alright gang, who's ready to see something amazing?" The Doctor asks, clapping her hands together with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas.
Ryan raises an eyebrow, "Where exactly are we?"
The Doctor grins from ear to ear and nods to the door.
"You lot love to ask questions," The Doctor shakes her head and makes a show of striding to the door. "Why not see for yourselves."
Yaz doesn't hesitate to cross the space, unable to hide her own eagerness. Her hand rests on the door and she's rewarded by a gentle surge of warmth beneath her fingertips.
Ryan and Graham follow Yaz, their curiosities beating any hesitance they have away. The Doctor is bouncing on her heels, eyes lighting up the second Yaz opens the door.
They're met with splashes of colour in every direction. The entire galaxy sparkles to life before their eyes. Dark twilight skies are illuminated by vast pops of vibrant light. Fireworks spark in every direction, spiraling and exploding in a dance amongst the stars.
"Welcome to the first of nineteen cosmic firework displays!" The Doctor explains.
She leans against the doorframe as the others press together. Watching their awestruck expressions with a fond gaze.
"It's the best way to see the new year," The Doctor continues eagerly chattering, "each one is special, with different colours and each year they up their sparking game!"
Ryan shakes his head, speaking through a barely concealed snigger. "Sparking game?"
"That's the official term, I'll have you know."
"Right, course." Ryan hums his disbelief, turning back to the display before she can reply.
The Doctor shifts closer to Yaz, her smile widening as she takes her in. Yaz gasps as a shimmer of purple erupts beside them, the colours rippling like a wave crashing through the sky.
"This is incredible," Yaz whispers, barely audible.
But The Doctor hears her. She always hears her.
She shifts closer to rest a hand on Yaz's shoulder. "Only the very best in the entire galaxy for my team."
Yaz leans into the touch, eagerly moving to press further against The Doctor. The hand on her shoulder slips down to her waist and then strong arms are snaking around Yaz's waist, holding her tightly. The Doctor rests her chin against Yaz's shoulder.
"This okay?" The Doctor whispers gently.
Yaz hums contently, sinking further into the warmth The Doctor radiates.
"You're warm," Yaz murmurs, her voice laced with softness. "It's nice. This is really nice."
The Doctor smiles into Yaz's shoulder, speaking as much to herself as to her companion. "Yeah, it is."
For a while they stay laced together, watching the sky shimmer and sparkle. It's only when the colours start to fade away, that Yaz realises Ryan and Graham are no longer standing beside them.
She vaguely remembers Graham mumbling something about getting a drink. But answering would've meant tearing herself away from cuddling the Doctor, there really wasn't another choice.
The Doctor also seems to realise they're the only ones still watching. She clears her throat, forcing her gaze forward. Not daring to even glance at Yaz.
"We should probably go to the next display now, right?" Yaz asks with a soft sigh.
The Doctor presses her face against Yaz's shoulder, her voice low and drowsy, like a child pulled out of bed too early. "Not yet. I'm comfy."
Yaz bites her lip. Her gaze lingers on the mess of blonde hair brushing against her neck, on nimble fingers tracing soothing, unearthy patterns on her stomach. She closes her eyes, letting the tenderness of their embrace wash over her.
This is the closest any of them had been to The Doctor, for all of her seemingly endless joy and excitement, physical touches with her were rare and offered sparingly. The one scorching exception was Norway: the Doctor's fingers curled around Yaz's wrist as she had pulled her towards the bed. Yaz's mind hadn't been able to focus on anything but the softness of the Doctor's touch. But this. This closeness, the warmth that wrapped around Yaz was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Not enough but completely overwhelming. The Doctor smells of engine oil and the faintest wisp of leftover custard creams. It should be an odd mix. Maybe it is. Regardless, Yaz craves more.
"I'm glad you chose to travel with me." The Doctor speaks quietly, so quietly that Yaz wonders if she imagined it. "The Tardis is too."
Yaz shifts in the Doctor's arms, spinning to face her. They're faces are barely a nose apart. How easy it would be to lean in.
"Didn't realise you were such a cuddler." Yaz blurts out, eyes widening as she realises how flirtatious her words sound, "Uh, I mean-"
The Doctor chuckles and Yaz can feel her lips moving, can see how dazzlingly bright her smile is up close.
"Neither did I. Some bodies like the closeness," she wrinkles her nose, "my last one wasn't much of a hugger. Not sure if I like the touch now either."
Yaz raises an eyebrow. "But you're touching me."
It isn't a question, but the curiosity still filters into her tone.
"I like touching you."
The Doctor says those four words with a certainty that leaves Yaz breathless. Four words that propel Yaz forward, her hands moving to gently cup The Doctor's face.
"Is this okay?" Yaz asks, keeping their gazes locked.
She searches The Doctor's face, scanning her expression for any sign of hesitance. When she finds none, Yaz leans in further, letting her nose brush against The Doctor's.
"What about now?" Yaz whispers huskily, surprising herself at the way her voice drops several octaves.
The Doctor shifts a fraction back, her eyes wide and lips parted as she lets out a shaky gasp. Yaz shrinks under the heat of the gaze, panic flooding across her features. Her hands instantly fall to her sides and her gaze quickly diverts to her feet.
Before she can start to stutter an apology the Doctor is frantically unravelling her scarf at an inhuman speed. She gently drapes the material around Yaz's neck, insistently tugging on the ends to reel Yaz back into her space. The Doctor puts a finger under Yaz's chin, lifting her face back up until their gazes lock once more.
"I like it when you touch me." The Doctor presses on, each word punctuated with a tug of the scarf, "I want you to touch me."
"Why me?" Yaz chokes out a forced laugh. "I'm nothing special."
The Doctor's face falls, her eyes especially soft and laced with sadness. She shakes her head and brings a hand to caress Yaz's cheek.
"Oh, Yasmin Khan, you could not be more wrong." The Doctor tucks a stray strand of hair behind Yaz's ear, and gives the scalf a small tug. "There's something special about how soft and loving you are. Not everyone can be as kind and compassionate as you, Yaz."
The Doctor powers on, passionate words flowing out in a frenzied list. "The way you helped Willa and Hanne is something special. Graham told me you took him to the park where he and Grace would sit together, by the duck pond,"
"I was just-"
The Doctor holds up a finger, loudly shushing her as she continues.
"And you just sat there, listenin'. That meant a lot to him, Yaz. That's not nothing! And the first night we met my brains were a little scrambled, but I have excellent hearing," The Doctor's smile is only a little smug as she says it, "I heard you talking to Ryan on the crane, heard you reassuring him."
Yaz sighs, "but that wasn't anything-"
"Don't you dare sell yourself short again!" The Doctor exclaims,desperately clutching Yaz's shoulders.
The force of the action snaps Yaz out of her head, finally bringing her gaze back to the Doctor. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, lip starting to tremble. The Doctor's deep eyes bore into Yaz's, like she can see into her soul. Maybe she can.
It's the intensity of the stare that pulls the apology from Yaz's lips. A hush of a whisper that falls instantly. The need to take any ounce of hurt away from the Doctor hammers in Yaz's brain as she repeats the words again and again.
The Doctor gently presses a finger to Yaz's lip, the crease on her forehead softened considerably as she leans forward again.
"You don't owe me an apology Yaz. It just breaks my hearts that you can't see how wonderful you are." The Doctor keeps eye contact, her words said with unwavering confidence. "And I'm not going to stop reminding you! Because you are special and you deserve to know that. I'll remind you every day and then maybe one day you'll believe me."
Yaz isn't sure when the tears began to fall, but the Doctor's thumb comes away wet when she brushes her cheek. She leans in closer to press her forehead against Yaz's. The Doctor's free hand trails downward, finding a spot between Yaz's shoulder blades to gently stroke up and down.
"It's okay Yaz. I've got you. You're okay." The Doctor whispers the words, keeping them in time with her hand on her back.
Yaz leans into the touch, rushes of warmth radiating from the Doctor's fingertips. Those wonderfully soft lips barely graze Yaz's cheeks, but it's enough to send butterflies stampeding through her stomach. It's the Doctor who leans in this time, stopping just before their lips meet.
"I haven't kissed anyone in this body." The Doctor wrinkles her nose. "Not sure if I'll be good at it. I don't want to disappoint you."
"I don't think that's possible," Yaz whispers, gaze dropping to the Doctor's lips.
The Doctor inches closer, hand moving from Yaz's back to grasp the scarf (still draped around her companion's neck) and slowly tug it. Yaz lets herself be guided closer and closer, her eyes fluttering shut as the Doctor's lips press against her own. She melts into the embrace, sighing into the Doctor's mouth.
The first brush of lips is fleeting, a ghost of a touch. The Doctor pulls back for a fraction of a second, her eyes quickly shifting to their darkest shade of green. Yaz lets out a pitiful whine, hands clutching at the Doctor's shoulders. That's all it takes for her to lean back in, to slide a hand up to Yaz's neck and bringing their lips together to meet again. Yaz's hands find purchase in the Doctor's hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.
The Doctor's lips are soft but she kisses with a force that would be sure to knock Yaz backwards had it not been for the Tardis's protective air bubble. Nails rake against the back of Yaz's neck and the sharpness mixed with the Doctor's eager exploration of her mouth has Yaz groaning against her lips. She edges closer still, hands moving to fist at the lapels of the Doctor's coat.
Yaz gently runs her tongue along the Doctor's lips, keeping her movements slow. The Doctor responds in kind, mouth willingly falling open to let Yaz take the lead. She tries to keep her movements chaste and fleeting but the pull of the Doctor's lips draws Yaz in. Everything fades away as Yaz lets herself fall into the universe. Never has anyone kissed Yaz with such a power.
It's unsurprising that her lips taste like custard creams. But there's something alluring, a musk mixed with something sweeter, so uniquely The Doctor that Yaz can't help but move closer, desperate for more. She meets the Doctor's every move eagerly. Every brush of their lips makes Yaz ache, and pulls her in further until she's wrapped into the embrace. Chasing the Doctor's lips is all she can think about.
The Doctor hums against her lips and there's nothing slow about it. Yaz is falling deeper with every breath, stars soaring past her eyelids. The Doctor's lips are so much more than Yaz allowed herself to imagine. Kissing the Doctor isn't like fireworks, it's like a supernova taking over every sense and sending rushes of warmth coursing through Yaz's veins. The Doctor nips at Yaz's lower lip, lightly soothing it with a flick of her tongue.
"Yaz I-" The Doctor murmurs, words trailing off as she refuses to tear her lips away.
It's not like Yaz can blame her. Their lips slide together so effortlessly that she can't fathom pulling away just yet. She needs more, more of the universe kissing her like it's their last breath. The Doctor's fingers trail down to play with the ends of Yaz's hair. Gently twirling a strand around one finger, she kisses Yaz slow and languid. All too soon they're breaking apart, both groaning simultaneously at the loss.
Yaz opens her eyes, slowly looking up to find the Doctor's gaze still lingering on her lips. She shakes her head, desperately trying to push away the urge to close the distance again. Yaz shifts just far enough that the Doctor can't reel her back in, chuckling softly at the groan of protest that she's met with. She gently taps at the Doctor's chin, prodding until the Doctor -- reluctantly-- meets her gaze.
"Happy New year Doctor." Yaz whispers it, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
The Doctor's grin sparks across her entire face. "I've never had a new year's kiss in this body! What a brilliant experience."
Heat ripples across Yaz's cheeks, her flush starting to feel like a permanent fixture whenever she's around the Doctor. She tries to steady her racing heartbeat, failing the second she spots the Doctor's gaze drifting back to her lips.
Yaz rolls her eyes, mostly at how her body makes no effort to hide how affected she is by the Doctor.
"Glad I could be of service then," Yaz says with a playful smirk.
The Doctor's eyes bulge and she frantically shakes her head. She moves her hand up until it reaches Yaz's face, gently caressing her cheek.
"I'm glad it were with you," The Doctor admits, a rare vulnerability in her tone, "been wanting to kiss you for a while."
Yaz's eyes shoot upward, balking at the Doctor's admission. She opens her mouth and then closes it, unable to find the words she wants to say.
The Doctor tenderly runs a finger down the curve of Yaz's jaw and then kisses over the same spot. Yaz smiles, the gesture warming her cheeks.
She'll have to thank the Doctor later for being able to read her so well. It's scary how quickly the Doctor was able to sort through Yaz's mental library, knowing exactly what to do and say to instantly put her at ease.
The Doctor starts to ramble, excitedly rattling off information like she's giving her own private tour of the universe. It gives Yaz a moment to breathe, her racing thoughts starting to calm with every flurried word.
The gentle press of the Doctor's fingers against Yaz's wrist brings her back to the present. It's easy to get lost in the stories, each one more whacky and miraculous than the previous. The eager rambling calms the nerves that linger in the far corners of Yaz's mind, replacing her worries with a fondness that spreads through Yaz like a comet soaring through the sky.
"--did you know that the kissing people on New year's tradition was actually started by a Roman soldier I knew back when I was all bowties and waistcoats and floppy hair," the Doctor explains with a wistful smile.
The familiar heat sparks again as Yaz's mind is filled with delectable images of the Doctor strutting around wearing a tux with a striped bowtie. Yaz can't focus on the ramble, not when she's picturing pressing the Doctor against a wall in one of the Tardis's many closets and kissing her senseless.
"-lovely bloke, met him when I went to-"
Yaz surges forward and presses her lips to the Doctor's, needy and fierce. The Doctor mumbles against her lips, startled for a flicker of a second before she's tilting her head and leaning into Yaz fully.
They don’t move until the Tardis beeps softly, a gentle warning before the sound of incoming footsteps follows. The Doctor waves her hand dismissively and dips her head to brush her lips against Yaz's.
"Is it safe to come back?" Ryan's teasing tone echoes around the console room.
Yaz and the Doctor groan simultaneously, turning to find Ryan peaking out from behind a pillar. His hands splay across his face shielding his eyes. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm not gonna have to sanitise the room am I?"
"The Tardis is self-sanitising Ryan, surely I've mentioned that."
She detaches herself from Yaz's hold, making a show of stomping over to the console. Yaz watches her work, flicking levers and pressing buttons as the Doctor busies herself with programming their next location. She catches Yaz's gaze and shoots her a cheeky wink before literally twirling her way around the console.
"Yaz is in looooooove," Ryan sing-songs in her ear and laughs when she immediately smacks his shoulder.
Yaz rubs the bridge of her nose, groaning as Ryan smirks at her.
"Shove off." it's a weak retort and it only makes his smile feel more victorious.
"You're not gonna kiss at the end of every display, are ya mate?" Ryan continues to goad her, clutching his chest dramatically. "Not sure my eyes could survive that."
"You'll just have to look away then, won't you," Yaz bites back, her gaze subconsciously flitting to the console.
Ryan laughs and bumps her shoulder lightly, grinning from ear to ear. Yaz can't keep the smile from her face, even as Ryan sings in her ear. It's not long before Graham wanders back into the room, glancing from Yaz to the Doctor and then landing on Ryan's smug smile. He smiles patting Yaz's back as he passes her, pushing a warm cup of cocoa into her hands.
"You're glowing cockle," he remarks softly, and gives her arm a light squeeze.
Ryan is still smirking at her but Yaz can't find it in herself to care. Not when The Doctor is beckoning her over with a warm smile. Yaz crosses the space within seconds, slowly sipping her cocoa as the Doctor drapes an arm across her shoulder. She finds herself tucked into the Doctor's side, with soft lips pressing against the crook of her neck and fingers gently running through her hair.
"D'ya think I can get the Tardis to speed up the next display?" The Doctor asks in a quiet whisper.
Yaz turns her head, grinning up at her. "Trust me, it'll be worth the wait."