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And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings
And longing stares
It's born from just one single glance
But it dies and it dies and it dies
...a million little times
She’s not sure why they’re hiding it. It started like every relationship does - the looks that start to linger just a little too long. The glances that turn more and more heated as time passes. The quiet touches as she passes by while talking, her hands not being able to resist touches in front of their other friends. The calls for help when their situation got a little too dangerous while on a new adventure, the ones that purveyed more fear for the her than she showed for the others.
At first they justified it, it’ll be too complicated if the others know. It’ll add too many tensions between the team if they talk about it. It’ll create unnecessary this and needless that.
But really, if they were completely honest with themselves, they wanted to be selfish with what started—the precious little flame that was too young to face any sort of wind.
But the Doctor knew that it was fruitless. Like every other companion she’s ever fallen for, it would die. They could die.
At first, the Doctor tried to convince herself that Yaz was different. She would stay safe, she wouldn’t get hurt, and it would help if they kept it quiet. If they kept it to the dark rooms and moments of peace between the new planets and problems that presented themselves at every turn.
And at first it worked. There were quiet I love you’s before they left the TARDIS each time as they embarked on their next journey. Whether it was into the past or some distant future that Yaz could hardly recognize as her home planet.
The Doctor had never been happier. She was traveling with her best friends and her new love. She was exploring like never before, and she had someone special to share it with. But nothing with the Doctor ever lasts.
Take the words for what they are
A dwindling, mercurial high
A drug that only worked
The first few hundred times
It started when the Doctor overheard a conversation between Yaz and Ryan. Whispers of missing home, wondering what they’ll return to, wondering who they’ll return as. The Doctor had told them when they first joined her team, traveling with her changes a person, what they see and the decisions they’ll have to make might haunt them for the rest of their days. They questioned if they were ignoring home, if they’re missing out too much on the life that they had thought they’d live out, the reliable, dependable
She tries to remember the other whispers, the ones that begged for more. More time. More. More. But instead all she got was the tired sighs of On we go. The one that told the Doctor that she didn’t have much time left. No matter how she tried. No matter how many times she saved her love, no matter how many times she told her how important Yaz is to her, no matter how many times the Doctor tries to balance out the thrill and the danger with tranquility and bliss, they always leave.
She’d hoped Yaz was different. That this time, she wouldn’t find herself alone and cursing.
And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings
And stolen stares
They show their truth one single time
But they lie and they lie and they lie
...a million little times
“Yaz…” The Doctor tries to start one day, in one of those moments of quiet in a dark room. Please tell me you aren’t feeling what I think you are. Please tell me you’ll stay. But instead what came out was, “Where should we go next?”
“I don’t know. I mean, we’ve been to so many places. We’ve seen so much.” Yaz whispers, her fingers trailing up and down the Doctor’s bare skin on her arm, so lightly it’s hardly even a touch. But even so, it makes every nerve in the Doctor’s body light up.
“Anywhere in the universe.” she says, all the while begging in her mind, just one more. Please. Don’t leave. Not yet. We’ve not done enough.
“What if…” Yaz trailed off, her thoughts pulling her off somewhere the Doctor wasn’t able to follow, “What if…”
The Doctor holds her breath as Yaz attempts to put her thoughts to words, but something seems to change her mind and Yaz just trails off into silence, as if she didn’t have the courage to say them.
I guess that makes two of us. Instead of voicing their fears and baring their souls to each other, they soak up the peace that comes with the silence. The empty quietness that comes with the unspoken words.
“Doctor? Yaz?” Graham calls out, making both of the women jump. They look in each other's eyes, knowing that this conversation is over. If you could even count that as a conversation.
But the Doctor knows, without Yaz having to even utter a single syllable, that neither of them are ready to let go of what they had with each other, but also tired. Tired of the secrets. Tired of the rendezvous to dark rooms, hardly finding their breath between frantic gasps and desperate words. And every time they tried to approach each other, and say there’s nothing to be tired of. We tell Ryan and Graham and it’s done. We’re free to do whatever we want. But something stops them from being honest every time.
And you wanna scream
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else
Look at this idiotic fool that you made me
You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else
“Doctor, what do we do.” Ryan’s panicked voice crackles through the speaker. She could hear Graham accompany the cries of desperation through the thick metal door.
“You have to… You have to -” The Doctor was blanking. She’d never blanked before. She tried to urge her synapses to fire, to get her brains to think of something. Anything. The smallest trick that could help get them out. To get Yaz out. But she keeps getting tripped up on that word. Yaz. Her Yaz. Yasmin Kahn. One of the first she’d opened up to in this way in a long time, and they were about to suffocate together in the tiny, metal pod. Because of course, they couldn’t have one quiet adventure, one without the threat of death and inevitable sorrow.
“How are we going to get out of this?” Yaz’s soft voice breaks through the crashing and burning of the Doctor’s brain. Get out. Get Yaz out.
“I-I…”
“Doctor!” Yaz grabs the Doctor’s shoulders, yanking her closer. She grabs the Doctor’s face in her hands, forcing her to look into Yaz’s eyes, “Focus. It can’t just be about me. It never can, so forget me. Forget anything we had was real. I’m not Yaz, I’m not your…” She trails off, glancing over to where the intercom is still flashing red, indicating that Ryan and Graham are able to hear every word, “Forget I was ever special to you. And get. Us. Out.”
Every word that slips out of Yaz’s mouth stabs deeper and pushes into the darkest parts of the Doctor’s hearts. Something hardens in there. A question forms, begging to be asked instead of coming up with a solution. The solution doesn’t matter because why would it matter when she’d have nothing to live for. Again. But it’s not just about her is it? It’s about Yaz. And Ryan. And Graham. Her fam.
So rather than ask the question, she takes Yaz’s advice. And she gets them out, the idea coming to her tongue before her mind even has a chance to catch up with the plan she just thought of.
“Ryan. Graham. Do you see the panel next to the door? There’s wiring coming out of the bottom, pull them from their connection there and open the panel. Inside you’ll see…” She freezes, her words coming to an abrupt stop.
“Doc?” Graham asks, “What’s next? We have the panel open. Doc.” He tries to prod at her with her words, but he can’t see why she stopped. They’re running out of time. She’s looking at Yaz, and she can tell it won’t be long until she can’t breathe anymore.
“Next, you…” Her brain won’t work. She can’t get the words out, watching Yaz struggle to breathe. Why won’t her brain work. It’s never failed her in the past like this, watching someone she cares for, someone she loves, get hurt motivates her mind to work faster and better than ever. But she’s never loved someone like this. She’s never let herself give into her fantasies before. So rather than just pretending that what they had together wasn’t real, she had to force it. To speak it into existence to save Yaz.
“I’m sorry, Yaz.” She whispers to herself, “None of this was even real. It never was. It was just pretend.”
She has to save her.