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"Where do you reckon we'll be off to today?" Ryan asked, trailing Graham and Yaz through the TARDIS corridors.
"I don't mind where we're going so much as when. If I see another dinosaur or any prehistoric creature ten years from now, it'll be too soon," Graham shuddered at the memory of a furious brontosaurus.
When they turned the corner into the control room, Yaz halted so quickly Ryan narrowly avoided tripping over her. She barely noticed his struggle behind her as she focused on trying to convince her own mouth to close before...
"Whoa Doc, what's the occasion?" Graham asked as the Doctor spun around from the console to greet them. She blushed slightly as she caught sight of Yaz gaping.
"Hot date? Job interview?" Graham continued, oblivious to the tense breath Yaz drew in at his first suggestion.
"Court date?" Ryan suggested after regaining his balance and eyeing the Doctor's outfit himself. She'd forgone her flowing jacket for once and a fitted white button up and a dark blue power suit replaced her rainbow t-shirt and yellow suspenders.
"Court date?!" the Doctor scoffed. "Why would I have a court date?"
"I'm sure that at least some of the things we've done have been illegal," Ryan shrugged. "Right, mind you. But not necessarily legal."
"Nothing we've done on 21st century Earth has broken any British laws," Yaz insisted, regaining her composure slightly and crossing her arms. "Well... within reason."
The Doctor gave her favourite police officer an apologetic smile.
"Speaking of 21st century Earth, I'm sorry fam, but I'm gonna have to drop you all back in Sheffield for a bit. Got a call from the White House about some very worrying alien activity in 2023. There's just too much risk of creating a paradox, popping into your near future like that."
"So let me get this straight," Graham raised his eyebrows. "You took us to meet the emperor of three entire galaxies in your t-shirt and trousers, but you get all done up to visit the White House?"
"Well, I haven't met this President before and she's a bit of a fashion icon. Several of my past selves really liked suiting up, so I thought it was a good excuse to give it a spin and try to make a good impression."
"Wait, she?" Yaz grabbed the Doctor's hand in excitement. She didn't notice the way the Doctor swallowed as she looked down at their joined hands. "The President's a woman?! "
"I really shouldn't have told you that," the Doctor said, scrunching her nose. "It really is best you don't have spoilers about your immediate futures, forget I mentioned it. Now, who's excited about a quick trip home?" The Doctor began punching buttons on the console with her free hand.
"What happened to that hotel bloke then?" Ryan asked.
"Yeah, I thought Robertson was leading all the polls, last time I read the papers," Graham added.
"Well..." the Doctor looked down, realising she was still holding Yaz's hand. She gave it a small squeeze before looking up with a glint in her eye. "Someone hacked into his records and leaked the details of all his shady business deals, the taxes he never paid, the emails he'd sent detailing exactly what he thinks about people who aren't billionaires and several people who are, the laws he'd broken, the time he ate pear on a pizza, which is truly unforgivable..."
"Someone, eh?" Graham asked. "They didn't catch whoever did it?"
"Nope, whoever did it was very clever. Didn't leave even a hint of a trace."
"Probably the Russians," Ryan shrugged. "They're supposed to have dozens of brilliant hackers."
"Please," the Doctor scoffed. "the Russians wish they could pull off a hack half as clean as..."
The Doctor cleared her throat and looked up to find three sets of raised eyebrows staring back at her. She dropped Yaz's hand to turn back to the control panel.
"Right, so, it was a Saturday when we last left Sheffield, yeah? Should I drop you back same day?"
"No way. There's alien activity serious enough for the President of the United States to call you and you think we're going to putter around Sheffield and leave you to sort it out on your own?" Ryan shook his head. "Not gonna happen."
"He's right, Doc." Graham added. "Flat team structure, remember? We work together. Especially when our immediate future is at stake."
"Besides, it can't be that hard to avoid a paradox," Yaz joined in on the argument. "We just have to remember not to take any holidays to America in the next couple years without checking the calendar carefully, right?"
The Doctor shook her head. "It's not that simple, Yaz. This could be high profile. What if you're supposed to be at work one day and your boss sees you at the White House, live on BBC News? We can't risk drawing that kind of attention to you."
"C'mon, there must be some way we could disguise ourselves. I swore I saw a wig somewhere around here once." Ryan grinned.
"Brilliant! Ten points for Ryan! We could use a perception filter. It'll mask your true identity to anyone who doesn't know you're using it."
Ryan fist pumped. "So we're going to the White House then?"
"Right into the Oval Office."
"We'd better get dressed for the occasion too, then. C'mon son, we can wear those suits we wore to the Sinatra concert," Graham said as he and Ryan quickly set out to change.
Yaz watched them go and then stepped closer to the Doctor.
"Untraceable hack, eh? Could that be because no one on 21st century Earth knows how to trace artron energy?" she asked, nudging the Doctor's shoulder.
"You don't get to be President if you fire Yaz's mum. I don't make the rules. Well..." The Doctor couldn't hide her proud smirk. "I do make the rules sometimes, don't I?"
Yaz's own smile grew wide as she shook her head. "I thought no interfering was one of your rules?"
"Oh c'mon Yaz, you know I hate when you quote my own rules back to me."
Yaz couldn't help but laugh as the Doctor put on an exaggerated pout.
"Well, I suppose I should get changed too, then."
"Don't bother. The perception filter disguises your clothes. The boys ran off before I could explain that bit. Though you should always wear clothes, anyway, just in case the filters fail. Learnt that one the hard way."
Yaz blushed a bit at the thought and decided not to ask for further details on that story.
"So once the perception filters are on, I won't be able to see your suit?" she asked.
"We'll all be able to see each other exactly as we are now. Anyone who doesn't know about the filter will see a projection that fits whatever they would expect us to look like in the given circumstances. Besides, I'm not going to use one myself." The Doctor turned to Yaz and cocked her head. "Why do you ask?"
"Just... you look great in that suit." Yaz hadn't intended to be quite so honest, but the words came out on their own and she was surprised to notice a faint blush on the Doctor's cheeks as their eyes met.
"Thanks, Yaz," she said, softly before turning back to the console, distracting herself with rifling through a drawer Yaz had never noticed. "Not that it'll matter later anyway," she mumbled, though not as quietly as she'd thought.
"What was that?" Yaz asked, putting a hand on the Doctor's shoulder to draw her attention away from the gadgets she was pulling out.
"Nothing, sorry," the Doctor answered without quite meeting her eyes. "It's just, the thing about being in the same room as the President of the United States is no one but security is ever really looking at you anyway." The admission was as close as the Doctor would let herself come to admitting who she was really trying to impress by suiting up to run off and save the Earth.
Yaz let out a laugh, pushing the Doctor playfully with the hand she'd left on her shoulder. "C'mon Doctor. When have you ever not been the centre of attention?"
"Oi!" the Doctor protested. "It's not like I try to draw attention. It's just kind of, unavoidable."
"You love it." The words were teasing but the look Yaz gave the Doctor was one of pure adoration. The type of look the Doctor never really felt she deserved and usually tried to extinguish. But as she lost herself staring into the depths of Yaz's dark eyes, she could only muster an honest response.
"Yeah... I really do," she replied with a grin that stretched from ear to ear as Yaz laughed and shook her head.
As her laughter subsided, Yaz stared down at her scuffed supermarket shoes. "Still, I'll feel a bit odd I suppose," she said, "standing around in jeans and trainers while everyone else is dressed up."
"It really won't matter. You're always better off dressing comfortable rather than looking fancy," the Doctor replied with a wave of her hand as she turned back to finish arranging the perception filters.
Yaz did her best to hide her feelings. She'd gotten pretty good at keeping her emotions under control on the job. But she couldn't keep the disappointment from causing her shoulders to sag just a bit as she cast her gaze back down to her shoes. Which only made her feel childish as she leaned against the console and chastised herself. Of course the Doctor won't care what you're wearing. Not when she has a world to save. And not when she's busy showing off for the President.
The Doctor wasn't quite sure how her words had caused her companion's reaction. She'd only meant to reassure her. But she always hated to see Yasmin Khan's features knitted into a frown. Normally she'd make a joke about at her own expense or find something beautiful to explain or launch into a wild story from her past to try to bring a smile back to her friend's face. But as she turned and leaned against the console beside her, the Doctor couldn't help thinking back to the smile on Yaz's face just moments ago, the way her eyes shone as bright as any star, the spark the Doctor always tried to ignore when she held her hand. Entranced by the memories, she couldn't resist being uncharacteristically honest.
"Besides," the Doctor began as she reached out and intertwined their fingers, letting herself pause to enjoy the energy dancing between them. "You look better in jeans and a sweater than anyone else does in a suit."
Yaz's breath caught as the Doctor's words sank in. The Doctor had called her brilliant and awarded her points and stars more times than she could count. But she wasn't used to such direct compliments on her looks from anyone, certainly not from the woman beside her.
"You sounded like you really meant that." Yaz regretted her reply as soon as the words had passed her lips. The Doctor squeezed her hand. She'd done her best to avoid this situation. Maintaining old habits of ignoring her feelings and keeping everyone at a safe distance. But her instinct for self-preservation must have lost some of its force in this regeneration. The desire to make Yaz understand felt far more urgent than the need to protect herself.
"Of course I did." The Doctor had turned her head and spoken so gently, it felt as though the words had been whispered in Yaz's ear sending a shiver down her spine. So much for hiding my feelings.
"Yasmin Khan," the Doctor continued just above a whisper, "you looked beautiful the night I met you, in that bulky yellow police vest. You look beautiful in your leather jacket. You looked beautiful with that yellow flower tucked behind your ear at Umbreen's wedding. You look beautiful now. You must see the common denominator. It's not a suit."
Yaz couldn't quite believe the words she was hearing. At least, not coming from the woman speaking them. The maths reference was the only part she would have ever expected to hear coming from the Doctor. She turned her head to make sure it was really still the Doctor stood beside her. The look in the green eyes that met hers would have knocked her off her feet if she wasn't leaning against the console. She couldn't bring herself to do anything but stare and squeeze a bit tighter on the hand that was still locked in her own.
"Doc! Will you tell my grandson that he needs to have some self respect and put a tie on if he's going to go to the White House."
"Americans are more laid back, Graham. Besides, after their last President, who are they to judge me for not wearing a tie?"
The two men were completely unaware of the tension they'd cut through like a bickering chain saw and by the time they'd turned to look at the Time Lord to receive her verdict on the situation, Yaz had dropped her hand and turned to stare at the control panel as she tried desperately to even out her breathing.
"A tie is... um... well..." the Doctor struggled to form a coherent thought of her own, distracted by the weight of her own recent admission and experiencing whiplash from the sudden change in topic. She paused and looked at her hand where she still felt the ghost of Yaz's fingers linked with her own.
"You alright, Doc?" Graham looked concerned, but the question caused something to click in the Doctor's mind. How many times had she lied in response to that question? It was like riding a bike.
"Never better, Graham! Just got lost in my thoughts there for a second. Do you have any idea how many thoughts my brain can process in one second?"
Lying and boasting, now this was familiar territory. She smiled at the boys and clapped her hands together in exaggerated enthusiasm at sorting out their dilemma.
"Right, ties. Graham's correct: ties are generally expected at the White House. I prefer bow ties myself. But, you can skip it this time, no one will see anyway, with the perception filter and all."
"Wait, you said it will disguise our identity. It disguises our clothes too?"
"Yep. If I had a fancier model we could change the settings to make sure it projects a bow tie. I could upgrade them myself if we had time..."
"I can't believe I'm wearing a suit for no reason," Ryan complained before noticing Yaz stood to the side in her jeans and sweater. "And I can't believe you told Yaz and not us."
"Yaz asked! You ran off before I could tell you. Gold star to Yaz for..."
Yaz had finally felt the burning in her cheeks subside enough to risk turning to join the conversation with her friends and her eyes immediately met those of the Doctor, who couldn't help pausing to smile softly.
"For being my favourite," she finished with a shrug.
"I knew it! She always gets more points."
"Ten points deducted from Ryan for complaining. Now, are you going to go on about it or shall we go save America?" the Doctor asked, placing her hand on the lever ready to send the TARDIS into flight.
Yaz walked over and placed her hand on top of the Doctor's, ready to launch them into their next adventure together. For once, she didn't attempt to hide her response to the Doctor's touch, to ignore it and look away. She could feel that something had shifted between them, but sorting it out would have to wait. Someone needed their help and that was one thing that neither woman would ever refuse.
"Fine, let's go save America then," Ryan threw his hands up. "Do you ever get tired of saving the world?"
The Doctor didn't turn her gaze from Yaz to answer him. "It's always worth it, in the end."