#and soft thasmin

[skaifayaheda]

Anyway so I’m low-key obsessed with this because I like to think that that’s indeed The Doctor pushing back agains his hijacking

[lostcosmos]

I drew this for Valentine's but couldn't finish on time so!!

[queerestqueertoeverqueer]

i-

[nightmanatee]

the end of time part 2 vs the power of the doctor

[cosmicallyavg]

thasmin is so real to me because it really is a perfect representation of that friendship every wlw had growing up where neither of you know how to process your romantic feelings for your best friend so it turns into something sort of toxic with a lot of homoerotic tension in the way you treated each other, but you also have lots of small sweet moments where its obvious that you do genuinely care for each other but it's never enough for either of you to do anything about it so everyone just suffers and i love that so much

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

laura heard "when is a monster not a monster? oh when you love it" and took that a little too literally

[ssaalexblake]

and that's not even going into the side eye i do when you make a complicated and messy -yet ultimately loving and caring relationship between Yaz and 13- some kind of sanitised for mass consumption soft unproblematic courtship that's Sweet and Adorable, because hoooolllllyyyyy shit there's so much to unpack there and literally none of it is good

[micahdotgov]

when i first watched thirteen’s era i didn’t care that much about thasmin but during my rewatch i’ve become fully on board now that i see that they’re not uwu space gays like many say that they are but instead codependent toxic yuri which i will always be an enjoyer of

[regenderate-fic]

The Love We Hold

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler/Yasmin Khan Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Rose Tyler/Yasmin Khan Rating: General Series: Maybe It’ll Be Okay Word Count: 2,659 Other Tags: Fluff, Developing Relationship, Polyamory, Domestic, Canon Divergence, Soft Read on AO3

Summary: In which Yaz wakes up with the Doctor's arm around her, the Doctor demonstrates just how much toast she can shove in her mouth at a time, and Rose and Yaz continue to prod the Doctor into tough conversations.

DWC Summer Exchange treat for chaoticalienb.

NOTES: sequel to my valentine's day fic and exchange treat for ruby <3 hiii ruby <3 i cheated a little bit because i started writing this ages ago but i remembered you liked the valentine's fic and your thing for the exchange said polyamory and domestic stuff so. i finished it so i could gift it to you! consider it further recompense for the gaby.

anyway if you are not ruby and you don't feel like reading the first fic in the series it's like like. a post-canon rose is on the tardis, she and yaz prodded thirteen into telling them about the timeless child thing, they then forced thirteen to go to sleep and thirteen asked them to stay with her. so. that's the context. also i switched from present to past tense here for literally no reason at all everyone please deal with it.

Yaz woke up slowly, feeling inexplicably comfortable. As she drifted towards wakefulness, she became vaguely aware of an arm around her waist, and then a body pressed against hers. 

Oh, right. She’d fallen asleep in the Doctor’s bed. And, if she remembered right— she opened her eyes. The Doctor’s head was tucked under Yaz’s chin, seemingly with no regard for, say, her need to breathe. And Rose’s head was buried in the Doctor’s hair, her arms wrapped fully around the Doctor. Both Rose and the Doctor appeared to be asleep— the latter softly snoring— and Yaz let her eyes slip back closed too, a smile spreading across her face. She still hadn’t fully thought through how she felt about the Doctor, or about Rose, for that matter, but for now, she was happy to lie quietly in bed, enjoying the warmth and the comfort.

It wasn’t long before she felt movement. She opened her eyes to see Rose looking up, moving her head away from the Doctor’s. Their eyes met. 

“Good morning,” Rose said, her voice just above a whisper. 

“Morning,” Yaz replied, still smiling. 

Rose smiled back. “I forgot how much I missed this.”

“I didn’t know how much I wanted it,” Yaz said, the morning’s safety lulling her into honesty. She glanced down at top of the Doctor’s head, which showed no signs of movement. “Surprised she let me in here.”

Rose grinned, her tongue between her teeth. With her head still on the pillow, her hand idly tracing the Doctor’s side, she gave off an impression of tremendous ease. “Told you she liked you.” 

Yaz smiled again, burying it a little in the Doctor’s hair. The Doctor’s arms were still wrapped around her, warm and just the right kind of heavy.

“When do you think she’ll wake up?” Rose asked. She tucked a piece of the Doctor’s hair behind her ear, her hand lingering on the Doctor’s cheek. “Suppose she needed the sleep.”

“She’s out cold,” Yaz murmured. “She’s impossible to wake up when she’s like this. I’m always finding her in the library or her workshop.”

Rose hesitated for a moment, hovering just above the Doctor. “I guess I’ll go put on the kettle,” she said. She nodded at where the Doctor’s arm was clamped around Yaz’s waist. “Seeing as you can’t exactly go anywhere.”

Yaz laughed. “Suppose I can’t.”

“Right. Be back in ten.” And Rose extricated herself from the bed and stepped across the room. Yaz heard her trying to navigate the messy floor, and then there was the sound of the door sliding open and then back shut. 

And then Yaz was faced with the fact that she was now alone with a sleeping Doctor, engaged in a fierce cuddle. She had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined that this would happen. She was thrilled that it had, of course, but she was coming to the horrible realization that she had absolutely no idea what to do with herself.

She readjusted her position, careful not to jostle the Doctor too much, and experimentally, she stroked the Doctor’s hair. That felt right, under the circumstances. So she closed her eyes, letting her hand run through the Doctor’s unprecedentedly soft hair. 

She must have drifted off, because she woke up again when the door to the room opened. She craned her neck, looking around to see Rose coming in holding a tray with three mugs and a plate of toast and jam. Rose got a few steps in before she stopped. 

“Where do I put this down?” she hissed at Yaz. 

“I don’t know.” Yaz cast her gaze around the room, looking for an empty surface. There was none, of course. “Maybe clear off the desk a bit?” 

Rose did just that, pushing papers and trinkets aside with one hand to put down the tray. Carefully, she took the mugs and brought them to the bed, leaving two on the nightstand next to Yaz and one on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. And then she sat on the other side of the Doctor, picking up her tea with one hand and running her other hand over the Doctor’s shoulder.

This, somehow, is what caused the Doctor to stir. She moved just a little, and Yaz pulled her head back to see the Doctor’s eyes fluttering open. 

“You’re still here?” the Doctor asked, her words slurred with sleep. 

“Yeah,” Yaz said. “Is that— I mean, is that all right? We can go.” She glanced worriedly at Rose, who gave her a reassuring smile. 

The Doctor’s hold on Yaz tightened. “Don’t go.”

“Okay.” Yaz kept herself very still, unsure of what would happen next. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the Doctor to freeze up and become distant again. 

Fortunately, Rose jumped in. “We’re not going anywhere, Doctor. D’you want some tea?”

“Oh, love tea.” The Doctor flailed, trying to push herself into a sitting position without disturbing Yaz or Rose on either side of her. Yaz leaned away, giving the Doctor room to sit, before sitting up herself and passing one of the mugs to the Doctor and picking up the other for herself. She took a sip— it was steaming black tea with a little milk, just the way Yaz liked it. 

“Thanks for staying with me,” the Doctor said into her tea, the words all pushed together. “Wasn’t sure you would want to be with me anymore, if you knew all that.”

Rose and Yaz both looked at the Doctor with indignation, their expressions nearly identical.

“Why would you think that?” Rose asked. 

The Doctor shrugged. Yaz felt it against her own shoulder. 

“Dunno.” The Doctor took a deep breath. “Suppose I just thought, if I don’t even know who I am, how can I expect anyone else to want me? Except I wasn’t going to know who I was whether or not I told you, so there’s not much point, really.” 

“Doctor,” Yaz said. “I don’t care where you came from.” She hesitated, reconsidering. “I mean, obviously I care about what you went through, but knowing who you used to be doesn’t change the fact that I know who you are now. You’re kind. You’re caring. You’re always trying to make things right, and yeah, sometimes you do unhealthy or hurtful things— but I still love being with you. None of that has changed.” She paused. “And now you’ve told me what you were after, I understand a lot better why you didn’t say anything before. All right?” 

The Doctor nodded. “I really am sorry,” she said. “For dragging you all those places. It wasn’t fair.”

“It wasn’t,” Yaz agreed. “But it’s not— I’m still not going to leave you.” She bumped her shoulder into the Doctor’s, reveling in even that small touch. “Just don’t do it again, yeah?”

The Doctor nodded again. 

“And I’ve said it from the start,” Rose added. “I’m never leaving you, Doctor.”

“I didn’t know—” The Doctor was mumbling now, her face almost completely hidden by her mug. “It’s been so long for me. I’m so different now.”

“I still love you,” Rose said. Yaz envied how easily the words fell from her lips. “All of you. No matter what you look like.”

The Doctor leaned her head on Rose’s shoulder. “I don’t always feel very lovable.”

“Good thing it’s not your decision to make, then,” Rose teased. 

“Suppose so.” The Doctor lifted her head. “I just worry, traveling with people. I don’t want you to get hurt. Everyone I love gets hurt.” 

“We chose this,” Yaz reminded her, skating swiftly past the implications of the word “love.” “I could’ve made you bring me home anytime. I could’ve left when Ryan and Graham did.” She glanced at Rose. “And Rose chose this years and years before I did. It’s not your fault if we get hurt.”

The Doctor let her head flop onto Yaz’s shoulder now, her face turned just a little bit against Yaz’s shirt. “Maybe not.” 

Yaz let her head rest against the Doctor’s, just a little bit. And then, feeling bold, she took the Doctor’s free hand, entwining their fingers.

“We’re here for you, Doctor,” she said softly. “You don’t have to go through everything alone.”

She felt the Doctor nod into her shoulder. 

“And now we’ve covered that,” Yaz added, “Rose brought toast. Do you want toast?”

The Doctor’s head shot up. “Oh, with jam?”

Yaz nodded. She squeezed the Doctor’s hand before letting go, crawling to the foot of the bed before picking her way across the floor to the desk. She hesitated, then picked up the whole tray, awkwardly maneuvering across the blankets as she brought it back to rest on the Doctor’s lap.

“Marmalade,” the Doctor enthused, picking up a slice of the toast and using a spoon to drop globs of jam onto it. “You’ve got good taste, Rose Tyler.”

“I know.” Rose let her head fall on the Doctor’s shoulder, her smile evident in her voice. “‘S why you like me.”

“I like you for loads of reasons,” the Doctor replied. “But your taste in jam is definitely on the list.”

Yaz settled back next to the Doctor, reaching for a slice of toast. She gave it a thin coating of marmalade— she didn’t have quite as much of a sweet tooth as the Doctor, who had wasted no time in shoving half her toast into her mouth at once.

“I’m amazed you don’t choke,” she said.

“Special biology,” the Doctor managed to say around the mouthful of toast. She swallowed dramatically. “My throat is twice as elastic as the average human’s.”

Yaz and Rose exchanged a look.

“If you say so,” Yaz said. 

The Doctor crammed the other half of her toast into her mouth. Yaz couldn’t help but laugh at the image of her with her cheeks puffed out, her hair still messy from sleep. She swallowed again, then said, “D’you know, I think having a good sleep really helped me. Haven’t had a sleep that nice since— d’you remember Ryan’s nan’s sofa?”

“Doctor,” Yaz said. “Are you trying to tell me you haven’t slept since we met?”

“I’ve slept plenty,” the Doctor corrected. “I mean, it was a little touch and go. There was that time on Tsuranga— remember?”

Yaz raised an eyebrow. “You were knocked out.”

“And then when I was in prison,” the Doctor added. “Wasn’t much to do in there but sleep. But the sleep itself was awful. Never felt like I’d rested when I woke up. ‘Course, that might’ve been because Angela was flailing all night. She was a bit nocturnal. Couldn’t exactly move during the day, see, with all the eyes on her. Not all of us got a private cell.” She stopped. “I’m rambling again. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Not our job to make sure you stay on topic,” Rose teased. 

“I like your rambles,” Yaz added. “When you’re not trying to avoid talking about other stuff, anyway.”

“When have I ever been avoiding?” the Doctor asked, her face adorably scrunched.

Yaz and Rose both gave her a look.

“Yeah, all right,” she mumbled. She picked up another slice of toast, dropping marmalade onto it and folding it over on itself before shoving the whole thing into her mouth. Yaz took a much smaller bite of her own toast, chewing slowly, enjoying the relative calmness of the morning. Not that any time spent with the Doctor could typically be called calm , but— Yaz felt calm, somewhere deep inside, in a way she wasn’t sure she ever had before. 

She glanced at the Doctor, who was now leaning back against the headboard, still chewing. Rose had leaned back too, and the Doctor’s arm was around her shoulder. Emboldened, Yaz inched closer, and the Doctor’s free arm snaked around her waist. 

“That hand had better not be sticky,” Yaz said, eyeing the open jam jar. 

“Can't make any promises,” the Doctor chirped.

Yaz laughed. She made no move to reposition herself— if the Doctor got jam on her shirt, well, maybe that was just the price Yaz paid for falling for a three-thousand-year-old child, because she wasn’t sure there was anything that could convince her to jeopardize the tenuous reality of the Doctor’s arm around her. After three years of the Doctor barely touching her, grabbing her hand only to pull her out of danger, all the touch of the last twelve hours or so still felt surreal. Yaz still was half-convinced that the second she left this room, the Doctor would act like none of this had ever happened— so she nestled closer while she could, resting against the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“What are we going to do today?” Rose asked idly. She was fiddling with the Doctor’s hand, which was draped over her shoulder. 

“I hadn’t thought about it,” the Doctor said. “Suppose I probably ought to take a break from the Division thing, yeah? Could have a nice beach day.”

“Oh, I love a good beach,” Rose said.”Been needing an excuse to wear that swimsuit I got on New Venus.” 

“Yeah?” The Doctor’s head shifted to look at Yaz— she was inches from Yaz’s face now. “Yaz? Beach?” 

“I could do a beach,” Yaz decided. 

“Brilliant,” the Doctor said. She scrambled like she was about to get up, and Rose lunged to pick up the tray before the Doctor lifted her legs and knocked it over. Yaz slipped off the bed, giving the Doctor room to slide off after her, and the Doctor jumped to her feet. “Beach day with Yaz and Rose. Amazing!” She frowned. “Although I suppose I should at least change my shirt first, shouldn’t I?”

“Let’s meet in the console room?” Rose asked.

“Yes! Brilliant!” The Doctor whirled around and pointed at Rose. “Ten points to Rose.”

Yaz gathered the Doctor’s mug and hers. “I think sleeping’s made you even more hyperactive, Doctor.”

“I didn’t know I could even have this much energy,” the Doctor said. “Honestly, it’s brilliant. Highly recommend.”

Rose laughed. “Pretty sure the average human can’t sustain it.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Your loss, really.” 

“Yeah, all right,” Yaz said, smiling. “I’m going to get these mugs to the kitchen. See you in the console room?”

“Can’t wait,” the Doctor said, her tone completely serious.

Yaz stepped out of the room, still smiling to herself. Rose came after, holding the tray, and they started off towards the kitchen together. 

“So, I’d say that went all right, then,” Rose said.

“I’ve never seen her like that,” Yaz replied. “I mean— she seems lighter.”

Rose bumped her elbow against Yaz. “You doing all right?”

“Yeah,” Yaz said, her smile growing. She took a deep breath. “I mean— it’s a lot, I guess. But— I’m glad it happened the way it did.”

“Yeah,” Rose said. “Me too.”

They were at the kitchen now, and Yaz set the mugs down in the sink as Rose let the tray rest on the counter. They filled the dishwasher together, and then they shared a smile, Yaz’s excitement reflected in Rose’s eyes.

“See you in the console room?” Rose asked.

“Be right there,” Yaz said. 

She walked back to her room and closed the door behind her, still only half-believing everything that had happened. But when she found a swimsuit, changed her clothes, and walked to the console room, she found the Doctor and Rose there, talking to each other, and the second the Doctor heard Yaz come in she let go of Rose’s hand to launch herself at her. 

Yaz grinned into the hug. Maybe it was real, then, and maybe it would continue to be real, too. At least, as the TARDIS began its wheezing, her and the Doctor and Rose all grinning at each other, Yaz couldn’t help but let the elated feeling in her stomach take over. 

Today was going to be a good day. 

[not-mandip]

Some soft nsfw thasmin doodles from a couple years ago. I haven't had much time to draw for the past year as I'm working two jobs, and I'm pulling doubles most days (✨slay✨)

[thegirlwiththeblush]

Soft and As Pure As Snow

Thirteenth Doctor x Yasmin Khan

Word Count: 2.9k (insane)

Fandom: Doctor Who

Song Inspiration: Would That I by Hozier

Summary: The Doctor and Yaz travel to the final Frost Fair of 1814, with a couple of inconvenient tag-alongs.

a/n: Apologies to all for the desperate attempt at fluff, but I hope you enjoyed it, and that all of the Thasmin shippers get some well-deserved recognition here. Now I go back to hibernating and not writing for another six months. Special thanks to my dear friend Heidi for proofreading this within twelve hours of completion (the dedication!), and to @vorsdany, my best friend and writing inspiration, for encouraging me and providing prompts for me to write this.

It wasn’t often that the Doctor had time off from saving the universe throughout time and space, and she was going to make the most of it. Whether she’d admit it to herself (or to anyone) or not, her first thought was to take Yaz on a trip somewhere special, somewhere she reserved only for very important companions. The problem, however, was not convincing Yaz to come along, but to make sure it was only Yaz.

“What, do we only get to come along when we’re doing your dirty work?” Graham folded his arms in a dramatic display of indignance. “That ain’t fair, how come only Yaz gets to come along?”

“Maybe the Doctor’s just in the mood for a girls’ trip,” Yaz suggested, and the Doctor smiled at this upstanding gesture.

“Well, isn’t that sexist,” Ryan chuckled. The Doctor knew he was only kidding, but she was growing more frustrated by the second.

The four of them were seated around Yaz’s family flat, with Yaz’s family away for the week. The Doctor couldn’t have been more pleased with how everything was lining up, but Ryan and Graham were about to ruin everything.

“Listen, fam-”

“I thought I told you I wasn’t too fond of that term?” Graham grunted, instigating an eyeroll and small smile from Yaz.

The Doctor gave a small sigh of exasperation. “I love all of you equally, but I don’t think you’d be keen on this particular spot I’m taking Yaz to. It’s just not that...interesting.”

“Well, what is it then?” Ryan asked.

“Just the Frost Fair of 1814.” She glanced around the room as she half-mumbled the words, trying to come off as nonchalant as possible.

“Yo, does that mean ice skating?!” Ryan sat bolt upright, a grin spreading across his face. “Not that interesting. What are you on, mate?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be difficult with your dyspraxia?” She wasn’t one to practice ableism, but her desperation had her grasping at straws.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t give it a shot,” Ryan protested, standing up from his seat. “I’ve been learning to ride my bike, haven’t I? I’ve climbed huge ladders, I’ve faced robots and aliens, for crying out loud. I can at least have a go.”

The Doctor was bewildered. This was a burst of self-confidence from Ryan at a time that most inconvenienced her.

“Yeah, and don’t count me in as uninterested,” Graham joined in. “They’ve gotta have some bloody good shish chicken there, and I’d be keen to have a taste of 1814 gin. Not to mention, weren’t there sword swallowers there? I wanna figure out how they do it.”

The Doctor blinked, and Yaz voiced her exact thoughts. “Suddenly you know everything about the 1814 Frost Fair?”

Graham shrugged. “Well, you gotta do your research when you’re travelling with the Doctor.”

The Doctor couldn’t believe it. It was already impossible to have any alone time with Yaz on their journeys, but now, even in their free time, she couldn’t have one day to explore the feelings that had been growing in her chest with every passing moment.

Throwing up her hands in resignation, she raised her eyebrows and smiled tightly at the boys. “Fine, we’ll all go then.”

The two of them whooped and high-fived, and Yaz smiled knowingly at the Doctor; although, the Doctor didn’t think Yaz could possibly have understood her intentions. She wasn’t even exactly sure of her own feelings, and she certainly didn’t expect the young officer to reciprocate them.

The four clambered eagerly into the TARDIS, the Doctor dawdling behind with a slouch and a pout. She noticed Yaz watching her out of the corner of her eye but thought nothing of it as she made her way to the control console. Forcing herself to regain her focus, she began inputting coordinates, biting her lip lightly in concentration, and, in part, to force down her vexation.

“Oi, Graham,” Ryan said, a small smile playing across his lips. “What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?”

“What?”

“Frostbite.”

“That was a crime,” Graham groaned.

“That was pretty bad,” Yaz agreed.

“No, I’ll tell you a real good one,” Graham continued and Yaz sighed. “I thought it was going to be frosty, so I plugged my electric blanket in beside my toaster. I kept popping out of bed all night!”

“Not the time for jokes, fam.” the Doctor interrupted before the boys could continue their tirade. “Everyone hold on to something, I’m having to reason strongly with the TARDIS right now, and I can’t predict how she’ll react.”

“What’re you reasoning with it for?” Ryan asked, grabbing onto the nearest time rotor crystal, unsure of what exactly there was to hold on to.

“I’ll explain later,” the Doctor replied hastily, still irked by his and Graham’s presence, and her concentration fixated on preparing the TARDIS.

The TARDIS began its all-too-familiar whirring and vworping, and the Doctor allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Humans may be difficult and inconvenient, but at least the TARDIS was constant and, while not always predictable, predictable in its unpredictability. She ran her hands over the console, soaking in its mechanical warmth and finding grips as the ship began to take off. She grinned in relief as she sensed the vortex energy giving in, and widened her stance in preparation.

After a short, bumpy flight, the four of them released their holds, and the companions turned to the Doctor for guidance.

“Doctor,” Yaz murmured, approaching the blonde with her hands folded. “This is 1814, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

“What are we gonna do about, um...” Yaz trailed off, unsure of how to address the subject, but instead gesturing to her face in a circling motion, and then Ryan’s.

The Doctor bit her lip in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry, I’d thought of that, this ain’t my first rodeo with the terrible man-made creation of racism. Unfortunately, I can’t do much to protect you two, but I’ve got a closet full of clothes to dress you up, and you’ve got me to protect you every step of the way.”

“And me,” Graham butted in, puffing his chest proudly. “I’ll protect you with my life.”

“No offense, Graham, but I feel much safer with the Doctor,” Ryan replied, earning an indignant pout from his grandfather.

“If you want to find the wardrobe, just head down that corridor,” the Doctor continued. “It’s the first door on the left, then the second right, duck under the stairs, go past the bins, and it’s through the fifth door on the left.”

Ryan blinked, Graham raised an eyebrow, and Yaz bit her lip to hold in a chuckle. The Doctor sighed in amusement and waved a hand towards herself. “I’ll just show you the way, eh?”

Once the four of them had decked themselves out in 19th-century-style clothing, they returned to the control room, Graham visibly uncomfortable in his tight waistcoat and tailcoat.

“Glad we evolved from this uptight garb,” he mumbled grumpily as the Doctor opened the TARDIS door, allowing a blast of cold air to rush into the room, blowing Ryan’s top hat off. The four of them stumbled back a little, before peeking out into a world of white. Snowflakes drifted lazily around them as figures, young and old, wandered up and down the frozen River Thames, barely any unsmiling faces to be seen.

“Doctor, this is beautiful,” Yaz murmured, taking in the view, her mouth slightly agape. Despite having seen countless regions of space and lands she’d never anticipated seeing in her lifetime, this winter wonderland was still enough to leave her almost speechless.

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile to see her eyes so full of fascination, but after allowing herself only a moment of adoration, she dragged herself back into the present. “If I’ve calculated the coordinates correctly, we can’t possibly collide with one of my previous incarnations,” she said. “Ten points if you counted how many c words I said in that sentence.”

Ryan choked on a short laugh, but Yaz raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been here before, Doctor?”

“Oh, yes, few times,” the Time Lord replied. “I took another companion, Mai, ice skating, three generations back; came here twice with two different friends in my last one; I even came here when I first ever started traveling; and finally, I took my, er, dear friend River here to hear Stevie Wonder sing under London Bridge.” She wasn’t quite ready to explain the nature of her relationship with River, especially not to Yaz. Not that she fully understood or acknowledged why it was so tricky to tell Yaz.

Yaz’s eyebrows shot up even farther. “So, this is quite a special place for you, Doc?” Graham said.

The Doctor kicked around at something at her feet, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Yaz opened her mouth to say something, but Ryan interjected with, “Well, what are we all standing around for, come on now, let’s check it out!”

They headed out, the Doctor locking up the TARDIS, and the cold air swelled in their nostrils, their throats and their lungs. Wrapping herself up tighter in her coat, Yaz turned slowly as they walked toward the stalls, taking everything in.

Dim rays of sunlight glimpsed through the thick cloud coverage, and Union Jacks were draped from makeshift pubs and food stalls, some of them adorned with the red ensign, presumably to represent the boatmen who could no longer travel down the river.

Children chased each other across the ice, dodging and diving between traders and their customers. Small fires were lit near food tents, meat roasting on spits across them, the smell wafting through the chill and tantalizing her senses. The subtle scent of brandy mixed with it, as well as bitter hints of tobacco, but Yaz breathed it all in, grinning as she absorbed the final Frost Fair in all its grandeur.

It warmed the Doctor’s heart to see her dearest companion so happy; she didn’t even register her own smile growing as she watched her.

“Is that my shish chicken?!” Graham cried, turning to the Doctor helplessly. “You don’t happen to have a couple quid that’d work in this century, do ya, Doc?”

The Doctor turned to him, amused, and dug around in her pocket. “I always come prepared, Graham,” she replied, pulling out a few pounds and shillings. “Who am I to deprive you of your shish chicken? Share these with Ryan, and don’t spend it all in one place!”

“You got it, Doc, much obliged!” He sauntered over to a wide-eyed Ryan, hooking an arm around his and guiding him towards an aromatic tent, his face upturned to soak in the smells.

The Doctor couldn’t believe her luck. Maybe her plan wasn’t completely spoiled after all.

“So, how was it exactly, you got Stevie Wonder to sing in 1814 on the River Thames?”

The Doctor turned to see Yaz, her hands dug in her pockets and a small smirk playing across her lips.

“Well, I can’t spare all of the details on that,” she replied, “but let’s just say he was entirely unaware of any time travel.”

Yaz chuckled. “Isn’t that a little mean?”

The Doctor pursed her lips, considering this. “In hindsight, maybe, but no harm was really done. He got to visit an exciting point in history. He’ll just never know it.”

Rolling her eyes and grinning, Yaz copied Graham’s move and hooked an arm through the Doctor’s, making both of the Time Lord’s hearts skip a beat or two. “Show me around, Doctor, since you’re clearly so familiar with the place.”

Taking the opportunity with no hesitation, the Doctor led the way towards a wooden barricade, weaving deftly through the crowd while Yaz had no problem keeping up. She looked around keenly, before emitting a relieved ‘ah!’ and dragging Yaz to a small booth, pulling out more coins from her pocket with the other hand. Handing them to a short, bespectacled man who appeared to be running the stand, she grabbed two pairs of ice skates off the counter, handing one to Yaz. “Hopefully they fit alright!”

Yaz inspected the skates, the long metal blades sharp and shining, the boots made from starchy leather, unlike any she’d find in her own time. She looked up to see the Doctor hopping from one foot to another, trying to remove her shoes and replace them with the skates without having to sit down in the snow. She chuckled at the sight, and offered her arm to steady the struggling blonde. The Doctor took it gratefully, and once she’d donned the skates, offered her own for Yaz.

Tossing their regular boots to the side, they slipped through a gap in the barricade, where snow had been shovelled away to create a rink. Children, young and old couples, and solo skaters glided around the two of them as they struggled to gain their balance.

“How likely d’you think it is that our boots will be snatched up?” Yaz queried.

The Doctor shrugged, giving her a small apologetic smile. “Probably.”

Yaz shrugged back, and the two clasped hands and began moving slowly across the ice, their skates scraping viciously as they tried to create a rhythm.

“If you let go of my hand, I’ll kill you,” Yaz said, giggling.

“You would need to be able to skate on your own to catch me.”

Yaz’s jaw dropped in amused shock as the Doctor snatched her hand back, skating away at what she probably thought was a rapid pace. The two of them laughed as they began a clumsy game of cat and mouse, wobbling and trying unsuccessfully to maintain their footing.

Eventually, the Doctor made one false move, sending her foot flying out from beneath her, and she fell on her back with a small thud. Yaz, in a desperate attempt to stop herself from crashing into her crumpled form, felt her weight shift forward as she plummeted down. She threw her hands out just in time to catch herself, hovering mere millimetres above the Doctor’s panting form. Their eyes met, both at a loss for words as their shared body heat became overwhelming and Yaz struggled to keep herself up.

“Here, let me-” The Doctor gently pushed Yaz up from under her arms, sitting up as she did so. They shuffled themselves to the edge of the rink and sat back against the barricade, grinning shyly at each other, hoping the other skaters wouldn’t be inconvenienced by their respite.

“So, waddya think?” the Doctor asked, kicking at the ice timidly.

Yaz smiled. “No Stevie Wonder in sight, but this certainly is nice.”

The Doctor opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to say that Stevie Wonder was entirely unnecessary when Yaz’s presence was a delight enough for her; but there was no way to know she felt the same way. Unless-

“Doctor,” Yaz interrupted her thoughts; it was her turn now to kick nervously at the ice, her eyes drifting anywhere but towards the Time Lord’s familiar gaze. “You- you said you brought your dearest friends here, a- and you didn’t originally want Ryan and Graham coming along with us.”

The Doctor couldn’t look away from Yaz’s shivering form despite the confrontation in her tone. Something about her being so vulnerable, so comfortable with her, although nervous, made her even more beautiful in that moment. She bit her lip lightly as she shifted her weight, and Yaz finally turned and locked eyes with her.

“Is- is there something you want to talk about, Doctor?”

It was rare that the Doctor was at a loss for words, but in this moment, she had nothing but love in her hearts, and it was a difficult thing to speak into existence.

Instead, she reached a hand out to caress Yaz’s cheek, cupping it, holding her gaze, her face inching closer. She waited for her to pull away, to protest, but she didn’t; in fact, she seemed to be moving in in time with her.

“... You’re good to me, Yaz,” she murmured, before their lips met tenderly, and heat blossomed within her chest. Nothing had ever felt so long-awaited and so right, and as Yaz’s hand crept around the back of her neck, the fire inside of her blazed brighter.

Her lips were impossibly soft, and the Doctor’s hearts fluttered with every movement of their mouths, her hands near losing feeling with the bliss that overwhelmed her. It felt far too soon when they inevitably pulled away, hands lingering around each other’s necks.

The Doctor almost felt relieved to see the beaming smile on Yaz’s face, both of them slightly breathless, their eyes drifting back helplessly to the other’s lips.

“We should probably go find the others,” Yaz murmured, and the Doctor blinked, bringing herself back to earth.

“Of course, yeah,” she agreed hastily, worried that she’d somehow read it wrong. She scrambled to her feet, but Yaz pulled her back down to her level.

“We should absolutely revisit this later, though,” she whispered, “Doctor.” Pressing another chaste kiss to her lips, Yaz rose to her feet, using the Doctor’s arm as a brace before the besotted Time Lord could even process what just happened.

Much to their surprise, they found their boots exactly where they’d found them, and in no rush, they replaced their ice skates with them, eyes flitting back to each other, lips still tingling and embers still glowing in their breasts.

They returned the skates, smiling first at the bespectacled man and then at each other, as if they shared a scandalous secret. They wandered through the fair in search of their friends, the snow falling around them as they disappeared into the crowds, hand in hand.

[lostcosmos]

literally….

[13thdoctorposts]

What are your fave episodes of Thirteen's era?

This is the hardest question I’ve ever been asked.

The woman who fell to earth will always have a huge soft spot with me because it was the beginning of something that became so magical.

I think Rosa, Demons of the Punjab and Witchfinders were probably the strongest episodes of Series 11 for me. And I’m also a Kerblam fan. lol

With series 12 I loved the Doctors and Masters Arc so Spyfall and AotC/TTC but my most rewatched are probably NTNoT, Praxeus and HoVD,

I adore all of Flux and see it as a single story, but I adore 13 in WoS and Yaz in SotF the most though out that story.

I also love that we have like a Dalek trilogy with the New Year specials and often find myself returning to them.

I’m a big fan of LotSD I think it’s an enjoyable story, Dan is hilarious, the guess cast especially Madame Cheng are great. Flirty 13 is my favourite 13 and the heartfelt and heartbreak of Thasmin make it an absolute favourite.

Power of the Doctor is the best regeneration episode of NuWho (maybe all who but I haven’t seen classic who) it’s just a fun ride with Yaz at her peak and such a heart breaking conclusion.

If there was only one part of 13s era I could ever watch again it would be Flux it’s what I gravitate to most when I want to rewatch. However if you said you can only pick 3 it would be The woman who fell to earth, Eve of the Daleks and Legend of the sea devils. If it could only be 1, this is probably controversial but it would be Legend of the Sea Devils. lol

Anyway that was probably a way longer answer then you wanted or needed 😂

[thetorturedlovergirl]

Was listening to How Did It End? by taylor and couldn’t stop thinking about Thasmin while listening to it.

It’s heartbreaking. It’s a failed relationship, where the echoes of the unanswered desperate question of “How did it end?” resonate after it didn’t work out. The reflexion you do about a whole relationship that was dreamed to last but didn’t. One where everyone is hungry to know what is happening.

It remindes me of Thasmin but especially Yaz, a Yaz after POTD (it also could be a Yaz after the timeless child but it doesn’t resonates much with me tbh). A heartbroken Yaz from a relationship that she knows the other person wanted but couldn't work out due to life circumstances (dancing around each other, little communication, problems, time, regeneration) (“Our maladies were such we could not cure them // and so a touch that was my birthright became foreign” )

13 knew their time would end someday, but she still fell in love. Their love didn’t encounter the future, their love didn’t encounter an end.

I know Yaz is an incredibly strong woman, but I don't think she can handle that ending so easily. It wouldn't be as difficult as it was after TTC (where she didn’t know if The Doctor was going to come back or if she was alive) because they said goodbye, they had an end to their relationship (even if it was an end that was not wanted by both parties in the relationship), but it would still be difficult, Because a love as strong as that they had does not last so short nor is it overcome so quickly. I think she would be lost and try to stay strong, but she would fail. People notice, people talk, people watch. The first few weeks she is not well and they know it, but she is stubborn about staying strong (while still getting help from her friends).

And this one I don’t have much to say bc I feel it says a lot for itself. (The deflation of our dreaming // leaving me barefoot and reeling is KILLING me making me cry sm oh my)

And also, I know this song is about how people gossip and follow other people's lives with too much interest (interest they shouldn't have). I can't think of any character who would do this, because that's not who they are. Yes, they talk, but not with evil intentions. They speak worried. I would say that the second pic I posted could be a companion meeting where they are talking about this situation, or the part where it says “the emphatic hunger descends” could be from the point of view of a bitter Yaz. But no, no one would take advantage of this situation for their benefit.

(Also Taylor’s soft voice it’s like the intrusive thoughts you have when thinking about someone. That voice that quietly tells u what you don’t want to hear or think, but still do).

[eriadu-in-the-wildwood]

8. Whispering "Oh you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up."

For Thasmin? :)

Thanks for the prompt! :) This one ran away from me, word count-wise, but here you go:

Panic always brought out superhuman speed from the Doctor. Even wading through ankle-deep sand, sweating under the sun, she ran ahead, scouting the battlefield, searching for the TARDIS. Every time she paused at the top of a dune, her eyes fell on Yaz, limp in his arms, and the thin veneer of her composure cracked a little bit more. “I still can’t believe you let her put herself in that position!” she called down to him.

Dan halted. This was the third time she'd had a go at him as they walked, and enough was enough. There was no stopping her and you know it. You’re just upset she follows your lead so often, he wanted to say.

But damn it, there was no time to argue. Yaz needed him.

She looked almost peaceful, with her eyes closed and her face slack. It was strange to see her so still; she should have been marching at the Doctor’s shoulder, brave enough for all three of them.

A laser cannon fired and she didn’t even flinch. Nor did she move when the Doctor shouted “Dan! Keep moving!”

“But what’s wrong with her?” 

The Doctor slid down the dune and returned to his side. She laid a hand on Yaz’s forehead. “That weapon knocked her out, but there’s way too much gamma and beta wave activity going on in there for her to actually be asleep.”

Yaz’s brow folded into a crease and the Doctor smoothed it over with her fingertips. “It’s all right, Yaz, we’ll get you back to the TARDIS and figure out what’s wrong.”

Yaz stilled again and the Doctor stared at her before darting back a step, as if suddenly realizing what she was doing. Dan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Life-and-death situation or not, these two needed to get their act together already. 

The Doctor forged on through the sand and Dan followed. Yaz twitched. Her face twisted into a grimace. 

“We’ll be back to the TARDIS soon and the Doctor will take care of you,” Dan said.

Another grimace and Yaz bolted upright, knocking him off balance. They tumbled into the hot sand and Dan threw himself to the side to keep from landing on her. Burning grit trickled into his collar and shoes.

Yaz shot to her feet.

She was awake—that was good, right? But she tripped over Dan, darted to the Doctor’s side, and wrapped her fists in the Doctor’s coat.

“Yaz?” Gently, the Doctor tried to pry Yaz away, but she held fast, saying nothing, clinging to the coat.

Dan scrambled to his feet. “What’s going on?”

The Doctor touched Yaz’s forehead again. “She’s still asleep.”

“But she’s not.”

“She is, up here.” The Doctor brushed a stray lock of hair away from Yaz’s temple. “But she’s up and walking, so we can move faster.” She succeeded in pulling Yaz’s hands off and took a step away. Seeming to tear her eyes away from Yaz’s face with an effort, she turned around and began walking again. “Make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” she said over her shoulder.

Dan grabbed Yaz’s hand. She cried out and lunged for the Doctor. 

These two. If she’d been awake, Yaz would never have felt comfortable clinging to the Doctor like that. Only now, sleepwalking after being hit by an alien weapon, could her mind let her fight for the closeness she craved. If the situation wasn’t so frightening, Dan would hold that one over her later.

Yaz caught up and grabbed the Doctor’s coat again, tripping and landing on her knees at the Doctor’s side. “Please, don’t leave me again.” Dan almost didn’t hear the soft words over another boom from the laser cannons. The fighting was getting closer—they needed to hurry.

The Doctor’s shoulders hardened. She looked down at Yaz, jaw tight with emotion. 

“Oh Yaz, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up,” Dan whispered.

The Doctor whirled on him—her ears were much too sharp for his liking. “No. She’s not. Because you’re not going to tell her about this.” Her eyes were hard; it was a look that made men tougher than him crumble. The sort of look she usually reserved for dangerous aliens and intergalactic dictators. 

Taking Yaz by the arm, the Doctor hauled her up and urged her forward. They made better time after that, even with Yaz’s sleep-addled steps slowing them down. But she began to flag sooner than she normally would. She stumbled, again and again, and between one step and the next, her knees gave way. She tumbled to the sand.

Dan rushed forward. When he tried to lift her she fought; flailed; cried out as if in pain.

“I’ve got her.” Kneeling, the Doctor gathered Yaz into her arms and stood. The only sign of strain was in the narrowing of her eyes and the slower, more careful steps she took.

Dan let her take the lead. She leaned in close, whispering to Yaz, and he wasn’t trying to listen in, but the brokenness in her voice made him zero in on her words.

“I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again.” She squeezed Yaz closer and stepped over a pile of rocks. “It hasn’t always been my choice. But sometimes… it was easier to leave you behind. Because I am so, so scared. All the time. I’ve never been good at losing people. I’m afraid that means I haven’t been very good at keeping them, either.”

Over the next rise, the blue of the TARDIS’ roof melted into view against the orange sky. The sun was sinking into the horizon, and the Doctor cut a black silhouette in the burning semicircle. At the top of the dune, Yaz squirmed, legs kicking out. She whispered something Dan couldn’t make out, then stretched up and kissed the Doctor on the jaw, right under her ear. 

The Doctor froze. Yaz fell still once again.

Shoulders dropping, the Doctor threw her head back to stare into the sky. She took a deep breath. 

Then she picked up the pace, rushing to the TARDIS and through the door when it popped open for her. By the time Dan stepped inside, she was already up the stairs and diving into the TARDIS’ innards.

The medbay was the first door on the right today; the Doctor kicked it open and stepped inside. She lay Yaz on the bed and turned to a screen mounted on the wall next to it.

Dan moved to the other side of the bed and leaned to look over the Doctor's shoulder. Interlocking circles rotated on the screen, disappeared, and a new sequence, equally unintelligible, replaced them. “Well? Can the TARDIS help her?”

“Not really. But the effects are wearing off. She’s truly asleep now. When she wakes up, I’ll run some tests.” The Doctor turned to the bed, flattening her hands on the mattress next to Yaz’s arm. One shoulder tensed, like she was about to lift her hand, but she stiffened instead. 

“Are you really not going to tell her about all this, when she wakes up?”

The Doctor just looked at him. Not as dark as the look she’d aimed his way at the mention of Yaz’s embarrassment over all this, but annoyed. A warning, of a sort. 

Dan raised his hands and took a step back. She could be annoyed all she wanted; he was here for Yaz, and he was going to look out for her. “If you don’t, I will. She deserves to know, even if it makes you uncomfortable.”

The Doctor blinked. She sighed, turning back to Yaz. “I know. I will. I just—”

“You’re afraid. I get it.”

The Doctor looked at him again, and this time she just looked tired. Sad, in a way he’d never understand.

“I’ll leave you two to figure this out.” He stepped away and went to the door, then looked back one last time. “Please, figure this out. For her, if not for yourself.”

The Doctor didn’t look up. Dan shook his head, opened the door, and stepped into the empty hall. As he shut the door, he caught a glimpse of the Doctor raising Yaz’s hand to her lips and gently kissing her fingers. Rather than leaving, he leaned against the wall next to the door for a long time.

So much had just happened. So much still needed to happen, between those two. Yaz was hurting; that much was obvious. But there was nothing Dan could do about that pain. Only the Doctor could help with that.

A muffled flurry of noise slipped out from under the door. A few words were mumbled, and Dan couldn’t make them out. But then, louder, the Doctor said “Yaz, hi, you’re awake. We need to talk.”

Well. Maybe there was some hope for these two, after all.

[timetravelbypen]

22 for Thasmin 😁

Hello hello, I haven't forgotten! Here you go!

22. "Weirdly, the best sleep I’ve ever had."

            Yaz is exhausted. The Doctor’s had them on a three-day-long wild goose chase—or, wild dog chase, she supposes, although she still has no idea what the deal is with Karvanista—and as soon as they’d got back to the TARDIS, soaking wet and without any more answers than they’d started with, she’d sent them hurtling into the vortex and gone storming off without another word. Yaz had taken a very, very long shower and tried to go straight to bed, but in spite of the fact that her limbs feel like lead and she can feel the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, her brain just won’t switch off.

            The Doctor’s been snappish with her, sometimes, for a while. Since the Master. She’s used to it, even if it grates at her, even if she doesn’t understand it. But these last few days have been… different. The Doctor’s seemed… desperate, somehow.

            She’s seemed scared.

            The look in her eyes before she’d stormed off earlier was dark and hopeless in a way Yaz was all too familiar with, but had never seen on the Doctor’s face before. She can’t stop thinking about it, for all she wants to go to sleep and forget everything about the last three days. She doesn’t think she can get the Doctor to talk about it, but she does want to make sure she’s okay… or at the very least not making things worse for herself.

            Sighing, she shoves herself out of bed and pads off to the kitchen to make two cups of tea. Mint tea for herself, and black tea with an obscene amount of sugar in it for the Doctor. But when she leaves the kitchen, she can’t find her anywhere. She’s not in the console room. She’s not in either of her favorite libraries. She’s not in the game room that’s been mostly empty since Ryan left, or in one of the other kitchens, or by the swimming pool. The ship’s got nearly endless corridors all winding around each other; she could spend hours looking and still not find her, At the very least, the tea’s going to get cold.

            She sighs, wondering if she ought to just give up and check on her in the morning, when the ship sort of burbles around her. The Doctor’s been teaching her to pilot, slowly, and there’s a lot she doesn’t understand yet. But a soft, bubbly hum at the back of her mind, along with the ambient glow of the hallway brightening along one side, is clear enough: the ship knows where the Doctor is, and wants Yaz to follow.

            So she does, circling back around until she’s in the console room again. Yaz frowns; she’d already checked in here, and it was empty, wasn’t it? But then the ship brightens the light around the hexagonal steps along the back wall, and Yaz finds a small, slumped over shape there.

            “Doctor!” she cries, just about remembering to set the tea down instead of dropping it in her haste. She looks so small, so crumpled up—had she gotten hurt and not said? Had something happened?

            She springs forward and reaches out, but unlike on Gallifrey, her hands are hidden somewhere underneath her, so instead Yaz gently brushes her hair away from her face, sneaking a hand between her cheek and her shoulder to try and find a pulse, because she looks so horribly still—

            As soon as Yaz’ fingers brush her skin, the Doctor jolts, sitting up so fast she sways on the step.

            “Careful!” Yaz says, catching her by the shoulders. “Doctor, what happened? Are you all right?”

            “Me? Oh, yeah, m’fine, just, you know, bit of a nap—”

            “The TARDIS were worried about you,” Yaz says, not saying that her heart is still racing in her chest, that the sight of her lying there fallen over like that had scared her too. “You sure you’re okay?”

            “Weirdly, the best sleep I’ve ever had, if you can believe it,” the Doctor says, and she stretches, her joints making horrible popping sounds.

            “Turns out, I can’t,” she says, rolling her eyes theatrically. “C’mon. It’s been an absolutely bonkers few days, you need some actual sleep in an actual bed. Where’s your room?”

            “Mmmm, haven’t really got one,” the Doctor answers, ducking her head. Yaz realizes she hasn’t pulled away from the grip on her shoulders, and so, very gently, she dares to stroke her thumbs back and forth, ready to let go the instant it seems like the Doctor’s uncomfortable. Instead, she can feel the tension bleed out of her body with each touch. “Got the whole ship, really, haven’t I? Except for your room, Yaz, that’s yours. Wouldn’t want to be rude.”

            “No,” Yaz agrees, smiling gently. She glances around and sees that either the TARDIS has once again provided or that they’ve forgotten to put away the stargazing mattress—it’s really become a bad habit at this point. “Still, there’s at least one better place than the stairs. Up you get.”

            The Doctor groans pathetically, but lets Yaz pull her to her feet and walk her over to the mattress on the floor, lets her peel off her coat and boots before collapsing onto it face-first. Yaz chuckles; she’s still concerned that the Doctor’s so tired, still worried about that hopeless look on her face and the shattered way she’d just found her, but looking at her now, starfished across the mattress with her hair fanning out around her head like a burst of sunlight, she can’t help but smile. She’s adorable like this, really.

            “See?” Yaz tells her, grabbing one of the blankets the Doctor hasn’t already pinned beneath her and pulling it up over her shoulders. “Better, right?”

            “Mmm,” the Doctor hums.

            Yaz nods, letting her fingers trail over the edge of the blanket. She’s not sure why she’s lingering. She should go, let her get some sleep, try and get some herself. But she can’t quite bring herself to move away just yet. When she finally does, though, the Doctor’s hand snakes free of the blanket to grab her own.

            “Yaz…” she says quietly. “You could… that is, could you… just for a little while…”

            “Do you want me to stay?” Yaz asks, just as quietly. She feels, quite suddenly, like she can’t breathe.

            “Please,” she whispers, and she blinks open her eyes, and there it is again, that frightened, desperate look Yaz can’t bear. “I can’t… please.”

            Yaz will think about it later. She’ll wonder why, and what it means, and whether it was a good idea. But right now, all she sees is that the Doctor is afraid, and that she can help.

            “’Course I’ll stay,” she says. “Go on, budge up then.”

            The Doctor shifts, and Yaz lifts the blanket and slides beneath it beside her. She’s about to ask if the Doctor’s got enough space when she moves in, burying her face in Yaz’ shoulder and winding an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Yaz lets out a surprised huff of laughter before leaning into the hug, the surprising warmth of the gesture.

            “Never took you for a cuddler, Doctor,” she murmurs against the top of her head.

            The Doctor says nothing, just holds her tighter.

            “It’s all right,” Yaz whispers. “I’ve got you, okay?”

            The Doctor nods against her collarbone, and slowly, as Yaz traces circles between her shoulder blades like her mum used to do for her after a nightmare, she relaxes. Her breathing evens out enough that Yaz thinks she’s dropped off again. Yaz closes her eyes, resting her cheek against the crown of the Doctor’s head, the soft Earl Grey scent of her and the steady four-beat rhythm of her heart unexpectedly soothing in her arms.            

“Sweet dreams, Doctor,” she whispers with a yawn. Perhaps, just for tonight, she can help give her that.