The lulls between travel are moments Yaz quietly savours, finding she enjoys them as much as the life and chaos of each world they're thrown into. Their tight little unit - team TARDIS, as the Doctor fondly dubbed them - found an easy balance on board the ship, a ship whose pleasant background hum of life had quickly become a comfort rather than something alien. Aboard, they had all the space they could want, and sometimes Graham or Ryan did want. They could lose themselves in winding corridors and return when they wanted tea and a biscuit, minds a little clearer and hearts much lighter for it.

Today there's a lull, and Graham and Ryan have made themselves at home in a little den not far from the Console Room itself, in which Ryan is attempting to teach Graham video games. The Doctor had given Ryan a look at the rather violent choice of game, a complaint about guns on the tip of her tongue, but Yaz had ushered her from the room before she could scold them. She knew Ryan and Graham could use the time together after everything.

Yaz sits on a blanket covering the TARDIS floor, legs stretched out in front of her as she scrolls through her phone - thank God for the jiggery the Doctor had performed, allowing her to connect anywhere, even to WiFi. Still, her Twitter and Instagram feeds are hardly her main focus, not when the Doctor is tinkering not far away, half-hidden under the Console and muttering to herself.

She looks carefully over her phone as if afraid of being caught, smiling to herself at the sight of short blue trousers and pale legs sprawled out.

"What're you even doing under there?" Yaz asks curiously.

There's a spark followed by a surprised noise from the Doctor, who quickly scoots back from under the Console and removes a large pair of goggles back from her eyes to the top of her head. Her face is scrunched up and smudged with oil.

"Oh, bit of maintenance," she explains, then shrugs and tilts her head. "Messing about, really. Getting used to the new upgrade; she's changed as much as me, this one." Her face gets brighter as she pats the Console lovingly.

Yaz is pulled in like she always is, eager to listen and learn.

"Changed as in the TARDIS is alive as well?" She asks, eyes alight with wonder.

It's a look that can bring the Doctor into anyone's orbit, willing to open eyes and minds if only someone is willing because this life, if anything, is meant to be shared. She adores the thirst for knowledge in humankind especially, the beautiful sight of awestruck eyes or how they adapt so bravely, so wonderfully. Yaz, Ryan, and Graham are certainly no exception. Yes, the friends she's made most recently are really quite something, resilient in the face of everything they've had thrown their way.

The Doctor grunts a little as she gets to her feet, only to plop herself down next to Yaz.

"As alive as you and me," she says, bumping her shoulder into Yaz's. "Pretty cool, right?"

Yaz is drawn to her enthusiasm and warmth, the latter quite literally with them pressed so close. It's less that the Doctor seems unaware of personal space and more that she's just comfortable with Yaz, a thought that has a smile tugging her lips up further.

"Very cool," Yaz agrees, nodding. "So it's old then?"

"Old enough," the Doctor responds, her smile turning faint as if she's remembering.

Remembering what, Yaz might never know, the answer vague and, she figures, intentionally evasive. If the Doctor's ship has changed as much as she has and if it is indeed "old enough" then she couldn't even begin to guess at her friend's age. Outwardly, she's an energetic blonde in her mid thirties, but inwardly she's an alien with two pulses so Yaz settles on the idea that appearances - especially if the Doctor really had been a white-haired Scotsman in a previous life - can very much be deceiving.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The Doctor asks, all bright-eyed.

Yaz promptly stops chewing her lip in thought and comes back to the moment where all she can smell is oil and peppermint, two scents she's fast learned to associate with the woman beside her.

"Just thinking about my family," she answers, and it's not entirely a lie. Seeing Graham and Ryan together earlier whilst on board a space (and time) ship had definitely made her long for her family a little bit, no matter how bonkers they drove her sometimes.

The Doctor tips her head back at the response, taking in the information. "Oh. You know we can nip back anytime, don't you? Say the word and we're back in Sheffield, Bob's your uncle. Never did have that tea, anyway!" There's no hurt to the words, nothing to suggest the Doctor is dejected by Yaz being a bit homesick. No, there's just soft understanding and plenty of patience.

"I know. Thank you," Yaz says. "I'll be okay. I used to get homesick just sleeping at my friend's house, and she only lived across the road." She laughs at the memory of little ten year old Yaz, crying quietly in a sleeping bag until morning when she could run back home in her pajamas, slippers to tarmac and pillow clutched tight in her arms. At least she'd managed the night without giving up. Yaz never gives up.

There's endless pride on the Doctor's face. "Now look at you!" She says, poking an index finger gently to her chest. "A police officer in your own right and a time traveller! You should be dead proud of yourself, Yasmin Khan." She slings an arm around Yaz's shoulder, pulling her into a warm side-hug.

Flushed and happy from the praise, Yaz happily leans into the embrace and returns it, unexpected but far from unwelcome. Though they've only known each other a short while overall, Yaz still regards the Doctor's sentiments as something special, something to hold onto and keep close.

It's true that she's awed.

"You're like the best person I've ever met."

That had spelled it out quite clearly, but she thinks her awe is well justified, and so is the level at which she regards the admiration she receives; she's seen the bravery, selflessness, intelligence, comfort, understanding... All her life, she's been drawn to women just like this, but it's becoming more apparent with each passing minute in her presence that there's nobody quite like the Doctor.

If Yaz's face becomes warmer and her heart quickly skips, that's her own business.

The sounds of Graham and Ryan entering the Console Room draw the two naturally apart, both greeting their friends with smiles, but Yaz's mind is still secretly filled with the way the Doctor's soft hair had brushed her cheek not moments before. God, girls could do the funniest things to her with just the simplest of actions and they never fail to make her buzz with adrenaline.

"Graham's got 'monk on 'cause I beat him," Ryan says with a grin thrown Graham's way.

The older man just waves a hand and shakes his head. "Settle down, we all know I let you win. Anyway, I don't know why you want to bother with those games when we've got all that out there to explore. Tell him, Doc."

On her feet now, the Doctor pats Ryan's shoulder sympathetically. "He's got a bit of a point, mush," she says, then she's rounding the Console and pressing this, pulling that, lights blinking and engines softly humming.

Yaz feels the loss at her side where it's cold now, but it's worth it to see her in action like this, goggles still pulled back on her head which makes Yaz hide a smile into her hand. The Doctor is so full of life that it's impossible for it not to be contagious, and that's how Yaz finds herself getting to her feet too, joining her friends.

"So where to next?" She asks, arms braced on the edge of the Console, leaning forwards slightly as her eyes flick to each of her friend's, who all in turn look back to the Doctor for an answer to her question.

The Doctor reaches for a Custard Cream, biting one in half with a shrug. "Wherever we end up," she says, and the lack of plan should be worrying but after everything, there's ample trust between all of them.

Then there's that familiar tug in Yaz's belly, nerves and anticipation and adrenaline all mixing with her desire for this life, this adventure.

"I want more. More of the universe. More time with you."

It's never been more true.