Since We'll Forget

The Fjord

"The whole universe ahead of us... where to, Yasmin Khan?"

Yaz smiled at the Doctor's eager face. Her hand was already on the dematerialization lever, and she was beaming. Ever since Dan had left, the Doctor had seemed unnaturally upbeat. After traveling together for so long, Yaz knew well enough that his departure had impacted the Doctor deeply, but as was par for the course at this point, she was hiding it beneath a thick veneer of enthusiasm. Still, after their discussion on the beach, Yaz felt hesitant to pry. Even looking at the Doctor sent electricity down her spine. It was too soon for both of them to ask her to be vulnerable again. How could Yaz trust herself to respect the Doctor's boundaries if she gave her those sad, solemn hazel eyes that melted her heart? No, she needed more time to heal, to create distance, to remind herself that they were back to the beginning.

'You're friends, Yaz', she thought. 'Just friends. That's all.'

"And that's okay," she whispered to herself.

"What was that?" the Doctor asked.

"Nothin'. Nothin' at all," Yaz replied hastily.

"Right."

The Doctor's face fell a bit.

Yaz felt a pang of guilt. She'd been guarding herself around the Doctor lately. Already three weeks, four adventures, and two near-death experiences had passed since they'd spoken about their feelings. And still, an unholy mix of shame, guilt, embarrassment, and sadness stewed in Yaz's chest each time the pair talked. This was a challenge, especially because the Doctor had picked up on Yaz's evasiveness, in spite of being evasive herself. But her emotions had become a barrier to their unimpeachable connection, so they spent their time pretending. Attempting, always, to pretend their way back to normalcy. Back to what they once had. Before it went all... squiggly.

"Well then," the Doctor said, her face twisting into a mask of pleasantry again. "I s'pose we can go to that planet."

"What planet?" Yaz asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Nothing! The planet called 'Nothing'."

"Right, yeah, how could I forget about the planet called 'Nothing'?" Yaz asked sarcastically.

"Just wait until you see it, Yaz," the Doctor said, ignoring Yaz's remark. She'd already begun whizzing around the console, flipping switches and setting a navigational course. "It's beautiful."

"Then why's it called 'Nothing'?"

"The locals didn't want it to become a tourist trap, really. Sort of like Greenland and Iceland. I mean, if you were an early traveler, would you really go to a place called 'Ice-land' over one called 'Green-land'? Same principal with Nothing."

"So what, it's a got a sister planet that's a real dump but it's called 'Something'?"

"Nah," the Doctor replied, pulling the dematerialization lever. "Just Nothing. It's a big universe, Yaz. Nothing is pretty far out there. They don't need any other misdirections. Even if people find out how lovely it is —which, in a few hundred years, they will— most of 'em aren't willing to make the trek. But just to be safe, we're going to the time when they first opened it to visitors."

"I like to avoid crowds," she added.

'Great,' Yaz thought, 'alone together on a stunning planet.'

A deep, drum-like sound signaled that the TARDIS had landed. The Doctor grabbed her coat from where it was hanging on one of the crystalline columns and threw open the doors with gusto.

"Welcome, Yaz," she said, "to the year thirty-two hundred and thirty-three."

Yaz followed the Doctor out and shielded her eyes from the blinding, pinkish light of a foreign sun.