Come on PC Khan, pull yourself together, Yaz told herself. In her line of work, she had seen all sorts, including pools of blood. But this was different, because she just knew that it was The Doctor's. Who else would have sat here?

Graham was saying something down the phone to her, but she'd spaced out in the few seconds of shock since her discovery. Once she snapped back to the present, she asked him to repeat what he'd said.

'We're coming to you, Yaz. You're by the TARDIS right?'

'Yeah, there's a bench near it. Hurry!'

They hung up, and Yaz returned to surveying the scene. Instead of panicking, she switched to police officer mode. If this was The Doctor's blood, then they'd need to figure out where she was. Yaz tried to look at the scene with through professional eyes.

There was a pool of blood, which was the most obvious piece of evidence. Looking closer, Yaz could see that some things didn't seem to make sense. She glanced around the base of the bench, and searched the ground within 5 metres of it. She turned, staring down at the ground, scrutinising. She bent down to the ground.

What was interesting, was that there were no droplets anywhere on the ground. None. If The Doctor had moved away from the bench, then there should be a trail of blood. But there was nothing.

The sandy gravel around the base of the bench had been disturbed. Yaz could see scuff marks, which tend to come about after a scuffle. The dents entrenched in the sand made it clear that there had been a struggle.

From her basic analysis, Yaz began to hypothesise. Knowing The Doctor, her disappearance had to be down to alien intervention. It is The Doctor after all. The fact that there was no blood trail, indicated to Yaz that there had been no movement from the bench, yet the person bleeding was not here. From Yaz's understanding of space travel, her first theory – teleportation.

The scuffle marks could have come from The Doctor resisting someone. Judging from the blood splatter pattern, the assailant would have attacked from behind, not giving The Doctor much chance to fight back.

Yaz shuddered at the thought, but pushed away the fact that it was The Doctor. She had to figure this out, if she had any chance of getting her friend back.

Before she could think about it further, Ryan and Graham came running up to her, anxiety clear on their faces.

'Find anything?' Ryan asked hastily, whilst Graham attempted to catch his breath. Yaz nodded, and began her hypothesis.

'I reckon she's been taken. Most likely by an alien force, because there's no blood trail leading away from the bench. If you look at the sand, you can see it's been disturbed, like there's been a fight or struggle.'

'Blimey Yaz, that was quick!' Graham said, clearly impressed. Yaz would normally have smiled in appreciation, but right now she was in attack mode.

'Since we have to presume this is what happened, we need to stop calling her. If she's been taken hostage, we could put her in more danger. Same goes for texting.' The boys nodded at her, clearly letting Yaz take charge.

'What do we do? Call your police mates?' Graham suggested. Yaz stopped to ponder this. Would it be a good idea to bring in the force? It would be useful to have them searching other avenues, but there was the complicated question of The Doctor's identity.

'They could be useful. I'm just concerned… like… what do we tell them? About her I mean? Why would we be calling her in missing?' She paused, then had a thought. 'We can't tell them she's an alien, but maybe we could pretend to know her. My supervisor saw her last week, so we could use that identity.'

'We could pretend she's related to Graham? That would be an alright cover story, right?' Ryan suggested. 'I mean, we could make her your daughter, Graham…'

'Oi, I'm not old enough to be her Dad!'

'Well…'

'Let's stick with niece,' Yaz piped up, clearly trying to avoid more confrontation and unnecessary arguments. Now was not the time for banter. The boys nodded in agreement.

'She called herself Jane Smith when she went undercover, so we'll just stick with that. Just say she's currently living with you two, but that she's gone missing in a new city. We can work out the finer details later.'

'So what do we do now? How can we find her?' Ryan asked, still confused. Right, a plan. Yaz was good at plans. She tried to think strategically, ignoring her frantic heart.

'Graham needs to report her missing, since he's the blood relative. Say you stumbled across this spot, looking for your niece, when you noticed the blood. Ryan was with you, so you discovered it together. Then you called me because I'm your police mate and you were scared. While you're doing that, I'll phone my supervisor and ask him for a favour.'

Graham nodded, understanding his role.

'And then what do we do? We can't just stand around while the police search the place!'

'No, you're right. What'll happen then is that Graham will need to stay here and talk to the police. We need all the resources we can get. Ryan, you can go and search everywhere else, rope your mates in if you need too.'

'What are you going to do?' Ryan asked.

'I'm gonna search the TARDIS for any more clues.'

….

After hashing out the finer details, they set about their plan. Graham was surprisingly good at lying under pressure. Meanwhile, Yaz pulled out her phone and called her supervisor.

'Yaz, this better be good. What shenanigans are you up to…'

'Listen mate, I need a favour…'

'Come on, Yaz, not again…'

'My friend's niece has gone missing. He's in bits, and we need a lot of support on the scene.'
She could hear her supervisor deliberating over the phone, so she cut in and added more to strengthen her case. 'There's a lot of blood here.' At the mention of blood, she could hear her supervisor's breath rate increase. Adrenaline was kicking in.

'Alright Yaz, what are the details?'

….

Yaz's plan worked perfectly. The bench was being examined by forensics, who were surveying the scene. Crime scene tape covered the area, blocking pedestrians who were used to walking that route. Luckily, the TARDIS was just out of reach of the crime scene, so she could just slip in unnoticed.

Graham kept up the charade of anxious guardian, which Yaz knew was fuelled by true anxiety. She kept checking her phone, just in case. Still no messages.

Ryan had stuck around to answer more questions, all of which he had bullshitted on the spot. Once the police were done with him, he was free to go. As he began to leave, he gave Yaz the thumbs up, and began to jog away.

'I'll text you,' he told her as he left the scene. She nodded, and looked back at the bench. Now it was time to play her part.

Surreptitiously, she slipped into the TARDIS and closed the door behind her. Making her way to the console, she caressed one of the looming columns with her hand. She had no idea what she was going to do, but she knew the console was a good place to start.

'Hello?' Yaz whispered nervously, hoping the sentient ship would give her an answer. No reply. She cleared her throat, and tried again. 'Hello, TARDIS?' Still no answer. Yaz sighed. She knew the TARDIS couldn't talk, but could respond in other ways. She walked up to the central console and, cautiously, pressed a random button.

She walked around the console, trying random buttons and levers, in an attempt to make contact with the ship. Yaz continued talking, hoping the ship was listening.

'She's gone. She's been taken. What do we do?'

As if in response, the central console suddenly sent out a whoosh that scared Yaz. It took her by surprise. She realised that this was the TARDIS responding. Finally. Yaz tried another button, but this time got a static shock from it. She wrenched her hand backwards, holding the stinging extremity in her other hand.

'What was that for?' She objected. The TARDIS let out another whoosh. Yaz interpreted that as 'stop pressing my buttons.' She bit her lip in guilt. 'Sorry.' The TARDIS responded, but this time with a softer, more relaxing noise. Yaz took that as acceptance.

'What do we do? We don't have anybody who can help. We're just stuck, and we can't do anything to get her back. I don't even know where she is.' Yaz felt her bottom lip wobble, and she tried to furrow her eyebrows to hold back tears. She didn't want to cry in front of the great time machine. She'd been doing well in police mode, but now that she was slipping out of it, the day was starting to catch up with her. From the intense happiness in the morning to downright terror now, Yaz felt drained. She just wanted The Doctor back.

As if sensing Yaz's distress, the TARDIS suddenly whirred in response. A part of the console opened up, and launched something at Yaz. Bewildered, Yaz managed to catch the flying object before it flew past her. The console closed itself up, as if nothing had happened. Yaz looked closer at her prize.

It was a phone. Just a mobile. An old one, by the looks of it. It was a flip phone, and looked as if it had seen some adventures. She flipped it open, a small wave of satisfaction coming over her as it clicked open. Having grown up in the age of smartphones, Yaz had never got to experience flip phones. It was a novelty.

Yaz glanced up at the console in confusion. How could an old flip phone help her? She glanced back down, and made her own deductions. She went straight to the contacts section, guessing that if this phone was on the TARDIS, then it must be useful. And be full of useful information.

Disappointingly, there was only one name in it. Exiting the contacts section, she quickly looked in the messages box. There were some back and forth messages between The Doctor and the one contact, but it looked like they had stopped for a while. Yaz read a couple of the messages to decipher the mystery contact, but then stopped abruptly. She couldn't go snooping through The Doctor's phone! That's not a great way to start… whatever their relationship was.

She went back into the contacts section, and glanced at the name again. It rang a bell, but she wasn't sure why. Maybe The Doctor had mentioned them before? Well, hopefully this person could help her. She had to try.

She pressed the name and the phone began to ring. She held it up to her ear, her foot tapping anxiously against the grating. Within two rings, the phone was answered.

'Doctor?' A woman answered, mirroring Yaz's anxiety. Yaz gulped, before answering.

'Erm… no… my name is Yaz.' She could almost feel the woman's confusion through the phone.

'Where's the Doctor?'

'That's what I was hoping you could help me with.' She paused, before realising she needed confirmation of the contact. 'I need to ask you something first.'

'What?'

'Are you Martha Jones?'