Light flashed all around the two women, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Yaz couldn't see through the blue haze, as her stomach did somersaults. She'd been in enough spaceships to know when she was teleporting.

Within seconds, the blue haze dissipated and revealed the TARDIS, standing there proudly. She wobbled on the spot, but Martha pulled her back, stopping her from toppling over.

'Thanks. Just when you think you get used to teleports, they hit you in a totally different way.' Yaz commented. She looked around, making sure their assailants hadn't also appeared. Luckily, the street was deserted.

Martha unlinked her arm from Yaz, and looked up at the TARDIS, grinning.

'Fantastic, it worked!'

'Martha, you're gonna have to catch me up here. What worked?'

'The teleport!'

'I can see that. So, you knew it was a teleport?'

Martha looked down at the pendant in her hands, turning it over and over.

'Not until we got up close to it. Stroke of luck, you getting it off her!'

'I didn't even think, she was just coming at me…' Yaz tailed off, the silence a reminder of the attack they had just been victim to. Martha rounded on her, giving her the once over. Always the medic.

'Are you alright?' Martha asked, concerned. Yaz brought her hand up to her head, only just remembering that she'd hit her head. Nausea awoke and she felt suddenly dizzy.

'I hit my head on the ground,' Yaz murmured, as she drew back her hand. Blood seeped through her fingers. Immediately, Martha was examining her, scrutinising the wound with scientific objectivity. Yaz looked towards the TARDIS, praying for a good prognosis.

'Good news is it's not a deep wound, but I am slightly concerned about concussion. How are you feeling?'

'Bit sick, but other than that, I'm fine.'

'I suggest some rest…'

'No way, I can't just rest! I've done enough resting!' Yaz countered. No way was she going to rest until The Doctor was safe. Especially after everything they had just learned.

'Okay, okay, I understand. Just let me know if you feel worse, okay? Then it will be doctor's orders.' Martha said, reluctantly. Yaz really was just like her. Yaz nodded at her, clearly more satisfied with that answer.

…

The girls entered the TARDIS, keen to continue the mission. Even though what Trisha had said about The Doctor being used was horrifying, she was trying to hold onto the positives. They had a motive. They had a company name. They even had some of the tech. The team were definitely in a better position than they had been the few hours prior.

'Guys, we've got news!' Yaz called out into the cavernous room. Her eyes were drawn to the three men huddled over the blood tracer. Mickey's expression was one of deep concentration, Graham's of vivid interest, and Ryan of mild confusion. Clearly the tracer was a tricky gadget. They looked up as Martha and Yaz entered the TARDIS.

'That's great, what did you find out… what the hell happened to you two?' Graham exclaimed. Yaz and Martha looked down at themselves, then at each other properly, not realising how dishevelled they both looked.

'We had a run-in,' Martha explained. Mickey looked up from the tracer, and let his face fall.

'Babe, what happened to you?' He dropped what he was holding and made his way over to his wife, deep concern etched over his face. He stopped just short of her, but clearly wanted to reach out to her.

'I'm fine, really. We're both fine.'

'Yaz's head is covered in blood!' Ryan remarked, as he and Graham made their way over to them as well. Yaz shrugged it off.

'It's not as bad as it looks, honest. We were ambushed outside the restaurant by a couple…'

'Martha, babe, why didn't you call me?' Mickey said, worry evident in his voice.

'There wasn't time, they just came out of nowhere.'

'Who were they?' Graham asked, concerned. The girls really did look like they'd been through the wars.

'It was the couple that attacked The Doctor and I about a week ago, when I was out on a shift. Turns out, they're part of a team recruited to track her down and kidnap her.'

'By who?'

'A company called Vivus. They're working with a bunch of aliens who want to exploit The Doctor.'

'How?' Ryan asked, knowing he didn't want to hear the answer. Yaz didn't want to go in depth, so just gave him a brief answer.

'Because she's powerful, and useful to them.' She paused. 'But we have good news.'

'And that is?' Graham asked quickly.

Yaz held out the teleport, smiling.

'We managed to swipe this teleport from one of the attackers. It means that she's been slowed down, and we can use it to get to The Doctor quicker. Once we get a trace on her, we should be able to use it to get to her!'

'Really?!' Ryan exclaimed, suddenly reanimated. He looked over excitedly at Graham and Mickey, who both looked equally confused and relieved.

Martha moved forward, and took the teleport out of Yaz's hands, examining it herself.

'Hold on just a sec, we don't know how it works yet…'

'But it got us to the TARDIS?'

'Yeah, because I pictured the TARDIS and could visualise exactly where it was. We need to work out if it works through sentiments, coordinates, emotional energy. We need to study the tech…'

'What if we just picture The Doctor, surely it would lead us to her?'

'Without knowing where she is, the teleport is functionally useless, until we find out where she is.'

Yaz felt her hopeful spirits crash down again. Just when she'd felt they were finally winning, it was a crushing blow.

'Oh, right,' she murmured quietly. She looked away from the group, trying to hide her moist eyes. Graham put a kindly hand on her shoulder.

'It's alright, love. It's still good news. It'll prove useful, right Martha?' Graham implored to their new friend.

'Of course, but there's no harm in checking it out first, especially since it's come from behind enemy lines.' She paused, directly talking to Yaz. 'I just want to be extra careful. If we get this wrong, then we're useless to The Doctor.'

Yaz nodded in understanding, but remained despondent. Mickey moved towards his wife, with his hands wide open.

'And that's my cue to start analysing.' Martha handed over the pendant to her husband, and he hurried back to his makeshift work desk. With one last concerned look at Yaz, Martha moved towards the desk with Mickey to look at the pendant further. Yaz wiped a fierce tear away, determined not to cry. Graham, in his kindly way, took one look at Yaz and made a decision.

'Come on Yaz, let's get you cleaned up while they do their research. I'll make you a cuppa and we can have a chat.'

'Graham, I'm fine…'

'Yaz, you're my surrogate granddaughter, I know when you're lying.'

'Am I really?' Yaz looked up at him, surprised. She and Graham had grown closer over their adventures, but she didn't realise she mattered to him so much.

'Yeah, of course. Now come on, let's get you more comfortable.'

…

After he had cleaned her up, Graham and Yaz sat quietly in the kitchen, nursing their cooling teas. Ryan had stayed to help Mickey and Martha with the tech stuff. Yaz looked so miserable that Graham knew he had to look after her. Yaz was a big girl, he knew that, but she had just lost her friend (and maybe more) and she clearly needed a chat.

'Yaz, this must be so hard for you.'

'It's hard for all of us. She's the glue that keeps us all together.'

'Yeah, but I mean especially hard for you.'

Yaz looked at him over her mug, eyes nervous but defiant.'

'Has Ryan said something to you?'

Graham looked at her in surprise.

'No? Should he have?'

The defiance in Yaz's eyes diminished, realising her friend hadn't blurted out her news. She wasn't afraid of telling Graham, but she had wanted to find the right words. Then The Doctor went missing and she hadn't had time to even think about it.

'No, no, it's fine.' Yaz took another sip, not sure she was ready for this conversation.

'The Doctor means a lot to you, doesn't she Yaz? Perhaps in a way you don't quite understand yet?' She knew what Graham was getting at, but she didn't know what to say.

'Yes,' she answered simply, allowing Graham to have his answer without her having to bear her soul.

'It's all natural, whatever you're feeling, Yaz. The Doc's disappearance certainly doesn't help things, does it?' Graham reached across the table for Yaz's hand, trying to convey sympathy. It sat atop hers, and squeezed in reassurance. Yaz felt her lip tremble at his act of kindness, and knew if she didn't reign in her distress now, it was going to flood out. Her eyes misted over, but she swallowed to stop tears from spilling over.

'We were on the verge of things when she disappeared, Graham. We'd finally acknowledged that there were… certain feelings there. I'd certainly never been that happy until we kissed.'

Graham didn't look surprised at her admission. He squeezed accordingly.

'It's so unfair, isn't it, having her torn from you like that.' He paused, but sat up a little straighter, suddenly determined. 'But we are going to get her back, Yaz. We've got the best team for the job. She will come home to us, alive.'

Yaz felt tears fall freely now.

'How can we know that? I've done a shit job at trying to find her, and every moment she's missing, they are using her and hurting her and I just… I can't describe the guilt I feel.'

'It's not your fault, Yaz.'

'I was the last one to see her. I left her on the bench to get some sleep, and then she was gone. If I'd stayed longer…'

'Hey, don't do that to yourself. Playing what-ifs over and over won't help find her, and it certainly won't help you.'

Yaz nodded, knowing he was right.

'I just miss her so much,' she whispered.

'Me too, love. Come here.' Graham released her hand, and got up. He moved over to her and reached out to comfort her. Yaz sat up and wrapped her arms around him, allowing herself to be comforted. Man, she was so glad Graham was travelling with them. He was definitely the nurturer of the group.

A clatter could be heard from the hallway, before a breathless Ryan flew into the kitchen.

'Graham, Yaz, come quick!'

'What is it?' Graham asked, retracting from the embrace. Ryan inhaled a quick breath, still out of breath from running so fast.

'The blood tracer is working. We have coordinates for The Doctor!'