"You promised me a conversation."
The Doctor paused with her hand on the TARDIS door as the hard crack of Yaz's voice rang out. She closed her eyes for a second, wondering how Yaz had found the courage. Turning around, she distantly noted Dan standing near the console, looking a little uncertain.
"I'm going to go..." he flapped a hand towards the back of the TARDIS. "Wash my socks. You two do the talkin' thing."
The Doctor found her eyes drawn to the floor. She could feel Yaz looking at her, feel the burn of those dark eyes. She saw heavy boots step into her line of sight, and flicked her gaze up to Yaz's face, then found that her eyes wouldn't stay where she wanted, instead choosing to alight on a thousand different things. Console, custard cream, a jacket, small stain on the floor should clean that up -
"Doctor. It's still just me."
"I know." She closed her eyes again, taking deep breaths. She'd stared down monsters, dictators, beings who thought of themselves as gods, but she couldn't look at one of her best friends. Bit embarrassing that. "Yaz. There are so many words spiralling in my head, words, stories, lifetimes, and I don't know how to say what needs to be said."
"Can you do it a different way?" Yaz was closer now, the Doctor could hear her breathing, feel the warmth of her.
"Another way?"
Yaz lifted her hand. She raised the Doctor's chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. There's so much in there, the Doctor realised, taking in affection, worry, even terror, and a shaky hope. Yaz's hand shook as she raised it to the side of the Doctor's head. "Contact?"
The Doctor's expression sharpened, properly connecting to Yaz for the first time. She took a deep breath, starting to pull away. Yaz took her hand, glaring at her. The Doctor sighed and raised her hand, unable to resist tucking a bit of Yaz's hair behind her ear. She placed her hand on the side of her friend's head and closed her eyes.
"Contact."
--
(Edited to correct tense changes!)