Under the title “Spoiler Warming”, and inspired by the Thirteen/Fifteen meeting in “The Reality War” and Donna’s screwup in “Wild Blue Yonder”.
Prose
The TARDIS materialized in a hilly field of the kind outside Sheffield, save for the lava pools, gas vents, and scattered black rocks. Ignoring the scanner, the Doctor sauntered outside, giggling up a storm. Yaz checked it instead, and much more meticulously; she’d learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving, especially when scrutinized by eyes, not machines.
All looked good, so she cautiously set off, locking the outer door behind her. As predicted, the planet was habitable: a breathable atmosphere, a humid breeze, and herself, no survival gear in sight, trudging to a dark square—presumably the future TARDIS—on the horizon. For once, first contact wasn’t gonna be with someone hostile! You could despise yourself, as Yaz knew well, but you’d never arrest yourself at gunpoint! If Yaz was prodded by a barrel one more time, she’d grab it and smack the wielder in unpleasant areas!
Whatever her and the Doctor did—would do—it was taxing and embarrassing. Future Yaz’s stance lacked Present Yaz’s stoic confidence, and daunting scorch marks, in addition to skin and underthings, were revealed by the rips in her filthy clothes. Leave it to the Present Doctor to shriek as she had when meeting a Skarowinds employee dressed as the Karkus—this, when she’d been walloped by the man himself in the Land of Fiction. If Yaz hadn’t tagged along as empires were felled and invasions terminated, she would’ve assumed this was the universe’s biggest goof, someone who preferred having fun over helping out wherever necessary.
“There yer are!” Cupping her mouth, the Present Doctor cried—a little less high-pitched, alhumdulillah—“Hi, Future Yaz!” Having got Future Yaz’s attention, she grabbed Present Yaz’s closest hand, telegraphing what she was gonna say next. “You say hi, too!”
With the Present Doctor waving on her behalf, Present Yaz grinned at herself, poking the brown bear. Future Yaz crossed her arms and flared her nostrils, obviously refraining from responding more rudely. Present Yaz winced, the Present Doctor flatly squealed, and with a braid-disturbing snarl, Future Yaz resumed her march. The Future Doctor was probably in their TARDIS, but why? Surely she wasn’t bailing out Future Yaz, meaning this adventure would be dangerous?
“She ain’t in a good mood!” murmured the Present Doctor as Future Yaz, still fuming, entered the Future TARDIS. “I wonder what happened?”
“Happens,” Present Yaz said, smirking when the Present Doctor grumbled. “Will happen, if we’re really going through with this.”
“We’ve seen ourselves after the day’s been saved,” said the Present Doctor, testy herself. “Kinda implies we got no choice.”
“Yer dunno for sure. Remember yer told me—”
“That mess on Helheim!” Adding sarcasm to her aggression, the Present Doctor asked, grabbing Present Yaz’s hand, “Remember I told yer three years feel like days to me? C’mon!”
When the Doctor was this irritated, it was best to let her be. Present Yaz allowed herself to be dragged the other way, stealing glances at the Future TARDIS as it wheezed and disappeared.
Synopsis
YAZ’s breakfast in the TARDIS’s kitchen is interrupted by the popping up of THE DOCTOR in the console room. Since the past few minutes are hazy, she believes she’s met a forthcoming regeneration. What’s much clearer is her subsequent idea: to be a naughty Time Lord for a change, and spoil herself on how she saves the day. Shocked at this violation of the First Law of Time, Yaz spits coffee onto the console.
The TARDIS materializes in a volcanic valley. Outside, the Doctor and Yaz encounter the future Yaz, scalded, torn up, and angry with her past self. The Doctor wonders why, her own irritation emerging, before dragging Yaz the other way.
A nearby farmhouse has obviously been attacked by a monster. A FARMER tells the Doctor and Yaz, obligated, “Twas the coffee’s fault.” They’re flung into the past, as a blob of brown and blue smashes through the roof, making everything it touches sizzle and singe. Yaz realizes she’s responsible, the TARDIS’s console having been damaged by her coffee. Embarrassed, she collapses, allowing the Doctor to ferret her and the past farmer, panicking hard, to the basement.
Yaz admits her culpability. While the Doctor admonishes her, she’s more interested in the plan she’s devised. The blob is being sustained by the heat of the Eye of Harmony, so they can stop it by cooling it down, say, by using ice from the wine cellar. In the process, they apologize: Yaz for the slip-up, and the Doctor for prompting it with her impulsive decision. Yaz grins at the Doctor for acknowledging a flaw, inducing what could be flirting in return.
The Doctor and Yaz call the farmer upstairs. The farmer declines Yaz’s request to help clean up, just wanting this goddamn blob—the TARDIS—out of her house. The trio hack off the hardened muck covering the door, and the Doctor invites the farmer on a trip. Finding Time Lords too doolally for her liking, she’ll travel with ‘em when her vol-hogs fly.
The TARDIS is dematerialized for repairs. Predicting she won’t return here and now due to the temporal rat’s nest around the farmhouse, invoking the menace that is the BLE, the Doctor recommends that Yaz leave soon. Yaz heeds the warning, and the Doctor’s bet is correct. On the walk back, Yaz’s frustration with herself mounts to such a degree, her reaction to Past Yaz is very much genuine.
Entering the TARDIS, Yaz is encouraged to test the Doctor’s latest invention, a portable shower stall-cum-healer. She’s burned to bits and filthier than a vol-hog; combined with the Doctor’s adorable pout, this negates her awkwardness at bathing before a crush. Aloud, she relates a shower thought: they weren’t spoiled that badly, and would’ve figured out how to stop the blob anyway. The Doctor has a brainwave of her own, piloting the TARDIS to the aftermath of another attack. Horrified at what she’s unleashed, Yaz screams and cries, “Yer ain’t spoiling yerself with me!”