Early May brought a rare stretch of sunshine, a welcome relief after two solid weeks of miserable rain. The garden had started to perk up, green shoots pushing through the damp soil, and Yaz found herself more and more drawn to it, often escaping out there to prune, water or just sit with a cuppa. From the window of her little office, she’d stare out at it between sketches, letting the view calm her whenever work started to weigh on her.

But not today.

The peace she usually treasured had been shattered by the relentless growl and clatter of machines outside. The garage renovation had kicked into high gear, and Yaz felt like she was working in the middle of a bloody construction site. She’d tried earplugs. Then headphones. Then both. But every few minutes, whrrr, bang, clang, something else would start up. Her stylus clattered onto the desk as she threw it down in a huff, then stomped out of the room.

Downstairs, it was even worse. The noise rattled the windows and set her teeth on edge. She clicked the kettle on with more force than necessary, slammed a mug on the counter, and grabbed her phone.

Alex answered almost immediately. “Hey sweet pea! What’s up?”

“I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Yaz snapped, but the roar of machinery drowned her out.

“What, darling? I can’t hear you, honey...”

“I said I can’t fucking take this anymore!” she shouted, voice cracking slightly.

“The noise’s awful, hun... can you...”

“No shit!” Yaz shouted, bolting out the front door, needing to put distance between herself and the chaos. She stormed down the street, her slippers slapping the pavement, before finally pressing the phone back to her ear. “I’m gonna lose my bloody mind, Alex.”

“Oh love... what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? I can’t hear myself think! It’s drilling, banging, smashing... it sounds like they’re trying to demolish the house instead of fixing a bloody garage. The cats are hiding under the bed and I’m this close to joining them.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alex said softly. “I didn’t know it’d be this bad.”

“Me neither. Honestly, I can’t even work. And Friday’s looming and I’m just...” she stopped herself.

Alex didn’t push. She never did. Just waited quietly, giving Yaz the space to say what she needed.

“I’ll just go to Mum’s for the day,” Yaz muttered eventually, trying to sound breezy. “Least it’ll be quiet there.”

“You sure? I can call my uncle, find out how long this bit’s going to take...”

“No, don’t. I feel bad even moaning about it. It’s not your fault. It has to get done, right?”

There was a pause. Then Alex’s voice, soft and full of love: “I hate that it’s upsetting you. I wish I could fix it.”

“Don’t be daft. You didn’t hire a marching band.” Yaz let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she reached the end of the road and slowed her pace. “Anyway, Dad’ll have cooked something. Might as well take advantage.”

“We can get something nice when I get home, if you fancy,” Alex offered. “Your pick.”

“I’d like that.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Sorry I’m being all tetchy. I’m on and I’m just... I dunno... nervous about Friday.”

“Hey,” Alex said gently. “It’s just a consultation. Nothing’s happening on Friday.”

“I know,” Yaz replied with a quiet laugh. “Still… can’t help the way I feel.”

“I know,” Alex said again. “But whatever it is ...We're in this together. Always...that's all that matters, right.”

There was a silence, not uncomfortable, just full.

“Looove yoooou,” Alex sing-songed.

Yaz chuckled, some of the tension leaving her. “Love you more.”

“Not a chance,” Alex replied, grinning. “See you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah... see you. Bye, baby.”

....


Yaz sat at her mum’s kitchen table, her tablet propped up, stylus in hand, doing her best to focus on the logo design that just would not cooperate. The light was decent and the tea was hot, but the rest… well, the rest was a bloody nightmare.

Next to her, Sonya was beaming, radiant, in fact, feeding Prem who was in full goblin mode in his highchair, one sock off, hair full of mashed banana, waving a spoon like a tiny tyrant.

Sonya, oblivious to the chaos she was both witnessing and causing, nudged Yaz with her elbow. “So d’you reckon they’ll put the light switches on the left wall or the right when you go up the stairs?”

Yaz didn’t look up. “Probably the right. Closer to the door.”

“Aahh that's cool...cause I was gonna say that!” Sonya said, nodding seriously, like she was on Grand Designs. “And what about the window in the kitchen bit...d’you think it’ll open all the way? Cos I like it when windows open all the way, none of that silly tilt-and-turn nonsense...But then I can't really make demands...It'll be just...nice"

“I’ll ask, but I'm sure we can sort it...Don't worry about it.” Yaz murmured, adjusting a curve on the screen. It looked like a potato. Brilliant.

“And the kitchen floors...they’re doing tiles, right? Remember when Mum had that blue carpet in the '90s? Grim.”

Yaz pressed her lips together. “It’s tiles,” she said, as kindly as she could muster.

"I can't wait to start putting furniture together" Sonya beamed, her eyes glistening with excitement

A loud plop interrupted them as Prem flung his spoon dramatically to the floor, shrieking in outrage like he’d just been accused of tax fraud.

“Oh for goodness' sake, Prem!” Sonya gasped, diving down for the spoon while trying to dodge a flying chunk of what might have once been apple landing right into Yaz's computer.

Yaz sighed, closed her eyes and muttered, “Brilliant…” under her breath.

Prem, now in full performance mode, began twisting in his seat like he was trying to escape a medieval trap. Sonya, completely unbothered by the noise level, picked up another spoon and tried again. “Come on sweetheart, open up...like a train! Choo choo! Look, Aunty Yaz is drawing a pretty logo, let her concentrate while we do BIG BITES...”

“Sonya,” Yaz said gently, trying not to grit her teeth, “maybe just give him a break?”

Sonya blinked. “What, and let him win?”

Yaz gave her a look that said she’d gladly surrender if it meant ten minutes of silence.

Prem screamed. Again.

Yaz set the stylus down, leaned back in her chair, and sighed like a woman staring into the abyss. “Right. Sandwich.”

She got up and padded into the kitchen, pulling out the bread with the dramatic air of someone abandoning all ambition. The dream of productivity had well and truly died.

“Want one?” she called.

“Ooh, yes please! If you’re doing spiced egg mayo!” Sonya chirped as if she hadn’t just driven her sister to the brink.

Yaz said nothing. She was too busy quietly fantasizing about moving into the garden shed instead.

Just as she finished with sandwiches and bit into hers, Sonya looked up from her wrestling match with Prem, cheerful as ever. “Hey! After I feed him, we could take him out for a little walk! Get some air, yeah?”

Yaz blinked, chewed, then swallowed. “Sure. Why not,” she said flatly. “Might as well.”

At this point, it was either a walk... or madness.

....

By the time Yaz got home, the silence was so profound it almost felt sacred. The drills were gone, the shouting, the pounding all replaced by the gentle hum of the fridge and the soft shuffle of her slippers on the floorboards.

She crouched down in front of the cupboard, grabbing the bag of cat biscuits, and the moment the rustling began, all three of them came darting in like little furry missiles. One by one, they started circling her legs, tails high and hopeful.

“Alright, alright,” Yaz murmured with a smile, pouring food into each of their bowls. “Honestly, you lot are the only ones who’ve not asked me a single question today.”

Just as she straightened up, she heard the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock. A second later came the soft click of the door.

“Hiya!” Alex called out cheerfully from the hallway.

“In the kitchen!” Yaz shouted back, already feeling her shoulders loosen.

Alex appeared in the doorway, setting her bag down on the counter, eyes immediately finding Yaz’s. Without even needing to speak, they both leaned in, meeting halfway for a soft, familiar kiss that said, We made it through another day.

Yaz let out a long breath and collapsed into Alex’s chest, rubbing her face into her shirt.

Alex chuckled, wrapping her arms around her. “That bad, huh?”

“Prem chucked a bit of apple at my computer. I gave up trying to work and made a bloody sandwich. Sonya kept asking about plug sockets, windows and tiles like I was a bloody architect...I suppose she's just exited."

Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or wince. “Oh babe…”

“Tomorrow,” Yaz mumbled against her, “I’m going to a café. I don’t care if it’s just to stare at a wall for three hours.”

Alex tilted her chin up gently, so their eyes met. “That’s fair.”

She kissed her again, slow, soft, grateful.

“Right then,” Alex added brightly, “what if we get a takeaway.... anything you want...open up the sofa, and watch Doctor Who till we fall asleep like pensioners?”

Yaz’s face lit up instantly. “YES. You beautiful, brilliant woman. You read my mind.”

“I try,” Alex said with a smug little grin, already fishing her phone out to order food.

The cats rubbed up against Yaz’s ankles like they agreed, and as Yaz plopped down on the sofa with a sigh of contentment, she thought this might actually be the best part of the whole bloody day.

....

The sofa bed was stretched out fully now, sheets rumpled from cats stomping over them and a scattering crisps crumbs in one corner, but Yaz didn’t care. She was curled on her side, back pressed to Alex’s front, one of Alex’s arms wrapped snugly around her waist. The TV’s glow flickered gently across the room, casting soft shadows as the Doctor paced dramatically on screen.

Alex’s fingers were tracing slow, featherlight lines up and down Yaz’s arm and side, a rhythm as steady and comforting as her breathing. Yaz melted into it, feeling her whole body slowly unravel from the tight knot of the day. Her hormones were doing their usual number, everything felt too much and not enough all at once, but Alex, behind her like a quiet anchor, made the chaos bearable.

Every so often, Alex would lean in to press a soft kiss to the back of Yaz’s head. And each time, Yaz would twist just enough to tilt her face up with a quiet “Oi. Lips, not hair.”

Alex would grin and give her the kiss she asked for, gentle and warm, before settling back behind her, hand tightening just a little around Yaz’s middle.

They lay like that in peace for a while, until Alex’s voice broke the silence, serious in that mischievous way Yaz had come to expect.

“Wait,” she said suddenly, “if the TARDIS is alive… and has, like, feelings and all that… why is she just leaving the Doctor? Can't she just...scoop him?"

Yaz blinked. Then immediately started laughing, shoulders shaking. “What the hell kind of question is that?!”

Alex propped herself up on one elbow behind her. “No, seriously!”

Yaz buried her face into the pillow, laughing so hard she had to gasp for breath. “If TARDIS just scooped up the Doctor each time he sneezed, we'd have nothing to watch.”

“She’s a wobbly blue box with commitment issues,” Alex mumbled into Yaz’s hair.

Yaz was in bits now, laughing so hard she could barely speak. “You don’t deserve this show!”

Alex kissed her cheek “Love you, sci-fi goblin.” she murmured

“Love you more, logic gremlin.”

.....

The night was quiet at Sheffield Hospital, with the hum of fluorescent lights providing a calm background to Alex’s rounds. She moved with a practiced ease, checking her watch to ensure she was on schedule. As the on-call OBGYN, she was prepared for the usual, monitoring labor, checking vitals, and assisting with routine deliveries. She had just stepped into the room when she heard the nurse’s voice over the intercom, calling her in for an emergency.

As she walked down the corridor, a nurse approached her.

“Dr. Sigma, we’ve got a new patient in room 204, she’s stalled at three centimetres. She’s been that way for about two hours. No progress. We need an OB to check in,” the nurse says.

“Got it, I’ll head there now,” Alex replies, feeling like it’s just another night. She glances at the chart in her hands, then heads down the hallway.

....

“Are you on your own, love?” the nurse asked, glancing down at the woman in the bed.

She nodded “My husband’s off on a work trip. I rang me mum and dad, like, but they’ll be a bit, comin’ from Sproxton"

“Don’t you fret, pet,” the nurse said, offering a kind smile as she fluffed the pillow behind her back. “We’ll look after you proper while you’re waitin’. Doctor’ll be in any minute now.”

Alex entered the room and saw the woman lying on the bed. A nurse is at her side, monitoring her vitals. Suddenly she paused.

The woman looked her way freezing. Her eyes widened and her face drains of color.

Alex felt anxiety rising up in side her. She knows who it is, even before the woman opens her mouth.

Linda Jennings, a woman from her hometown. Alex could feel the tension in the air as her chest tightened. She had her share of difficult patients, but this one is going to be a challenge even for her.

Linda’s face shifts to a mix of confusion, surprise and pure disbelief. "Oh, bloody hell,"

"Evenin’, Dr Sigma," the nurse greeted as Alex stepped inside.

Alex froze for a moment, forcing a polite smile as she moved further into the room. “Linda… been a while. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“Oh, you two know each other?” the nurse said with a light smile.

“You could say that” Alex replied, a knot forming in her stomach.

Linda’s expression turned. She pushed herself upright in bed, her face twisted with disbelief and fury. “You havin’ a laugh? That’s the doctor?”

The nurse glanced between them, puzzled. “Er… yes, she is.”

Linda shook her head, her voice rising. “Nah. Nah, no chance. I’m not having him deliver my baby! Get someone else!”

The nurse opened her mouth, caught off guard. “I… I’ll just...”

Alex gave the nurse a steady glance, then turned back to Linda, her voice even. “Right....Well, I know it isn’t ideal, but I’m the OB on call. The other doctor’s busy with a high-risk case, and...”

“I don’t care what you are!” Linda snapped, cutting her off. “You’re not layin’ a finger on me. I don’t want someone like you anywhere near me or my baby. Go on...get lost!”

Alex’s face flushed, heart sinking like a stone. She’d braced herself for something like this but hearing it out loud and in front of a colleague, still knocked the wind out of her.

She wanted to stay composed, keep her tone level and professional. But something in her snapped.

"You know what?" she said, her voice harder now, dropping all pretense. "Now you’re being bloody ridiculous. You’re stalling at three centimeters, your baby’s heart rate’s starting to wobble it has to come out. If you keep messin’ about you're putting both of you at risk. Right now, I’m the best bloody chance you’ve got.”

Linda was shaking her head, glaring at Alex with venom in her eyes. "Not a bloody chance mate. I’m not lettin’ you near me. I want another doctor"

Alex’s cheeks burned, and her voice lost its polished edge as frustration boiled over.

"You think this is a bloody Ritz or summat? You think we’ve got doctors lined up waitin’ outside just for you?" she snapped, stepping closer. "We’re short-staffed, overrun, and I’m the one on call tonight. That means me. Not your dream team from the telly."

Linda didn't answer, she refused to even look at Alex. In a silent defiance she stared at the wall in front of her.

A tense silence filled the room. Then Alex backed off a step. "Fine. If you'd rather wait, suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t try."

Realizing there was nothing more she could do to change Linda’s mind in this moment, Alex stepped out of the room. Her mind raced as she walked down the hallway.

....


As she rushed out of the delivery room, her jaw tight, breath shallow. The corridor smelled of antiseptic and tired linoleum. She spotted Neeta Patel, the charge nurse, by the nurses’ station, shrugging on her coat after a long shift.

“Neeta,” Alex called out, her voice tight, urgent. “I need your help.”

Neeta turned instantly, reading the strain in Alex’s face. “What is it?”

“My patient is refusing care.”

Neeta blinked. “What? Why?”

Alex ran a hand through her hair. “She’s from my hometown. Recognised me the moment I walked in. She’s refusing to let me treat her. It’s not about my skills, it’s…” Her voice dipped. “It’s cause of....” she trailed off

Neeta’s expression shifted into something colder. “She’s refusing you because you’re trans?”

Alex gave a small, bitter nod. “Wants another doctor...Won't let me touch her"

Neeta exhaled hard, already annoyed on Alex’s behalf. “Good grief.”

“But it’s worse,” Alex pushed on. “She’s stalled at three centimeters. She’s been that way for over two hours. No progress. Fetal heart rate’s borderline. If we don’t induce soon, things could turn fast.”

Neeta’s brow furrowed. “And where’s Dr. Perera?”

“In theatre. Emergency section with a twin breech. Won’t be free for at least another half hour...probably more. I can give a ring to Glen...but by time she comes from home it'll be another hour...can't wait that long.”

Neeta pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, we don’t have anyone else.”

Alex shook her head. “No. Just me. And she’s refusing me.”

For a second, neither of them spoke.

“I’m not trying to force her,” Alex said finally. “But the baby doesn’t have time to wait around while she works through her prejudice.”

Neeta gave a tight nod. “Alright. Let me talk to her. You stay here.”

Alex looked at her, grateful and tired. “Thanks, Neeta.”

Neeta patted her arm. “Don’t thank me yet.”

Alex watched Neeta head into the room, but the pit in her stomach only deepened. She had to stay composed, but the reality of being rejected, not for her skills, but because of her identity, was painful beyond words. Right now, she didn’t even care about transphobia. Her only concern was the baby, and the ticking clock in her head that was counting down to the point of no return.

.....

Neeta entered the room and stood at the foot of the bed, her posture calm but firm. "Evening Ms. Jennings," she began, her voice warm yet authoritative. "I just spoke with Dr. Sigma and she tells me that there seems to be a problem?"

"Well he told you right, didn’t he? I don’t want him delivering my baby. I want another doctor, simple as."

"May I know why? Dr. Sigma is one of our best OBs. She's highly skilled I.."

“He’s a bloke pretending to be a woman. Shouldn’t even be working with women, never mind delivering babies. It’s not right...it’s bloody disgusting, that’s what it is.”

Neeta sighed restraining herself, trying to be as professional as she possibly could "I know you’re upset, but you’re legally entitled to care. Refusing a doctor based on their gender identity is not only discriminatory.... it’s against hospital policy. This could have serious consequences, for both you and your baby."

Linda’s eyes were blazing as she snapped at Neeta. “Are you havin’ a laugh? I’m not letting that freak anywhere near me. Not a chance in hell. You can’t make me let him touch me, and you bloody well know it! I don’t give a toss about your policies... I’ll be straight in the papers with this, just you wait.”

Neeta remained composed, her voice still even.  "I assure you, Dr. Sigma maintains the highest standards of professionalism and she is an exceptionally skilled physician. This is about your health and your baby’s safety. You need medical assistance, and Alex is the only one who can provide that for you now. Please reconsider. We can’t delay treatment...waiting could harm your baby. We need to follow protocol, for everyone’s sake."

Linda shook her head hard, her voice shaking with anger. "I don’t care about your bloody protocol. Get someone else, now!"

....


Neeta stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle but weary click. She met Alex’s eyes in the hallway, her face etched with concern.

“She’s refusing, Alex,” Neeta said, her voice quiet but firm. “Flat-out. We can’t make her comply unless we escalate this. It’s heading toward a legal issue now.”

Alex let out a shaky breath, her fists clenched at her sides. “We don’t have time for that,” she snapped, though not at Neeta. “For fuck’s sake it's about the baby"

“I told her that,” Neeta replied gently. “She thinks we’re bluffing. She’s convinced this is all some ploy to force her hand. That's it I'm escalating it.”

Alex hesitated, then looked Neeta dead in the eye. “No... wait! Let me try... Just one more time.”

Neeta’s brows furrowed. “Alex…”

“I’m not going in as a doctor. I’ll keep it professional. But I know her. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll listen if I talk to her person to person, not doctor to a patient.”

Neeta gave her a long look, clearly torn. “If she lashes out again...”

“I can take it,” Alex interrupted, jaw set. “I’ve taken worse. I don’t give a toss what she calls me right now. I'm not standing here doing nothing while that baby is dying.”

Neeta paused, then gave a slow nod. “Alright. I’m going in with you...two minutes Alex...If she doesn't agree I'm escalating it.”

"Fine"

Together, they turned toward the door.

Linda turned her head as soon as they walked in. “What the hell do you want?”

“I’m not here as your doctor,” Alex said, keeping her voice even.

“No, you’re bloody not,” Linda snapped. “You’ve got no right...”

“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up,” Alex cut in, her patience cracking. “I don’t give a toss what you call me, he, she, it...honestly, I couldn’t care less. What I do care about is that baby in your belly, and right now, I’m the only one who can help.”

Linda glared at her, lips trembling with stubbornness.

“So if you don’t knock this nonsense off,” Alex pressed, stepping closer, “I can tell you straight, by the time that other doctor gets here, they’ll be pulling out a dead baby out of you. And you’ll have a bloody lot of explaining to do. To your family. To the police. And to yourself.”

Linda blinked but said nothing.

Alex leaned in slightly, her tone cold now, almost surgical. “So go ahead. Close your pretty eyes, picture me with a beard, deep voice, whatever helps you cope. Pretend I’m a bloke if that helps you sleep at night. I don’t give a fuck. But I’m not letting that baby die cause you’ve got hang-ups about what I wear under my scrubs.”

Her voice softened just enough to let the weight of her words land. “So....What’s it gonna be?”

Linda gave the faintest nod, her voice small and cracking with fear “Fine. Just do it…”

Alex didn’t waist a second, she was already barking orders.

“Right...Neeta, get oxytocin started. 2 milliunits per minute and titrate up every 20 minutes. Let’s get a monitor on her, continuous CTG. I want fetal heart rate, contractions, and BP every 10 minutes. Let’s move.” Alex pressed the buzzer calling for the staff

In no time the room snapped into motion. Midwives flanked the bed, adjusting the CTG straps across Linda’s belly. A nurse darted to the IV stand, hanging the oxytocin drip and priming the line. Alex leaned over, checking the latest trace as it began to record.

Twenty minutes passed. Still no meaningful contractions.

Thirty.

Minimal cervical change. Fetal heart rate dipped and then recovered, a deceleration. Then another.

Alex’s jaw clenched.

“She’s not responding fast enough,” she said, more to herself. She checked the trace again, another late deceleration. The baby was struggling.

Linda, watching the monitors, began to panic. “What’s happening? Why’s the line going down? Why is it beeping like that?”

Alex looked her dead in the eyes. “The baby’s not tolerating this. We’re not getting the contractions we need, and the oxygen’s not getting through properly anymore. We need to go to theatre. Now.”

Linda’s eyes filled with terror. “What? A C-section?”

“Yes,” Alex said firmly. “Immediately.”

“No...oh God...please” Linda gasped, clutching the sheet. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Alex hesitated for a fraction of a second, her professionalism battling the urge to just slap her across the face. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about getting the baby out alive.

She leaned closer, her voice low and level. “You should’ve let us do this an hour ago. But now isn’t the time to argue. Now’s the time to save your baby.”

Linda’s voice cracked as she grabbed Alex’s wrist. “Please. Please… just help her.”

Alex nodded, her hand surprisingly steady on Linda’s.

“I will,” she said, her voice softening. “We’re gonna look after both of you. She’s gonna be fine, alright? But we need to move. Right now.”

She turned toward the team. “We’re going to theatre. Let’s pre-op, get anaesthetics alerted. Category 1 C-section, this baby’s in distress. Let’s go!”

Within minutes, Linda was being wheeled down the corridor under the fluorescent lights, her hand still clutching the sheet, tears drying on her cheeks. Alex walked beside her, issuing quiet instructions to the team,

There wasn’t a second to lose, but Alex had her game face on now. One goal. One focus.

Get that baby out safely.

....

Inside the operating theatre, the atmosphere shifted in an instant. The usual hum of machinery and the crisp sound of sterile instruments clinking together filled the space as Alex walked inside, now fully gowned, gloved, and ready for action.

"Scalpel," she said holding out her hand, her voice tight but calm. The instrument was placed in her gloved hand without a word.

She cut into the lower abdomen with precision. The team moved swiftly, efficiently and familiar with the routine, though Alex couldn’t help but feel the edge of frustration prickling beneath her composure. This could have been avoided.

The monitors beeped steadily in the background, the baby's heartbeat erratic but still there, fragile. Come on, little one, we're almost there...Alex thought. Her hands worked with delicate urgency, her voice only rising for instructions.

"Make sure the suction's clear, I need full visibility," Alex ordered as she lifted layers of tissue.

The anaesthesiologist, standing by with the drug doses ready, shot a quick glance at her. “Heart rate’s still low, Doctor. Are we ready to move?”

Alex nodded, her jaw set. "Almost."

A few moments passed, and finally, with a sharp tug and the precise maneuver of her hands, Alex pulled the baby from its mother. The silence in the room was deafening for a split second before the cry rang out, the first breath of life.

A nurse quickly moved to check the baby’s vitals. "Heart rate's stable, oxygen levels good," she confirmed in what seemed like eternity.

Alex nodded, relief flooding through her. It wasn’t until the baby was stable and the breathing more regular that she allowed herself a breath.

But she wasn't done, she began to carefully close the incision. The stitching was routine, a task she’d done countless times, but her mind was still running a mile a minute.

Once done she walked up to Linda "You’re lucky, you know," Alex said quietly, her tone surprisingly calm now that the immediate danger had passed. "This could’ve gone a whole lot worse if you’d waited any longer."

Linda didn’t respond, her eyes still wide with the remnants of fear. She had been so defiant earlier, and Alex couldn’t help but feel a small amount of bitterness, even if she knew the woman’s panic was rooted in something deeper than just pride.

"Next time, don’t make me fight you for this, it wouldn’t be worth it." Alex muttered, though there was no malice in her voice.

"Thank you" Linda said quietly, her eyes lowering to the baby girl in her arms.

"Any time" Alex said softly, her eyes smiling with relief looking at the child. "Alright, let’s get her to recovery," she instructed.

She couldn’t help but look over at Linda one last time before the team wheeled her away. It was a battle she never knew she will have to fight, but winning it was worth every sting in her heart.

....

Alex walked into the house, the quietness settling around her as the morning sun bathed the living room and kitchen in a soft, golden light. She didn't linger, her mind still swirling with the chaos of the night shift. Dropping her bag onto the table, she made her way upstairs without a second thought.

A quick shower followed, the water helping to wash away the lingering tension. Once she’d changed into her pajamas, she walked into the bedroom, the curtains still drawn, the room dark except for the slivers of light creeping through. Yaz was still asleep, her soft breathing, the only sound in the room. As Alex approached the bed, two cats jumped down from the covers, rubbing against her legs, but she didn’t stop to pet them long. She only had one thing on her mind, bed.

Slipping under the covers, she spooned behind Yaz, savoring the warmth of her body and the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. Yaz stirred slightly, sensing her presence, and slid her hand down Alex’s arm, resting it on her waist.

With a groggy smile, she turned her head just enough to offer Alex a soft kiss. "Morning, love," she murmured. "You alright?"

"Yeah..." Alex mumbled, burying her face into Yaz's hair, the tension from the hospital still gnawing at her. She wanted to tell Yaz everything, the frustration, the anger, the hurt, but not now. Not yet. Right now, she just wanted to lose herself in the one person who loved her unconditionally, and that, for the moment, was enough.

....

On a Friday morning the corridors of the hospital were familiar, but today they felt different.

Yaz’s fingers twisted the strap of her bag as they stood outside the consultation room. She kept her eyes down, watching the polished tiles. Her stomach was in knots, tight, fluttering knots that no amount of logic or reassurance had managed to untangle.

Alex, standing beside her in her hospital ID lanyard and soft blue cardigan over her scrubs, leaned in gently. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing her knuckles over Yaz’s cheek. “You're doing amazing, okay? We’re just talking. Nothing scary today.”

Yaz nodded, forcing a smile. “I know. It’s just… weird. Coming here for this.”

Alex gave a short laugh. “Tell me about it. I’ve been on the other side of that desk a thousand times… never quite like this.” She stepped closer, cupping Yaz’s face lightly, her thumb brushing just under her eye. “We’re doing this together. That’s all that matters.”

Yaz leaned into the touch for a moment, then exhaled shakily.

Alex knocked once, then pushed the door open. Inside was a bright, softly lit room with a consultation desk and a familiar face.

“Hi, Alex,” said Dr. Priya Patel warmly, rising from her chair. “And you must be Yaz. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All lies,” Yaz said quickly, shaking her hand with a nervous smile.

“Come in, sit down.” Priya gestured to the chairs across from her desk. “Alex, you okay being here as a partner and not a doctor today?”

Alex gave a mock-salute. “Partner hat on, stethoscope off.”

Everyone smiled, tension easing just slightly.

Priya opened Yaz’s file. “So, I’ve reviewed the notes from your previous operation. It looks like you had a ruptured cyst on the right ovary and laparoscopic surgery to address it?”

Yaz nodded. “Yeah. They ended up having to remove it. Well… it was too damaged to save.”

Priya’s voice was calm and reassuring. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But your left ovary looks healthy on the scans we’ve got. You still have a very good chance of conceiving...especially with some help.”

Yaz’s eyes flicked to Alex, who gave her a soft nod. “That’s good to hear.”

Priya leaned forward slightly. “Tell me where you’re at emotionally. What’s brought you to want to start now?”

Yaz hesitated. “I think… at first, I wasn’t ready. I kept saying ‘someday,’ maybe when I’m more settled, or things slow down a bit. But after the surgery, it was like...dunno...it hit me I might not have all the time I thought I did. And I didn’t expect it, but I do want this. A baby. With her.” She looked at Alex with a smile

Alex reached over and gently laced their fingers together.

“I think,” Yaz added, voice softer, “I just don't wanna miss my chance. Not again.”

Priya nodded thoughtfully. “That makes complete sense. It’s very common for these experiences to shift how we feel about timing and planning. And I think it’s beautiful that you’re both aligned on this.”

She clicked into the next section on her computer. “So, based on your remaining ovary and age, we can start with some blood tests.... AMH, FSH, LH, all the usual to check ovarian reserve and hormone levels. I’d also recommend a transvaginal scan to assess antral follicle count.”

“And HSG?” Alex asked gently.

Priya smiled. “Yes. Good call, doctor. We’ll do a hysterosalpingogram just to be sure your fallopian tube on the left side is open and functional. Given the surgery, there’s a small chance of scarring or adhesions that we want to rule out before proceeding.”

Yaz nodded slowly, absorbing it all. “Okay. So… what happens after all that?”

“If everything looks good, we’d move toward a fertility treatment plan. Given Alex’s stored sperm, we have two main options...IUI or IVF."

"What’s the difference?" Yaz frowned

"IUI is less invasive and a bit gentler on your body...it’s basically timed insemination. IVF would be the stronger route if we find any challenges with your ovulation or tube, or if IUI fails after a few rounds.”

"You mean if I'm not pregnant?"

"Exactly..." She glanced at Alex. “And we’ll need to liaise with the storage facility to verify the sample and transfer it to our lab.”

Alex nodded. “I’ve already contacted them. Paperwork’s in progress.”

Yaz blinked “Of course it is.” she laughed

Alex grinned.

Priya looked between them kindly. “Any questions so far?”

Yaz bit her lip. “Just… how long does all this take?”

“Testing can take a few weeks. Then, depending on the cycle and results, we could potentially start treatment within a month or so, it all depeds.”

Yaz sighed in relief and nerves all at once. “Okay. That’s… doable.”

Priya offered a warm smile. “You’re doing brilliantly. This is the hard part...getting started. The rest, we’ll take one step at a time.”

....

As they left the consultation room and walked slowly down the corridor, Yaz clutched Alex’s hand.

“I still feel like I’m gonna vomit” she muttered.

“It's gonna be alright sweet pea” Alex said, pulling her in for a side hug. “Hey...we just officially started the rest of our life.”

Yaz glanced up at her. “Don’t get soppy on me now.”

Alex smirked. “Too late.”

....


The hum of the car was gentle, steady, soothing in the way white noise sometimes is. Outside, the May sun washed over the streets in a golden haze, casting soft shadows through the leafy trees. It was that rare kind of warm day when everything smelled faintly of flowers and pavement.

Yaz sat in the passenger seat, her jacket unzipped and a take-away coffee warming her hands, though she hadn’t taken a sip in a while. Alex was driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on Yaz’s thigh. She tapped her fingers occasionally, like a silent rhythm only she could hear.

They’d been quiet for a while, companionable silence, the kind you didn’t need to fill.

But inside Yaz’s head, it wasn’t silent at all.

She shifted slightly, then glanced over. “So… if all goes well, when could I actually be pregnant?”

Alex looked over, her face lighting up. “If the scans and bloodwork come back good, and they can time the cycle right… maybe even next month,” she said with a grin. “That’s not a guarantee, but it’s possible. Isn’t that wild?”

Yaz nodded slowly, giving a small, tight smile. “Yeah… yeah, that is wild.”

She turned back to the window.

The excitement in Alex’s voice echoed in Yaz’s ears, but it was like the joy got caught somewhere in her chest, tangled in thorns. Her heart was fluttering in a way she didn’t expect, not from thrill, but something more fragile. An ache.

She knew Alex was over the moon, she could feel it. Her wife was glowing, more relaxed than she’d seen her in weeks. For Alex, this was hope. The beginning of the dream she’d held onto for years. Yaz couldn’t bring herself to say the darker things out loud.

What if her body didn’t cooperate? What if the remaining ovary failed? What if she let Alex down?

She blinked hard, turning her face a little toward the window so Alex wouldn’t see the sting in her eyes.

God, she wanted this. She hadn’t realized how much until the consultant started talking about tubes and follicles and blood tests and Yaz’s heart had clenched with something that felt scarily like longing.

But under that was something else, terror.

Not just the fear of failing, but the fear of hurting. Of trying and then losing. Of the emotional devastation and what it could possibly do their relationship.

She bit her lip and glanced sideways at Alex, who looked impossibly calm as she drove, eyes on the road, expression soft.

Yaz forced a small smile. She didn’t want to ruin that light in Alex’s eyes. Not now. Not ever.

Alex’s hand stayed on Yaz’s thigh as she drove, but her eyes kept flicking over now and then, catching the way Yaz’s thumb rubbed nervously against the hem of her shirt, how her posture was just a little too still.

She didn’t push. She never did. But she knew her wife well enough by now to read the shifts the tiny tells Yaz probably thought she was hiding so well.

So, with her eyes still on the road, Alex spoke gently. “What if… instead of going straight home, we stop off at that little place you love? The one with the good hummus and the weird sparkling lemonade?”

Yaz glanced over, a little flicker of something sparking in her tired eyes.

Alex smiled. “And then maybe...if we’re feeling really wild, we can catch the cinema after?”

That did it. Yaz’s face lit up, her mouth tugging into a smile she hadn’t even realized she was holding back.

“Really?”

“Yap...” Alex brought their joined hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to Yaz’s knuckles, soft and deliberate. “You’re goona grow my heart in there. The least I can do is feed you and let you watch something with explosions.”

Yaz laughed, for real this time, shoulders relaxing, eyes brighter. “Alright. But you’re buying the popcorn.”

Alex grinned. “Only if I get the big tub. No take backs.”

.....

 

The sweet, buttery scent of popcorn filled the air as Alex stood at the counter, her eyes scanning the large, brightly lit menu overhead. Too many options. Sweet, salted, mixed, caramel, cheesy... and then there were the drink combos, the size upgrades, ice blasts, chocolate toppings... 

 

“Hiya, what can I get you?” the young girl at the till asked, sounding a bit distracted. 

 

Alex blinked, trying to quickly settle on something, but the choices blurred together. Her heart gave a tiny jump. 

 

“Uh… I, um...just...sorry, just one second,” she muttered, pushing her hair back with a flustered hand. 

 

The line behind her shuffled. The till girl tapped a finger on the screen. 

 

“Are you having the combo or just popcorn on its own?” she asked again, less friendly now. 

 

Alex swallowed. “I... I don’t know, I just… I didn’t really look, I thought I had time, sorry....” 

 

Her voice broke slightly, her accent tightening, and her words started tripping over each other. She hated this, this pressure over something so small and now her chest was tightening, and her cheeks were hot as the girl rolled her eyes slightly but enough to make things worse. 

 

Yaz stepped in gently, placing a hand on the small of Alex’s back. 

 

“She’ll have a large mixed popcorn and just water,” Yaz said calmly, with a warm smile toward the girl behind the counter. “And I’ll have the same but with Coke. That alright, love?” 

 

Alex let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She nodded silently, eyes still a little wide. 

 

“Thanks,” she whispered, more to Yaz than anyone else. 

 

Once they stepped away with their snacks, Yaz leaned close, brushing her shoulder softly against Alex’s. 

 

“You don’t have to rush just cause someone’s tapping their screen,” she murmured. “You’re not on a game show. Fuck them, they can wait.” 

 

Alex let out a small, embarrassed laugh, “I know. It just... gets loud in my head sometimes.” 

 

“I’ll be your volume control,” Yaz grinned squeezing her hand. "Oh...wait...I need to pee" 

 

.... 

 

The front door swung shut behind them with a soft clunk, still laughing at some scene from the movie they just watched. Yaz leaned her head back laughing. “Honestly, the look on your face” 

 

“I was emotionally invested in that scene!” Alex said, mock-defensive as she toed off her shoes. 

 

"You stopped blinking for twenty minutes" Yaz laughed 

 

"Cause I was in shock...That was not on my bucket list" 

 

They walked straight into the kitchen, Yaz flipping on the light with a lazy hand. Alex let out a theatrical groan and opened the fridge. “I’m starving.” 

 

Yaz leaned on the counter, one brow arched. “You having a laugh? What after inhaling half a mountain of popcorn?” 

 

“It’s like eating air,” Alex mumbled, already reaching for a leftover samosa box. “This is home food. Different category all together.” 

 

“Different category my arse,” Yaz snorted, stepping in to snatch the box from Alex’s hand, 

 

"Oi! Give it back" 

 

"Honestly...learn how to share your toys" Yaz giggled grabbing a piece, but Alex was quicker snatching it from her hand and shoving it into her mouth 

 

"Fucker!" Yaz playfully punched her shoulder with her fist. Alex just giggled enjoying in a bite. 

 

Yaz turned back to the box, but Alex was already behind her, arms snaking around her waist, body flush. “I can share, I’m pretty good at sharing” Alex whispered playfully, but her lips were trailing a very deliberate path along Yaz’s neck, leaving heat in their wake. 

 

Yaz shivered despite herself, biting her lip. “Seems like you’re hungry for something else.” 

 

“Can’t a woman multitask?” Alex murmured, nuzzling into that spot just below Yaz’s ear. Her hands, warm and curious, slid under the hem of Yaz’s jumper. “You’re warm. I like it here.” 

 

“No shit” Yaz said, but her voice was already breathier than she intended. “Is this you trying to seduce me with cold hands on my tits and a box of samosas?” 

 

“I’m versatile,” Alex grinned against her skin. 

 

Yaz squirmed in her arms, laughing, but not pulling away. “You’re horny...” 

 

“Tell me to stop then,” Alex murmured, fingers now resting at Yaz’s hips, thumbs brushing slow circles just beneath the waistband of her trousers. 

 

Yaz was quiet for a moment, a smug smirk tugging at her lips as she tilted her head back against Alex’s shoulder. “Not a chance.” 

 

Alex let out a low hum, her mouth brushing just below Yaz’s jaw now, teasing. “Didn’t think so.” 

 

The kitchen, still dim in the soft light, buzzed with that unspoken energy between them, playful, electric, and quickly becoming impossible to ignore. Yaz turned in Alex’s arms, their foreheads brushing, both grinning. 

 

“All talk no action,” Yaz teased, but her hands were already slipping under Alex’s shirt. 

 

“Oh, I'll give you action...” Alex whispered before kissing her, soft at first, then deeper, more urgent, like everything she’d been holding back all day had finally found its outlet. 

 

And Yaz? Yaz melted right into it. 

 

....

 

 

The bedroom was quiet except for their mingled breath and the soft rustle of sheets. Yaz lay back, her fingers weaving through Alex’s hair, nails lightly grazing her scalp. Her body arched in response to each kiss, every brush of Alex’s lips painting a trail of warmth over her skin. She whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed and completely in the moment. 

 

Alex’s hand found hers, lacing their fingers together in the sheets, grounding them both. The other hand explored, slow and sure, pulling Yaz closer with possessive grace. Yaz shifted, her leg sliding over Alex’s hip as their bodies tangled effortlessly. 

 

Alex returned to her mouth, hungry and deep, the kiss stealing the air from Yaz’s lungs. Yaz cupped her face, fingertips brushing over the bones of her cheeks before tangling again in her hair, holding her close, not letting her drift an inch away. 

 

Their rhythm built between gasps and soft moans, the tension between them igniting in waves as Alex’s hand found where Yaz ached for her most. The first touch drew a sharp gasp from her lips, her whole body pressing into it. 

 

“God… Alex…” she breathed, and that was all the encouragement Alex needed, slow becoming urgent, careful turning to consuming. 

 

And Yaz, Yaz gave herself over to it completely, to the woman who always knew how to reach her, hold her, worship her like no one else ever had. 

 

The room was filled with soft moans, warm skin against skin, the faint creak of bedsprings beneath the rhythm they built together. Moonlight spilled through a crack in the curtain, catching the golden strands of Alex’s hair as she leaned over Yaz, lips brushing her collarbone like a whisper only lovers speak. 

 

Yaz’s fingers curled tighter in Alex’s hair, her other hand gripping the sheets as her body arched into every kiss, every graze of fingertips that roamed with precision. Alex knew her, knew the way to kiss just below her ear to make her toes curl, the way to press her thumb gently into the hollow of her hip while her mouth left trails of fire lower. 

 

She took her time but never hesitated. Each movement deliberate, practiced, not out of routine, but reverence. Alex had mapped Yaz’s body like it was a prayer, like every inch of her mattered. Her hand slid down the inside of Yaz’s thigh, the pad of her finger tracing lazy circles before pressing in just right. Yaz let out a breathless gasp.

 

Their eyes met, dark, dilated, full of unspoken words. “There,” Yaz whispered, her voice cracking as she tilted her hips up, urging her closer, deeper, more. 

 

Alex bent to kiss her again, lips soft and parted, devouring each moan, catching them like treasures. Their bodies moved as if drawn together by some invisible force, an instinct older than thought. The air between them was electric, charged with devotion, desire, love so fierce it hurt in the best way. 

 

Yaz whispered her name like it was the only word she knew, her fingers digging into Alex’s back, pulling her closer, deeper, never wanting to let go. 

 

Everything slowed until all that remained was heat, heartbeat, breath, and the quiet kind of love that fills the silence like a promise. 

 

The world had gone still. 

 

Only the soft hum of the night and their slowing breath remained, the kind of silence that feels sacred. Yaz lay nestled against Alex’s chest, their legs tangled, bodies wrapped around each other like they were stitched from the same thread. Her fingers traced slow, aimless patterns over Alex’s shoulder, grounding them both. 

 

Alex’s face was half-buried in Yaz’s hair, her arms locked tight around her middle. The warmth of Yaz’s skin, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, it settled something deep inside her. A kind of calm she rarely let herself believe she deserved. 

 

“I don’t know what I’d be without you,” Alex whispered, her voice thick, lips brushing against Yaz’s temple. “I don’t think I’d survive it.” 

 

Yaz’s hand moved up to cradle the back of her head, her touch feather-light but full of devotion. “You don’t have to survive anything alone ever again” she murmured. “You hear me? Cause I'm bloody here and not going anywhere.” 

 

Alex blinked hard, a tear slipping sideways into Yaz’s hair. She didn’t speak, couldn’t. Just held her tighter. Yaz shifted slightly, cupping her face with both hands now, gazing at her like she was something rare and worthy of worship. 

 

“You’re mine, Alex,” she said softly. “And I love every piece of you...the brave bits, the soft ones, even the ones that try to run and hide. And that's all that matters baby...nothing else, and nobody else. Fuck them all.” 

 

Alex let out a broken little laugh, the kind people only make when they’re completely disarmed. She kissed Yaz’s wrist, then her palm, then leaned in until their foreheads met. 

 

“I don’t feel broken with you,” she whispered. "I just..." 

 

"You're not broken...they are" she whispered gently 

 

“I just feel… loved.” 

 

Yaz smiled, her thumb stroking the curve of Alex’s cheekbone. “That’s ‘cause you are....so fucking much.” she leaned in kissing her slow and gentle like she was made out of glass. 

 

They lay there a while longer, the dawn creeping slowly across the walls. Wrapped up in each other, in safety, in love that asked for nothing but gave everything. 

 

.....