his_sarah_jane: (sleeping)
Ill!Sarah for [livejournal.com profile] shot_his_shoes:

She knew beyond a doubt that she would not make it. The poison from the cybermat was filling her veins, making them bulky, filling them with a metallic sheen that almost seemed to block the flow of blood to her body. It makes it hard for her to breath. The scream had been the last real thing she had been able to do, aside from fall off the chair while fighting the creature.

By the time the Doctor pulled it off of her, her vision was splotchy. Black dots danced around her face. His features, typically much sharper and angular, appeared blurred. Sarah was barely aware of him picking her up and carrying her away from the room. A wave of dizziness overtook her.

Voices now. That was all she could hear. Something was wrong with the transmat drive. The Doctor sounded furious.

“Let me be the doctor this time, Doctor.” Harry. His voice sounded so close and yet so very far away. Something cold pressed against her skin. “We need to get it out of her system. Come on, old girl, hang in there.”

Vaguely, she was aware of being turned on her side. “Somebody get me water! Something! Doctor, do you have--”

The voice sounded so mournful. “No.”

Sarah blinked, tried to wake up from the coma she was slipping in to. “Doctor. Harry. It was--”

“Save your voice, Sarah,” Harry whispered. “He’ll fix it soon enough. And you’ll be okay. Until then, I’m going to try to induce vomiting. Got it, old girl?”

“Don’t.” She coughed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sarah?” The Doctor’s voice. “Sarah Jane, I will never forgive you if you do not fight this.”

Neither of them had any idea how hard it was, how difficult it was to hang on. The darkness was overwhelming and the pain far too much. She knew, without a doubt, that the Doctor would not fix the transmat machine in time. She knew Harry’s efforts would not work. This, she knew, was the end of her journey. It had been a good one.

Sarah let go.
his_sarah_jane: (writing)
105. TEN things you would leave to your loved ones (and who they are) when you die.

1. [Milliways] To my dearest James, I would leave all my possessions to do with as you please. I would hope more than anything that you would keep my wedding band and engagement ring to remember what we once had. However, I am praying that my life with you will be just as it is in the movies: long lives for the both of us, seeing Valerie grow and find a family of her own, and that happy ending we both deserve.

2. [Milliways] To Valerie, my darling daughter, I don’t care how old you are when I pass, but more than anything I want you to have the stuffed owl my father gave me. It’s one of my most treasured possessions, aside from you and your daddy, of course. I’d also want you to have my TARDIS key and remember that not everything you read in a fictional novel is, indeed, fictional.

3. [Milliways] Sam: my death was not James’ fault so don’t you dare go blaming him for it. If Valerie ever comes into bar, I’m trusting you to look after her. In fact, I’ll leave you my camera as a sign of good will. Use it well, eh?

4. [Canon] Doctor, take care of K-9, will you? He’s been an amazing friend all these years. Thank you for leaving him to me. Also, make sure Mr Smith doesn’t cause any havoc please.

5. [Canon] My aunt passed on to me her home and I want to pass it on to you, Luke. I never thought I would have a son, let alone one as brilliant as you have been. I know you will take care of all those daft alien gadgets I have lying around. You’ll always make me proud.

6. [Canon] Maria: I want you to take the alien communicator the Starpoet gave me. I hope it’ll aid you in your own adventures some day.

7. [Canon] I guess I didn’t make it, did I Harry? Tell my aunt that I was working as a journalistic correspondent for UNIT and died well. If I can trust anyone to do that job, it’s you. The Doctor’ll probably just leave my body where it is. I never pictured him for the sentimental type. See that my belongings in my South Croydon flat are taking care of? And keep the typewriter for yourself. It’s an antique, but still works quite well. She’s always served me well, at least.

8. [Twood Hub, future] Ewan, leman, I know you’ll outlive me. I know that you will find new loves after me. But I do hope that you won’t ever forget me. There are so many things I could leave you – most of my belongings as you (and our children) are the closest I have to family here. I would, however, specifically leave to you keep that necklace you gave me after the twins were conceived.

9. [Twood Hub] Gethin Jones, if my death is any way connected to you, I’m coming back and haunting you. That aside, you see, you’ve become one of my best mates here in Torchwood. So I want you to have that strange looking burnt golden plant sitting on my desk. It’s from Delta Upsilon Nine. I tried to leave it with the Doctor, but he insisted he was better off alone. Talk to it; you’ll be surprised.

10. [Twood Hub] You took me in when I had been left behind, gave me a new career that eventually led me back to the one I adore, and introduced me to the man I love. I don’t know how to ever repay you, Jack, for everything that you’ve done. It’s been some life working for you. Thank you. In my flat, I have a thickly bound first edition copy of the Sherlock Holmes adventures. We went back to visit Arthur years after our first encounter and he presented it to me as a thank you for the inspiration. Enjoy, will you?
his_sarah_jane: (bright grin)
1. Make a list of the gifts that you would give to other people, if money and power were no object.

[ooc: Individuals mentioned from a variety of different games/verses/what have you. Point is? They are all individuals on her friends list that Sarah has gifts in mind for.]

[livejournal.com profile] born_running: A trip about the galaxy, completely danger free and preferably with the Doctor and K-9 joining us.

[livejournal.com profile] callitavesper: What do you give the man who has given you something as precious as a daughter, a husband and a proper family? I wish I could give you everything your heart desired. In the end, I think the only gift I can give you is the promise that I will always, always be there for you. I love you. And, materialistically? It would most certainly be a framed photograph of our family.

[livejournal.com profile] clever_wanderer: I think a box of tissues might be appropriate, considering all the crying I seem to do around you. But any gift? I’d find some way to fix the TARDIS for you. I know you aren’t happy with the way she’s acting right now. I just… oh, I wish I could make everything right for you.

[livejournal.com profile] cocky_cockney: Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus. :D?

[livejournal.com profile] coffeekingianto: A pretty little China teapot and some Darjeeling tea. If that doesn’t convince you of tea’s value, I honestly don’t know what will.

[livejournal.com profile] eleventh_doctor: I think you need a bright pink teddy bear that says best mum. You certainly can be to Luke when you want to.

[livejournal.com profile] exiled_prof: Perhaps… oh, if I could give you anything? It might just be a child.

[livejournal.com profile] gethin_jones: An extra helmet for whenever he’s not alone on his bike.

[livejournal.com profile] hapan_heiress: A shopping spree at Hamley’s.

[livejournal.com profile] i_heart_winona: A weapon good enough to replace Wynonna.

[livejournal.com profile] izzie_mcphee: Most definitely a good pair of running shoes.

[livejournal.com profile] j_harkness11: I think I may just be willing to offer to babysit at some point so you and Ianto can enjoy some time alone.

[livejournal.com profile] londonsdaughter: A practical guide on how to travel with the Doctor, complete with illustrations on how to best thwack him when not listening. It’ll quite possibly be written by yours truly, if you don’t mind, Donna.

[livejournal.com profile] lost_a_hand: Not quite the best gift in the universe, but a banana milksahke and the promise to be the best companion I ever can from this point out. This time, I’m not giving you any reason to leave me behind.

[livejournal.com profile] lovetolongago: Another kiss. Or, if not, a trip for two to this new Earth we’ve found ourselves on.

[livejournal.com profile] ninewho: A silly Hawaiian shirt, the tackier the better. You need some sort of colour to brighten up your wardrobe.

[livejournal.com profile] not_on_her_own: I know the perfect gift for you, Maria: a leather bound journal so you can start some writings of your own.

[livejournal.com profile] not_tindog: A K-9 unit of your very own. Someone like you ought to have one.

[livejournal.com profile] notanarc: My prized typewriter. I need to give it up sometime, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather give it to than a fellow journalist and a wonderful friend.

[livejournal.com profile] queenofmay: It may be a children’s book, but I think it might give you some insight to what women of both the modern world and the past are quite capable of: Lives of Extraordinary Women. And another book, Literature of the Women’s Suffrage Campaign in England. I do hope you find both useful.

[livejournal.com profile] rude_not_ginger: I think that, perhaps, I would want to get you a kitten. I have very fond memories of rather enjoying my time with a kitten who had your personality, after all.

[livejournal.com profile] shot_my_shoes: Your own little yacht. Then, if you wanted, you could have your own travels to gloat about someday.

[livejournal.com profile] slasherofprices: If I could control such matters, it would be another chance at life and this time with me and Luke in the picture.

[livejournal.com profile] thecricketer: Would you fancy a new cricket set? I’d even be willing to throw in a game or two with you, if you promise to make the odds more interesting. Say, winner has to treat the other to trip of his or her choice?

[livejournal.com profile] thedoctorwho: A part of me wishes that I could give you my promise that I’ll never do anything to make you cross again, but I know that isn’t true. So it would have to be a photograph I took one day when you were lounging about Milliways. So that you remember that you can always visit me here.

[livejournal.com profile] toshtosh: One of the Doctor’s old sonic screwdrivers.

[livejournal.com profile] velvetdoc: Some silly gizmo that you could have fun playing with. I wouldn’t understand it at all, of course, but I’m certain you’d try to explain to me anyway.

[livejournal.com profile] walkineternity: I would work up the courage to give you the absolute and honest truth about how much I adore you.

[livejournal.com profile] works_in_space: Most certainly another trip to James’ London.
his_sarah_jane: (internal debate)
2. You've just had one of the most grueling days of your life when you stumble upon a wishing well. While you don't typically believe in such things, you need a pick-me-up. So you toss a penny down the well and make a wish. Lo and behold, it comes true.

Sarah Jane didn’t think she could take it anymore. As much as she adored travelling with the Doctor, as much as she adored him, after the past week – after Sontaran mind experiments and never ending wars and poison and Cybermen – she couldn’t take it anymore. The Doctor promised them a reprise. The Brigadier needed them back on Earth. First, he said, they’d go to a very peaceful and very safe (“oh, I doubt that!”) planet that he often liked to visit. Show Harry the perks of being a travelling companion in the TARDIS.

Perhaps he was right about this place. On the whole, it reminded Sarah of some giant market out of Arabian Nights. There were men and women trying to sell her exotic goods at every turn. Animals she had never seen before. Peoples she had never seen before. It was enchanting. The wishing well she found in the center of town even more so.

She never believed much in wishes growing up. As a child, Sarah would wish on star after star for her parents to be alive. It never came true. She always woke up in her aunt’s house on Bannerman Road in Ealing, alone and orphaned. So, at some point, she had stopped believing in wishes and dreams coming true all together.

But after the week she had, after being tortured and enslaved and poisoned, Sarah Jane was almost tempted to be that naïve seven year old who had wanted her wish to come true. Wishes never came true. So it there would be no harm in acting foolish just for a few seconds.

She closed her eyes, fished a penny out from her trouser pocket and tossed it in. “I wish Mum and Dad never died.”


It had been another night of strange dreams. )

[ooc: some scenarios mentioned roughly based upon role play games sj is in: [livejournal.com profile] milliways_bar, [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub, and [livejournal.com profile] relativespace.]
his_sarah_jane: (life or death moment)
Blind leading the blind.

"You don't know where you're going, do you?"

She didn't bother waiting for an answer. Sarah Jane turned her head to look at the lager behind them. Harry Sullivan quite possibly looked even more out of place in the thick tropical jungle than either she or the Doctor. What bits of his pale skin showed was slick with sweat and his navy uniform was clinging to his body. He had since lost the white cap: a spiny vine had claimed it. When she had stopped walking, Harry had immediately done the same. He crouched now, hands on thighs as he breathed in the damp air.

Sarah quirked an eyebrow "Harry?"

"Don't ask me, old girl. I've never been here before in my life."

Of course he hadn't. This was the Doctor's zany idea, after all. She turned back to face the man (completely oblivious to the heat, his companions's discomfort, and the oppressing jungle around them). Unlike Sarah and Harry, whom he had told had to dress up, he wore his usual trench coat, fedora, and unusually long scarf. He claimed that, as a returning guest, he had no need to dress to impress. Sarah Jane and Harry, however, were new comers to the planet. And to show their curtsy, were required (by Gisian law, the Doctor claimed) to dress in their very best. So while Harry got to tromp around in a dress uniform, Sarah was in an actual bloody dress. Normally, she wouldn't object (she did like looking her best, after all). Right now though:

The Doctor failed to mention they had a long hike ahead of them.

"Oh! Doctor! Stop!"

It took a few seconds, but finally, he turned around. He regarded Sarah with distant curiosity, as if he couldn't figure out why she was so angry. Sarah shook her head, close to glaring at him. Her hands closed into fists as she closed the difference, storming away from Harry to the Doctor. She stopped half a meter in front of him - close enough to talk without needing to shout and far enough that she wouldn't try taking a swing at him.

"Do. You. Have. Any. Bloody. Idea. Where. We're. Going?" she asked slowly, almost spelling out each and every word.

They had been walking for hours. The number of scratches on her face and arms, she was certain, was incredible. There were small tears in what she had once considered one of her better outfits - a light blue and yellow sundress completely unfit for this trek. Her own hat (a flowery sort of thing) had been lost alongside Harry's. Sarah Jane was fed up.

The Doctor blinked innocently. For a moment, Sarah was convinced that he was going to protest. Of course he knew where they were going, he was the Doctor, he knew everything! Oh, how she'd lay into him if he said such a falsity right now. There was fury in her eyes. She and Harry were exhausted: didn't he realise that? Didn't he realise that they were completely and utterly lost on an alien jungle planet where some daft alien creature might eat them any moment?

If there was any case of the blind leading the blind, she was certain that this was it.

"Doctor," she repeated again, trying to take a calming breath. "You couldn't have parked the TARDIS closer?"

He shook his head. It was clear: the Doctor was puzzled by Sarah's behaviour. He ran a hand through his thick head of curls and looked back at Sarah. "Why would I?"

"Well, it seems to me that we're quite lost," Harry spoke up. In the past minute, he had caught his breath enough to walk next to Sarah. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to prevent her from doing anything rash. "At least, I'm certain that's what Sarah thinks to."

Surprisingly enough, the Doctor simply laughed in response. "Lost, you say? Oh, Sarah! Harry! Why didn't you say so in the beginning? We're not lost - far from it, you see. I told you we were hear to great the Gisians, didn't I?"

Sarah nodded slowly. "Your point, Doctor?"

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. Oh my Sarah Jane. Don't you know by now that not all species come in humanoid structure?"

Now it was Harry's turn to blink with confusion. "Eh? What was that?"

The Doctor waved gallantly around them. He nearly spun with joy, a manic smile painting his features. The scarf whipped at branches and leaves fluttered. He laughed. Sarah and Harry only stared in shock.

"Harry Sullivan, Sarah Jane Smith - I would like you to meet a forest filled of some of my dearest friends. They saved me in an awful time of strife, oh years and years ago. I owe them much. Thus, I only thought it fitting to introduce them to some of my newer dearest friends: the Gisians. They've been all around, watching us all this time."

"You mean to say," Harry began slowly.

Angrily, Sarah interrupted. She took a step closer and swatted at the tall man's arm. She caught him in mid spin and the scarf wrapped around her waist. She protested angrily, glaring at him. "Doctor!"

Around them, the trees were laughing.
his_sarah_jane: (flirty)
070. TEN kisses.

1. Paul McCrimmon: He was my first ‘romantic kiss’. I was four and he was six and we lived next door to each other in Liverpool. He kissed me. And then I kicked him into the mud. Mum didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. Paul did, though: he laughed and, after standing, pushed me in to the mud as revenge.

2. Andrew Lofts: He was my first proper boyfriend and my first proper fiancée. Our first kiss was at a party my first year at uni. For a short time, it was the start of a terrific relationship. Sadly, I cannot say the same to its ending.

3. Harry Sullivan: Kisses with him have always been of the utmost platonic manner. We were never meant to be anything more than friends, even if I do expect him of carrying a short torch during our times travelling together.

4. If I could remember one thing from my childhood, it would be what hugs and kisses from my parents were like. I knew they loved me, I can remember that much. But the memory of their touch has been long lost in the past few years.

5. The Doctor (Four): It might be silly, but I prefer his hugs more than anything else. There is certainly something about being wrapped up in his arms, the way I always feel dwarfed and safe when he does. I know perfectly well that a woman does not need a man to feel safe. I am, after all, a steadfast believer in this idea. But there’s something about the Doctor, about his awkward kisses and warm hugs, which always seems to do the trick. (Theatrical Muse)

6. James Bond: Our first kiss took me by surprise. I didn’t suspect for a moment that James harbored feelings for me. I didn’t ever suspect that, when I cornered him in our shared flat to discover just why he was being so cold, he would kiss me in response. I never suspected how much I’d bloody enjoy that kiss or what it would lead to.

But my favorite kiss with him will always be the one he gave me after Valerie was born. It was brief – perhaps the briefest of all due to our mutual desire to watch our baby sleep – but it was promising. It was tender and loving and apologetic. It was beautiful. (Milliways.)

7. Valerie Bond: Holding and kissing your baby for the first time, knowing she’s real and yours – there’s nothing else like it. (Milliways.)

8. Simon Skinner: I don’t know if we quite knew what we were doing. I sometimes suspect that we still don’t know what we’re doing. It’s absolutely daft, considering our ages – we’re far too old to be having a fling like this. Even if it has become love, I still don’t know if it is wise. But, at the moment, I couldn’t imagine having anyone else fill his place in my life. (Mixed Muses.)

9. Sam Linnfer: Really isn’t what you’d expect. (Milliways.)

10. James Bond: It was Christmas time in Milliways and we got caught under the mistletoe together. For the record: it meant nothing. We’re only friends. I am married, after all. That doesn’t change the fact that, like my husband, he certainly knows what he’s doing when it comes to such matters. (Milliways.)

Muse: Sarah Jane Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
his_sarah_jane: (his girl friday)
Write two letters: One to someone you hurt and the other to someone who hurt you.

It's late and dark out, and the only light illuminating her room is the small desk lamp near the typewriter. Sarah stares at a blank sheet for minutes before she finally sighs, wipes away a stray tear, and begins to type:

December 26, 1984


I am truly, truly sorry about last night. I never meant for things to get that far, or to pull away from you when it did. Oh, rereading that makes it sound like a line in a stupid romance novel and I really don’t mean it to be. It’s the truth, Harry. That’s all it’s supposed to be. That holiday party at UNIT lasted way too long, and well, we both let our inhibitions slide, didn’t we? And I—

Well, I suppose kissing you wasn’t that horrid. It was fun, it really was. You’re far from horrible at this, no matter what you might have claimed beforehand. It’s me that’s all mixed up. I guess – I haven’t told anyone this and I suppose I might as well. After all, given last night you probably have a right to know. I think I fell in love with him, our friend with the barmy scarf. And I honestly don’t ever think any man can compare.

I hurt you again, didn’t I? Oh, Harry, I really didn’t mean to. I still don’t. It’s just flipping difficult, as I’m sure you’re well aware of. Maybe…maybe I just need time to work things out.

I’m just sorry. About last night and about this and about everything, Harry. You deserve more than someone who still cares too much for a man that she’ll never see again. But perhaps, oh can we try with some time? I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again, but I’ll certainly try not to.


The letter is folded and a name and an address are written on the outside of the page. Then, after minutes of debate, another sheet is inserted for a letter she knows will never get delivered. It's shorter, but for Sarah Jane, it's wholly easier to write.

December 26, 1984


I feel rather ridiculous saying this, and take some comfort in the fact that you’ll probably never see this letter. I wish you’d come back. It’s been almost two years now and you still haven’t returned. I learned some things tonight, things that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to share with you.

You see, there was this one man. I travelled with him for a while. And he hurt me more than my heart ever thought was possible.

his_sarah_jane: (the travelling trio)
“Oof!” The Doctor’s hat falls forward on her head, the brim covering Sarah’s eyes shortly after she collides with a taller and broader body that had been walking in the opposite direction just seconds ago. After taking a few seconds to steady herself, one hand pushing up on the hat as the other clutches the strip of photographs in her hand. When a face comes in to focus, she scoffs. “Harry Sullivan, what are you doing here?”

“I could be asking you the same thing,” comes the reply, as Harry readjusts the scarf around his neck. “The Doctor sent me to find you when you hadn’t shown up and – I say, what’s that you’ve got there, old girl?”

Sarah Jane blinks and looks down at the paper in her hand and flushes lightly despite herself. Oh, what had she been thinking, walking into the TARDIS holding the only piece of evidence of her latest trip to Milliways? In her defence, it wasn’t as if she had thought she would encounter anyone between this door and her room, thinking she’d have just enough time to hide the photographs under her pillow before rushing to meet up with the Doctor and Harry in the console room. It never quite seems to work that way, she realizes now, as her face grows stern.

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing, Harry. Least of all any of your business.”

He shakes his head, taking a step forward and tilting his head to try to get a better view of the strip. Harry’s eyes narrow and as he stretches a hand forward, Sarah pulls hers back closer towards her chest. The action does nothing but increase the suspicion in his eyes. “Is that a bloke in those pictures, Sarah?”


“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone,” he interrupts, and for a moment there Sarah thinks she sees a slightly crestfallen look on his face. But surely that’s in her imagination, eh? “Not with… well, I guess I just never really considered it.”

At that, she sighs, taking one last look at the picture strip – of hers and James’ smiling faces and his attempts to kiss her neck in one of the photographs and that one in which his face is filled with nothing but shock – before burying it in the pocket of her blue blazer. Letting out another breath, she looks up at Harry with all seriousness.

“It’s. It’s something that started just recently and please don’t mention this to anyone, especially the Doctor,” Sarah Jane starts, suddenly feeling very foolish. Not mention to the Doctor? That was a rather daft thing to say, wasn’t it? Why did she even—She shook the thoughts away. There were too many, and as strange as it felt to be back from her extended stay in Milliways, it didn’t feel strange at all. “

So it is back to the reasoning. “I don’t want to give him any reason not to let me tag along on his travels, you see. And James, well, he knows I’ll be gone sometimes and he--” He is grinning. Harry is grinning at her. Sarah stops mid-sentence and stares. “Harry! I don’t see anything funny about this situation.”

He chuckles, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me, old girl. Although, I would like to meet the chap someday. I didn’t see much by those photographs of yours, but he looks like a decent enough fellow. If I’m going to be keeping quiet, I want to make sure.”

“Harry, I don’t need you to protect me,” Sarah says with a sigh. It’s easier than admitting that he’ll probably never meet James. It’s a rather strange image that pops into her head, trying to imagine Harry in a place like Milliways. Best not to. “As I’ve shown time and time again, I’m perfectly capable of--”

“Ah, but you’re jumping to conclusions, Sarah. I’m only saying this as your friend, no injury meant at all to your aptitudes,” he answers with a humorous tone in his voice. It makes her smile softly, chuckling softly at the absurdity of this whole conversation. In the middle of the TARDIS no less, where just about anyone could—

“And what’s this? The two of you having a chat without me when the Brigadier so direly needs me?”

Of course. Today was just the day for interruptions. Harry’s hand drops immediately back to his side and Sarah looks up at the Doctor innocently, quickly pushing aside all thoughts of Milliways. She’ll have time to dwell on them later. Right now, she is here for a reason after all. Which includes laughing at the Doctor’s choice of wardrobe (especially that silly plaid hat), something she had managed to forget in the past few weeks.

“Come on, get a move on,” the Doctor barked, pointing a finger down the hallway. “There is absolutely nothing amusing about this, Sarah Jane. The Brigadier better have a good enough reason to drag us two hundred and seventy million miles to clean up his mess. Let’s hop to it, shall we?”

There’s shared amusement as Sarah falls in step behind Harry and the Doctor marches them outwards and in to Scottish countryside, far from any nearby highway. After laughter is silenced with another mock-serious glare from the Doctor, he pulls out a device to guide them to a road (or so he hopes, Sarah can’t help but think).

Steps later, after a fortuitous car ride by the serious looking and rather medieval thinking Duke of Forgill, they reach the inn in which UNIT has set up camp. It’s after the Duke bids his farewell and Sarah Jane and the Doctor finally stop teasing Brigadier Lethbridge-Steward for his kilt that answers for their return are finally obtained:

“Doctor, the destruction of these rigs is a complete mystery. Do you want more men to die?”
his_sarah_jane: (surprised)
It doesn’t seem like Earth at all. There weren’t any pigeons at Trafalgar Square, and oh, it was just so quiet. Grass and plants and absolutely no remains of any buildings. It’s empty and abandoned, and even with Harry beside her Sarah’s a little bit frightened. Not that she’d ever let him know, of course. But it is empty. This Earth is just too empty.

She follows Harry (well, mostly follows seeing as Sarah is too busy constantly looking around her to keep up with her friend) on a trail leading off further away from the Doctor. It’s peaceful, she’ll give it that. Certainly not the London she knows…a London that is dead now for twenty-odd centuries. She gets a chill from that thought, suddenly realising just how far away from home they were. It’s not at all what Sarah Jane had imagined. No, not at all.

“Hey Sarah, come and have a look at this.”

She turns around just in time to see Harry stumble and fall down – down something! Sarah runs forward, no longer looking at her surroundings and shouts after him. She stops at the edge of the cliff, kneels, and looks down at…

…oh, oh Harry! “Harry, are you alright?”

But he doesn’t look alright. He looks unconscious and oh, she does hope it’s only a lack of conscious and not something far worse. For a few seconds, Sarah is frozen with fear, praying that the UNIT doctor wasn’t dead.

Oh Harry!

Sarah Jane beams when she sees him get up, rubbing at his head and quickly examining for no broken bones. Oh, he’s such a man, isn’t he? To tumble forth like that, not at all watching his step. Typically, though, Sarah thought Harry was one of the more thoughtful ones. Old fashioned, yes, but still thoughtful. But…wait, what’s that?

On closer examination, Sarah notices all the twigs. Those twigs right at the edge of the pit, covering the hole with their careful arrangement. Her eyes narrow as she picks up one with a gloved hand to study. This isn’t normal, no. This isn’t right at all. “Harry, the edge of the whole has been covered!”

Oh god, this is far from right for an abandoned planet!

And that, of course, leaves Sarah Jane Smith with one option, doesn’t it?

The Doctor wasn’t there though. The Doctor wasn’t there and only his sonic screwdriver was and no matter how hard Sarah yelled for him, there was no answer. He was gone. Vanished or abducted or worse. And when she had returned to the pit, she had discovered Harry was gone too.

It had scared her – positively and absolutely frightened her. Here she was, stranded on some alien (well, Earth or not it was far enough in to the future to seem alien to her!) planet dressed in a bright yellow rain slicker and trousers, with orange boots and a bright blue hat. Why, she was a walking advertisement for these things (abductors) to come get her next! This…this really wasn’t turning out to be such a good day now after all.

And now, now she had been abducted herself. But that…that’s an overstatement, she realises shortly enough when this odd sound, definitely not human, fills the air. There’s something nearby, and judging by how still her captor is right now, it’s probably not something good either. After the noise goes away, the man releases her and explanations and introductions are made quickly enough.

Or, at least, introductions are. His name is Roth and he’s a spaceman, given the clothing he’s dressed in, and he’s very, very frightened of the odd noise – machine. And an alien in the rocks.

An alien, Sarah Jane realises a half hour later after being captured alongside Roth, that’s all too familiar.


But how had that Sontaran survived his spaceship exploding? Oh, whatever the reason, Sarah thinks as she stands there gaping, the Doctor had better recover from his fall into that same pit into which Harry had disappeared. She and Roth are going to need him.

And soon!
his_sarah_jane: (the travelling trio)
Sarah’s in a bright mood when she walks out of the TARDIS back into the ark. Now well rested after her extended stay in Milliways, she’s more eager than ever to go with the Doctor to this 31st century Earth. An Earth wrecked by solar flares far off in her future…oh, how exciting!

Her small camera gets stuffed into a pant pocket as she races down the hall of the TARDIS, hearing the Doctor shout her name. Oh, the impatient man! But oh, how she had missed him. How she had missed this -- the knowledge and anticipation of another adventure about to begin instead of simply dosing her days around writing and reading. She grins brightly as she passes by Harry in the ark.

“Coming,” she chimes, running in to the control room as she pulls on one sleeve of her yellow raincoat. “Here’s your coat.”

Sarah Jane rushes up to the Doctor and holds out his coat (black and rather plain) for him, helping him dress. He grunts a thank you when she hands him the TARDIS key and walks over to one of the transmat stands, next to the Doctor’s. Harry’s on the other side, and there’s a quick wink over at him while she pulls on her hat.

The Doctor looks back and forth between them. “I don’t remember inviting you two.”

Of course he doesn’t. But honestly, he should know better by now. Sarah’s briefly reminded of that last conversation she had with James before leaving, and she grins, tilting her head towards the Doctor.

“Uh, no. You didn’t. But here we are.” It’s completed with a smile.

Harry adds in his own excuse and the Doctor shrugs, throwing Vira his bags of Jelly Babies before she feels the tingle of the transmat beam and---


Oh, that had hurt. That had hurt dreadfully. By the mouthful of dirt and the smell of non-processed air, not to mention the fact that she appears to be no longer standing, Sarah Jane Smith knows she’s not on Nerva anymore. She can faintly hear Harry and the Doctor talk from somewhere in the distance (maybe over that hill – is that a hill?) and she wants them to come and dig her out of this mess.

So she does the one thing she can only think of as she kicks her legs back and forth above the pit. Sarah Jane screams for help.

It’s a good thing only Harry and the Doctor are around. She doesn’t know how she’d otherwise live down this one.

“Help!” she screams again, trying her hardest to get out from this pit. Finally, she can make out a pair of hands above her and she grabs hold, grunting as she stands. Oh, that did hurt. There’s a sharp pain in her back, but she still smiles, relieved to finally be on two feet again.

“Okay old thing?”

He’s still calling her that. Sarah had almost forgotten, what with all that time spent in Milliways the past couple of weeks. She sighs, still smiling, and looks at him. “Harry, I’m not a thing.”

But then they’re off to see what the Doctor’s up to (after another moment of awkward conversation – honestly, Harry). It’s still slightly painful to walk, but finally, Sarah runs ahead as the last of the pain in her back dissipates. She stops in front of the Doctor, and giving in to a whim of playfulness, Sarah pulls the flap of her hat down and stares at him while she clears her throat.

Oh, that Doctor. Too caught up in his own work to notice her stranded in that pit! Well!

Oh, she’s looking well. So maybe he did notice her after all. Sarah beams at Harry with an unspoken ‘I told you so’. The Doctor would pause in his work to notice her after all. It makes her happy, that is until the Doctor suggests that she and Harry push off. So much for a break from his work. Devices and technology are interesting, but only to a degree. So she goes off, trailing behind Harry.

…wait, what was that about Trafalgar Square?
his_sarah_jane: (grin)
Talk about a memorable (or unexpected) kiss at a holiday party.

The Brigadier was drunk on eggnog. Over in a corner, the Doctor conversed with a second lieutenant while he attempted to pull glitter out of his scarf. Couples danced to “Merry Christmas Everybody” and the lights of the mess hall twinkled in the setting sun. All of the British division of UNIT was in a merry mood tonight, enjoying the holiday season and the lack of alien threat (for the moment anyway).

Sarah Jane watched the festivities from a table, laughing brightly when the Brigadier began to sing along with “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.” It was simply marvellous to just relax and enjoy life for a change, with absolutely no fear of what was to happen next. Her hands tangled themselves in a red ribbon left on the table from someone’s Christmas wrapping. Her own gift (from the Doctor) sat proudly on her head – a Victorian velvet cap with a purple ribbon wrapped around the inner brim.

“Oh Brig!” Sarah cried in delight, clapping her hands as he finished his rendition of the song. “Bravo!”

She got up from the table to walk over to the Brigadier, but barely made it five paces before a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and lips descended on hers. She blinked in surprise and tried to move, but the hands held her firmly in place. The lips caressed hers one more time (a good kiss, Sarah Jane noted, despite her irritation) before one of the hands let go and reached to take something off her cap.

“Got a sprig of mistletoe on there, old girl,” Harry said, smiling down at her.

Her fingers went to her lips, as if they could feel the kiss still there, as she put two and two together. A sprig of… Oh! Oh! Oh, that was absolutely horrible! And he! Oh!


He chuckled, still grinning rather like a school boy. “Yes Sarah?”

“Why you…oh! Men!” Sarah stomped her foot and slapped his arm before looking in the direction of the Doctor, oblivious to all of this. Someone must have put the mistletoe there, after all.

“I’d rather like to think I deserved that. Call me old fashioned, but I still believe mistletoe on the holidays warrants a proper kiss.”

He was smug. Utterly and completely smug and it drove Sarah to distraction. Then, and idea came to her and she smiled sweetly at Harry. It was a dangerous smile, and she was certain that Harry knew it. But really, how did he ever think he would… oh!

“Is that so?”

Harry nodded, looking at her with the beginnings of concern. “Now, don’t go getting any ideas here, old girl. It was just holiday fun.”

“Was it really? Well, you see, turnabout is always fair play. I fancy it’s time that you were the one getting kissed, Harry Sullivan.” She winked at the expression that crossed the medic’s face and held in a laugh. “Now, just close your eyes for a moment.”

That was the thing with Harry – he always respected her word. He smiled at her again and did so, while Sarah looked around the table for just the thing to do the trick. Ah, there we go.

“Happy Christmas Harry,” she whispered in to his ear, and then crushed the Christmas pudding she had found into his face. Sarah laughed at the expression of disbelief that followed as Harry tried wiping the desert from his eyes. “Happy Christmas.”

Muse: Sarah Jane Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 572
his_sarah_jane: (her doctor)
When Sarah wakes up again, she’s in another room all together. It’s not the control room that the Doctor and Harry had left her in, lying on the couch, but a room filled with what appears to be, well, human caskets! And there’s and Harry helping her out, both rather happy to see her. There’s someone else in here too, a woman with short hair (Vira, she finds out) watching them converse, and the Doctor’s no where in sight.

Everything is explained soon enough. The giant insect lying on the floor isn’t from Earth – it’s an alien that got onboard while the Arc’s inhabitants were asleep, and was the cause of all this trouble. But that isn’t everything, as she soon finds out. The alien left larvae, larvae still currently on the ship.

When Sarah and Harry finally find the Doctor, he’s unconscious. “Doctor!” Sarah screams, running up to him and falling down on her knees in concern. But then he wakes up and she laughs, relieved. Quickly, they’re off on a hunt for Noah – the apparent leader of this satellite.

But Noah isn’t himself. Somehow, and oh how Sarah doesn’t want to know how, he was infected by the grub crawling around. It’s altered him, changing him into a frightening bug-like creature, but as fearful as Sarah Jane is, she’s with the Doctor. He’ll figure something out. Harry wants to leave, but Sarah knows the Doctor too well to know he will let them do that just yet.

And figure it out they do. The giant insects (oh, they are repulsive to look at – perhaps the oddest of all life forms she’s encountered since travelling with the Doctor) want to use the still sleeping colonists (the survivors of a 31st century Earth that was wrecked by solar flares) as nests to lay their young. But of course, the Doctor won’t allow for it. And this time, to Sarah’s pride, it’s her that comes up with the life-saving idea:

The escape shuttle has enough energy to power the electric field the Doctor wants to use to protect the sleepers.

Oh men! If only they would just put aside their arrogance for once and listen!

It’s how she winds up crawling through a narrow triangular vent, tugging a cord from the cargo hold to where the Doctor awaits, setting up the rest of the circuitry. And oh, the Doctor! Insulting her and telling her he should have relied on someone else to do the job and oh, how infuriating! And then he’s telling her how proud he is, and well, he’s nothing but a:

“Brute! Oh, you horrible man!”

But they’re laughing and smiling at each other, despite the danger that awaits them outside the now working electric field. Soon enough, a plan is concocted to rid the ship of the horrible insects and it works. But there’s a casualty. Not only was Noah lost, now more man than insect, but so was one of the technicians – sacrificed so the Doctor and everyone on board could live. She grieves the loss of life, but her happiness to have the Doctor safe and sound outweighs all.

Somehow, in someway, they had done it again.
his_sarah_jane: (strange new worlds)
He had finally decided on a place to go, shortly after Sarah returned from Milliways and her conversation with his future self. She decided that maybe – for the sake of time and to prevent paradoxes and all that other barmy-sounding material the Doctor always went on about – it would be best not to mention it. But still, she was sure he knew that something was wrong by the big smile that greeted him, and the tight hug.

She had stayed up the rest of the night (or whatever doubled for that here on the TARDIS) talking with him, not wanting to leave his side yet. But he didn’t seem to mind, as he continued to mind the TARDIS and work on a control panel while she chattered away.

It was good, and reassuring, and everything made Milliways and the future Doctor seem so far away. Sarah Jane was surprised the next morning (or whenever she woke up) to find herself back in her own quarters, on her bed, and smiled at the random act of kindness. She got dressed and then hurried off to find the Doctor and Harry, only to find them soon enough, arguing by the control system in the console room.

Harry was standing up from inspecting something as the Doctor glared at him, clearly annoyed. Before Sarah could get word in, a light went off to signal de-materialization, and the Doctor gave Harry one more glare before grabbing a torch and walking outside, yelling, “You’re a clumsy, ham-fisted idiot!”

Sarah shook her head. They were acting like such men. It was all rather annoying, and Harry wasn’t walking out of the TARDIS fast enough for her taste. Grabbing a candle, she pushed him out, momentarily confused when he states that someone’s gone.

“Who’s gone?”

“I mean, this isn’t,” he began, looking around the dark room in amazement, “we aren’t where we were when…I’ve gone mad.”

At that, she can’t help but smile. It was reassuring to hear someone else just as confused as she was on her first trip on the TARDIS. But this wasn’t the moon, and as Sarah told him brightly that this was exactly how she felt the first time, she walked over to the Doctor, placing a hand on his arm. “Where are we, Doctor?”

“No idea.”


By now, the Doctor was ignoring her, busy exploring the strange white room and talking to Harry. It was a step up from playing with that darn yo-yo, but still infuriating just the same. Especially because, to all intents and purposes, it appeared as if they were in someplace long abandoned with low oxygen levels that were starting to get to Sarah’s head.

Before she tried to scold the Doctor again, something caught her eye and she walked over to a wall, bending down at what looked like a door. After a few seconds of fiddling around with it, it opened to another white room.

“Hey, Doctor,” she whispered loudly, but was once again ignored. So with an annoyed snort and a stamp of her foot, she made her way into the new room. Hopefully, the Doctor would come to his senses soon enough and follow.

Inside, there was something that looked like a couch, a desk and a chair, and a few switches. The switches were what looked the most interesting, so Sarah walked over, and starts to toggle with some of the switches, trying to see if one of them - any of them – would turn on more lights or let more oxygen into this place.

When nothing happened, she turned away back to go back to the door. The Doctor hadn’t come in yet and – oh, oh no! The door had somehow closed and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, banging hard against the door, shouting for the Doctor (he has to come save me, he always comes to save me!) as she struggled to breathe.

But the lack of air got to her quicker than the Doctor could, and Sarah fell unconscious on to the floor. When she woke up, she was lying on a couch with Harry standing over her, calling her old girl for the hundredth time. Oh, if he…

“Call me ‘old girl’ again and…and I’ll spit in your eye,” she got out, more awake now than moments before. She smiled nicely at Harry, and then her smile grew wider when she saw the Doctor in the room with them.

“Welcome back, Sarah Jane,” he said.

“Couldn’t breathe,” she replied, giving him a look. Giving both of them a look.

“Drop of brandy would be the thing now,” was Harry’s response, followed by the Doctor telling him there was some in the TARDIS.

Oh, ew. Brandy. Those…those men! Her annoyance (and the prospect of being forced to drink brandy) was enough to fully wake her up. “I hate brandy!”

Both ignored her anyway, and they head back to the TARDIS, leaving Sarah alone. But that’s alright, because a soothing music started to play, and she had forgotten all about the brandy and the shots outside the room, and sleep seemed like just the right idea right now…

She never even noticed the transmat beam that slowly faded her out of the room.


his_sarah_jane: (Default)
Sarah Jane Smith

April 2011

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