his_sarah_jane: (thoughtful)
From here:

She hadn't meant for it to happen. James had been growing more and more distant ever since his last mission. And rather than making any snide remarks, Le Chiffre actually seemed to sympathize. One thing led to another, as these sorts of events typically go, and Sarah Jane found herself finally forgiving her one time torturer.

Twelve months later and everything had returned to normal at the Smith-Bond home. Valerie was walking, getting in to everything she possibly could. James had apologised months ago for his behaviour, admitting to a kill he had been haunted by. The arrival of his son had only reaffirmed their marriage.

Andrew Nigel Bond didn't necessarily look a lot like his father, but the moment James held him, he was lost in fatherhood happiness all over again.

Sarah tried to go back to Milliways once, three months after Andrew's birth. She knew the truth, one secret she would always keep from James. But Le Chiffre wasn't there.

She wondered if he'd ever know.
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: (sarah/james - happy)
1. Who eats more?
I'd venture to say me.

2. Who said "I love you" first?
He did. It took me completely by surprise.

3. How long have you been together?
We were friends first. I met him shortly after he first came to Milliways. Then he went and bloody well fell in love with me and, oh, about a year and a half later, Valerie was born.

4. Who sings better?
Neither of us.

5. Who's older?
He is, by a good fourteen years.

6. Who's smarter?
Oh, I am. Obviously. ;)

7. Whose temper is worse?
That, I believe, we're tied on. Our rows have been dreadful in the past.

more questions )
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
Sleeping on the couch.

She had stormed out of the bedroom that night, angry and in tears. Behind her, she could hear protests: words of anger followed by words of reconciliation followed by more words of anger. She had ignored them all. Absolutely furious, Sarah Jane Bond was. She had slammed the door behind her, loud enough to shake some of the books on a nearby shelf. Loud enough, also, to wake the sleeping five month old downstairs. Valerie’s cries had pierced Sarah’s heart. But as angry as she was, she couldn’t be bothered. James could deal with her. After all, Valerie was just as much his daughter as she was Sarah’s.

Tears had continued to blur her vision as she grabbed a blanket from a cupboard. She wiped at them feverishly as she stumbled down the stairs. Sarah couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to him that night. A part of her had wondered if she could ever bring herself to sleep next to him again. A man who accused her of such… of such things. A year: was that all this marriage had to it?

Upstairs, the baby still cried. She could hear two doors slam in short succession. Soon after, the crying stopped. For Valerie, anyway.

In the parlor by the front door to the townhouse, Sarah Jane made her bed on the couch. She pushed one of the day pillows against an arm. Then she collapsed on top of it, wrapping the blanket around her. As she stared at the quiet fireplace, her tears continued. The row hadn’t been their first. No, that very first one had been when they were only friends. Their second, or their first as a couple, had come a couple of months into their marriage. The pregnancy had stressed and stretched them much further than she thought.

Valerie had reconciled that one. Her birth had been a healing balm for the Smith-Bond family. Now, Sarah caught herself wondering if it was just the eye in the storm.

He had been in Milliways earlier. Somehow, someway, he had found out about a certain kiss that had occurred during the pub’s winter holiday season. It had been under the mistletoe. She was nearly nine months pregnant. His doppelganger, another James Bond from another universe, had been hard to resist. In the end, they had remained friends. Sarah Jane loved her husband far too much.

But said husband wouldn’t listen to her. She told him again and again that it meant nothing. That she had been angry with him at the time (he hadn’t been around, moving out to a hotel and spending his days avoiding her until their next row, which had nearly became violent). It had been before the slow healing process. It was a bloody, fucking kiss under the mistletoe.

And he was fucking jealous of something that meant nothing. Sarah Jane didn’t even know if she would ever see that James again. He had left to go back to his own world. Perhaps that was what allowed her husband entry to the pub again. Maybe all this was a big mistake.

She gave up her world for him.

She gave up the Doctor for him.

Anger still ate at her as she curled her knees to her chest and finally closed her eyes. The tears stained her cheeks as she began to drift off. The sleep was unpleasant, the couch only designed for short naps or lounging. Every now and then, she thought she had been awoken by Valerie’s shouts or a door closing.

When she awoke in the morning, Sarah Jane knew she could never sleep on that couch again. She’d bloody well move out first. That couch now held too many demons. All she wanted was to apologise. But Sarah knew herself to be too stubborn to actually do so. Instead, she found herself clutching the blanket tighter as she stared at the fireplace. Someone was awake. She could smell the freshly brewed tea from the kitchen. James wasn’t a huge fan. And, as it was weekend, there was no reason for May to be here.

At a loss, she did the only thing she could do. Sarah pulled herself from the bed, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders as a cloak. The nightgown was warm enough but she needed the comfort. Quietly, she tiptoed down another flight of stairs to the kitchen.

He was awake, moving about the kitchen in his boxers. So was Valerie, happily sitting in her high chair and making a mess of her banana mush breakfast, more of it on her pajamas than in her mouth. The spoon in her grasp was flinging food everywhere. From her position, blending against the dining room wall, she could see bits fling on to James’ blond hair. He wiped a splatter from his cheek, leaving the kettle to attend to the girl. Carefully, he took the spoon from her and began feeding Valerie her breakfast.

It made Sarah smile despite how angry she still was at James. This was, she supposed, what a family was about. Regardless, she couldn’t find the will to move away from the wall. It was James who had the first word, fifteen minutes later. She could not tell how long he had noticed her standing there. When he had begun to approach, somehow balancing Valerie in one arm and a mug in the other hand, she found herself frozen to the spot. His blue eyes were indistinguishable.

She was more frightened than she had been for a while.

“We were going to wake you,” he spoke quietly, almost barely audible above Valerie’s happy squeals at seeing her mummy. “I’ve slept on that couch before. It isn’t a pleasant experience.”

“No,” Sarah Jane agreed, her face and emotions guarded. If this was just leading to another row… she didn’t know if she could handle that. “It isn’t.”

He held out the tea mug to her. It took her a beat to accept it, but she did. Sarah took a small sip and smiled again. Earl Grey, with just enough milk and sugar. After all this time of living together, he had finally gotten it right.

“Darling, I…” James ran a hand through his hair, frowning a little when coming across banana bits. He was just as lousy at apologies as she was. She knew that. “No more kissing men that aren’t me. Even if they are in some damned Milliways way – that doesn’t count, Sarah. Even if we weren’t…”

She could hear the hesitation in his voice. She could hear the underlying message and fear. What if she found an attractive, stable man that could offer her more of a life? What if she left him for that? All the what ifs that never got vocalized. But they were there, as much as those of her own. What if he grew bored of being a father and a husband? Then what?

It was a bloody ridiculous marriage they had found themselves in a year ago. Neither of them were ready, let alone with a child on the way.

Watching him awkwardly try to apologise, Sarah remembered just again how worth it this all was.

So she nodded and gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “No more kissing men if not work related. I understand, James.”

His expression turned from rueful and serious to perplexed within instants. Sarah raised an eyebrow and smiled impishly. “As I’m not exactly in the same line of career as you are, I doubt it’ll ever come up. Still, fair is fair.”

“Not in this case,” he answered, sweeping her into a one armed hug. Valerie reached for Sarah’s hair, eyes still alight with joy. “No,” James began before kissing her, “more,” kiss, “James’.”

“And no,” kiss, “more,” kiss, “couches,” Sarah Jane agreed, finally resting her forehead against his. “Not for years.”

[ooc: based on events in milliways_bar]
his_sarah_jane: (flirty - self assured)
Seduction. Have you ever seduced someone or has anyone ever seduced you?

The first time they tried, Sarah complained of pains. It was April 13th, James’ thirty-ninth birthday and she had wanted so desperately to make it a night for the two of them to remember. They had taken Valerie to her first fancy restaurant (although, at about six weeks old, Valerie was mostly interested). Gifts had been exchanged. And after weeks of a strict exercise regime, Sarah had finally felt comfortable enough with her body to slip into a negligee and give James a show.

They had gotten as far as his hand groping past the panties before her abdomen began to ache. The rest of the night had been spent cuddling instead, telling each other stories of each other’s past and, of course, a midnight feeding for Valerie. All and all, it had been enough to tire the couple into sleeping as long the next morning as they would have had they made love the night before.

The next time came two weeks later. It was early evening on a Sunday that had been spent hard at work. Valerie had been shuffled between offices. Working at home, both James and Sarah found no reason to keep her in her nursery. She slept often, and even awake, Valerie typically was a quiet child. So, 6 p.m. found the Smith-Bonds all in bed, with the two older ones both reading. But reading quickly led to other things. A kiss here, a caress there, the loosening of pajama bottoms and tops. Quickly, what had started as innocent flirting led to passionate embrace. But before proper intercourse could occur, a baby’s cry from the intercom pierced through the pants and moans. It was over before it really began.

Sarah Jane was certain though that tonight would be the night. Everything had been planned. Despite her recent streak of late night hunger, Valerie had been awfully restless today. Hopefully it meant that she’d sleep through most of the night. Or, at the very least, wouldn’t wake her parents with slumber. Although a part of her told her the thought was in vain, she couldn’t help but wish. It had been far too long since she had last properly made love to her husband. She was randy, lusting after a man her body and daughter hadn’t quite allowed her to have. The fact that she hadn’t been alone with that feeling did not help at all.

While James was out with Valerie (a daily trip around Holland Park to expose the baby girl to the outside world), Sarah prepared dinner. She had wanted to spoil him tonight, to show him just how much she still loved him. Perhaps their separation had brought them closer together. Perhaps it had been Valerie’s birth. Or perhaps it had simply been because they had been trying to make their relationship work. Either way, all the effort had paid off. Sarah Jane had never felt more grateful.

Despite her labours in the kitchen, dinner had been a common enough event. Valerie napped upstairs as Sarah and James enjoyed the Sheppard’s Pie. Conversation was typical: how Valerie was doing, upcoming doctor’s appointments, the odd going-ons at Milliways (James still hadn’t bothered going back), whether it was too soon to take a family vacation for Sarah’s birthday in June, hypothesizing as to what sort of mission James would be sent on next. It was nice, comfortable. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was pressing her luck. Valerie had slept through out dinner.

James eventually slipped out for a couple hours: a drink with Felix Leiter that had been planned as soon as James had found out his friend was in town. Sarah Jane went about her own tasks for the evening: nursing Valerie, showering, working a little bit more before finally preparing the bedroom for her husband’s arrival home. The lights were dimmed and candles in thin, glass containers were softly glowing around the bed. Satin sheets replaced comfortable cotton and the musky scent of perfume filled the room. Sensual music played softly in the background. Rose petals were carefully scattered on top of the bed.

Her intent was for James to come home and find her in the center of said petals. She had on the skimpiest black negligee she owned – a new one that she had purchased simply for this occasion. It made her feel confident and embarrassed all at the same time. Sarah Jane only hoped that it made James lustful when he walked in. He had called fifteen minutes ago to tell her he was dropping Leiter off at the hotel. The American had apparently drunk far too much. He would be home any moment and everything was perfect.

He’d walk in and be swept off his feet. Sarah would stand and walk forward towards him. A foot away, she would place a hand on his chest. Then, she would tilt her head up and kiss him as she tried to remain in charge of the seduction. Maybe she would get rough and push him on to the bed where she could lean above him and do things that would make him purr. Clothes would be lost and then, finally, both would get what they wanted. She almost longed for this moment, wanting nothing more than to be connected to him as close as humanly possible. Her eyes closed as Sarah Jane smiled happily.

It would be perfect.

Five minutes later and James Bond did indeed return to his townhouse in Notting Hill. He entered the building quietly (if Valerie was sleeping, he didn’t want to wake her). His first stop was at the nursery to check on his sleeping beauty. James leaned into the crib and kissed her on the forehead before gently brushing back blonde curls from her face. He moved Teddy closer to her and smiled. Now it was time to find his other girl. When a glance into Sarah’s office revealed lights off and an empty room, he smirked in anticipation. Sarah had been far too eager to get him out of the house tonight. She was planning something.

James loosened his tie as he walked into the room. His eyes quickly fell on Sarah, there in the center of the bed and glowing in the candle night. She was gorgeous, he thought. Absolutely ravishing. The tie dropped to the floor as he took another step forward. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching her for a few minutes more. Eventually, he caressed her cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. If he was disappointed, James certainly didn’t show it. He could see how hard she tried. Tonight, he found himself watching a sleeping beauty more beautiful than he could remember.

It was dull and domestic but he didn’t care. They had the rest of their lives for passionate and wild seductions. Until then, he was content to kick off his shoes and crawl into bed next to her. In the morning he would tell her that his next mission had come sooner than either expected – Leiter needed help with a case of his. For now, James would only wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her hair.

“Soon darling,” he whispered. “I promise that, Sarah.”

[ooc: based on milliways_bar]
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: (frowny)
1. One Word Prompts : a) Distance


You deserve to hear this out loud but I’m afraid that, if I try to speak in front of you, I may lose all will. When I asked Bar for a piece of paper, she gave me this. Funny sense of humour, I suppose.

But, well, not to beat about the bush: I don’t know if we should see each other again. I love him, James. I love him and I love Valerie and my little family. It isn’t fair if I sneak off here to see you. Even if, in some ways, you are very much the same man. I just… I can’t ever live with myself if I hurt him. It’s hard enough knowing that this may hurt you.

We need some distance. Distance until we can look each other in the eye again and feel nothing but friendship. I have no right to you. I am a married woman and I need to start acting as such.

I am so very, very sorry, James. But I don’t believe that I was meant to love the same soul in two bodies.

Sarah Jane

[ooc: based on milliways_bar events]
his_sarah_jane: (i want to cry)
"There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it." --E.M.Forster, A Room With A View.

She had thought that all of the bad parts of her life were over. She had thought that coming here, that giving up her old life – that all of that signified the start of something new. She had thought that things would be different this time. She didn’t think it could happen again. She didn’t think she was capable of losing anybody else.

But there it was, in black and white. She held the paper in her hand. She saw the look on Villiers’s face. He was always so transparent with emotions. Always. In the three years of being married to James, he was the only other MI-6er she had truly gotten to know. Perhaps it was because of their shared knowledge of Milliways. Or perhaps it was because he often times seemed the most human of the lot. Either way, he had been the one selected to tell her the news.

After three years of marriage, she was a widow. Despite his promise of being home in time for their daughter’s third birthday, he never would be home. He would never be home again.

She stared blankly as Villiers continued. She was certain that a good half of what he was saying was MI-6 propaganda. Not quite the same speech they gave all the widows (after all, a spy’s profession was secret), but something close. That he was a good man. That he had served his country and queen well. That he had been a loyal and valuable employee. That they were sad to see him go. The only part that possibly seemed real was his sympathy.

But Villier’s had never really lost anyone he loved. He didn’t understand how difficult it was. She had lost her parents, she had lost her best friend, and in a lot of ways, she had lost her world. But she had never expected to lose her husband, despite his career. It simply never happened in the films. James Bond always escaped, always lived, always got the girl in the end. How could he leave the girl behind? How could he leave her behind?

“Sarah?” Villiers placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head, unable to speak. All her vocalizations were trapped in her head. The only nose she could utter was a broken heated sob. He was gone. Yet another person she loved had died before her and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Except for one thing. )

[based on events in [livejournal.com profile] milliways_bar]
his_sarah_jane: (sarah/james - snuggling)
Two weeks have passed since Sarah and Valerie had returned from the hospital. It had been a lovely two week, really. James would go to work in the morning, kissing his girls goodbye as they slept. Sarah, after finagling a deal with her boss, would do her work at home. Restlessness would get to her quickly though and she'd often wind up in Milliways for breaks.

It really had been a lovely two weeks. Valerie and James went on their first father-daughter outing. Sarah had appointed John godfather to her daughter. Really, the past two weeks had been lovely. A perfect start to their little family.

That is, until five nights ago.

Five nights ago, Valerie had discovered a new game. She was generally a quiet and wide-eyed child. She'd cry mostly for food or for a diaper change. Occasionally, it was for attention. But for the first four days, she had kept to crying during the day.

Five nights ago, it all changed.

The hallway clock chimes loudly, but not nearly as loud as the cries echoing through the baby monitor. Sarah Jane stirs in her sleep, snuggling up against the man beside her. An arm flings outward as she tries to ignore the cries. Maybe if she hid her head, they'd go away.
his_sarah_jane: (older!sarah - reflective)

The stars sparkled around her. It was like magic: a truly breathtaking magic that Sarah Jane had never once bothered to appreciate before. In all her years, in all her travels she couldn’t believe that she had ever seen anything more magical than this. The moon glowed deep amber in the foreground and the trees clung with mildew that glittered in the glow. The owls and bats overhead made a peaceful chorus to the night.

The Doctor was right. Earth could be an adventure all itself. She had been all across those stars in her youth. Yet, this moment and this scenery were more glorious than anything she could ever have imagined or witnessed. And what made it even more perfect was the company she was with.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” a voice whispered into her ear as the man clutched her to his chest. “Thirty-five years. Did you ever think?”

“No,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she rested her head against his chest. His heart beat in quiet rhythm to hers and, like her own breath, his came out in small, cold puffs. A chill had settled upon them but it was disregarded for the serenity of the night.

“Do you like it?”

Sarah smiled. It was exactly what she had wished: an intermission from the ordinary (or not so ordinary) humdrum of their lives. But not once had she ever pictured anyplace like this – only, perhaps, a small hotel within London where they both could easily be contacted by their respective careers if necessary. Being alone in the solitude of the woods, renting this charming cabin for a week, far from the grasp of civilization was so much better. She was with him and him with her. Thirty-five years seemed magical when she looked back on it. It seemed as magical as this place before them now.

“I adore it.”

That was that then. There really wasn’t much need for words anymore. The night provided the music and the tempo as they embraced happily, lovingly. Magic radiated around them, lovely and blissful and forever memorable.
his_sarah_jane: (sleeping)
She had received a text mere hours before. James was on his way home from his unknown destination and Sarah Jane had been more than eager (and more than nervous) to see him again. Maybe they could finally talk. Maybe they could finally figure things out. Maybe they could act like the mature adults they were supposed to be.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

In the midst of working on last minute preparations on Valerie's room, her water broke. Eleven days earlier than expected, Sarah and James' daughter was too impatient to wait any longer. Sarah panicked. Now she was on the way to the hospital and terrified that James might not get back at time. No matter what state their relationship was in, she wanted him to be here for this.

By the time the car service pulled in, Sarah Jane felt exhausted already. After reception and the like, she was shown to a room. The nurse reassured her that it would only be a matter of time now, that everything would be okay. But after a visit from Dr Ross minutes later, Sarah wasn't certain that everything would be okay after all. The umbilical cord whad slipped in to the birth canal ahead of Valerie. There would have to be surgery.

The nurse went out to attempt to call James again as another began to prep Sarah Jane.
his_sarah_jane: (pensive)
The journey back from the hospital was a quiet one. Neither, it appeared, had very much to discuss in the back of the cab James had hired to drive them home. Neither, it seemed, felt like being the first to discuss Sarah Jane's (hopefully) previous problem.

As soon as she got home (to a cat who had clearly been busy with hunting mice), the first thing Sarah did was to collapse on the couch. She was exhausted: mentally and physically. The apprehension she felt was slowly killing her all over again. But Sarah didn't know what to say. And she didn't know how to say it.
his_sarah_jane: (sarah/james - the other one)

It had become her favorite thing to do lately. There was something soothing about showing off her daughter to others. In holding the girl and reminding herself again and again that, despite all the hardships, she could almost feel calm. Despite the fact that she had her father’s colouring, Sarah found that taking care of her daughter was an amazing escape. She could forget and she could be happy.

Four weeks after the first time she had brought Valerie to the bar, Sarah Jane was back yet again. She’d come here at least twice a week, hoping to run into someone who hadn’t yet met Valerie Bond. In Sarah’s opinion, her daughter was absolutely perfect. Valerie had her mother’s nose and face, and even if those startling blue eyes hurt to look at times, Sarah was utterly in love.

Today really was no different than the others. After ‘work’ (still on maternity/medical leave, she did her writing at the house), she came to Milliways for dinner. With a mortgage still to pay, a cat to take care of, and a child to nurture, it was cheaper to eat on a tab than pay for actual groceries. With Valerie in her pram, she was able to sit at the bar tonight to enjoy her cheeseburger. As she ate, she gently rocked the pram and watched her daughter sleep. Sarah was rather preoccupied tonight. She didn’t even notice the gentleman sit down on the other side of Valerie.

“You have quite the beautiful child,” the man spoke with a gentle accent. “How old is she?”

Sarah Jane looked up from her meal, momentarily taken by surprise. He looked so very, very familiar. She blinked, frowning as she looked him over. When had he come back? “Simon?”


“Simon Skinner?” Sarah shook her head. She couldn’t understand why he looked so confused. “I know it’s been a while, but… well, aren’t you?”

“No,” he answered rather frankly. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

“No you’re not.”

The man laughed, giving her a look of amazed puzzlement. “I’m not?”

“You most certainly are not,” Sarah responded sharply. “I married the man, you see. And he left me and my daughter the moment this new life got too difficult for him. I know James Bond all too well and you’re not him.”

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at him, almost daring him to respond. She couldn’t believe this stranger or Simon, whoever he was, had the bloody cheek to come up to her and claim to be James Bond. After everything she had gone through (and Sarah was more than certain that by now, the whole bar proper knew her saga), this was far on the bottom of the list of things Sarah Jane wanted to deal with.

But she hadn’t expected the man’s reaction. He looked at her curiously before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out an ID card. He slid it on the bar surface before reaching in to stroke Valerie’s hair. At first, Sarah’s heart skipped a beat as she worried that he may harm her. She was ready to yell until she saw the look on his face. It was that of regret and sorrow. Almost as if he had lost someone important to him, too. Valerie’s only reaction to the new hand was a gentle and dreamy sigh. Semi-confident that her daughter was safe, Sarah Jane reached for the ID.

And then, she nearly fainted when she saw the name.

“Her name is Valerie,” she whispered, still in a sort of shock. It was shock accompanied by heart ache accompanied by a sort of odd, desperate hope. Sarah had absolutely no idea what to make of this encounter at all. “Valerie Charlotte Bond.”

The man - James - looked up at Sarah, moving his hand away from Valerie to pick up the card and slide it back in his wallet. The haunted look had been replaced by a more stoic one, but nothing nearly as stoic as she had ever seen on her James’ face. Still, staring at him was enough to bring tears to her eyes. It had seemed like so long since her last cry over this whole mess. Sarah felt ridiculous crying in front of a man she never met.

But, as he got up from his barstool to wrap her in a gentle hug, she found herself not caring at all. She suddenly felt something she hadn’t in months: a glimmer of hope that she only prayed wasn’t misplaced. It was glorious and painful all at the same time.

Eventually, they pulled apart. James reached for a napkin from the counter and gently wiped her eyes. She smiled awkwardly in return, feeling bashful and silly all at the same time.

“I’m Sarah Jane,” she whispered, unable to break gaze from his eyes. Sarah didn’t believe in love at first sight, but right now, she wondered if anything was really possible. “It’s… it’s rather nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replied softly. James nodded to her previously abandoned meal. “Is company at all welcomed?”

“I’d love it.”

[ooc: based on events in milliways bar. also, random trivia knowledge also inspiring prompt: timothy dalton bond = the fourth bond.]
his_sarah_jane: (sleeping)
Sarah Jane has never liked hospitals much. But true to her word, she doesn't put up any sort of resistance on the way to St Anne's. The ride over is silent; Sarah feels too weak to really say much at all. Instead, she spends time trying her best to stay conscious and not collapse on James yet again.

Soon enough, they arrive at the hospital from their Notting Hill house. There isn't a long wait in Accident and Emergency, so Sarah's seen quickly enough. After taking her vitals and the like, they hook her up to an IV and transfer her over to maternity. It's there that she's question until feeling dizzy all over again. When the last doctor leaves, it's with the promise of sending a psychiatrist over in the morning.

Finally, she's allowed some alone time with James. She's been anticipating and dreading this moment through every exam and interview. When it does come, she's not sure she's prepared. But there's one thing she can say, and it's certainly deserved at the moment.

"Thank you."
his_sarah_jane: (startled)

Sarah Jane is unsurprisingly startled when a small ginger cat comes rushing inside before she closes the door. She had seen it while walking up to the house; the tabby had been hard to miss with the way it had been poking its head over the stoop.

"What are you doing here?"

It's a rather pointless question seeing that all she gets is a 'meow' in return.

New tactic time!

"James," she calls out loudly. "Are you home?"
his_sarah_jane: (sarah/james - happy)
Sarah Jane has decided she despises these sorts of visits. She has never actually been entirely fond neither of medical doctors in the first place (Harry Sullivan being the exception, of course) nor of the need for what she’d consider unnecessary time in bed. Maybe it is because of all those times she has wound up in the emergency ward in the past. Or maybe it is because of her impatient nature. Either way, she can’t help but be grumpy as she enters the clinic.

But she knows that she’ll do anything for her child already, even if that means facing uncomfortable appointments with Dr Ross every month. Thankfully, the wait isn’t very long. She still feels a bit like the stranger in this world sometimes, especially after her discovery of Doctor Who. Seeing all the other women in the waiting room - the ones that don’t have to worry about being caught living on a forged identity, the ones whose children truly belong to this world – it hurts sometimes. Sarah doesn’t like watching how happy they are. She doesn’t like how they don’t have to worry about their child messing up any time-space continuums.

Even if it is only her second visit here, the exam is starting to become routine. Dr Ross smiles at her and asks basic questions: How are you? How is your husband doing? Have you felt the baby move? If so, how often? Any spotting? Any horrible aches or pains? How’s that job hunt going? And the new town house? Even if Sarah Jane doesn’t like the clinic as a whole, she’s found herself warming up to her doctor. There is something genuine about the woman. She’s someone who really does love her work and Sarah admires that. Soon enough, her weight is taken and her blood pressure measured. A fetal doppler stethoscope is used to measure the heartbeat. Sarah Jane closes her eyes as she listens to it. The sound will never cease to amaze her.

Then, it’s time for Sarah’s favorite and least favorite part: the ultrasound. It’s the whole reason she walked in here with an uncomfortably full bladder – better to highlight the uterus, according to the instructions given last time. But it’s made her fidget more than usual throughout the entire exam. She lies down on the table and frowns a little when her shirt is rolled up. She’s getting fatter, and even though Sarah knows that it’s perfectly normal, she still feels self conscious about it. A cold gel is rubbed on her belly before Dr Ross starts the exploration.

Sarah Jane can easily see the screen from where she lies. It’s hard for her to make out any significance in the image, but as far as she can tell from Dr Ross’ nods and murmurs, everything seems to be normal. The wait for explanation is interesting and uncomfortable all at the same time. Valerie is moving again and it makes everything all the more unpleasant. Finally, after what seems like forever in Sarah’s opinion, Dr Ross turns away from the screen to smile at her.

“Congratulations, Mrs Bond,” she says. “Everything appears to be in order for your baby. It looks like it’s developing along normally, at the proper size and point of development for a seventeen week old fetus. Would you like me to run you through the anatomy on the screen?”

She nods, feeling rather proud of herself for taking such good care of her body and child (for the most part). After watching the ultrasound this entire time, of course she’d like to know what is on there. So they begin, looking at the digits and limbs and heart and the overall child. Dr Ross promises to get a print out of this ultrasound to Sarah before she leaves. Then, she asks whether or not she would like to know the sex.

“You can tell already?” Sarah asks after blinking a little. It has been something she had been debating. She knows that James has been curious, but truth be told, she herself has grown attached to her hopes. She’s almost afraid of hearing otherwise.

“Yes. Your child is well enough along that I could give you a probable likelihood.”

Seconds later, Sarah Jane caves to her curiosity. Seconds after that, she’s beaming with joy. It’s a girl. She and James are going to have a little girl after all. Valerie Charlotte, she thinks as her eyes fill with tears. She was right. It’s a glorious feeling.

It’s an even better feeling when she gets home later that evening after allowing herself a small shopping trip at Harrods. She had wanted to celebrate, and the best way she could think how was to buy an adorable sleepsuit for Valerie: white with pink petals all over and pink frills on the fronts and the sleeves. For fun, she had the clerk wrap up the box: a present for James when he got home. And now she is home, happily waiting on the reception room couch with her book until he gets home from work. Sarah Jane finds it hard to concentrate though. She’s too busy going over the news again and again. She would rush into Milliways, but James has to be the first to know.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have long to wait. When she hears the door close behind him, Sarah rushes out of the room with the box behind her back. She kisses him hello and, as much as she doesn’t want to give anything away, that over eager smile won’t leave her face. They murmur their hellos and before James has a chance to ask how the doctor’s visit went, Sarah holds the box out to him.

“Surprise,” she whispers as he takes the box with confusion. Sarah Jane giggles as he questions her as to the occasion. She doesn’t say why, only encourages him to undo the wrapping and open it. Her looks at her doubtfully, but, knowing better than to argue does comply. A few moments later and the box and wrapping is dropped on the floor by the door as he holds up the sleepsuit by the hanger.

The look he gives her is clearly expressive of further confusion. She can also see a hint of distaste in his eyes as he studies the garment warily. “What is this?”

She beams, taking it from him and setting it on the coat rack before she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach. Sarah eyes the floor for a moment, trying to see if the ultrasound is sticking out between the wrapping and tissue paper on the floor.

Finally, “We’re having a girl, James. Dr Ross confirmed it in the ultrasound today. Which was also in the box, you know.”

It takes him a moment. James breathes in and then smiles back with amused resignation. “I guess you were right.”

Sarah nods, bending down to pick up the ultrasound from the pile of rubbish. She hands it to him, pointing out their daughter carefully. When she glances up to see his reaction, the overjoyed beam on his own face makes her heart swell. It is, she decides, the best feeling in the world.
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)

“Sarah Jane Smith. Honestly! Must you behave like this? Mr Foster was only being polite.”

Sarah shook her head, glaring at her aunt. The twelve year old girl didn’t understand why she could see it and her aunt couldn’t. Mr Foster wasn’t just being polite. He was being too polite, too friendly. And she didn’t like it one bit. She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she frowned.

“No he wasn’t. He wasn’t being anything like Mr Bryan. He was polite. And old and stuffy, but polite,” she repeated. “And he wasn’t hanging all over you at dinner!”

Lavinia looked at her niece in shock. But there was a hint of a blush that wouldn’t otherwise be there. “Sarah Jane! I would think that I would notice such a thing!”

No she wouldn’t. She never did. She was always too caught up in her research to notice things like men. Sarah had always found it silly, except for now. She didn’t like that blush. It seemed to indicate her worse nightmare come true. Sarah Jane wasn’t afraid to admit she was selfish. She liked her little family just as it was: her and her aunt and she didn’t want anybody to come and change it.

“Not my fault you’re obtuse,” she retorted. “You never notice boys. Why do you have to notice him?”

“I…” Lavinia faltered. “Sarah Jane, go to your room – now. I am not going to stand for this sort of behavior. It’s rude and obstinate and completely unlady like!”

Sarah stayed rooted in her chair. It was turning in to a battle of the wills, and she absolutely refused to go to her room for behavior that Mr Foster deserved. So she sat and glowered until her aunt sighed and left the room. She watched for another moment before standing and shouting in her wake:

“At least I’m not obtuse!”

“I am afraid our combined stubbornness won’t get us out of this situation, Sarah Jane.”

She couldn’t stand it when he talked like that. Maybe it had been a mistake when she insisted that the Doctor accompany her on a jaunt around Terra IV, claiming that if the TARDIS was parked here, it had to be for good reason. He had been rather morose today, more so than normal. It wasn’t the first time he had stood in the console room and stared off into space, lamenting his lot in life as a Timelord. Like all those other instances, Sarah had simply mocked him. When it hadn’t been enough, she tossed him his hat, opened the TARDIS doors, and pushed him outside.

And now, they were trapped by the native pygmies, a strange bunch of rainbow colours with eyestalks growing from the crown of her head. She wasn’t sure if they were just typically aggressive or if they had done something to disturb their way of life. Regardless, nearly ten minutes after leaving the TARDIS, Sarah and the Doctor had found themselves surrounded by sharp wooden spears. Fifteen minutes after, they were locked in a small hut, one with barely enough room for either of them to sit up straight.

“Don’t be daft, Doctor,” she responded, reaching over to lean her head against his arm. “One of us will think of something. We always do.”

“Too often,” he murmurs, looking down at her. “I put you in danger far too often, Sarah Jane. Why do you continuously follow me when you long for baths and tea and human company?”

Sarah smiled softly. “I guess I’m too stubborn to stop. It gets to be kind of addicting. Even when we are trapped in huts without a sonic screwdriver to get us out of the situation.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too,” she agreed with a nod. “But I’d be even gladder if we could get off this flipping planet.”

“Sarah, you have to be the most stubborn, obstinate woman I know.”

It hadn’t been the first time she had heard those words. And she doubted that it would ever be the last. She only smiled sweetly at her husband, rubbing her rather pregnant belly. Almost as if in response, there was a hard kick from her child. Their child, she corrected as she watched James closely. He was pacing, clearly unhappy with her decision.

“If you think I’m horrible, darling, wait until our daughter is born. I almost fear to see the result of the union between the two of us.”

“I’m not nearly as bad as you are,” he retorted, wagging an accusing finger at her.

She rolled her eyes, staring at him doubtfully. “Need I really mention the number of times I have to ask a question to get a proper response from you?”

James sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was a common reaction now, a sign he was rather exasperated and frustrated with dealing with her. She considered it a sign that their relationship was still very much alive if she could rile him up like this. Sarah walked towards him, placing a hand on his arm.

“I know we have no intention of being a regular, dull couple, but it’s only a film, James. What’s so wrong with it?”

“It has Ewan McGregor.”


“It’s a chick flick,” he answered, wincing at the words. The wince turned into a facepalm at his wife’s laughter. “It’s meant to attract over hormonal women who have nothing better to do with their time than watch Mc-”

James,” Sarah interrupted, looking up at him. “I don’t know how you’ve failed to notice, but I very much fall into that category right now. We’re going to the movies, darling. We are going to see Miss Potter. Together.”



“Why didn’t you quit?”

“I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of boxing me into that corner,” Sarah Jane responded coolly as she lifted her tea cup to her mouth. “If Mr Stram wasn’t happy with the sort of articles I was putting out, that was his problem, not mine. I was rather content working at the Sunday Mail.”

Teri, her friend and co-worker from the paper, nodded. “Well. None of us had ever seen someone stand up to him in such a way. Not since Matthew was fired. Kudos, Sarah Jane. It’ll be one for the record books.”

She laughed, shrugging almost bashfully. “But now I’m out of a job. James and I can’t send Valerie to uni on his income alone.”

“Aww, you’ll find something,” Teri answered, holding up her cup and nodding almost sagely. “It’s you, Sarah. One of the most talented, obstinate, and dedicated writers in the lot. A paper would have to be daft not to want you on it.”

“I suppose,” she murmured, drifting into thought as she watched people pass by the corner café. She was nearly forty now. One would think she was too old for these sorts of silly games. Maybe her job should come first. Sarah, though, couldn’t see anything else but her pride and integrity in her writing as being of the upmost importance. She wouldn’t cave just because her editor wanted to sell a few more papers. She was too stubborn, and journalism meant too much to her.

Eventually, Sarah Jane shrugged as she glanced back towards her friend. “I don’t look forward to telling James, though.”

“You two have been married what, about fifteen years now? You’d think he’d be used to it.”

That does earn a chuckle in the end. “Sometimes I wonder if he really knew what he was getting in to. Either of us, for that matter. But in the end, we’re happy and I’d like to think that’s all that really counts.”

In the end, Sarah Jane was alone. She was nearly ninety-three now. James had passed away ten years ago. Valerie was gone as well, having died three years prior in an automobile accident. At this point, Sarah wanted nothing but to rejoin her family wherever they may be. But her body seemed far too stubborn to quit. It was as if it was waiting for something. She had no idea what.

The reason came to her one day as a blue police box materialized in her home. Even if the town house was far too big for just one individual, Sarah had refused to leave the memories behind. She could, after all, be just as obstinate as her body. With assisted living and medical care, everything had been fine. Her heart had nearly stopped, however, at the presence of the box. The man who stepped out of it was no help. He stopped less than an inch away, leaving the door half open in order to talk to the companion still inside it.

“Looks like we made a wrong turn by that black hole. We shouldn’t be here, wherever here is. Think Twilight Zone but infinitely worse. If we don’t find a way to reverse the flow of the polarity in the console, we could quite easily cause the apocalypse here and back home.”

He hadn’t changed. It looked to Sarah that this was still his tenth incarnation. She wondered how many years had passed for him since they last talked.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, determined to get his attention. “Doctor.”

“Uh.” He turned around. And then looked at her with a wide-eyed expression of awe. “Sarah Jane?”

She nodded, smiling softly. It was like that episode she saw on the telly once. “I grew up, Doctor. I got old. But it was an absolutely brilliant life. I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.”

“Sarah Jane,” he repeated, beaming wildly at her as he walked over and pulled her in to a gentle hug. Whatever row they had once had seemed to be forgotten. “My Sarah Jane.”

It was in the hug that Sarah knew her time had finally come. She could only cling to life for so long. And now, after finally reconciling with her best friend, it was time to bow out with grace.

[ooc: last three parts based on [livejournal.com profile] milliways_bar roleplay]
his_sarah_jane: (snoopy reporter!)
After a morning full of final touches to resume, cover letter, and writing samples, Sarah Jane had finally felt confident in mailing out packages to various London-based newspapers. She was determined to get a job here in James’ world and one that would suit her interest in writing. She wouldn’t be the sort to live as a housewife, dependent on her husband’s income. Already, she felt as if she had taken too long. But with the pregnancy, the wedding, and the house hunting, Sarah simply didn’t have the time she needed to prepare the documents to her upmost liking.

Now though? Now they had moved in to their town house. They still hadn’t fully unpacked. In every room boxes were scattered among piles of unpacked belongings and furniture. Some were old things, moved in from Milliways and James’ old flat. Others were new purchases: items Sarah claimed more appropriate for a family home or furniture (like a beautiful old cradle she found the other day in an antique shop) for the baby. Of course, paths were cleared out leading from room to room. It was easy to get to their bed, easy to find their way from the kitchen to the garden and to the dining room, easy to get to the upstairs closet that led towards Milliways, easy to get to the relatively undisturbed upstairs bedrooms.

After three days of living in the town house, it was starting to slowly become a home. Fond memories, of course, had been created the very first second they arrived to move in. James had lifted her up into his arms, causing her to squeal and bat her fists playfully against his chest. He had carried her inside, not letting her go until they were in the bedroom and he had kissed her soundly. Then came an order not to even consider lifting any of the boxes before James went to help the movers.

Sarah Jane smiled at the memory as she entered the door. It would always come to mind every time she came home, which certainly wasn’t a complaint. She yawned, dumping her keys in the bowl next to the door. Too tired to head all the way upstairs, she walked into the reception room instead. Her coat was dumped unceremoniously on a box, followed by her purse. With all the packages mailed out, all she could do now was to wait for calls regarding interviews. Yawning again, Sarah lied down on the couch. She kicked off her shoes as she closed her eyes and placed a hand on her stomach.

But Valerie didn’t seem content on letting her mother sleep. The quickenings were starting to occur a little more regularly than it had earlier in the week when she first felt them. But halfway through the week, she had started to discern the butterfly flutters from among other bodily activities. And right now, it seemed, it was acting up at full force.

She groaned, rolling over on her side and reaching for the television remote from the floor. While Sarah Jane enjoyed television more as a child, as she grew older she found herself watching less and less. With the nearest book seeming miles away, however, reading was not an option. She began to flip through the channels, stopping at each for no more than a handful of seconds. But at the sight of a familiar blue box, she froze.

That wasn’t right.

That couldn’t be right.

That was…

Sarah sat up slowly as she watched a woman in a leather jacket back out of the room which contained the TARDIS. The woman looked so very, very familiar. The eyes, the face… For a few moments, Sarah Jane forgets to breathe. She can only stare at the television screen. At the woman in the jacket and the overly familiar man who had now joined her.

If facial recognition hadn’t been enough, the words out of the man’s mouth proved it. “Hello Sarah Jane.

It’s you,” the woman replied. “Oh… Doctor…

She moved toward him and Sarah Jane shook her head. That was her smile on the woman’s face. Her look of amazement at seeing the Doctor, just some twenty-five years older than she was now. It was impossible. It was incredible. Lost in her own thoughts, she barely heard the conversation that followed about regenerations and looks.

I thought you’d died. I waited for you and you didn’t come back. And I thought you must’ve died.

I lived. Everyone else died.

What do you mean?

Everyone died, Sarah.

Like the Sarah Jane Smith on the screen, the one leaning forward on the couch could only stare in awe. While the older one couldn’t believe that it was him, she could not believe she was seeing this. How could this be happening? This made absolutely no sense…except for the fact it did. Indubitably.

I can’t believe it’s you.” Any further statement was cut off by the screen. “Okay! Now I can!

Unable to take it any more, Sarah Jane grabs the remote off the floor and shuts off the television. Then, she sends the control flying across the reception room. That can't be right. It just can't. Surely James would have told her. Surely!

She shakes her head, closing her eyes and leaning back against the couch. She's too shocked for tears right now. Mostly, she just wants to forget what she has just seen.
his_sarah_jane: (frightened)
Stranger Danger

She had been in worse situations before. In fact, she was certain that she had been in stranger danger in the past. Sarah Jane had been kidnapped by robots, tortured by Sontarans, and possessed by mutated spiders. She had faced Daleks and Cybermen without backing down and had saved multiple worlds many times in her life. Sarah had always led a life full of danger, be it through her investigations as a journalist or as the Doctor’s companion or as James Bond’s wife.

It was a fact that she had learned a long time ago not to deny. Better to deal with the matter head on than to pretend such events were not a part of her life. The more willing she was to accept it, the more she thought capable of getting out of such situation. Back when she travelled with the Doctor, she considered it a good thing as it meant not disappointing the Doctor. Now, there was much more at stake: a daughter and husband to get home to. She couldn’t avoid danger, but she could certainly do her best to get out of it.

Like most incidents, she hadn’t meant for this to happen. At age thirty-four, Sarah Jane believed herself incapable of being kidnapped anymore. There was, after all, a distinct difference between stumbling into the top secret meeting of some sort of secret organization and finding yourself abducted from the a tea shop during lunch. The first had happened often enough, despite Sarah’s attempts to the contrary. Even with ten years of experience, she had always been a little too eager to get the scoop for The Observer.

But it really had been years since she had been properly abducted. Any of James’ enemies who knew about his family knew that they were a difficult bunch to catch. Valerie was fiercely protected by both parents. And both, even Sarah, were capable of defending itself.

When she had heard rumours of Hugo Drax’s reformation and release from prison, Sarah Jane had jumped at the opportunity for the interview. Her editor had agreed as Sarah had been the one to report on the foil of his plot seven years ago. James had been less than thrilled when she told him, promising that they would meet in broad daylight at the Lyons Tea Shoppe in central London. She would take every precaution and, she said, return home in one piece.

Yet, it had turned out that Hugo Drax had not been as reformed as he had claimed to be. Like most villains in a B-movie plot, he wanted revenge at the couple who had prevented his attempt at the destruction of London. As thrilled as Sarah had been to receive the interview assignment, Drax was even more so. The interview had started out normal enough. Sarah Jane had purchased the teas, not trusting Drax alone with her cup for a moment. There was absolutely nothing dangerous in the air. It was just too former opponents meeting to discuss the results of a prison sentence.

Then, as she left the shop, everything went horribly wrong. She had reached into her purse to pull out her mobile, needing to call Valerie’s primary school and let them know that she would be a few minutes late. Distracted, she didn’t notice the brute behind her that clutched a rope tightly in his hands. Sarah Jane struggled as it slipped over her head, strangling her and pulling her in to the alleyway towards a van on the other side. But he was stronger than she was and, in the end, Sarah slipped unconscious.

When she woke up, she found herself inside the hull of the Deimos-5 rocket, part of an attempt by the recent revival of the British Space Programme to send another satellite into space. Drax’s company had helped to fund the building of this rocket with the promise that Drax himself was not allowed within the government premise without the accompaniment of multiple guards. Yet, somehow, he had found a way to sabotage the mission to suit his own purposes. This time, he had no intention was not to start another world war through the destruction of London. He only wanted to ruin her and James’ life. To do so, he planned to let Sarah have the front row seat inside the rocket when it launched.

Sarah Jane, however, didn’t trust him. Oh, she believed that he was set on sending her to her death but she didn’t trust that Drax would do anything good for the nation. She was certain that, somehow and someway, this rocket would explode over London before even leaving atmosphere. She had been in stranger situations in the past but never had she felt before that she was this doomed. As far as Sarah knew, her mobile was lying with her purse in the street where she had been abducted. No one knew where she was.

It was dark in here. She could barely see centimeters in front of her. Her hands were bound tightly and her throat still felt sore. How could she ever get out of here? Sarah sighed, closing her eyes as tears dripped down on to her cheeks. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to go home to her husband and her daughter. She wanted to write the bloody article that got her into all this trouble. The crying lasted for minutes. It wasn’t the strangest situation that she had ever been in, but she had to admit: it was the most dangerous.

When the feeling of self-pity finally passed, Sarah found herself with renewed strength to get out. She couldn’t wait for someone to rescue her. As she had decided moments before, there was no way for anyone to find her. She had to get out on her own. Sarah Jane fumbled around in the dark, trying to get her tied hands to the front. In the process, her sonic lipstick fell out of her pocket. The clatter startled Sarah for a moment before she realized what it was.

Never in her life had she been more grateful for the Doctor's gift of sonic lipstick. He had given it to her months after their initial row over the way she had altered her own future by marrying James. It was an apology present; one he said would blend in easily on Earth and prove to be useful as well. He had been right. Not only was there a setting for cutting through rope, but there was also one to cut through metal.

Then came the hard part. Sarah gulped as she stared downward. She was so very high up at the top of the rocket. The last time she remembered being in such a situation, it was on Skaro as she had tried to escape slavery at the hands of the Thals. She had been caught then, after nearly falling to her death more than once. It had been absolutely horrible. The sheer height was dizzying. She wasn’t sure if she could handle it.

But as last time, scaffolding wasn’t so far away. She just needed to reach out and grab it. She could do it. It was the only way to possibly get home. It would be the only way to possibly stop the rocket launch, as well. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to make that leap. In the end, climbing down on the scaffolding had been much easier than climbing up had ever been. This only left disabling the rocket which, given the sonic lipstick, was very easily done.

Sarah laughed when she saw the look of surprise on James' face as she stepped back from the rocket. There was a smudge of oil on her face from tinkering with the rocket and there was rope burn on her wrists and neck. Her husband, on the other hand, was mildly battered, clearly having been in a fight with Drax and whatever assorted henchmen that had interfered. There were cuts on his face and bruises on exposed skin. She wasn’t certain how he had found her, but Sarah Jane didn’t care. Seeing him was a sight for sore eyes.

They walked over to each other slowly, all danger put aside now. Carefully, Sarah put a careful hand on his cheek as soon as he was within range. He gripped her waist tightly with the lesser bruised of his arms, pulling her close to him. James stared down at her, blue eyes searching and studying ever single bit of her face. Sarah was certain she wouldn't get him to let go of her any time soon. She didn’t care.

"Next time," she promised, caressing his cheek. "You can be my knight in shining armour next time. But every once in a while, I do prefer to save myself."

In response, he only kissed her soundly. Blood and saliva mixed together as the couple stood there in a passionate embrace. The roar of sirens could be heard in the background, a crescendo of sound to accompany this moment. Sarah Jane had faced stranger danger in the past, but she had never had such a sweet reunion as this.

[ooc: based on milliways bar continuum]


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Sarah Jane Smith

April 2011

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