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: (older!sarah - really frowny)
005.What is the best prank you ever pulled on someone or someone played on you?

Sarah Jane could hear explosions coming from downstairs. While explosions were not all that much of a strange occurrence within the house on Bannerman Road, the location was. Typically, she confined such activity to her attic. Luke and Clyde knew better than to try and muck up her living space. After all, the two boys learned the hard way – when a bottle of Racksonian goop somehow found its way all across her Persian rug.

Explosions radiating from downstairs had henceforth become a dangerous phenomenon for all involved.

With a frown, Sarah Jane pushed aside her laptop. The article for the Sunday Times could be put on hold for the time being. Aside from explosions and Clyde’s occasional whoop of joy, it seemed almost too quiet down there. Sometimes Sarah ridiculed when she got like this, playing the part of the nervous mum rather than the more competent woman she believes herself to be. And other times – well, apparently that sixth sense of trouble sharpened the longer you had children.

“I’m coming down,” she shouted when she reached the stairwell. Given the turn of the staircase between the first floor and ground, Sarah couldn’t quite see what was going on yet. But oh, she could warn them. “And if there’s any bit of slime on my floor again, Clyde, I’ll make sure to cancel that upcoming holiday to Cardiff. I’ll just take Maria instead.”

“’s alright, Sarah Jane! Absolutely no slime about. Right Luke?”


For whatever reason, she doubted that the return exchange actually made her feel any better. There was something going on down there. Sarah Jane didn’t waste a moment more. She sighed and hurried down the steps, crossed the living room when unable to spot any teenage boys, and found herself in the telly room.

It was inside this room that she found Luke and Clyde, the latter’s eyes glued to the television while the former kept looking back and forth between the screen and his friend. Luke seemed confused (a typically normal state for the four month old thirteen year old boy) and sounded out a steady stream of questions from the small look of annoyance on the other’s face.

“What’s that again?”

“It’s the GACTIC, remember? Generations and comparative times in cosmos?”

Oddly enough, the GACTIC that Clyde was referring to on the screen reminded Sarah Jane of another acronym. Rather than a little blue police box, though, the object - well, space ship Sarah assumed – was a little red phone booth, roughly the same size and the same and shape as her Doctor’s precious TARDIS. She watched as two characters circled about it: one a rather petite dirty blonde woman clutching the camera hung around her neck and the other a rather average looking bloke wearing a white lab coat and stethoscope. Her lips pursed into a frown as Luke and Clyde fell quiet, allowing her to more than easily hear the dialogue.

The woman pouted, giving the man a frustrated look. Whatever he had said while the boys were talking had annoyed her. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and the camera zoomed in so Sarah could easily see a pair of clever brown eyes. Then, it panned out again to allow the viewer to see the telephone booth and two individuals.

“I don’t understand why you keep having to circle about the GACTIC every time we step out, Edmund. Doctor What has taken you on more than enough trips by now, hasn’t he?” She tapped a foot, arms crossed around her chest and tangling with the white scarf tie she wore around a silly looking sailor blouse.

A rather familiar looking sailor blouse, come to think of it.

Edmund gestured back to the booth. He was dark skinned with curly brown hair and a demeanor that reminded Sarah Jane very much of either Harry Sullivan or Mickey Smith. “Because! It’s far bigger on the inside, Susie Ann. And I’m afraid that, no matter how many times Doctor What takes us inside, I’ll never understand the complexities of—“

He never had a chance to finish the sentence, though. A flash of bright light whitened the telly screen for a second and explosions started up again. Laser shots and sounds (of highly inaccurate look and noise, if you asked Sarah Jane) ricocheted across the grassy expanse the GACTIC now appeared to be parked on. Golden, robotic looking men stepped in to view – they were the individuals responsible for the sudden mayhem. Their voices sounded metallic (“Stop or you will be exterminated.”) and they had daft looking antennas sticking from where the ears would otherwise be.

Susie Ann gasped. “Autotrons!”

“Duck,” Edmund shouted, reaching in to his pocket for something. Wide eyed and panicked, and with poor, poor acting, he shook his head. Susie’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I’ve lost it! Goodness, I’ve lost the GACTIC key.”

“See? I told you that I should have held on to it. Can’t have a man do a woman’s job, as I always—“ Edmund reached for Susie Ann’s hand, pulling her to the ground when another volley of laser beams flew in their direction. She had been too busy preaching to bother with the danger at hand. Sarah Jane watched as Susie growled at him, her camera on the ground, cracked and broken.

But that wasn’t the worse of it. As Edmund and Susie Ann attempted to crawl behind the telephone booth for cover, another man came running in to the scene. He had wild, curly ginger hair and a horrendously brightly coloured scarf that left Sarah Jane in amazement. Like another man she once knew, his scarf was impossibly long and yet, he never tripped over it the entire run. Unlike that man though, the one on the screen was rather dashing, in a very geeky sort of way.

“Susie! Edmund!” The newcomer shouted as he pulled a pen out of his trench coat pocket. He aimed it in the direction of the golden Autotrons and it emitted a funny electronic beeping sound and bright green light. Suddenly, the Autotrons all dropped their weapons as not a single one appeared to work anymore.

The image on the screen switched over to the woman. She was beaming at the sound of the newcomer’s voice and stood, despite Edmund’s protests.

“Doctor,” she shouted back happily as she began the sprint over to him. “Oh, Doctor What! Of course you came! You always make it- ahhh!”

The piercing scream nearly gave Sarah Jane a headache. Yet, she continued to stare at the screen transfixed. Clyde leaned forward on the couch, elbows resting on knees and head resting on hands. Luke merely blinked a few times, but he remained just as engrossed as Susie dropped to the ground, clutching a bloody wound on her waist. A woman dressed in black smirked evilly in the corner of the screen, her presence unbeknownst to the other characters.

Doctor What fell to his knees besides the woman. He gently lifted the blonde head of hair on to his lap as he pushed part of his scarf on top of the injury to stop the bleeding. He was grief stricken as his brown eyes bore down on the women. He placed a light kiss to her forehead and brushed the fringe out of her eyes.

Then, he whirled his head about to glare at the man. “Edmund, you imbecile! You should have never let Susie Ann keep you out here. Well, what are you standing around for? You’re the doctor of medicine, are you not? Do something.”

“My kit is inside the GACTIS,” Edmund choked out. The panic on his face persisted, but unlike prior when it had been about the attack, it now clearly was about his friend’s life. “And I can’t find my key.”

Gravely, Doctor What aimed his sonic pen at the telephone booth door. After the return of the green light and beeps, the door swung opened. Edmund nodded, saluted, and dashed inside.

Susie blinked her eyes wearily, struggling for breath and wincing in pain when Doctor What pressed down harder on her wound. Sticky red liquid began to leak between his fingers. He frowned but never cried as he stared down at her. “My Susie Ann. Oh, I never should have let you come to Syxros with me.”

“Do… don’t blame yourself,” she replied in a small voice. Tears rolled down her face and she attempted a weak smile when he brushed them away. “Would’ve… pact with… alien robots. Would’ve made a… made a great story. And...” Susie Ann choked on her breath and gasped. “I love you, Doctor.”

Her eyes closed and she fell limp in his arms. Doctor What pulled her up in his arms and hunched over to rest his forehead against hers as he hugged her tightly. Anger was the only emotion readable on his face as he whispered back, “I love you, too, my Susie Ann.”

The screen went black.

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant,” Clyde shouted excitedly, throwing the telly remote on the couch as he jumped up in jubilation. He turned to beam at Luke. “Wicked, wasn’t it? I can’t wait until next week. The Mistress sure is going to get it, isn’t she?”

Luke blinked. “Get what?”

Revenge! You know Susie Ann will live, but even so, Doctor What isn’t going to stand for this at all.” It was about at this point where he remembered that Sarah Jane was in the room, still leaning against the door frame and staring at the telly screen as if she had just seem some ghost. Clyde blinked, but otherwise remained unphased. “Totally wicked, wasn’t it, Sarah Jane? It doesn’t beat any of our adventures – of course - but there’s definitely a reason why Doctor What is currently BBC’s highest rated program.”

Sarah Jane shook her head. Now that the television was actually off, she had a moment to think. Well, mostly a moment as it was rather difficult to contemplate what the bloody hell it was that she had just witnessed while Clyde babbled away. Doctor. Susie Ann. A flipping journalist travelling in a telephone booth with a sonic pen wielding man.

Oh. This had to be some sort of alien conspiracy. Absolutely no other way to explain it existed at all. At all. She shook her head and took a deep breath before her eyes narrowed on Clyde.

“What,” she said slowly and sternly, “was that?”

Doctor What,” Luke interrupted with a small smile on his face. “Clyde says it’s what everyone is watching these days and that it would be a social miscalculation if I didn’t watch it. We’re at the end of season three-“

Series, Luke,” Clyde corrected with a roll of his eyes. “It’s a series, not a season.”

“But Do-“

“Oi, trust me on this one, will you?” Luke shrugged and Clyde grinned, giving Sarah a look that very much meant there had been far more many mistakes uttered by her son today. “He got the rest of it right, though. Pilot was originally lost in a fire, but they replaced the kilt wearing companion with a plucky journalist babe and ever since, the new series has been a complete and utter hit! Even when Michael Owen left – that’s the original Doctor What – over type-casting shi- I mean barmy, it’s still wicked good.”

“Maria says that this new Doctor, Peter Williamson, is gorgeous. I don’t understand that.”

Girls,” Clyde echoed in agreement after a mock suffering sigh that got Luke grinning a little. “At least Sarah Jane here is too cool for something like that. Told you there was no slime about.”

Or, thought Sarah Jane, there was no slime of the non-metaphorical type about. She placed a hand to her head and collapsed on the couch Luke was sitting upon. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying for the longest of seconds to forget everything she had just observed. It was too late. The images were burned in her retinas, awful reminders of a life she had left behind.

“It really is good, Mum,” Luke chimed in a moment later. His voice was quiet and earnest. “I like Susie Ann Jones the best. She reminds me of you.”

“Except when she and Doctor What guest starred on Blazetimber and that whole bit with the scarf bondage an’-“

What?” Sarah Jane’s eyes were wide and furious. She sat straight up on the couch and stared at
Clyde with an expression of complete disbelief. “What scarf bondage?”

“Eh, don’t tell my folks, okay?” Apparently, a post-watershed show was completely proper to inform Sarah Jane about, though. The mumsy part of her wanted to be responsible. The absolutely outraged and shocked part, however, won out. Sarah nodded and Clyde continued. “Blazetimber’s a spinoff show they started last year, see, with Major Marc Birdie, that’s a lot like CSI with way more shagging. Susie Ann got infected with an alien parasite with a craving for orgasmic energy and seduced Doctor What and Major Marc. So…”

From the corner of her eye, Sarah Jane noticed Luke shift uncomfortably. Apparently Clyde had been busy filling Luke in about girls and relationships without her knowing again. Either way, she doubted that she could handle any more information. There were far too many coincidences cropping up for Sarah to feel comfortable. Perhaps, so far, the only misconception she couldn’t place was all this talk of sex and love.

“Please. Please stop, Clyde. I’ve heard just about enough.” Sarah stood from the couch, straightening her skirt as she did. This whole thing sounded ridiculously like an absolutely horrible prank. But she couldn’t think of anyone who would play such a joke. Clearly, a few more facts were needed. “Three series, you said?”

Clyde nodded, looking mildly perplexed at the sudden renewed interested.

“And, tell me, is there anything like UNIT in the show?”

“Now that you mentioned it, there is a Brigadier with a mustache that winds up being this alien organism and a crew of military men always mucking things up in their red berets. Suppose that is kind of like UNIT, isn’t it?”

So, so unfortunately so.

Without any more questions, Sarah Jane thanked both boys, asked them to keep the volume down during the next episode, and left. Perhaps she ought to question Mr Smith for information, but right now, Sarah needed to sit. More than that, she needed fresh air and a break from any sort of electronic device that wouldn’t let her contact Alastair. This was far worse than any Dalek, Slytheen, or sontaran she had ever faced.

This was an absolute ridiculous parody of her very own life broadcasted for the entire bloody world to see! The joke was far from amusing.


It didn’t take long for her to dial the number on her mobile, nor for him to pick up at home. After exchanging pleasantries, it also didn’t take long for Sarah to obtain the information she wanted. She never had been one to beat around the bush, after all.

But as she had learned before, sometimes the answers you looked for were not the answers you desired.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me! To convince the public how ridiculous it is that there is possibly no way for an alien to go about in a blue box and rescue the planet? This was Torchwood’s idea, wasn’t it?” Sarah sighed. “Have you ever even watched the show, Alastair? It’s absolutely horrible. Oh, I see how it can help, but still…

“My son’s friend is trying to talk him into watching. Yes, I’d like to think they’d both know better. And I will tell Luke that you send your love. Really, there’s nothing you can do? Certain of that?”

He was, much to Sarah Jane’s disappointment. Her pacing was starting to wear on her nerves, so finally, she took a seat on the patio swing. She craned her head upward to stare up at the twilight sky, watching as the first stars started to make their presence known. There was absolutely nothing that could be done except hoping that this fad would pass soon. However accidental, Doctor What remained an absolutely horrible prank in her opinion. She didn’t deserve to have her life plastered on the telly.

None of them did.

And yet, she supposed as a shooting star passed over the horizon, it could be far worse. At least the Doctor would never have any inkling of this atrocity.

Maybe he had been right about those ‘daft human television programs’ after all: nothing but rubbish.

[ooc: Again, credit goes where credit is due. The idea of Doctor What is not mine but [livejournal.com profile] telyn_timber’s. But because she is awesome and doesn’t want to write this up herself, I’m doing it for her. Think of it as a graduation gift or part of belated birthday gift (that I will get you some day) or something of that. ♥]
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: (older!sarah and luke)
005.What was your safe place as a child?

She couldn’t find him and it worried her. With Maria visiting her mum this weekend and Clyde away on a family camping trip, Sarah Jane couldn’t possibly think of any place where Luke may have wandered off to. The boy was one of the most conscientious individuals she knew. He’d even leave a note when running across the street to the Jacksons’. At the very least, there’d be a text waiting on her mobile.

Right now, though, Sarah couldn’t find any such note. Her mobile was completely silent. Even Mr Smith was unaware of Luke’s present location. As she stood in the living room, looking around for some sign of her son, Sarah Jane ran her hands through her hair. She felt frantic, almost panicked. While it wasn’t an unusual feeling for her, typically life-threatening, world-ending reasons were involved. Never before had she felt a worry like this on a pleasant Sunday evening over Luke’s failure to show to supper.

There had been reports of Slitheens filtering through the UNIT radio waves again. It almost seemed that since their initial invasion of Downing Street, the green farting aliens couldn’t stay away from the planet. Given their own recent dealings with the family from Raxacoricofalipetorius – and the fact that Sarah had found Luke’s mobile lying on his bed – a possible abduction continually crossed her mind. Mr Smith’s scan of the house had registered no other life forms present.

“Oh, Luke,” she murmured, sighing as she collapsed on the couch. “Where are you?”

She considered calling Maria and Clyde to see if either had heard from their friend. But calling would mean admitting defeat. It would mean that she had failed as a mum, unable to keep track of her own son. This whole experience made Sarah Jane realise what it must have been like for her aunt when she was Luke’s age, always wandering away from the Bannerman Road house without as much as a shout goodbye. No wonder Aunt Lavinia was relieved when she had finally gone off to uni.

Sarah Jane could only stay seated for so long. With another sigh, she stood from the couch. She glanced at her watch and pocketed both phones. After a long look about the room, she started to walk towards the back door. Maybe some fresh air would do her some good. Maybe she would recall something that Luke had said last time she had seen him, this morning in his room working on his coursework.

The flowers were in full bloom. As the sun set, small lamps flickered to life. The lights in Mrs McKenzie’s home also illuminated the garden. For a few moments, Sarah felt at ease. She let herself remember another time, when this house wasn’t hers but her aunt’s and a young Sarah found wonder in every summer night. That was long before she became a journalist, long before ever meeting the Doctor.

The garden had been her safe place back then. There had been a willow tree all those years ago, and Sarah would hide underneath its branches. Whenever she had a row with her aunt, she’d grab a book and run outside. It was the spot she chose to spend every anniversary of her parents ‘death. After she lost Andrea, Sarah barely budged from beneath the tree.

She smiled softly, kneeling at the spot where the tree used to reside. She ran a hand over the stump – all that remained. The willow had been chopped down sometime after Sarah Jane had moved out. She remembered being saddened the first time she had returned to Ealing, for Christmas during her first year at university.

“I could certainly use you now,” she told the stump. Sarah laughed dryly. “Someplace to hide as I accept my failure at this motherhood business. I can’t find him, you know. Luke’s completely disappeared on me, even skipped his favourite meal. And I have no idea what to-”


The voice sounded sleepy and confused but to Sarah Jane, it was the loveliest voice she had ever heard. She stood quickly and turned around. A bright smile appeared on her face when her eyes fell on Luke, standing there with leaves in his hair, a book (The Three Musketeers) in one hand as the other rubbed at an eye.

“Oh, Luke,” she exclaimed joyfully, rushing over and pulling her son into a tight hug. She wanted to scold him, to tell him never to wander off again. It would do nothing though. Sarah Jane knew better: he and Clyde would still wander off on misadventures. Besides, it appeared as if he hadn’t meant to disappear at all. “Oh, wherever have you been?”

“Over there,” Luke answered, pointing to a corner of the garden where a small hammock had been set up. “Clyde ‘n I found it the other week and I’ve been going out here since. That is alright, isn’t it? Or have I made another social miscalculation in setting it up without your permission?”

Something told Sarah that it was Clyde who probably set it up rather than Luke. She laughed and shook her head. “It’s more than alright. In fact, it looks quite lovely. Perfectly matches my swing.”

Sarah Jane beamed up at him and brushed the leaves out of her hair. Unlike any other thirteen year old boy, Luke just smiled and didn’t fuss at her action. His brown eyes were still so very sleepy. For all her worry and fright, she didn’t even have to forgive him. She wasn’t angry at all.

“I love it,” she continued. “Every young person your age needs their own place to hide away from the world. Did I ever tell you about the willow tree, then? It used to be right here and was the pride and joy of Aunt Lavinia’s garden.”

He shook his head, stifling another yawn. Luke’s stomach rumbled. “I think I fell asleep. Is it time for dinner yet?”

“Yes, Luke.” Sarah laughed happily, the last of her fear dissipating into the night sky. Perhaps she didn’t fail at motherhood after all. A part of her still remained skeptical, but Luke was safe. There had been no Slitheen kidnappings, no other alien visitations of any kind. Just a hammock and a nap someplace that Luke now called safe. Her life was dangerous, yes, but right now she had been defeated by the completely mundane. “Yes it is.”

“Brilliant,” he muttered as she wrapped an arm around him to go back inside. “I’m sorry I frightened you, Sarah Ja- mum. I don’t think you’re a failure. I quite like having you as my parent.”

“Me too, Luke,” she whispered. “Oh, me too.”
his_sarah_jane: (writing)
If your life was a story how would you write the final chapter?

Epilogue: Twenty-Nine Days Later

In the end, he came too late. The sun slowly set behind the hill as he somberly stood in front of a tombstone. It was a rather unremarkable tombstone. He could not find it fit at all for this rather remarkable person. The words had already become subjected to weathering. Although faint, his old eyes could see the smoothing of the edges. In a hundred years, in a blink of an eye, they would be gone. He contemplated a world without her. The thought was haunting.

Usually so clever with words, today he found himself silent. Time was his friend. Time was his enemy. Time had once again stolen someone so dear to him. Even with all the wibbily wobbly timey wimey stuff, certain things were set in stone. He could not go back. She would never enter his life again, her smile and her voice bringing a joy to his two hearts. This was the final ending, the final goodbye.

He despised every moment of it.

“She thought of you, you know.”

The voice didn’t startle him. Any other individual would have jumped, as lost in memories as he was. But he never would. He barely even turned his sad eyes away from the tombstone to look at the gangly youth, a lad probably in his mid-twenties.

“We told her she shouldn’t go – Clyde and I did. Torchwood and UNIT working together; it was a crisis beyond anything any of us had seen before. But she didn’t listen. She said it was what you would do. She said she had to go protect those she loved.

“I don’t think this is a social miscalculation, talking to you. I think it’s what she would have wanted, for you to know that you were in her thoughts in the end.” The gangly lad tipped his red beret. “I’m glad I finally met you, though. Thank you for making her a part of my life.”

As suddenly as the stranger had appeared, he was alone again. The sky shone with stars now and the moonlight casted an eerie glow in the cemetery. Somewhere in the forest behind him, an owl hooted. She had a toy owl. It had been hundreds of years since he had seen it, but he remembered. She had offered it to him. He had told her to keep it. He should have kept it. He had never wanted to let go.

He never wanted to say goodbye, not to his granddaughter, not to his friends, not to any of the companions he collected over the centuries of police box travelling. Yet, in the end, time forced his hand. He lived. And for all but one, they died. The lonely god some had called him. In this moment it seemed truer than any other title. The lonely god was all alone and no amount of travelling could ever make up for that.

“You were right, that time. It had been goodbye.”

He had been too late. From afar, he had watched her die. Her youthful smile, impish and eager, had been silenced from the world. Tears were foreign to him. He could not find it in him to cry for her. She would not have wanted that.

The white rose he had been holding finally dropped on top of the mound, resting gently against the marble.
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
Write two letters to two different people. In one, threaten. In the other, apologize.

based on Milliways Bar canon )

spoilers for ‘The Lost Boy’ )
his_sarah_jane: (older!sarah and luke)
She can't remember the last time she has really felt this nervous. It isn't been the first time Sarah Jane had brought Simon home to show him Ealing and her little world. But it is the first time she has brought him home to meet her son. It is, quite possibly, the first time that she has brought anyone of the male persuasion home to meet her son.

Sarah is, quite surprisingly to herself, a nervous wreck.

The dinner table is properly dressed with a table cloth. There are candles and flowers on the table and she has actually spent a good part of her day in the kitchen. Her best silverware and dishes aere out on the table. And, she thinks, the meal smells decent enough. She likes to cook, on occasion. But Sarah Jane knows that she is far from being the best cook in the world.

Now she only needs Luke to come home from Clyde's. She turns to smile at Simon, glancing quickly at her watch.

"He ought to be here any moment."
his_sarah_jane: (older!sarah - reflective)
Devil's Advocate

"What about this one?"

Sarah Jane stopped the trolley short as the Doctor jumped in front of her with a box of Fruit Loops. She couldn't figure out why her friend had been so insistent in joining Luke and herself in a shopping trip at the local Tesco. The Doctor didn't usually enjoy domestic. Sarah had just written it off as yet another quirk with this regeneration. The Eleventh, if she counted correctly. And the first female Doctor she had ever met. While just as daft and brilliant as all her other selves, there was something different about this Doctor.

She had been stopping by quite often now, ever since Sarah had randomly met her while running from a Slitheen. Rather much like the Doctor, she usually showed up at the worst of times. Rather unlike the Doctor, she had also taken an interest in Luke that almost bordered on motherly. It honestly drove her quite insane.

"It only has 9 calories of fat. And look, Luke," the Doctor continued, now shoving the cereal box in the boy's face. She tossed back her scarf, smiling far too brightly for Sarah's taste. "A toucan! I had one of those once, you know. Such a good friend, that bird --- much more willing to listen to me than your mum ever was."

Luke blinked, reaching one hand forward towards the box curiously. "I've read about them. It--"

"Doctor," Sarah Jane spoke up, interrupting her son. She held out a hand for the box and when the Doctor so eagerly handed it to her, she placed it on the closest shelf rather than in her trolley. "I know you've been going through my cupboards. You should realize by now that I don't approve of such cereals."

Clyde complained about it every time he stayed overnight, deciding that Sarah Jane's company was much more acceptable than his own mum's. Not that it ever changed her mind. She was determined to raise Luke with as much of a normal life as possible for the two of them. Ruining your health with improper breakfasts was not normal in Sarah's opinion. And Luke never complained. He didn't seem ever to mind.

"Toucan, Sarah Jane! And absolutely no cholesterol! You can't ask for more than that." The Doctor blinked, smiling prettily at her. She pulled out a paper bag of jelly babies from her coat pocket, offering one to Luke before popping another in her mouth. "Or we could just buy more jelly babies and give him that for breakfast. Only 335 kilocals. Absolutely a brilliant way for a growing boy to start his day."

The Doctor was absolutely mad! Sarah Jane sighed, coming close to glaring at her. She noticed Luke blink in confusion from the corner of her eye and sighed again. She placed a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Would you mind fetching the eggs, Luke?"

He nodded and began to walk away before turning around for a moment. He looked far too earnest for Sarah Jane's liking. Luke hesitated for a moment and then spoke. "Maria said her parents rowed a lot before they split up. Don't go, Doctor? Mum really does like having you around. So do I."

"See?" The Doctor said smugly after Luke had wandered down another aisle. "Luke needs a second mum. And I can't think of anybody better to fill that role than me. And don't tell me you can, Sarah Jane. Because that's completely untrue. I am your best friend, after all. I can help raise him! It'll be an adventure!"

For a few seconds, Sarah wouldn't believe her own ears. The Doctor despised domesticity. She had seen him frown every time she suggested they go to Aunt Lavinia's for Christmas Day meal back when she had travelled with him. But now, now that she had found a way not just to interfere in her life again but that of her son's? Oh, of course the Doctor would stick about. If just to remind Sarah Jane what she couldn't have anymore. Not with this whole gender change.

"Luke doesn't need two mums! He has me!"

She was close to yelling and, at the very least, her words earned a strange look from a passing elderly lady. Sarah Jane felt herself flush in embarrassment. She hadn't meant it like that. The Doctor was a woman now. Gender swaps had ruined everything. But still, only the Doctor ever knew how to properly get her this riled up.

"You're nothing but the Devil's advocate right now, Doctor. Picking arguments with me over every single way I'm raising my son. I promised Luke a normal life, you see. You said there were wonders on Earth to explore when we said goodbye and that's exactly what I intend to keep showing him. Instead you keep filling him – and Maria and Clyde, might I add! – with stories about places he won't get to because I'm only human! And that's exactly what he is. He doesn't need another mother, let alone a Gallifrian one who knows nothing of human customs! I made a promise and unlike you, I keep my word."

There. Sarah Jane had said it all. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her calm. Tesco wasn't the place for a row like this but she couldn't help it. Luke didn't need someone who would keep disappearing. And neither did she for that matter.

When there was no response, she began to busy herself with finding a proper cereal brand off the shelf. Sarah had never blown up at the Doctor like this before. She had always been too infatuated when she was younger and then, when they met again, she fancied herself as too mature. The silence lingered. With every passing moment of no response, she began to feel more and more guilty. The Doctor hadn't stormed away, not yet anyway. The only footsteps she had heard were those of pesky eavesdroppers hurrying away from the other end of the aisle, presumably from a stern Doctor's glare.

Finally, Sarah forced herself to look up. What she saw hurt even more. She had never seen this sort of look of disappointment or hurt on his - her, she corrected herself – face before. It was as if she had kicked a puppy dog that had only wished to befriend her. Instantly, Sarah Jane felt horrible. She needed to do something that she had always been loath to do: apologise.

"I suppose trying Fruit Loops for a week won't hurt him," she said quietly, still not quite meeting the Doctor's eyes. "At the very least, it's quite the step up from candy for breakfast."

The Doctor smiled. It was a bright smile, one that seemed not to take into account any of their previous argument. "I knew you'd see reason! Now we just need to get him a proper toucan to keep him company at breakfast time!"

Then, before Sarah had the chance to respond, the Doctor pulled her in for a tight hug. She had to smile despite the mild awkwardness she felt; and in the end, it wasn't as horrible to hug a female Doctor as Sarah Jane would have thought. She leaned her head against the Doctor's chest (who would always be taller than her, wouldn't she?), not caring at all what any passing busybody thought.

When they pulled apart, she laughed and smiled. "Luke's not allowed to start calling you mum yet, though. Not unless you really do start sticking around more."

The Doctor shrugged, reaching for the box of cereal and throwing it in the trolley. "I've always wanted to be called Auntie! Auntie Doctor: has sort of a ring to it, don't you think?"

She had to agree. Considering everything, Auntie Doctor didn't sound so awful after all. Luke would be lucky to have someone so special in his life. As it was, Sarah felt honoured to have her best friend back again, no matter the shape or form. Sarah Jane was very lucky indeed.

[ooc: based on roleplay with [livejournal.com profile] eleventh_doctor]
his_sarah_jane: (older!sarah and luke)
Innocence versus Lack of Guilt

Luke watches her sometimes. It’s late at night and she thinks that she’s alone in the attic. Mr Smith isn’t on and neither is the light. The only glow emanating from the room is the red glow of her sonic lipstick. But she isn’t using it on anything. She just seems to turn it over slowly in her hand, almost studying it as she takes comfort in the familiar hum. It’s these moments as he spies on her from the crack in the door that she actually seems her age.

These are private moments. Luke, for all his naivety, is aware of that much. These are the moments where Sarah Jane lets herself mourn for a youth well lived, a youth that was far too short. But these moments fascinate Luke. They reveal a side of his mother that she would never let the world see, or even let him see. Maybe if they were closer, he would interrupt. Maybe if they were closer, he wouldn’t keep coming to the door at night.

Tonight is different though. Tonight, oddly enough, there seems to be some sort of eagerness in Sarah Jane’s eyes. She sits on the wooden chair in the corner near her desk as per usual. The sonic lipstick is out in her hands. The red glow and the hum of the tool fill the room. Tonight, though, there are no tears in her eyes. There is no delicate fingering of old photographs and documents. There isn’t any murmuring of old stories or regrets to an empty room.

It is almost as if Luke is viewing the Sarah Jane Smith he has grown accustomed to instead of the stranger that oft appears at this point in time. He sees the stubborn and inspiring woman that he has grown fond of in a short time sitting in that chair. This is a woman full of life and excitement, the one who has always seems to remember to pack him a proper lunchtime meal ever since the incident with the Slytheens. She has claimed to make an awful mother. The woman he sees sitting in this chair is the best mother Luke has ever known. He finds himself smiling. He likes seeing her like this.

As he continues to watch, another glow and sound fill the room. His eyes widen almost at the same instant that Sarah’s do. Except his eyes are full of shock while Sarah’s appear more joyous than he has ever seen before. Her smile seems to light up the room more than this blow light does; it’s brighter than that time she introduced Luke, Maria, and Clyde proudly to her friend Josh last Boxer Day. He wishes that he could see her smile like this more often.

Any further thoughts are cut off by the appearance of a rather dusty looking blue box. It’s a box he recognizes from a prior trip to Glasgow chasing after a renegade Cyberman that had somehow survived the Battle of Canary Wharf, according to Sarah Jane. But that box had been just a cappuccino stand whose cuppa can’t compare to any made by his mother (Clyde had claimed, repeatedly, on the way home). Still, it had held some sort of meaning to Sarah that only intrigued the trio.

It’s the look that fills Sarah’s face when a lanky man in a blue suit walks out of the TARDIS that gives it all away to Luke. He hasn’t seen that sort of look ever before, but he suspects it is something similar to what Maria tried to describe love between parents as looking like. This time, he watches her more intently than he ever has. This man, despite the photograph Sarah had once showed, has to be the Doctor. Luke watches as the Doctor hugs her back just as tightly. For the first time, he feels a twinge of jealously. It is a strange feeling. He decides quickly enough that he doesn’t like it.

Jealousy, though, is soon accompanied by something he knows is guilt. This feeling he knows from sneaking off to the cinema with Clyde one Sunday afternoon and getting caught. He doesn’t like this feeling either. The Doctor has now pulled up a chair next to Sarah and the two talk in hushed tones. He notices their hands clasped tightly together and a look of sadness in the man’s eyes. He shouldn’t be here, Luke realizes. He’s being horribly rude to his mother by spying on this moment. But the guilt dissipates as he overhears snippets of conversation, curiosity drawing him in. Making another social mistake can be put aside to satisfy his inquisitiveness.

Sarah Jane is talking about him. About him and Maria and Clyde and asking the Doctor if this is how he feels every time he puts someone he cares about in danger. The strange man nods solemnly and then tilts her chin up so she has no choice to look at him.

“You’re as innocent as the day we met, Sarah,” he murmurs so quietly that Luke almost doesn’t hear him. “You might feel that guilt, but it only makes you human. It keeps you my best friend, my Sarah Jane. The day you feel a lack of guilt over Luke or Maria or Clyde’s well being is the day you can’t recognize yourself in the mirror anymore.”

“Doctor,” she replies, a quiver of sadness and vulnerability in her voice that Luke hasn’t ever heard before, “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

“Stopping a Slytheen invasion? Defeating the last of the Gorgons on Earth? Outsmarting the Bane? Blimey! That’s quite the list of accomplishments you have there. None of my companions have ever disappointed me and you, Sarah Jane, keep on finding new ways to impress me every day.”

This all seems rather strange to Luke. In front of his eyes, his mother has turned into someone else. The lady sitting there now isn’t the eager woman from earlier and isn’t the confident adult he knows. This someone resembles Maria whenever she cries to him about her parents’ divorce. He doesn’t understand. He wants to understand. So, Luke does the only thing he can. As Sarah hugs the man again, he finally steps out from hiding.

Night after night, Luke has hid behind the crack in that door. This is the first, and probably only, time he’ll ever admit to it. For a moment, he stands there awkwardly. Luke tugs at his night shirt, watching as both Sarah Jane and the Doctor turn around to look at him. They are not hugging anymore, but they are still sitting rather close. Their hands are still clasped, Luke notes with a small smile. Mum likes holding people’s hands, he wonder if this is where she got it from.

“I think I’m making another social mistake. I wanted to say hello. Mum always said that she wanted you to return.”

The hands linger together as Sarah Jane stands and wipes at her tears. Arms stretch as she crosses the room to Luke until they are unable to stretch any more. She stops in front of Luke, placing hands on both his shoulders. For a moment, he thinks that she is going to scold him like that day at the cinemas. Instead, she only laughs and shakes her head at him. Then, she moves to his right, one arm still over the shoulder. She glances down at Luke and this time, he hasn’t ever seen her more proud. Whatever he did, it doesn’t seem like Sarah Jane considers it a mistake.

“Doctor,” she says warmly, as she walks forward with Luke in tow. “I’d like you to meet my Luke. My son.”

“Hello, Luke ol’ boy! I’m the Doctor. Long time friend of your mum’s who still can’t quite get over how tall you are for your age. Six months, is it?” The Doctor stands from his chair as he talks and Luke holds out his hand. He remembers this one, the introduction. It was one of the first things about being human Sarah Jane had ever taught him. What catches him off guard is the bear hug the Doctor pulls him into the moment their hands clasp. This is far unlike any greeting he has ever received from any other adult. Luke stands awkward and stiff for a moment before trying to hug him back.

“My boys,” he heard Sarah whisper with happiness. That awkward feeling came rushing back, but he ignored it. This might not have been what Luke expected, but if it made his mum happy, he was happy.

The Doctor does eventually pull away, but not before giving Luke a hearty clap on the back. Luke smiles back at him, but not before glancing at his mother for help. She just nods encouragingly, walking back over to place her arm back around Luke. For a few moments, the three of them just stand there in silence before the Doctor (who, Luke has decided, looks rather human after all) rubs his hands together and beams at them manically.

“Whatcha say? Trip in the TARDIS for old time sake? I never did quite take you to Florana, Sarah Jane. And you, Luke,” he continues, clapping Luke’s shoulder again, “about time you saw something past this atmosphere. Guilt free trip, for the lot of us.”

A chance to go to an alien planet? His dark brown eyes widened again, this time with excitement rather than surprise. No wonder his mother liked this Doctor fellow. Just the possibility of disappearing into that police box seemed exhilarating. He looked up at Sarah Jane, trying to perfect that puppy eye face Clyde promised would get adults to do whatever he said. It doesn’t work and only results in a stern gaze that only promises trouble for Clyde the next time he stops by. Still, Sarah shrugs and laughs in the end, smiling at them both: a sure fire sign that she agrees.

“Well, I suppose Luke does deserve to see more than this daft planet,” she relinquishes. “But no hijinks, Doctor. No trouble and especially no danger.”

The Doctor nods enthusiastically as he begins to usher them towards the blue box. But before Luke steps inside, he thinks about his mum’s words. No danger? He doubts it. There’s always danger when off on an adventure with Mum. And whatever guilt she may feel over it, he’s happy that she doesn’t let it affect her.

Innocent or not innocent, guilty or guilt free, Luke Smith knows he has the best mum in the world.


his_sarah_jane: (Default)
Sarah Jane Smith

April 2011

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