his_sarah_jane: (excuse me?)
Write a conversation between your character and another using only dialogue. However, both characters are doing something and it must be obvious from the dialogue what it is.

“Doctor? Doctor, why don’t I believe you-”

“Nonsense, Sarah Jane. I assure you that I have the situation completely under control. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that I’ll have the situation mastered in, oh, two point five minutes.”

“I really don’t believe you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s you, Doctor! You’d probably think a situation is under control if we were being chased by… by a giant heard of rhinoceroses!”

“Which, I would remind you, we are not. Now, it’s not as if there’s anything dire about the current dilemma, is there?”

“…oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh?”

“Because you… you shifting that way and…














stop it, Doctor! Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

That!”

“This?”

“I really think that scarf ought to be considered a lethal weapon.

“Not to mention a form of cheating, Doctor!”

“Now, really, I must protest, Sarah. I’ve checked the rules over and there’s nothing in them about-”

“Your move.”

“What?”

“Oh, you heard me! Spin, will you? And get that right hand on yellow.”

“Sarah-”

Doctor.”










“Your move, I’m afraid.”

“My-







Ow! Bloody hell, that hurt!”

“Two point five minutes exactly, Sarah Jane.”

Cheat.”

“Really. I must protest. A Time Lord’s body happens to be-”

“And a Time Lord’s scarf? Oh, honestly! ”

Honestly.”
his_sarah_jane: (aliens are your friends)
109. He isn't stupid, his brain is full. - Overheard in NY.com (random)

“He isn’t stupid,” Sarah Jane explained with a sigh, hand placed on her forehead for a brief second. Did it really come down to this? This rather weak explanation to the most current events? “He’s just… well, his brain is full.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazzzzzzzt?”

“His brain,” she repeated slowly, enunciating each word quickly in case the drone did not understand, “is simply very, very full.”

The creature buzzed in front of her and its antennas flickered in the direction of her companion. Another sigh escaped her as she turned to give the Doctor a look, hand on hips. He hadn’t moved from the boulder he had sat himself upon fifteen minutes earlier. The end of his scarf collapsed and stretched in his hands. The folds he made varied in position and duration as a small beetle-like creature watched on a nearby bolder.

Sarah turned back to look at the drone, placing her hands on her hips. While she would not quite describe its expression as sympathetic, if it had been more humanoid in shape, Sarah was certain that would be the case.

“You see,” she said a moment later. “The Doctor is a Timelord. Now, I don’t know if you’ve heard of these things, but Timelords – and ladies, to be proper – are individuals whose brains are very, very full with… oh! With stuff, I suppose. A whole lot of stuff, really. All of time and space and eternity. If you asked him, he’d give you a much more arrogant and complex answer, but I’m telling you... Bzzzzinzzzztrzzzzzzzzzzbzzzz—“

She could never quite properly pronounce its name.

“—that this is all it is. Not stupidity. Oh no. He may be a daft git at times, but he is far from stupid I assure you.” Sarah ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just… he thinks he can talk to it – him – whatever it is! That bug over there. He really, honestly thinks that—”

“Zzzzzzzzztuuuuuupeeeeeed.”

“No.” Even if, she had to admit, communicating via scarf did seem quite ridiculous. “Just… quite full of himself. Quite full of misplaced knowledge and barmy ideas and—”

“Zzzzzzzzztuuuuuupeeeeeed.” The drone bounced up and down in a ghostly like manner. It almost seemed as if it were laughing. Its antennas flickered in the Doctor’s direction again and then back to Sarah. “Zzzzzzzzztuuuuuupeeeeeed!”

What was it people said about fighting an uphill battle? As much as Sarah Jane wanted to argue (it was in her nature, of course), Bzzzzinzzzztrzzzzzzzzzzbzzzz did have a point. Rather this was some forgotten language lost to the stars and only known amongst Timelords or not, the whole matter did seem rather…well, stupid.

Communication by scarf? Honestly?

She sighed, giving in with a chuckle. “Oh, alright. It’s stupid. Absolutely bloody ridiculous. But, well, that’s the Doctor for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The voice sounded so mournful. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

Sarah let go.
his_sarah_jane: (aiming the rifle)
You know how when you're listening to music playing from another room? And you're singing along because it's a tune that you really love? When a door closes or a train passes so you can't hear the music anymore, but you sing along anyway... then, no matter how much time passes, when you hear the music again you're still in exact same time with it. That's what it's like.
- Music From Another Room.


“Give it to me,” you say with more force in your voice than you’ve ever used before. He doesn’t respond, only giving you a look. You repeat your words – “Oh, just give it to me, Doctor” - and this time, rather than waiting for an answer, you take the rifle from him.

There is so much activity around you, has been since the two of you had snuck out in those daft robes that absolutely envelope you. Maybe it’s for the best. After all, he had warned you about coming out of the TARDIS. You were supposed to stay hidden, safe in your room where she would protect you. But you had argued. The two of you were in this together and, for whatever reason he had been called back to Gallifrey (a lie), you were going to help him. The mind wipe was worth the risk, you had claimed, because you thought deep down you could never forget him. He’s rather like that song that won’t leave your head, you explain. Best friend, family: through thick and thin.

You could never leave him. And finally, he caves, warning you to stay close.

So you do. Despite the imminent danger, despite the fact that this is clearly all some ploy, you still get a thrill in meeting old professors and classmates. He had a life before you, just like you had one before him. It’s strange to actually see it come to life.

But now? Now things have gone horribly wrong. The crowd roars with confusion. The President has just been shot. And look, over there! The pair that had been crying wolf about an assassin had a gun! No one believes your innocence. The guards are coming up the catwalk, ready to arrest you. So a decision has to be made. And while the Doctor just stands there, professing his innocence, you make it. As much as it hurts your journalistic pride, he has always been better at putting the pieces together. If anyone can figure out who is behind this, it’ll be him.

“He’s innocent! It was me. He was trying to stop me!”

You take a step forward to the guards, holding up the gun. He calls your name behind you and it brings tears to your eyes. You turn around and smile softly at him. It’s apologetic. Completely and totally apologetic, completely and totally love struck.

“I’m sorry,” you say. That step you had taken is retracted as you close the gap between the two of you. You place a hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before placing your hand on top of the scarf, in between his two hearts. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Doctor, but it has to be me. They’ll listen to you, you know that. And you’ll rescue me. That same old song, remember? You always rescue me, Doctor.”

“Sarah--”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him, but this time, you’re not sure. These are the people he ran away from. The people who wiped Zoe and Jamie’s minds. You know you have everything to fear. So you pull on the scarf, bringing his head close to yours. His curls mesh with your fringe, the tip of his hat touching the crown of your head. You look at him, tempted to kiss him so much. You have never seen him look this lost, never seen him look this angry. “I promise you, Doctor. I’ll be fine. You’ll figure it out, get me released, and then we’ll go about travelling in the TARDIS as if this never happened.”

When his fingers touch her cheek, caring and tender, you know you need to pull away now. You can hear the shouts of the guards behind you. It’s now or never.

“I love you, Doctor,” you whisper. “It’s why I really couldn’t leave you after all.”

Then they grab you. The take the rifle away from you and hold your arms in vice-like grips. You steal one last look at him, your Doctor, before they lead you away down to the cells. In his sad blue eyes, you see your world. All the happiness, danger, joy and suffering the two of you have shared together. You smile at him and mouth those four little words again.

You spend less than a day in the cells before you discover the true identity of the assassin: Chancellor Goth. But he isn’t working alone and no matter how hard you try to find out the identity of his accomplice, it eludes you.

Even your rescue eludes you. Goth arranges for a secret trial, one the Doctor knows nothing about as he campaigns for your innocence.

Guilty.

***

Day forty-five since the villagers found you. Although your amnesia hasn’t gotten any better, your strength has returned. You’ve become a more productive member of society. You can help in the plants now. You’re slowly relearning how to read and write, relearning how to cook and plant, relearning how to question. But you have so many questions that remain unanswered. Assumptions do not work for you and you have no idea why.

Maybe in another year, the lack of a past won’t bother you anymore.

As you help gather fluteberries in a field, you hum a familiar tune. Your mind has been buzzing with those lately, although no one has been able to help you place them. It doesn’t matter. Your family accepts you for who you are: Allasa Nan, the foundling. And it really is nice to have a home. It really is. Still, sometimes when you look to the stars, you can’t help but wonder what you’re missing.

Soon enough, your basket is full of berries. As the dark begins to fall, you know it is time to return to the village. Your foster parents will be expecting you home for dinner by now. You begin the trek back when something catches your eye. It’s blue and boxy and looks very out of place in the fields. A shiver runs down your spine. You should head back, warn the elders.

Instead you stare. You continue to stare when a door opens up and a man steps through. He looks at you with a sort of awe. Slowly – no, not slowly – a manic grin spreads across his face. It’s a familiar grin, like those old tunes you can’t quite get out of your head.

“Sarah Jane?”
his_sarah_jane: (her doctor)
What makes you smile or laugh no matter what?

The first time Sarah Jane tried a Jelly Baby, she had spit it out seconds later. Eric Jennings had offered it to her, sticky handed and gap toothed and horribly shy. It had been a love token, apparently, and eight year old Sarah had rejected it without knowing any better. When Eric began to cry, she insisted that it hadn’t been her fault. Jelly Babies were awful, full of fake sugary sweetness and pretend fruit taste.

If she wanted to eat a strawberry, she said, then she would’ve gone to the market to buy a bundle.

Thus, the first time the Doctor offered her a Jelly Baby, Sarah Jane was suspicious. The man in velvet she had gotten to know and care for had been gone for less than a week, replaced by this towering clown. She didn’t understand it. He suddenly became aloof and a stranger, wanting to leave Earth and UNIT behind.

No more humans, was that it? The thought stung. Sarah didn’t think she was ready to leave him yet.

She looked at the small brown paper bag in his hand. She could see the various child shaped candies, in those horrible neon colours. They hadn’t changed much since she was a child. They probably tasted just as disgusting, too. Sarah was hesitant. She didn’t know why he was offering her one. Right now, she thought, there was very little that she actually did no.

The bag was pushed closer to her. Sarah Jane looked up to see a hidden sort of pleading in his eyes. That desire to leave Earth apparently was not the same as a desire to leave humanity behind. He wanted her to come with him. And this was his way of asking.

Very hesitantly, Sarah reached into the bag and plucked out a sugar dusty green baby. She eyed it suspiciously before popping it into her mouth. It took effort to chew, to swallow and mask the still awful taste. But this time, she smiled.

His smile, bright and manic and absolutely barmy, made her smile even more.
his_sarah_jane: (pensive)
Five times you said yes and meant no.

It’s cold outside. That’s the first thing the four year old girl notices when she steps outside of the small Liverpool house. It’s cold for the month of May and she blames it entirely on the business trip her parents are going to have to make. Her birthday is next week. She’ll be five and grown up. Her daddy seems so proud. He promises to bring her back a surprise. Her mother laughs when she overhears the conversation:

“It’ll be brilliant, my little Sarah Jane,” Nigel Smith says, ruffling the girl’s hair. “You’ll absolutely adore it. But the only way you’ll be getting this surprise is if you promise to be a good girl for your aunt Lavinia.”

“I will!” Sarah smiles a gap toothed smile, attempting to look as innocent as possible. Her answer to her father is a yes. But both her parents know that it isn’t the truth. She’s too curious, too mischievous, too anything to be the proper good girl her father wants. Still, she says yes, even when she means no.

“Wonderful.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around Alice’s waist. “We’ll be back soon, alright, darling?”

That cold May day, the Smith parents and daughter exchange truths and lies in their farewells. Neither are ever meant to be kept.


She wakes up with a gasp. The room is dark and her breath is heavy. She pushes her fringe out from her eyes and takes another gasp. Blankets fall around her body. It had been that dream again, more memory than fantasy: saying goodbye to her parents as a child, her aunt telling her how they had died. Sarah Jane is twenty now, but fifteen years later and the memory of that day still haunts her.

The body next to hers stirs. She rubs her eyes, trying to act as if nothing is amiss. Andrew will never understand, not in a million years. His life is perfect. He expects hers to have been just as much: the perfect journalist and the perfect girlfriend, now the perfect fiancée. They’ve been sharing the flat in Nottingham since the end of her second year at university. He’s a light sleeper. She despises that.

“Sarah, love?”

A light sleeper and clearly awake now. Sarah sighs, sinking down into the sheets and trying to pretend that she’s still asleep. The trick doesn’t work; brown eyes bear down on her very soul.

“Was it another bad dream?”

She shakes her head. Andrew looks at her doubtfully.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh, of course it is, Andrew.” This lie is starting to come so easily now. Everything is always all right around him. Nothing can ever be out of place. “Just a bit of a fright, that’s all.”


To make up for her failed engagement, Sarah Jane finds herself diving deep into her burgeoning career. It’s easy enough to do and soon enough, she’s relocated to South Croydon and started a promising job with Metropolitan paper. The prospects are exciting. She’s assigned a column – her very own column to do whatever she wants with. All of this is almost enough to make her forget about Andrew and forget about the way he compromised her values and forced her to finally say no, not everything is all right after all.

Then she makes a mistake. It’s a simple enough mistake. Dinner at the local pub further down on Hillview Road has been a normal occurrence while she’s still busy moving in to her new flat. What isn’t normal is the man that starts to talk to her from a nearby table. Gary Noble: a nice enough bloke and far from plain looking. She finds herself laughing again and even smiling. The meal passes quickly.

“It’s a nice night out,” Gary states as they stroll down the lane towards her flat. Their hands occasionally brush as they walk closely together. Originally, she had protested his offer to walk home. Now, she’s happy that she didn’t refuse. “The stars seem to be twinkling ahead. It’s lovely, and the company even lovelier.”

“Exaggerations won’t get you everywhere,” she retorts playfully. Sarah Jane’s eyes twinkle. Harmless flirtation – this she can handle. She comes to a stop in front of a door and smiles up at him. Their walk is over. From the way he looks her over, he knows that too.

Gary smiles and cups her cheek gently. “Will it get me an invitation up to your flat for a cuppa?”

Instantly, the scenario plays out in Sarah’s head. It wouldn’t be just a cuppa. It’s too soon to start anything. Her heart is still on the mend. But oh, he seems so very charming and he’s so very gorgeous and it could be… oh, well, couldn’t it just be a one night sort of thing? A fling, a shag, no complications in the morning.

“Yes.”

No. No, no, no. She can’t handle another man this soon.

“It certainly will.”


“I'm not listening.”

Alien monsters, robber barons, a bloody invasion of London by dinosaurs. She had stumbled in over her head when investigating the disappearance of those scientists, disguising herself as her aunt in order to scoop those other curious reporters. Her previously simple world has been turned upside down. The stars in the night sky don’t look the same again. Even a simple passerbyer on the city sidewalk deserves a second glance.

And it’s all because she snuck in to that TARDIS of his when she wasn’t supposed to. Breaking the rules, it appears, has consequences after all. Sarah Jane absolutely refuses to do anything more of the sort. She wants her life to return to that mostly peaceful thing it was. No more aliens for her, thank you all the same.

“...and its seas are as warm milk and the sands as soft as swan's down,” the Doctor continues, leaning closer to her as he talks. There’s a twinkle in his eyes and his face is littered with happy wrinkles
“No, Doctor,” Sarah insists. Hands move from chest to ears, absolutely refusing to listen to this. Her mind has been made up. He isn’t going to win. She’s determined. There will be absolutely no more adventures for Sarah Jane Smith this point out. She wants a normal life, complete with an absolute guarantee that she won’t ever nearly escape death again.

“And the streams flow with water that are clearer than the clearest crystal...”

Sarah Jane shakes her head. Somehow, in some way, it does the trick. The Doctor sighs and takes a step back from her. He frowns, placing a hand to his chin. Then he shakes his own head. Disappointment flashes across his features.

“You’ll never find a beach like this on Earth. Now, Sarah Jane, you really don’t want a normal, humdrum life, do you?”

“Yes. Yes, Doctor, I very much do.”


No. No she doesn’t. She doesn’t want this life. She doesn’t want to be here on Earth. Humdrum, dull lives are for other people. They aren’t for people like her. People like her know death at an early age. It has to be their constant companion in some form or another. Excitement, adventure, pain and joy: all of it. She craves all of it in her life. Love and bliss and domesticity are for other people. Sarah Jane could have had that once.

Up until this point, she has been more than happy she said no.

It is a yes she never intended to say. She never intended to go home. She never intended to leave. All of it, every complaint and every scolding and every pout, all of it had been a rouse. All Sarah had wanted was his attention.

Tears in her eyes, she’s ready to run back to the TARDIS. He couldn’t have gone off yet. It’s too soon. He ought to be watching her leave, that forlorn alien look in his eyes. Sarah stops dead in her tracks. Her breath catches in her throat and she can’t take it anymore. Slowly she turns and starts to dash back. However will he get along without her? That sonic screwdriver is only good for so much, after all.

It’s not there.

He’s not there.

He’s not there.

Her goodies drop to the ground as Sarah chokes back a sob.

He’s gone.

All because she had said yes, she'll take her leave of him for now, when it very clearly had been a no.
his_sarah_jane: (excuse me?)
95. sapid: having flavor, especially a strong pleasant flavor. (words)

She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected this at all.

He had stuck his hand over her mouth to silence her. If you asked Sarah Jane Smith, the Talynians were quite backwards. Treating their women like second class citizens despite being in the fifty-first century of societal existence was absolutely not appropriate. Someone had to speak for those who couldn’t. And when she and the Doctor had been invited to meet the Talynian Emperor, Finyargo the Third, no force in the universe, not even the Doctor himself, could stop Sarah from speaking her mind.

So he had stuck his hand over her mouth to silence her. And, in order to get him to remove it without making herself out to be too much of a fool in front of the royal idiot himself, she had stuck her tongue out to tickle his palm.

But she hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected his skin to have such a sapid quality, such a… Sarah Jane actually found herself at a loss of words in trying to describe the taste. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before. It was almost as if no other taste could compare.

She debated questioning him later. They were alone on the TARDIS, their visit to Talyn II having gone completely awry after Sarah had decently riled up the First Consort to the Emperor and her sister-wives. The women’s liberation movement had been set into full swing and all Sarah Jane received for her efforts were scolding after scolding from the Doctor.

Quickly, Sarah grew weary with it. The Doctor’s arrogant Timelordian rambles weren’t anything new to her, especially in this incarnation. But she had other thoughts on her mind at the moment. Surprisingly, they had nothing to do with the uprising she had inadvertently caused. No. These thoughts were all about the Doctor and the wonderful flavour his skin possessed.

It made her wonder if he tasted like that everywhere. Was it just his palm? Had he perhaps slipped his hand into something that created such a taste? Did his mouth taste sweeter? And what about…

He had noticed. The atmosphere in the TARDIS console room had suddenly turned overbearingly quiet. In fact, if Sarah concentrated hard enough, she could have sworn there was a hint of jealousy floating about. Jealousy? Over what? That inquiry was dismissed when she realized that he was staring again. Staring and contemplating and if Sarah didn’t know for a fact that the Doctor didn’t read minds, she would almost swear that he was doing thus right now.

In the span of a heartbeat, the silence and the thirst for answers became too much. She took three broad steps across the room, placed a hand one of his shoulders and used the other to pull his head down into a kiss. Sarah flicked her tongue out at his lips, seeking entrance, wanting to know if the taste was the same. At first the Doctor was stiff. Then, there was a miraculous parting of his lips and she discovered that the inside of his mouth was just as sapid as his palm.

The stiffness returned and she backed away quickly. Confusion and curiosity (and jealousy) floated about the room. He fiddled with his scarf, picking at the end fringes as if unraveling them. She shrugged, tried to grin, but Sarah Jane was certain she looked absolutely awkward as she tried to explain.

“You tasted… well, oh, you remember that lick? In the throne room? You tasted… what was that?”

He answered with something mumbled. The Doctor moved a hand to his head, scratching at his hair. She picked up words like biology and pheromones and sensitivities and erogenous and Gallifreyan and time and mating. In the end, Sarah concluded that his… his taste had something to do with a vestigial monthly reproductive cycle, rather like her period (as she blurted aloud, much to both of their further embarrassment).

It was a scent she couldn’t smell, yet it was a taste she could most certainly taste.

“I wanted to know,” Sarah continued after more silence passed. Apparently (some corner of her brain noted), talking about Gallifreyan mating rituals was an effective way to get the Doctor away from lectures. “Well, I wanted to know if you… oh, if you tasted like that in other areas.”

The Doctor sputtered and Sara h blushed. This was positively more embarrassing than that time on Phototron. At least she had been pissed and couldn’t remember most of that.

“Just… oh, just forget it, Doctor.”

He sputtered again and this time Sarah didn’t wait for a proper response. She turned and began to walk (then run) down the hall. This situation was becoming far too messy. She couldn’t take it anymore. Talking out of line was one thing. Discussing sex with the Doctor? That was something else entirely.

Next time, she reminded herself, she had to keep her tongue in cheek.

Quite literally so.
his_sarah_jane: (bright grin)
1. Make a list of the gifts that you would give to other people, if money and power were no object.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

It had been another night of strange dreams. )

[ooc: some scenarios mentioned roughly based upon role play games sj is in: [livejournal.com profile] milliways_bar, [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub, and [livejournal.com profile] relativespace.]
his_sarah_jane: (sleeping)
Write about a lie your parents told you.

You remember it vividly. Despite all the thoughts and memories that rattle about in your head, this one always stands out. It’s a simple enough memory, and even if it ought to be as old and faded as a sepia folder, it remains strong. You don’t know whether you ought to despise it or treasure it. After all, it is the only real memory you have at them. But then, every time you remember, your heart gets stabbed with a knife all over again.

It’s worse than remembering the day he left you. And sometimes you wonder how anything could be worse than that.

Sometimes, you wake up breathing hard. You’ve been shot at, poisoned, and tortured. You’ve killed, you’ve had people die for you, and you’ve been unable to save someone else in time. You have all these memories that ought to haunt you. None of them ever do as this one does. Other nightmares never leave you waking with tears in your eyes. Other memories don’t cause you to shiver like this one does.

”It’ll only be a couple of days, darling.”

You roll over in your sleep, clutching the pillow tightly.

”Your mother deserves a break, don’t you think? And Aunt Lavinia is really looking forward to taking care of you for a while.”

The blankets start to fall as you kick them.

Arms wrap around her, tender and loving. A face nuzzles in her hair, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. She moves away, frustrated and sad.

You hug the pillow closer.

”Oh, don’t worry, my Sarah Jane. We’ll be back with plenty of time to spare for your birthday. It’s only a couple of days, not a couple of weeks.”

He smells like old cigars.


You can only remember that smell in your dreams. In your dreams, that smell reassures you. In reality, it makes the bile rise in the back of your throat.

”And we’ll throw an absolutely wonderful party! Your aunt will still be in town, after all. She promised not to head back to Ealing until after.”

As your eyes clench, a tear escapes.

He hands her a stuffed owl. It’s the best gift he ever gave her. She hugs it close, staring up at him.

“Take care of Owly. We’re counting on you.”


The years claimed Owly so long ago. It’s another stab at your heart.

”We’ll miss you every day, Sarah. But we’ll be back soon. I promise.”

The stabs are starting to come more quickly now. One tip of a knife slices into your heart. Then another, and another, and another. The tears come quickly too. You might be sobbing, but you’re still fast asleep.

”And you know your mother never lies, luv.”

But she does lie. She does and the memory of it hurts you so much. Your knees pull up to your chest. Your arms abandon the pillow to clutch around your legs. The fetal position brings little comfort. Nothing brings comforts on nights like this. You keep crying. But as the cries continue, you become closer and closer to waking up.

One night, he walked in on you crying like this. He didn’t understand at first, even as you explained the memory and the nightmare. He never had parents the way that you did. They were never taken from him the way yours had been taken from you. You wept in his arms as you told him the story. It had been so long since you spoke it aloud. But the pain is dulled by his arms.

Tonight there is no one to hold you. You cling to yourself and all those horrible memories of people leaving you. It starts with the first time. It’ll always be the hardest time.

Tonight, that lie is your only truth.
his_sarah_jane: (life or death moment)
Blind leading the blind.

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

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

Sarah quirked an eyebrow "Harry?"

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

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

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

"Oh! Doctor! Stop!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sarah nodded slowly. "Your point, Doctor?"

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

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

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

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

"You mean to say," Harry began slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---
Muse: Sarah Jane Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
his_sarah_jane: (her doctor)
Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane. (Philip K. Dick)

“Doctor, what are you doing?”

“I mean it Doctor! I bloody well want an explanation to all of this!”

“Yes, that means now. When do you think it means? Three years from now?”

“If you really think I’m wearing that, then you’re highly mistaken.”

“It’s hideous is what!”

“Of course I wouldn’t be caught dead in it!”

“Neither should you, for that matter.”

“Because it’s ugly!”

“No, I really don’t care if it’s all the rage on Pigovian Three. We’re on Earth.”

“Oh, where else do you think Jo and Cliff would throw a fancy dress party?”

“That’s not very funny, Doctor.”

“Quit it, will you!”

Doctor!

“That’s much better now, thank you. But there’s still the matter of that… that thing.”

“Yes, it’s a matter!”

“It’s hideous, Doctor! And I for one will not be caught in its counterpart.”

“Don’t you give me that look.”

“I. Am. Not. Wearing. It.”

“Why? Because it looks positively insane.”

“I don’t care if Phillip K Dick said that it’s the appropriate response to reality. It’s childish, Doc-”

“You’ve mentioned that before.”

“It doesn’t change the facts though. “

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Anything but that, alright?”

“Couldn’t you pick something a little more… well, flattering?”

“You have to admit it’s a tad silly.”

“See?”

“No, not that one either. How about… oh, how about this one? We’d still be a matching set. Just… not quite as obviously out of place.”

“Doctor, it’s because you’re out of place at every single social event we’ve ever been to. I doubt this party will be any different.”

“Oh, put it on, will you?”

Thank you. Now, do you need help with the ties or can I go and change into this dress?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Of course not, Doctor. If we were going to a party on Pigovian Three, I’m certain that you would have looked quite dashing in it.”
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
Obstinate

I.
“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!”


II.
“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.”


III.
“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.”

“So?”

“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.”

“Sarah…”

Now.


IV.
“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.”


V.
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: (yes?)
1. [Canon] "My name is Sarah Jane Lofts and my husband is a successful television journalist. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

2. [Canon] "Doctor, I'm not going anywhere anymore. I've had it up to here with police box travelling. This time, I'm taking the train home. Harry and the Brigadier really do have the right idea."

3. [Milliways] "We almost had a child, James. I... I never thought that I would be so sorry to miscarry."

4. [Theatrical Muse] "In fact, Kane, I believe that I will take you up on that offer."

5. [Canon] "I think I rather like it here now that that bug-thing is gone. These people on Nerva need someone to show them how proper Brits run things. I wouldn't mind helping."

6. [Milliways] "Well, Jack, I'm certain James wouldn't mind. We'll come, certainly. Just give me a when and where and I'll be certain that he's there."

7. [Ten Spot] "I don't think that I can take much more of this conversation, Doctor. If you don't propose right now - oh, I swear that I'll walk out of this TARDIS and never return."

8. [Canon] "Mum! Andrew actually kissed me last night!"

9. [Relative Space] "I think, Doctor, that that tattoo suits you rather well. It certainly stands out among all those ruffles. Are there any other surprises I should-- oooh!"

10. [Canon] "I think that, despite any spot of common sense, I've fallen madly in love with you."
his_sarah_jane: (considering)
020. TEN lives you've never lived/could have lived

1. [Canon] White picket fences and a kitchen filled with the latest gadgetry. It wasn’t the first time Sarah Jane felt that she was living in an American suburb advertisement and she doubted it would be the last. Longingly, she stared out the window as she waited for the bus to drop off Alice and Trent. Andrew would be home from work soon, she really should start dinner. It was moments like this, when the dreariness of life as a housewife took over that Sarah regretted her decision. Twenty was far too young an age to marry. She never should have said yes.

2. [Canon] She couldn’t understand it. He looked so different now. He acted so different now. Sarah had seen him die with her own eyes. This man in front of her couldn’t have been the Doctor she had first met. It didn’t make any rational sense, even in a world that didn’t make any rational sense anymore. But there was no use dwelling on it more than necessary. She had made up her mind. Now that the crisis with the robot was over, there was no need in hanging about anymore. Sarah Jane had a career to get back to. She had explained as much minutes earlier when she came to UNIT HQ to say her goodbyes to the Doctor. Without a look back, she continued forward.

3. [Canon] When she said her last words, Sarah Jane was over a hundred and much older than she had ever expected to live. Somewhere out there in her universe, her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren roamed the stars. Wanderlust, it seemed, had been genetic and Sarah was content with letting them live the lives they wanted. After all, that was exactly what she did and oh, what a time it had been. Stowing away in the TARDIS that day the Doctor had tried to drop her off on Earth after receiving a call from the Timelords had been her most brilliant idea. Until now, neither had ever been lonely. And as she faded from this world, Sarah made her Doctor promise that he wouldn’t stay lonely for long.

4. [Milliways] It hadn’t been a false alarm. Her recklessness had finally caught up with her. There wouldn’t be any more trips with the Doctor, no eventual adventures with James. Sarah Jane’s future had been decided for her in one single mistake. But as James rubbed at her swollen belly, saying daft words to child inside of her, she didn’t consider it so much of a mistake anymore. Valerie was due to be born any day now; it was an event both looked forward to with trepidation and delight. Neither of them ever had a proper family growing up, but together, Sarah knew as she gave her husband a fond smile, they had found what they were missing.

5. [Milliways] Sarah Jane hadn’t quite sold her soul to the devil as given him her heart, freely and happily. At some point, sex with Sam had turned into something much more. He was still her friend, certainly, but she had started to see him in a different way. She had always known that Sam was rather gorgeous (and it didn’t really surprise her much given his background), but there was something more about him now. Something she hadn’t recalled feeling in a long time. As she laid in his arms that night, oblivious to the rest of the universe around them, she figured out what it was. Somewhere, somehow, Sarah had fallen in love. She was doomed.

6. [Theatrical Muse] She had been too late. That one fact would haunt her forever. With tear-filled eyes, Sarah watched the funeral pyre burn in the icy night. The sky was clear, much clearer than the night they had landed here days ago. But it was as cold and desolate as she remembered. Kane stood by her, an arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder. No matter how much she despised the pilot, she needed the comfort right now. Her best friend was gone. And she never even found out how much he had understood when she had whispered “I love you” the night before.

7. [Milliways] Except for that one-time pregnancy scare, she hadn’t ever planned on being a mother. But when Allana came into the bar two days ago, everything had changed. Her four year old friend was covered in dirt and grime, bruises and scratches covering her skin and tears in her eyes. There had been an explosion in the palace and, Sarah found out soon after, Hapes had been dragged into a war that had encompassed the rest of Allana’s galaxy. She had never planned on being a mother, but after meeting Allana’s father (though the man wouldn’t admit it) Sarah knew she had to try her best. He had been willing to give up his daughter to a stranger from another world to keep her safe. It gave Sarah a lot to live up to. As she walked over to his table to explain the matter, she only hoped James was willing to see this through with her.

8. [Relative Space] Sarah Jane had stormed away from the rest of the group after being stung by that flipping jam fish. For once, she had absolutely no intention in sharing in with the excitement, still too lost and confused by everything going on about her. The universe was ending and yet they were on Florana on a short vacation of sorts. But despite finally making it to Florana, she felt as if she was trapped in a never ending disaster. By all means, she probably was. So caught up in her own self pity, Sarah Jane didn’t notice anyone following her. When a hand grabbed hers, she turned around, startled. Sarah found herself looking up into the Doctor’s kind eyes, white hair mused by the wind. It was certainly a nice face to look at, she realized as she smiled back uncertainly. That uncertainty disappeared entirely when he kissed her. Everything but the two of them disappeared for that one lingering moment: the eye in the oncoming storm.

9. [Canon] Sarah laughed with excitement as she scored the winning goal of the playoff game. Never before had she performed this well. Certainly never before had she actually made a goal that made all the difference in the end. Her hockey stick was thrown to the ground as the ten year old girl ran forward to her team mates, joining them in excited shouts of celebration. From the corner of her eye, she caught her parents in the stands. They were clapping more enthusiastically than any other person, clearly proud of her. Sarah Jane laughed again, this time with anticipation. There was going to be a party in the Smith household tonight.

10. [Milliways] Every time she walked past the graveyard, Sarah was filled with a pain of what might have been. It hadn’t been a year yet and the ache inside her certainly hadn’t dulled. When James had died, it was unexpected, shortly after their first date. He had been called away on a mission to Cuba. She had waited a whole week for him to return, unable to get back to Milliways without his help. But he had never shown up. She had been abandoned in a world not her own. She hadn’t even had the chance to fall properly in love with him. Walking by that one graveyard always hurt. Yet, she never knew how to change routes.

[ooc: ya'll? i <3 you for inspiring these responses. you know who you are.]
his_sarah_jane: (i want to cry)
Write a ficlet that starts with the following sentence: There was no sound, nothing at all, except for...

There was no sound, nothing at all, except for the quiet hum of the TARDIS as Sarah Jane wandered down the hall. The twists and turns of the maze of walkways never ceased to amaze her. It almost seemed as if she never took the same route twice; yet, she always found her way to the room she wanted. The Doctor had tried to explain it to her once, but Sarah had shrugged it off. As long as it worked, she didn’t really want to hear the complicated physics explanation behind it.

Tonight, however, was an entirely different case. She had awakened from a nightmare in the midst of the TARDIS’ sleep cycle covered in a cold sweat. It was a dream that had haunted her since her youth: her subconscious’ own rendition of her parents’ death. She despised it. When she was a child, Sarah Jane would typically crawl in to her aunt’s bed after the nightmare. Now, as an adult, that option was no longer viable. So she wandered the hallways of the TARDIS instead, determined to get rid of the chilling feeling that crept down her spine.

Sarah had no direction tonight. She only wanted to escape the images in her mind. As she walked, the halls of the TARDIS seemed to go on forever and ever. The Doctor always joked that it was bigger on the inside, and while she knew that to be fact, Sarah had never felt as overwhelmed until now. A part of her almost wanted the Doctor to come and take her hand as Aunt Lavinia did when she was a child. That ridiculous notion was dismissed instantly.

As Sarah Jane continued down the hall, she could feel her eyelids start to grow heavy. How long had she been wandering? It was starting to feel like forever. And it would take forever to get back to her room, wouldn’t it? She shook her head sleepily, unable to keep the yawn from escaping her lips. A short sit down on the floor suddenly seemed welcoming. After another yawn, Sarah relinquished to her body’s tired needs. The floor was far from uncomfortable as she discovered as she tucked her knees against her chest.

Just a small nap…

When she awoke, it was to the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway. They broke the silence of the TARDIS night. She opened her eyes curiously, expecting to see the Doctor wander down the hall. She blinked in confusion when the figure came closer, revealing a female body in place of the expected lanky male one. The confusion rapidly became an awed fear as realisation hit: Sarah knew this woman.

“Mummy?” she whispered in a small voice. Somehow she was able to get to her feet, unable to take her eyes off of the woman in front of her. “Mummy? Is that really you?”

The woman nodded, taking a few steps closer before stopping in front of Sarah Jane. She reached a hand outward, stroking Sarah’s hair softly. For scarcely a second, Sarah closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. It had been so long since she had last seen her mother, years and years. She never wanted this moment to end. Sarah was convinced that if she looked away for even a second, it would all vanish like a dream.

But when she opened her eyes again, Alice Smith was still standing in front of her. She looked as every bit radiant as Sarah remembered: the same dark brown hair and brown eyes, a pixie face full of hidden mischief and obvious love. It was a face she had only ever seen in dreams or a picture frame for the past nineteen years. Taking another chance, Sarah Jane closed her eyes as she hugged her mother, burying her face in Alice’s hair. She felt tears threatening to fall and ignored them. This moment was too precious to waste.

“My little Sarah,” said Alice as she finally moved a step away. She kept both hands on Sarah’s shoulders, the same loving smile still firmly in place. “My, how you’ve grown.”

There were so many things Sarah Jane wanted to say in response. The only words that did come were a squeaked “I miss you” before the tears fell. Alice lifted one hand to Sarah’s cheek, gently wiping at the tears. The action felt so familiar that for a moment, Sarah wondered if it was really happening. She was in the TARDIS, wasn’t she? And her mother was dead. It didn’t make sense. But in some ways, it made all the sense in the world.

As the mother and daughter reunited in one of the many expansive hallways of the TARDIS, a still sleeping Sarah was unaware of the reality around her. As she slept soundly, lost in a much more pleasant vision, she had no idea of the man holding her or the way he manipulated this one particular dream. There was no sound, no sound at all, except for three hearts beating in sync. It was a sound Sarah Jane would never hear.
his_sarah_jane: (life or death moment)
If you could read my mind right now... Talk about a conversation when what you said was not what you were thinking.

“But you will have a much closer view.”

If Cybermen were capable of something such as laughter, Sarah Jane Smith was certain that this one would have been laughing as it walked through the door. A few seconds later and not even the metallic clipping of metal on metal could be heard. She was alone, tied to a chair by tightly wound metal ropes with no hope of escaping the side control room – let alone Nerva – in time. No matter how hard she struggled, Sarah just couldn’t get free from the bounds that held her to the chair.

Her elbow still pulsated with a dull pain that became sharp every time she tried to struggle. It had to have been only fifteen minutes since her struggle with the Cyber Leader that had resulted in the bruise. She had been thrown roughly to the floor after a failed attempt to prevent the creature from detonating bombs attached to the Doctor and a couple others, bombs that thankfully the Doctor had already disabled. But even now, he was in danger. He and Harry were still so far away on Voga and Sarah Jane had absolutely no way of contacting them.

In about fifteen more minutes, Sarah was going to die as Nerva crashed into the golden planet, the beacon filled with bombs. In about fifteen more minutes, both of her friends were going to die to. The thought depressed her, made her long for one more moment with the Doctor, just so she could tell him how she really felt about him. He had become more than her best friend. He had become the world to her. Unless she escaped with a warning in enough time, she never would get that chance.

With renewed vigour, she began another struggle to get free. It was easier to ignore the pain in her elbow this time as she focused solely on the task in front of her. If she maybe twisted her arm like that…or move this wrist to be like that…

Then, as if in a story, Sarah heard the sound of freedom. It was the transmat beam located a few rooms down making that whirligig noise that indicated an arrival. Her struggles stopped immediately as her head looked upward out the door, craning to see as far as she possibly could. She doubted it was a Cyberman; they were all fleeing the space station as she sat waiting, seconds ticking by. Who was it?

The whistle answered everything for her. She was familiar with that whistle, more than familiar to be honest. Laughing with relief, Sarah Jane whistled back a short high note that the Doctor complemented seconds later. Her heart swelled with delight. Even if they couldn’t stop the Cybermen’s plans in time, at least she’d get to tell the Doctor how much she loved him. At least she wouldn’t have to die alone.

Sarah Jane would have sworn on her mother’s grave that she had never seen a more lovely sight when she saw the Doctor’s head of curly brown hair stick out behind a computer station of sorts in the next room. Oh, how she wanted to tell him so much. “Doct-”

The very loud “shh” that interrupted her knocked Sarah back to her senses. They weren’t out of danger yet.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

It was clear that her apology was accepted as the Doctor flashed her a manic (and positively delightful) grin as he entered her prison chamber. She beamed back with the widest smile she could muster, completely forgetting how much she despised playing the helpless victim. And so she began to struggle again, if mostly for her and the Doctor’s chagrin. He was alive. He was here.

He – wanted to know where the TARDIS was. No “Sarah, are you okay?” or “Sarah, you brave girl” or “Sarah, I love you” (not that she had expected that last one, but being so close to death for the second time in the span of the day did do things to a girl). It was only an inquiry to the presence of his daft machine that had gotten them into this trouble in the first place! She was only thankful that he couldn’t see the disappointment cross her face as worked on unfastening the cords.

“TARDIS?” Sarah couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice. Didn’t he realise the peril they were in? Didn’t he realise how he had almost lost her twice today? “Listen Doctor, the cybermen are loading this beacon with bombs and they’re going to smash it into Voga!”

“Are they?” As the last of the metal binds slipped off her wrists, the Doctor walked back around to face her. She noted the concern on his face, but there was little else to give her any sort of hope. She stood quickly and began to rub at her wrists as he continued. “And we’ve got about nine minutes before the Vogans aim their rockets at us.”

What?

Her eyes widened and there was certainly fear present on her features as she stared up at him in surprise. He couldn’t have mentioned this sooner? He couldn’t have told her, instead of questioning her on the TARDIS, so that she would’ve been able to tell him how she felt before it was too late? This was… Oh, this was horrible. Did he even have a plan?

“Oh wha-” She never got to finish her inquiry before the Doctor moved past her, pointing to a couple of objects lying on the computer behind her. She recognized them instantly: the cybermat weapon that had nearly killed her once today and its control box. In a way, she supposed, it did answer one of her questions. The Doctor did have a plan. But there still remained one more answer she needed.

“Get the control box. We’ll see what we can do.”

That was not it.

He brushed by her arm as he reached for the cybermat, sprinting out of the room the second his hand closed around it. Sarah moved slower, still lost in the thoughts that plagued her. There was no guarantee that whatever the Doctor had planned would work. Should she tell him now? Would he admit anything to her? Oh, she wanted to so much. Just a few simple words and her conscious would be relieved before she died. It wasn’t so hard. She could do it.

“Doctor!”

She stood there clutching the control box, midway across the room when he finally turned around in the door way, looking at her inquisitively. Probably wanting to scold me for wasting time, she imagined. He tilted his head, cybermat in both arms, and gave her a mild frown. “Yes?”

Now or never. She could do this. Sarah Jane had never known herself as one for decisiveness before. So she ran forward, stopping a pace in front of him. She smiled, meeting his blue eyes and losing herself in them. This was it. She was finally ready to tell him. After all those near misses, after all the times one of them seemed dead.

Five......

          ......little......

                            ......words.

“It’s good to see you.”

...that wasn’t it. Sarah blinked and despite the smile she had plastered on to her face, she suddenly felt very confused. That wasn’t it at all. She had meant to say “I really love you, Doctor.” Not “it’s good to see you,” which in her opinion really just sounded daft. What was she thinking? Why couldn’t she say it? He was the Doctor, he was her best friend. And this seemed like the perfect moment more than any.

It took her a second to realize that the Doctor’s confused look only had worsened. “It is?”

Was he really that obtuse? There was little Sarah Jane could do to keep herself from flushing faintly. She nodded eagerly as she smiled awkwardly, hoping one would outplace the other. “Um, yes.”

She never should have opened her mouth at all.

“Oh, well.” The Doctor smiled awkwardly as he reached out to pat her upper arm. Never ever, ever. Not in a million and one years should she have spoken. It was too late now, but never before had Sarah regretted an action this much. It was absolutely mortifying, to see him standing in front of her. But at the very least, she hadn’t told him the real truth, those five little words that she had meant to say.

She don’t know where the laughter came from, but it did. Happily, Sarah giggled as his hand felt cool through the sleeve of her sweater. She laughed in relief of being alive and in relief that some secrets were still kept. There wouldn’t be a next time, she knew that now. She could never work up this courage again.

“Come on, quickly then.”

As he turned the corner, Sarah laughed once more. It was a love she’d keep to herself, better than to face a moment much like this. Maybe someday, but certainly not anytime soon. This whole idea had been flipping ridiculous to begin with. He couldn’t ever understand, could he?

And despite everything, I love him.
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
Do or do not. There is no try. – Yoda

“Doctor, I don’t see at all why we can’t go see the next film at all. We are in a time machine, aren’t we?” Sarah Jane sighed, tilting her head to give her best friend a pleading look. “It’s about time we actually go to a future where we don’t have to spend hours running for our lives, isn’t it?”

The Doctor blinked, confused. “Isn’t that what we spent the extra hours here for already, Sarah? So that you could have your ‘mundane and human enjoyment,’ as I believed you phrased it, in taking me to the pictures?”

“But we only did that after being chased all around York by misplaced Time Vikings,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant posture. She leaned back against one of the walls in the control room, staring at him with annoyance in her eyes. “Honestly, Doctor! I’ve already seen two of the films now. Can’t I see the final one?”

“In about two years time-”

“From now!”

“So?” Despite the indignant tone in his voice, the Doctor still looked somewhat guilty. He dipped his hat downward slightly, digging in to his pocket to pull out his yo-yo. Once obtained, he began to move it up and down, taking every opportunity to avoid Sarah Jane’s burning glare.

As the yo-yo completed its seventh oscillation, he at last looked up with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. He cleared his throat, straightened up, and almost smiled at a still pouting Sarah. When he spoke again, it was in a very implausible American accent: “‘This one a long time have I watched. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things.’”

It took Sarah a few seconds to realize that he was mocking her. Her draw dropped in infuriated astonishment as she muttered a small and angry “oh” of surprise. One foot stamped hard on the ground of the TARDIS. Her eyes widened, even more so when the Doctor gave her one of his annoying toothy grins. Oh, the arrogant…arrogant Martian!

Well, she decided seconds later, if that was the way he was going to play it then two can play at this game. Not quite possessing a Timelord’s memory, it took Sarah seconds more to recall a quote she remembered rather preferring as they watched the film.

“Do or do not, Doctor,” she retorted before sticking her tongue out at him. “There is no try. And I am going to go see this third movie, so there’s no use trying to get out of it. There is another? Han in carbonite? You really can’t expect me to wait all those years, can you?”

He stood there in silence for a few moments, looking rather Yoda like in his contemplation (in Sarah’s still irritated opinion). Finally, the Doctor shrugged and stuffed the yo-yo back in to his coat pocket. “I suppose that participating in the human ritual of movie going once more won’t be that trying of an experience. I was rather partial to the film myself, actually. Especially with the idea of the Force. Imagine, a whole energy field binding the galaxy. I myself know it to be quite a preposterous idea, but you humans-”

“Doctor,” she cut in, warningly. “The next film, if you please.”

“Ah, but Sarah-”

“Don’t you but Sarah me,” she began, only to be silenced by a finger placed on her lips. She looked up at his smiling face, suddenly highly confused. The confusion lingered as the TARDIS doors began to open and Sarah Jane peered out on to the busy sidewalk of the Eastend of London.

“We’re already here.”
his_sarah_jane: (his girl friday)
Write two letters: One to someone you hurt and the other to someone who hurt you.

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

December 26, 1984


Harry,

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

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

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

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

Love,
Sarah


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

December 26, 1984


Doctor,

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

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

--Sarah

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Sarah Jane Smith

April 2011

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