his_sarah_jane: (grin)
Happy birthdays, Ianto and Gethin.

Please, don't do anything drastic to celebrate. And I mean that last part specifically for you, Gethin.


Enjoy, although I'm certain you will.
his_sarah_jane: (his girl friday)
Jack,

Now that things have calmed down a bit at the Hub, would you mind if I request time off for two weekends from now?

I kind of miss him. A lot more than I thought.

Thank you.
Sarah Jane
his_sarah_jane: (thoughtful)

ColorQuiz.com I took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!

"Needs to feel identified with someone or something..."


Click here to read the rest of the results.


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: (thoughtful)
I'm not quite sure I agree with the results, to be honest.

My personality type: the social realist. Take the free iPersonic personality test!
his_sarah_jane: (amused)
A few moments respise won't hurt my research. So, a quiz.

62 questions and answers )
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: (sarah and ten)
3 am

Three a.m. meant a lot of things at Torchwood House. Three a.m. meant ghostly hauntings. Three a.m. meant late night feelings. Three a.m. meant that now was just a good a time as any for a shag. Three a.m. meant conference calls to California’s UNIT base, or the burgeoning Torchwood base in Australia. Three a.m. meant a lot of things.

And now, apparently, it also meant visits from the Doctor.

“So which one’s this then?” he asked as he joyfully strolled across the nursery towards Sarah Jane and the rocking chair. “Not a twin, cause last time I checked, they’d be a little too big. Owen? Alice?”

She shook her head as she looked from him to the TARDIS, now standing in a corner of the room. Her children slept through the strangest things, she knew. Alice was still asleep. And her two week old newborn, Mirren, was far too interested in her early morning feeding. At age thirty-eight, she still looked youthful enough to pass for younger. Keeping up with her alien lover and five children certainly helped with that, not to mention her freelance journalism career and her work with Torchwood. But the Doctor hadn’t aged a day since the last time they had met.

Since she had met the Doctor, there had never been a dull moment in Sarah’s life. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mirren,” Sarah answered softly. Unlike her brothers and sisters, this child had blonde curls like her father. Right now, though, she was nursing away as hungry as any other of the Smith-Harrow children had been. “Mirrenanhar'roh, after her grandmother.”

The Doctor tilted his head, smiling softly. She couldn’t tell what was going on in his mind right now. His brown eyes were distant, probably filled with forgotten memories and some sort of longing she didn’t understand. For a brief moment, Sarah thought he may have been angry with her. She knew he hadn’t been all that happy when she told him that she was staying in Cardiff and not going back to 1980. By then, she had been stranded for two years. Friendships and relationships had been formed that she couldn’t stand to part with.

But since that day, he had long forgiven her. There had been visits – more visits, she realized, than she had had with her friends in Cardiff.

“And where’s Rose?” The silence needed to be broken before it drove her mad. “Didn’t lock her in the TARDIS, did you?”

“Nah,” the Doctor replied, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had been in. “Left her in Cardiff. Demanded a visit with Jack and Bron and who was I to deny her?

“She doesn’t look like you.”

Sarah Jane snorted. Mirren took that opportunity to yawn and move her head away from her mummy’s breast. The momentary exposure caused both friends to flush in embarrassment. The Doctor turned around before Sarah even had to order him to do so. She pulled her nightgown back up and stood, bouncing her daughter in her arms.

“She is mine, surprisingly enough,” Sarah whispered. She adjusted Mirren in her arms so the Doctor could better see her. “Owen’s just about had it playing midwife, as he calls it. And I’m getting old. It’s three a.m. and I’m absolutely exhausted. Didn’t used to be like that, you know.”

He held out a tentative and curious finger in front of the baby’s face, a small frown appearing when Mirren just blinked sleepily at him. Then, his face brightened and he shook his head quickly. “Oi, don’t say that, Sarah Jane. Look at you, living a life you’d never dream of. Mother of five extraordinary children, still writing, workin’ with Torchwood? Any other woman’d look near fifty now. ‘stead you don’t look a day over thirty”

“Doctor,” she interrupted with laughter. “I don’t look that young.”

“Coulda fooled me.” It was said with full sincerity. He glanced over at the clock on the wall and grinned. “How ‘bout it then? You put this little one to bed, write a note to that alien prince of yours, and the two of us go share a cuppa in nineteenth century Paris. I promise to have you home before dawn, Sarah Jane Smith.”

It sounded so lovely. Sarah Jane hadn’t been inside the TARDIS in so long, let alone on a trip through time. She smiled at the prospect. Paris, in the nineteenth century – they had never gone there before, had they?

She was ready to nod. Ready to put Mirren in bed and write that note. Running away with the Doctor, if just for a few hours, oh, the prospect was lovely. As she took a couple of steps towards the cot, the Lady passed through the room and smiled down at sleeping Alice. Suddenly, Sarah remembered where she was. It was 3 a.m., she was in her nightgown that was still damp from breast feeding her newborn. She was home, and had a sleeping lover in the next room waiting for her to come back to bed. Thirty-eight and a mum five times over. She wasn’t that young girl that could go running off with him anymore.

So she shook her head. It broke her heart to say no. In the shadowy room, she could watch his face go from brilliantly happy to lonely and morose within seconds. She was Wendy, all grown up, and he was Peter, still always a boy at heart.

“I can’t, Doctor.”

And five seconds later, that manic grin returned.

“Cuppa tea with the ghosts, then.”

“That,” Sarah answered slowly, “I can do.”

[ooc: based on possible future scenario in [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub]
his_sarah_jane: (sarah and ewan - aww)
My bags drop on the cold stone tiles of the House as the door closes behind her. The trip to Cardiff has been more than successful. In fact, it has surpassed anything my wildest dreams can come up with. Visiting old friends has been a breath of fresh air, as has returning to the place where, in effect, this all had started for me.

But Scotland is home now. Or, more to the point, Ewan and our family are my home. I love them all more than words could ever describe, and, as much as I still despises cliches, there really is nothing like being home. I take a deep breath of the musty air and smile to myself. My smile turns brighter when the Lady floats by. She's officially the first to welcome me back.

Placing a hand on my stomach, I nod in confirmation to her unasked question. Yes, I'm pregnant. Yes, there will be another child within the House in eight months. Yes, this time the pregnancy will last. The Lady has been my sole secret keeper - occasionally spying on me during those awful mid-mornings spent throwing up in the bathroom or when the fatigue got to be too much. I don't know how the ghost knew I was pregnant. It's just easier to accept.

The ghostly woman floats away, leaving me alone in the foyer. No one expects me to be home tonight. I wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow morning, but I couldn't wait. I have to surprise Ewan with the news. The twins ought to be asleep by now; it's 9 pm and those blessed little ones always managed to wear themselves out by half past six. I'll check in on them after, preferably with their father in tow.

Beaming, I abandon my bag and the hockey sticks at the door and take off in the direction of the Smith-Harrow apartment. I have my leman to surprise, after all. And I can't wait to see the look on his face when I tell him the news.
his_sarah_jane: (laugh)
Clearly Kat and I have toooooo much time on our hands. At the very least, we haven't tried to properly RP Bronwyn, Nessa, and Luke yet?

cut for f-page friendliness )
his_sarah_jane: (sarah and ewan - aww)
226 - Name three things that you're looking forward to in the near future and why.

Didn’t eight hours of torture count as more than enough? Sarah Jane certainly thought so. After the initial disappointment of watching failure after failure of egg to sperm matchups, after carrying twins for ten months, after all the physical and emotional turmoil that came with her decision to give Ewan children, it came down to this. It came down to the past eight hours of pain and fears and hopes like she had never felt before.

cut for not so graphic but still possibly uncomfortable for some people birth content )

[based on [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub and this thread.]
his_sarah_jane: (amused)
Apparently Gethin actually does agree with me about something:



He is, for all intents and purposes, quite better than a bus. So much so, that I decided this was a rather worthy topic to show off my progressing skills with this bloody device.

I am getting better, aren't I?



(Also: while that thing we found may look like a fox, it is, indeed no way a fox - except in Gethin's mind.)
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
87. Did you think I wouldn't notice?

“Oh, do you honestly think that I wouldn’t notice, Gethin Jones?” I stand there with my hands on my hips, eying the man in front of me. My eyes have narrowed and there’s a scowl on my face. I sigh, shake my head, and sigh again. “Really!”

“What?” He gives me a look. That exasperated, ‘what now?’ sort of look he tends to take on when we argue. The look that says it’s all my fault when, really, he’s just as much to blame. “What did I do now?”

“You know perfectly well what you did!” As I talk, I jab a finger in his chest, pushing him towards a wall. The two of us had been trapped in this small room for far too long now. It was starting to become claustrophobic. He was starting to become claustrophobic. And there’s fury in my eyes, frustration as I give him a good push. “The absolute last thing I need is a picture of you shagging Owen in my head!”

I’m going bloody mad. There’s no other way to describe it. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I knew we shouldn’t have touched that flipping device. The strange glowing round orb that had been nestled so perfectly above a mound of dirt at that crash site Gwen sent us to investigate. But quite apparently, Gethin was as bad as the no touching rule as I was.

We reached for it at the same time.

And ever since then, we’ve been stuck in this prison with Owen coming by every couple of hours to monitor us while Tosh and Hugh attempted to find a way to reverse the effects of the device sooner than later.

“All things hoping,” said Jack with a laugh, “and it’ll wear off in a matter of hours. Used to have one of these lying around myself. Greatest sex toy in the whole galaxy: telepathically connects you with your partner for a few hours to intensify the pleasure. Of course, if you’ve been hiding a couple of skeletons in your closet that come out during orgasm…”

He winked and shrugged and wandered off, not before confining the two of us to the Hub until the effects faded. That had been two hours ago. And now?

Now, I’m about absolutely ready to scream. I push him again and he just smirks. “Just admit it: you want me, doll. Can’t get enough of me.”

All of a sudden, I am – no, he is – thinking back to that fantasy he had been playing in his mind since Owen had left after the last checkup. Except now I’m in it, playing nurse to Owen’s doctor as Gethin more than willingly undergoes his ‘physical.’ I blink. And then I shove him hard against the wall.

“Oh, stop!”

He’s still smirking and grinning, like he’s won the lottery or some other daft contest. “I think I’ve figured it out now. I’m gentleman enough to include you in my thoughts, and you respond by shoving me against a wall. Jeez. You just like it rough, don’t you? So yeah, have your way with me. I’m through trying to argue with you, though.”

I stare at him and slowly begin to back away. Gethin takes the opportunity to slip away and spread out on a cot. I sigh, sitting at the edge of the same bed and pointedly looking anywhere but at him. So absolutely infuriating! And he bloody well knows it, for however long this connection persists. It’s not at all like what Ewan shared with me. That was magical. This is just… just impossible!

And more than anything, all this bloody psychic dealings make me miss Ewan even more. I sigh, leaning into my hands and trying not to cry. Today has been far too long and far too tiring. I want to sleep. But I’m afraid of the thoughts that might slip out--

“I’m not one for that long distance thing.” Gethin’s voice interrupts my ponderings. I turn, hesitant but curious, to find that he’s sat up in bed. His arms stretch lazily behind his head and he shrugs. The smirk is gone. He smile is gentler now, more like Ianto’s. “Never have been, love. But he strikes me as the sort of bloke who’s serious about giving it a go. Bet he’ll get a kick out of this whole ordeal when it’s over.”

The words surprise me. He surprises me. I’ve found Gethin has a habit of doing that. Just when I’m quite ready to make a firm judgment of the man, he does something that makes me reconsider everything. I shrug and give a slight smile.

“You know by now that there’s more to me,” he continues, moving an arm to scratch at his hair. “That I’m not a bad person and I just like to rile you up. So quit being all surprised and just, um. I guess, if you ever need a second opinion… or someone to make you forget, I’m getting to know you better right now than anyone else in the Hub. So yeah. I care, Sarah. Happy?”

Happy? The question rings through my head. I shrug slightly, not sure of the answer. I know he’s right about Ewan. And I know he’s right about himself. And, because of this daft, bloody mad alien device, he knows he’s right too. It’s confusing and complicated; makes my head spin and makes me just want to pick a fight with him even more.

His thoughts are whirling around in my head, mingling with mine. He’s thinking about Owen, thinking about Ianto and Bronwyn and even thinking about me. Worrying about me, he is, and what this connection might do to our burgeoning friendship. Wondering why we never seem to get along. It’s almost touching. It almost reminds me of Ewan. Until his mind shifts back to the Dr Harper fantasy, with Nurse Smith still a quite present part.

I shift uncomfortably, trying not to let it affect me. But it does. And he bloody well knows it. Git.

“Gethin?” I finally ask, breaking the rather loud silence. I shouldn’t be doing this. But his thoughts are driving me barmy. He turns to look in my direction and I seize that moment to pin him down on the cot. I look down at him and lick my lips, ignoring the way my hair curtains our faces. “You’re being far too fucking loud. Think you could shut up and kiss me?”

Jack’s right in the end, of course and the one thing Gethin and I can agree on is never to tell him that, that aggravations and frustrations and telepathic connections certainly do make the sex better.

One time isn’t an affair.

Owen won’t realise and Ewan won’t care.

One time doesn’t count.

And yet, he knew I’d notice.

[ooc: based on [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub]
his_sarah_jane: (excuse me?)
Mad

Chasing Weevils was quickly becoming Sarah Jane’s least favourite duty as a member of Torchwood Cardiff. It wasn’t the danger that bothered her, or the work out she usually inadvertently obtained in running through the city streets. It was the result of the chase that bothered her most: bringing yet another stray Weevil back to the Hub, to lock it up with the rest, confined and trapped for the rest of its lifespan. She knew it was better than alternative. But it didn’t stop the bother any less.

Two hours earlier, Toshiko had intercepted a series of communications between a pair of coppers. As it turned out, a woman had been mauled right outside of Duke Street Arcade. Witnesses, specifically a couple of American teenagers there on holiday, had described the assailant as “some sort of freak that escaped from the circus” headed off towards Bute Park.

By now, it was closer to night than dusk. Two hours of fruitless searching were beginning to wear on her. Every new joke cracked by Owen, every newbie related comment, was beginning to grate on her last nerve. The Weevil seemed to have very well vanished into the night. Walking about with a torch in one hand and Weevil spray in other (Sarah Jane absolutely refused to fire at it unless given no other choice), she was starting to feel rather ridiculous.

“Here, Weevil, Weevil, Weevil,” Owen cooed into the night, earning yet another eye roll from Sarah. It was no wonder they had been receiving stares lately. “That’s a good Weevil. Come play with me and the newbie, won’t you?”

Oh! For the last time!

“Owen Harper,” Sarah interrupted in a shrill and angry voice, stopping dead in her tracks and whirling around to face him. The torch in her hand shone light into his eyes. Owen scowled, but Sarah ignored it. “You’re not taking this seriously at all! This poor, frightened Weevil is out there, somewhere-“

“And now I know you’re bloody mad. Listen’ to me, sweetcheeks. I know this is only your fourth Weevil run, but these things ain’t anything to pity. They’d rather take a bite out of you than talk sense.”

In the pale moonlight, Sarah could see his eyes look her body up and down. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. He knew better than to call her anything but her proper name by now and within the last few minutes, not only had he called her ‘newbie,’ but ‘sweetcheeks’ as well! It was getting late. She was positively exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home to her flat and ring Ewan. Instead, she was stuck in Brote Park on the coldest night of the summer with someone who had once again become her least favourite individual in Torchwood.

“Actually,” he decided a moment later, smug smirk on his face. “I reckon they have the right idea.”

It took a moment for Sarah Jane to comprehend the words. Her mouth fell open and her brown eyes widened as he arms dropped back to her side. “I… oh, I can’t believe you! I’m not mad, you see. I’m absolutely furious with you!”

Owen held his hands out in defense, taking a step backwards. He sighed, shaking his head. “Jeez, lighten’ up, will you? Thought we’d gotten over this whole ‘massively hating’ thing.”

“We did,” she answered sternly. Despite her rather lame assurance that she didn’t despise him, her eyes were still narrowed and her posture still screamed anger. “But it certainly doesn’t change the fact that you’re still very much an insufferable arse!”

He winked, smug grin returning. “Admit it – you fancy that arse, don’t you? Now that the Professor’s gone, you can’t wait to see what I’m capable of. Admit it, Smith.”

“Oh! You-”

Once again, Sarah Jane found herself interrupted. This time, however, it wasn’t with words. Before she had a chance to react, Owen pummeled her to the ground. The two landed with a loud thud on the damp grass, her knee accidentally connecting with his hip and his elbow narrowly missing her shoulder. Her back instantly hurt and she groaned. Her eyes met his: he was above her, staring down at her with lips parted. Sarah’s own mouth opened. Before she had a chance to tell Owen off, though, she heard and felt the reason for the sudden tackle.

The attacking Weevil roared as it tripped over their bodies. It ungracefully crashed into a tree as it attempted to catch its balance. Stunned, Owen used the opportunity to reach for Sarah’s sidearm and fire a few rounds into the alien. It roared again.

“C’mon you ugly beast,” Owen muttered as he finally crawled off of Sarah, grabbing the anti-Weevil spray as he did. Bindings dangled in his other hand. “Janet’s been wanting company.”

Sarah Jane watched as Owen ambushed the alien, giving it a good blast of the spray before locking its wrists together. An ache echoed through her mid back as she tried to stand. She winced. And winced again when she realized how helpless she currently felt. Owen had stolen her weapon and was making pretty quick work off the Weevil. And here she was, the bloody newbie, suffering from a bruised back.

Less than five minutes later, the Weevil had been sufficiently bounded and sedated enough to tote back to the vehicle. Sarah called into the Hub, trying to keep the pain out of her voice when she told Toshiko that the situation had been handled. That done, she put up a weak smile. She didn’t want Owen to know he had accidentally injured her, more so for her sake than his.

He saw through her façade instantly. “Might want me to take a look at that when we get back to the Hub. Didn’t mean to, but I could’ve been the cause of a couple bruised ribs. The fall was-”

“Anything but graceful,” Sarah said softly, trying not to laugh. “It would have been far worse if your elbow had actually gotten in the way.”

Owen ran a hand through his hair, shrugging. “Yeah, well… ain’t mad, are you?”

Her smile broadened a little more and she moved closer, careful to circumvent the Weevil. She looked up at him curiously: his face was scratched and there was certainly some grass in his hair. Sarah Jane could only imagine the sort of state she must be in right about now. A breeze ruffled the leaves and Sarah shivered. Surprisingly, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

“No,” Sarah finally decided before standing on her toes to place a light kiss on the corner of his lips. “Not mad. Grateful.

[ooc: based upon [livejournal.com profile] twood_hub]
his_sarah_jane: (his girl friday)
I think this is how Owen said I ought to do it? Well, it's certainly worth a try, anyway, before I dash down to seek out Ewan. I want to save this.

It's a shame I can't save every memory in this manner.

in which we pretend the cut is not here and that this is indeed a public transcript of the IM chat )
his_sarah_jane: (by the tardis)
Travelling through space and time is quite the adventure. However, for the most part, it's the destination that matters more than the actual journey. I've travelled both conventionally in a proper space craft like those we have here on Earth and not so conventionally within the TARDIS. They make for quite the differing experience.

Travelling in the TARDIS depends very much on her mood. She's not alive, per say (although I'm certain the Doctor is convinced she is), but she certainly has personality. She's... well, I don't quite know how to describe the old girl. But when you're inside her, you're safe. There are never ending corridors to wander about and all these rooms to explore. The library is absolutely brilliant. The kitchen... well, the Doctor's taste in food leaves something to be desired. I adored my room aboard the TARDIS. It was home.

I believe that's a good enough explanation as any for travelling through the TARDIS. It's like being at home, with your best friend to keep you company, and winding up in a new location whenever you open the door to the outside world. Sometimes travel is instantaneous. Other times, we could be wandering for days. It all depends on urgency, I suppose, and just how fickle the TARDIS is being that day. There's no jetlag, there's no feel of movement. You're simply in one place one moment and another seconds later.

There also aren't any windows. But the Doctor has taken me to see nebulae and galaxies and all sorts of amazing sights within the galaxies. Space is increadible. There aren't any words to describe it.

As for the 'conventional' form of travel, I suppose that's more like flying in a plane. I haven't done it very often. In fact, the last time I did, the Doctor and I were trying to prevent the cybermen from crashing a ship in this asteroid made of gold. It's one of their weaknesses, you see. That? Well, that was certainly the whole darkness of space flying around you as the planet up ahead gets bigger and bigger and you nearly forget to breathe. Exhilarating and panic inducing all in one.

Then there are other forms of travel like transmat beams. That's very much like the "Beam me up, Scotty" bit of Star Trek. Absolutely instantaneous. You're in one place one moment and in another all together. Oh, there was also that time ring given to the Doctor by the Timelords when he had been sent back to prevent the creation of the Daleks. That was rather dizzying.

So I suppose, overall, it varies. It can be exciting and it can be boring and it's more than likely not anything you could initially imagine. But if I were given a chance to do it again, I most certainly would. I hope that answers your question, Gwen!
his_sarah_jane: (his girl friday)
Doctor,

I don't know if you can read this. It's daft, really, thinking that you can. But it's the only way I can think of to currently reach out to you. I'd like to imagine that you're currently in your TARDIS, on Earth or somewhere near with your current companion. Perhaps bored, looking through these electronic files and networks from UNIT and Torchwood that are supposed to be classified to all eyes to find some barmy adventure to go on. The TARDIS computer wouldn't ever fail you in that respect. So, you find this instead. I certainly can't send you a letter through the post. And, last time we met, those... email addresses, I believe they are, weren't in existence yet.

So this is it. At the very least, I can pretend that you'll be reading this. And you'll be realising that this wasn't South Croydon or even 1980 you left me in! Doctor, it was Cardiff and in the year 2008, too! You probably didn't even realise your own mistake, too preoccupied with those flipping Timelords. Are you still going to come back when through with whatever they want?

I want you to come back.

Anyway, I suppose I got lucky. A future companion of yours, a rather interesting bloke by the name of Jack, found me. He's a part of Cardiff's Torchwood - Torchwood Three - and, well, adopted me to the team. It's not journalism, but it is a job that'll keep me out of the spotlight. We came across evidence of my future self in 1998. I must find a way to get home somehow. And I know better than to interfere with the time-space continuum in hunting her -me- down.

Oh, you'll get a laugh out of this. My closest friend since arriving here? He's very much not from Earth and very much doesn't look his age at all. He's from a planet called... actually, I'm not too sure of the planet's name, but he says he's 'of the Rohskind'. Does that mean anything to you? You'd like him, I think. Quite a lot. He reminds me of you, a little, but in the end, no one can be you. There's only one Doctor out there and I'm proud to call him my best friend. Still, Ewan is... he's wonderful.

Everyone else in the team is rather nice too. It's so different from UNIT, much more informal and relaxed. And the technology... oh, the technology. Next time you bloody well go and decide to leave a companion in the future, make sure she understands how to work the technology! You know perfectly well that computers and I don't get along. I'm not Zoe, you daft git.

And here I go berating you again. Don't take it as anything bad, Doctor. I just... oh, I miss you. It's only been a couple of weeks and even if my life is still just as adventurous... it lacks you.

Please stay well. Please don't be too reckless. Please come back.

Yours,
Sarah Jane.
his_sarah_jane: (hmmph)
You! You tell me we ought to stop and then call me your sweetheart? I looked up that word all right - first thing I did this morning. Leman: it's Middle English - for lover or sweetheart.

How do you possibly expect us to stop this when you pull a bloody stunt like that? I have half a mind to corner you as soon as you arrive to the Hub this morning and give you a piece of my mind.

Leman, indeed!

But... I like it. I'm frightened as hell, but I don't think I want to stop. Not yet, at any rate.

Sarah.
his_sarah_jane: (life or death moment)
Jack asked me to talk about one of my favourite adventures for this thing. There’s a lot I can say about travelling with the Doctor – I have notebooks filled of journal entries from that time. I detailed everything, as much as possible. Travelling with the Doctor is something you never want to forget. Some adventures are wonderful and some are absolutely dreadful, you see. I’ve seen amazing things and I’ve also witnessed some horrible acts. I have memories I would rather forget; I’ve been tortured, nearly killed, and have killed people myself. I’m a good shot and when given the choice between me or the Doctor and them… that split second, it’s not difficult to make the decision.

But that’s aside the point, isn’t it? I’m running away with my thoughts. It’s habit for me. Still, a favourite adventure is a favourite adventure. I’ll always have a soft spot for our first accidental trip together. I’ll have a soft spot for every moment I spent with the Doctor, in either form. But I’ve told so many of you that story by now, I think it’s only fair to choose something else to talk about.

The Loch Ness monster, perhaps? She’s real, you know and I’ve seen her. In fact, I helped the Doctor and UNIT stop her from attacking the Prime Minister once. We – Harry Sullivan, the Doctor, and I – had been travelling about the galaxy, really in no hurry to return to Earth (although I suspect Harry was). But our travels were cut short by a help message from the Brigadier. We returned to Earth – to Scotland to be exact. Of course, we didn’t land anywhere near the base UNIT had set up. This is travelling with the Doctor, after all.

To make a long story short, these creatures called the Zygons had landed on Earth a long time ago after their ship had crashed. As their world was gone, they had hoped to make Earth their new home. It turns out that Nessie is actually an alien – the Zygon version of a cow, for lack of better description. And also easily controlled by the alien race to do their bidding.

Did I mention that they had a machine that allowed the Zygons to take on someone else’s form? It led to a horrible fight between me and Harry. Thankfully, the man I knocked off the barn loft was not Harry Sullivan at all, but one of those Zygons. I eventually did find the real Harry, through a hidden passage in a Duke’s library (another one of those individuals who were being ‘masked’ by the Zygons) and freed him. He was a good sport about the whole thing, if not rather confused as to what was going on.

Anyway, as I said, ultimately the Zygons tried using Nessie to attack Stanbridge House near the river Thames – a conference was being held there that the Prime Minister was attending. We stopped them, of course, and, well… that was the last of the Zygons.

Nessie lived, though. And proved that, sometimes, certain rumours do have truth to them.

There. That's the last of these blogging things. It's been fun.

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Sarah Jane Smith

April 2011

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