From the Journal of Sarah Jane

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

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.]

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

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.

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.

cocky_cockney: Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus. :D?

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.

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.

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

gethin_jones: An extra helmet for whenever he’s not alone on his bike.

hapan_heiress: A shopping spree at Hamley’s.

i_heart_winona: A weapon good enough to replace Wynonna.

izzie_mcphee: Most definitely a good pair of running shoes.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

not_tindog: A K-9 unit of your very own. Someone like you ought to have one.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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?

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.

toshtosh: One of the Doctor’s old sonic screwdrivers.

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.

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

works_in_space: Most certainly another trip to James’ London.

[ooc: based roughly on this.]

The Morning After

The morning after was a perilous thing; Sarah Jane always knew that. But morning afters happened whether you were ready for it or not. She knew that one as well. The dawning light peaking through window shades gave you the brief moments in time to recall the previous day. They gave you the one last attempt to hide under the covers until you got your story (reasoning) correct. But then, no matter what happened next, you had to face it. Or him. Or whatever it was that had happened before you fell asleep.

Honestly, it wasn’t as big a deal as people made it out to be. She never understood why the media had always focused on the ‘morning after’ as a chunk of a plot. She never understood why people either always worshiped the ‘morning after’ or regretted it in Hollywood – why couldn’t they just accept it?

This was why, Sarah had decided as the first slivers of light appeared through the crack of the curtain, she refused to make such a big deal over this particular morning after.

His body felt warm against hers and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart – thump thump thump - beneath the pillow of her hair and his chest. One heart, she reminded herself even though she had never really doubted that he was anything but human as he claimed. No, that was one mystery easy enough to solve.

She yawned and snuggled closer against him when one of his arms hugged her bare back. So he was awake as well. Sarah Jane had hoped for a couple of more minutes enjoying the contact without anyone to make a big deal about anything; god knew how long it’s been since she last fell asleep in someone else’s bed. Or hotel room, she supposed. After all, like he said: she couldn’t exactly take him back to the TARDIS, and he was too mysterious to actually let her see where he lived.

Some points, in the short time she had known him, she doubted he even lived in one particular place.

But that didn’t matter, or at least she didn’t believe it did. Because right now, Sarah was finding it increasingly harder to concentrate on her thoughts – thoughts that distinctly did not involve making a big deal over a ‘morning after,’ of course. His arm had grown restless and began to trace small circles on her back. It tickled (she always was ticklish) and she squirmed, and in return he kissed her ear. The kisses grew hungry as he attacked her neck, and she let out a little sigh of content.

Last night didn’t matter. The decisions involved were no longer important. She despised morning afters just for that reason: all the thinking that was often involved. It was clear that she wasn’t thinking last night, allowing his charm to envelope her into security and sex. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t have fallen for it all that easily. Normally.

But maybe it was the fact he was a former companion (somehow, in some future timeline) of the Doctor, or maybe it was just that he wasn’t a bad guy, or maybe it was the mystery that surrounded him. That was thinking though – that was morning after stuff – and that was everything Sarah Jane Smith refused to think about right now. There were lips nuzzling her collar bone and hands exploring her back and that, she knew, was what a morning after should be.

None of that barmy, doubtful, silly talk about what was to happen next, or why they did what they did the night before. It should be simple: just content in the arms of a man who lived a life as strange as her own.

Sarah Jane wasn't nervous, not really. So the Doctor gave her a suspicious look when she asked if they could visit the near future, talking on and on about how she wanted to see England shortly after the millennium passed. She got another funny look when she mentioned Cardiff, but he reluctantly agreed.

And so here she was, waiting for Jack within distance of the city's center at Bute Park. The Doctor had actually done well this time, getting (as far as Sarah knew) the year (and month, if this chill meant anything) spot on. She shivered, hugging the blue jacket she wore as she waited on the park bench.

Hopefully, Jack would show up soon enough -- and the Doctor would remain none the wiser.