From the Journal of 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.

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 twood_hub]