From the Journal of Sarah Jane

Here are the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions of a very personal nature.
3. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.

(If you want questions for a specific verse, please specify)

From clever_wanderer [RS Verse]:

1. Milk or cream? I know there's milk in the kitchen, someone might have to buy cream...
Depends on my mood. But perhaps I ought to go with cream to simplify the grocery list? Yes, Doctor, a grocery list. I know it goes against everything you believe in, but while we're stranded, we'll have to make do.

2. Would you be willing to buy cream?
Is the big bad Doctor afraid of a shop?

3. Do you like bananas?
Yes. Banana and toast for breakfast, every morning.

4. Are you still having trouble with your laptop?
I doubt I'll ever stop.

5. What is your favorite...er, television show! Let's go with that. What's your favorite television show?
I take it the news doesn't count. Fine then. I've always been rather fond of Superman.

It's your birthday! If anything were possible, what would be your perfect way to celebrate?

The universes were ending and at the foot of a house which would someday belong to her, Sarah Jane sat watching the hustle and bustle of all the numerous TARDISes. At some point, she had lost count as to how many there were. The number kept changing every day, with more popping up. Not less, though, only ever more.

With most of space (and presumably time) gone, there was nowhere for any of them to travel. They were stuck. All of them were stuck.

And she still didn’t know half of them, Doctors and companions alike. Sometimes Sarah Jane wondered if she wanted to.

Either way, today had been much like every other. She had woken up in his TARDIS. Some days they would share breakfast together. Today was breakfast alone: jam on toast and a banana. Then a run about the neighborhood. Then time in the library, using the laptop and the Doctor’s extensive wealth of knowledge to do her share in researching a solution.

A normal day, just like every other. She hadn’t even been aware of the date until later that night when she glanced at the calendar in her room.

May 28th. Sarah Jane was, by all intents and purposes, another year older.

She hated it.

Today had been like any other day up until that point. In staring at the calendar, she felt a weight on her shoulders. What right did she have to think of something so absolutely ordinary and… and human… when the whole of the universe was at stake?

She had wandered outside. Staring at the house hadn’t helped (how many more years till that?). Watching some of the Doctors served only to remind her how the day could have been.

If he had still been here, even with the universes ending, she knew everything would be all right. He would have taken her to dinner. He would have surprised her with some small, quaint, yet utterly charming gift. Maybe she’d teach him a new trick or two with that scarf.

Despite it all, though, she would have had his smiling face watching her every moment.

It had been quite some while since she had last thought of him.

It had been quite some while since Sarah Jane had actually wanted to celebrate her birthday.

She sighed, blinking back tears as she stared up into the darkness above. There wasn’t much left to the night sky now. It was as lonely as she was. In some selfish way, that thought comforted her. Sarah bit on her lip, watching the few lone stars try to shine, enveloped in a never-ending struggle against the darkness.

Stars (for the most part) were not sentient. Yet, in her well of self pity, she wondered if one of them up there wished for someone to share their day with.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

A coin clattered on a step next to her, startling her more from her reverie than the voice did. It was indeed a penny, but not like any penny Sarah had ever seen exchanged on Earth. The coin glittered in the porch light. The symbols were angular and foreign. The TARDIS could translate them if she wanted her too. A strange face reflected back to her. Even the metal felt weird.

“Duchamp 331 standard.” The Doctor, her new Doctor, sat down next to her. He pulled his knees to his chest and flashed Sarah a small smile. “Dime a dozen, these pennies. All of ‘em absolutely worthless.”

Sarah Jane nodded, turning the penny over. A souvenir from a planet she might never see. It’s probably gone now and even if it comes back, presuming they all survive, he may not want to take her with him. A lovely birthday thought for a lovely birthday. She sighed.

“I won’t even ask how many you have tucked away in your pockets then.”

At least the quips still came easily enough today.

She tried a smile, a half hearted smile that really had no effort to it. Sarah wanted to pretend that everything was alright. Today really was just like any other day. And she was only tired, not upset. She knew though, without a doubt, that her smile was one the Doctor saw right through. Best friends knew how to do that sort of thing, after all.

He smiled back softly as he wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders, pulling her to rest against his chest. Sarah closed her eyes. How long would this moment last? She felt safe in his arms, even being that independent woman who refused to make him coffee all those years ago. She didn’t want to move.

The Doctor did, though. It was the slightest of movements, a simple shift of Sarah to his right so that he could reach into a jacket pocket and pull out a wrapped box that in no way seemed capable of fitting in the pocket he had kept it in. Still, the movement had startled Sarah Jane. Her heart skipped a beat and fear washed through her. Was he leaving?

No.

He ran a hand through his hair as he handed her the gift. She sat up straighter to look at him. The Doctor shrugged, reminding Sarah very much of that awkward lunch they had a while back. “I’ve never forgotten, Sarah Jane.”

She opened the box, eyes widening at the blue leather bound journal within. Sarah touched the edge carefully, tracing the indentations before looking upward. It reminded her of something else, something currently quite easily found on Bannerman Road. Wherever he had found it, it wasn’t on Earth. The leather was too fine and not quite proper in texture. The paper was too perfect.

Sarah Jane blinked and looked at him.

He smiled one of those knowing, arrogant smiles she couldn’t stand. It comforted her just the same. The Doctor reached over her to turn open the cover and tapped a finger on the page. Cursive letters slowly appeared.

“The words’ll only ever be visible when you want it to be,” he explained, interrupting Sarah before she had a chance to read the caption. “I found it while I was rummaging through the wardrobe. Blimey, you should see the stuff back there. Forgot I even had this. Think psychic paper but smarter. It’s a completely fail safe journal. Absolutely brilliant stuff, especially for a journalist.”

There was another quick smile followed by an awkward kiss on her forehead before he stood again. The touch of his lips against her skin lingered. Sarah looked up for a moment before her eyes fell downward, seizing the lieu in conversation as a chance to skim the letter.

We’ll laugh about this someday, you and I. Big, ole laugh right there in that swanky little joint on Orion’s Belt. Never did get you there, did I? Consider this—

--been a long time, I know. Haven’t even gotten a chance to tell you the half of it yet. Like that time on—

--I won’t ever forget, Sarah. I can’t ever forget. So every year I’ll—

--Don’t you ever forget me, Sarah Jane Sm—

--Love—

“Doctor!” Sarah stood quickly, nearly dropping the box. Her hands clenched tightly around the now-closed journal. In the time she had spent searching through the words, he had already turned to head back to the TARDIS. “Doctor!”

He stopped and turned around, a hesitant look on his face. The oncoming storm. Her best friend. Tears in her eyes ignored, Sarah beamed at him. “No need to wait till all of this is over to celebrate, is there? I happen to know this great little restaurant a few blocks away. Oddly enough, it’s called The Restaurant…”

[ooc: based on events in relative_space. clever_wanderer borrowed with mun permission.]

Avoiding giving me the cupcake in person so neither of us break down into tears, Doctor?

Either way - oh, it's terrific. I do love chocolate.

And you. You're the best sort of friend a girl could ask for. Thank you for remembering.

Love,
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.

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 twood_hub]

If your life was a story how would you write the final chapter?

Epilogue: Twenty-Nine Days Later

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

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

He despised every moment of it.

“She thought of you, you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The white rose he had been holding finally dropped on top of the mound, resting gently against the marble.

Innocence versus Lack of Guilt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you waiting for?

The first time in which he offers you a trip in the TARDIS, you try your hardest not to accept. You’re done with this all now, all the aliens and monsters and dinosaurs. You’re done watching him almost die and you want nothing more but to go home, go to sleep, and then wake up the next morning to go to work.

But he keeps talking…talking about a place called Florana whose name alone sounds simply beautiful. He’s talking about a beautiful beach, and gently flowing waters, and the next thing you know, you’ve gone home not to sleep, but to pack a bag because you’re leaving shortly – in about an hour or so. He’s won, but, well, in your defence, it has been a long time since you had a chance to put on your favourite blue flowered bikini.

The next time you get this offer, it’s just about a year later and so much has changed. More to the fact, he’s changed and you’re not quite sure your relationship is ever going to be the same again. It’s not just the different face, but the new personality quirks you’ve been noticing. He probably doesn’t even want you tagging around anymore. So, you’ve come to tell him that you’re leaving this time. There won’t be any more trips in the TARDIS for you.

But once again, he has that way of his. He comes in and you talk about that robot, and then he decides you need a change. But it’s him…he’s the one that wants a change and not just in wardrobe, and when it comes down to it, he’s acting simply childish again. When he asks you if you’re coming, holding out that bag of jelly babies, you take one and eat it no matter how much you can’t stand the candy. And then you smile, and he smiles back, just like always.






There’s a third time to all of this too. This third offer doesn’t happen until some thirty odd years later, after you had nearly given up on waiting. But oh, he was back and all of a sudden, your life felt complete again. You were older, he had regenerated many a time, and in the process and found himself a new companion. But the danger was still there, the thrill was still there.

And oh, how he’s remodelled more than just his face, much to your surprise. You still prefer it the way it was, but oh, it’s the inside of the TARDIS again. It’s everything you remembered in your dreams. Then she, the new companion, nods to him, and he smiles at you and tells you, once more, that you can come with them.

It’s everything you ever wanted to hear since he stranded you in Aberdeen all those years ago. Your life has come back. He’s come back. So you stand there, frozen, except for the smile that creeps your way onto your face as you think of what your life can be like again. How you can live again.

You agree for a final time.

The next thing you know, the TARDIS has taken off with three new additions – you and the boy, and that daft metal dog you love so much. Everything’s just as it should be, and the adventures you face are just as exciting as those you faced when you were young. You see clockwork robots and you and him nearly trap yourself in nineteenth century France. Then it’s off to alternate dimensions and black holes and a whole universe waiting to be explored just as you had left it.

The boy is the first to leave, back in that alternate dimension. The girl is the most upset over this, but you and he just shrug it off. You’re used to people coming and going in your life, and the most important person from it is back again. You and the girl become fast friends and in some ways, you suppose, it’s almost like having a sister. A much younger sister, but a sister nonetheless. Then, somehow, somewhere along the line, the two of you – you and him - pick up just where you left off all those years before and things just fall into place. This is the life you’ve always wanted, travelling with him and growing old with him, and never having to face a dull moment.

You’ve found your family again.

And then disaster strikes. Torchwood’s gone bloody mad and they let Cybermen into the world, and then there’s the Daleks and everything is horrible. Somehow…just somehow he manages to figure a way out of all this and somehow you survive. But she winds up elsewhere, your new best friend. Back in that alternate dimension you once visited, trapped forever with her family and the boy. So now it’s just you and him again, you and your lover, travelling around the cosmos until one day














one day, you just can’t do it anymore. He’s gone through yet another regeneration by now (older and more dignified, a better match up to your age) and despite the fact that you’re about to have another birthday, things are still as lively as ever between you and him. Until once again, everything goes horribly wrong and you just can’t escape.

And you die. In his arms, the way you always wanted to. And that’s it. There’s no more offers or waiting or anything. It’s all over. It’s all.





“I can’t do this anymore.”

It doesn’t sound like your voice, but it is. You stand there sighing, trying to avoid his gaze and trying to fight the tears from your eyes as you speak. His face falls, and even though you try so hard to remain confident, it’s hard. It’s the first time you’ve ever refused his offer. It tastes strange, the words feel strange, but you need to. You need to finish this once and for all. There aren’t any more ocean planets or jelly babies. Too much has changed.

You realise with a shock that you’ve changed. So you make up your mind. No more Sarah, the Doctor’s companion. From now on, it’ll only be Sarah Jane, investigative journalist. And you tell him that, no matter how much it hurts:

“Besides, I’ve got a much bigger adventure ahead. It’s time I stop waiting for you and found a life of my own.”