==== ==== Sarah-Jane: The Doctor Doesn't Dance ==== ====
SUMMARY: { Sarah tries to persuade the Doctor to dance with her… [Sarah, Fourth Doctor]}
There was nothing quite like a celebration after a day saved successfully. Or a world, as it were, in the case of Sarah Jane and the Doctor. You would hardly guess it by the architecture of the building they were in or by the faces of the people surrounding them, but this time they had found their way to the late 22nd century on Earth. Though it wasn't all that different from the 20th, or at least the ballroom wasn't. There were just a few more cultures around, and the fashion was, obviously, rather fancy compared to the well-known Seventies. Sarah enjoyed it nonetheless. Just for the occasion of the festivities, she had borrowed herself a contemporary dress. Immensely pretty, that one, in shimmering red and white colours, surprisingly comfortable, as well and just about the right width and length to move around easily.
As the Doctor and she entered, a very lively kind of music was playing and various couples had already moved onto the dance floor.
"Ooh! That looks like fun!", exclaimed Sarah right after the second good look. It most certainly wasn't a waltz, but a style of dance way beyond her sense of modern. Not too modern for Sarah not to learn it within a few minutes, though, she figured. Now all that she needed was a dance partner. A few glances were directed at her, she knew, because their latest adventure had made her and the Doctor a bit of a local celebrity, but there really was just one person she wanted at her side. She raised her head to look at the man next to her. "Will you dance with me, Doctor?"
He chuckled, amused that she even considered he could be up for it.
"Oh no, I'm not in the mood for dancing.", he said, shaking his head.
"Oh, when are you ever!?", complained Sarah. She had almost expected the answer, if not feared it.
But as though he relished in her annoyance, he just kept grinning into her face.
"I just don't dance, that's all.", the Doctor attempted to explain. "Can you imagine the damage these long limbs could do if they moved any faster? No, I'm afraid dancing isn't for me."
"If Harry would be here, I bet he would dance with me!", argued Sarah.
"If Harry would be here, I would gladly ask him to dance with you.", replied the Doctor. His answer was almost too simple. But just for her, he suggested an alternative. "Now, don't let your fun be spoiled by me, Sarah. Look, there are plenty of other people willing to be your partner!" He nodded towards the people – young men mostly – looking her way. There was really no point in arguing with him.
Oh, why did he always have to be like that? At times like these, Sarah felt as though he didn't understand how much joy it was to do things together. Saving the world was often fun enough, but it was not actually meant to be fun.
"All right. But don't come to me after you've changed your mind.", she gave in reluctantly.
"I very much doubt that I will.", responded the Doctor and walked away to look for company elsewhere.
With little other option left to her – downright sullen, you might say – Sarah scanned the area for the next, somewhat pretty guy willing to join her on the dance floor. It didn't take long for her to find someone who was also just waiting for a partner to come along. It was eventually a blonde, glasses wearing man in a pin striped suit, barely out of school by the looks of him, whom she took with her to the dance floor.
And she tried to dance. Honestly, she tried her very best to enjoy it, but there was only so much she could do. But something about it, whether it was the rhythm of the music or the skill she was lacking, Sarah just couldn't make the dance work. Worse was only that her partner failed to cope with her futile attempts, and instead of avoiding her misplaced steps, he kept stepping on her toes by accident. More than once Sarah had to bite her tongue in order to not shout at him for hurting her feet, but she knew it wasn't really his fault if she couldn't keep up.
But then he hit her toes for the last time! The pain caused her to stumble back, and, dangerous as her high-heels already were, she broke off a heel and twisted her ankle. As Sarah's leg gave away and she fell to the floor, the pain of her toes was quickly replaced by the much worse stinging from her foot upwards into her leg. Whereas she had been able to remain remotely polite so far, her entire politeness was suddenly forgotten. "Ow! Watch it!", she barked at her partner, who was apologizing and apologizing again. He didn't even have the backbone to remind her it wasn't his fault! Sarah was so upset, and equally disappointed, that she smacked away the hand who meant to help her back to her feet. "Shoo off! I've had enough!", snapped Sarah while she scrambled back to her feet, missing heel, hurting ankle and all. It had been her decision to dance, and then she could very well deal with the consequences of her decisions! No help needed!
By the time she staggered over to the tables nearby, she was utterly frustrated.
Meanwhile, the Doctor was having a jolly nice chat with a couple of historic figures from the future. At least that was who Sarah thought they were as she approached them, looking about as beaten as she felt. She stopped next to her friend without announcing herself.
"Ah ha ha! I always told him not to fly too close to that moon!", the Doctor told one of his new acquaintances as he laughed with them. It took a couple of seconds before he noticed the presence of his companion. "...Sarah?", he wondered about her reappearance.
"Hmpf." The young woman pulled the next empty chair close and sat down without an explanation, and without the need to introduce herself to the strangers. Sighing, she cast a glance over to her friend.
"What's the matter? You're done already? Did someone step on your toes?", asked the Doctor, almost worriedly.
"Yes indeed, and I've twisted my ankle, too.", she answered, but couldn't let him have the fun of being right about the dangers of dancing, and whatever else he imagined now. Honestly, if still somehow possible, she would have wanted him to be jealous for not having joined her. "But mind you, I've had my fun, thank you very much!"
The Doctor chuckled, mocking her sullen mood. Yet he was caring enough to welcome her to his little discussion group. "Would you like a drink?", he asked, then ordered albeit her nod must have been barely visible. "One tonic for my dear friend, please!"
The evening passed slowly for Sarah, who, thanks to her mood, could hardly find any pleasure in the Doctor's scientific and historically important talk with the two men, whom he considered the 'Leonardo Da Vincis of the 22ndcentury'. For the most part she just sat there quietly, listened and felt otherwise pretty much out of place. So naturally, the time dragged on and on, and knowing the Time Lord rather well, he wasn't one to get tired just because it was getting late… Unlike his company, though. Lucky for her!
By the time his new friends decided to leave, and, in turn, so would the Doctor and Sarah, the pain in Sarah's ankle had grown worse. She would have expected it to hurt only if she tried to balance on the foot, but now she could also feel it while she was just sitting there. And as she attempted to get to her feet to walk together with the Doctor back to his space craft, the stinging was suddenly so bad she couldn't even stand on the leg! Despite her best efforts, her foot just seemed to give away. It was more easy if she balanced on the other leg, but like this, she wouldn't make it to the time machine. Thankfully, the Doctor watched her struggle and was quick to offer his support. With his arm around her waist and hers around his shoulder, they managed to walk back to the big building's grand entrance – and it was, literally, painfully slow.
Could it get any worse? She shouldn't have wondered. "Oh, just my luck, is it…?"
It was pitch-dark outside, cold, and raining.
As if her mood wasn't worse enough… Sarah just wanted to give up completely.
When she and the Doctor stood at the top step of the entrance stairs looking at this unpleasant weather, she lowered herself by his arm onto the stone ground. "I think I'd rather stay here and wait for a better day...", she sighed.
"Are you sure about that? It's still 7 more hours and 32 minutes until sunrise, approximately...", argued the Doctor, and, judging by the tone of his voice, he thought that Sarah meant it seriously.
"Yes, I'm sure..." Sarah played along, hoping that maybe, he would finally get it if she pushed the joke further. But then another thought crossed her mind and she looked up to him. She had to raise her head even higher than usual in the attempt to meet his gaze all the way from the ground. "Unless, you could bring the TARDIS here...?", suggested Sarah.
"I'm afraid I couldn't.", he answered with a sorry look. "It's horrendously difficult to manoeuvre her in a distance of less than three parsecs."
Oh what good was that! She didn't even know how far 'a parsec' was! With another sigh, she leaned onto her elbows, head in her hands, as the Doctor sat down on the cold stone steps next to her. He eyed her with light worry. "Still, we should get you to the TARDIS as soon as possible. Your ankle could be inflamed.", he mused, before looking back up at the blackened night sky. "But in your state, walking there will take forever..."
She wasn't looking forward to that… But Sarah knew she had to get there, one way or another. Her ankle was burning quite badly now and rubbing the sore foot didn't help, either. "Are there any more good news?", she asked. Purely ironically, of course.
The Doctor smiled at her widely, as optimistically as only he could be when she was feeling so down.
"Yes, there are.", he said, then reached into his coat pocket. "Here, take this." Before she knew it, he had pressed into her hands his umbrella.
It was the shabbiest, foldable black umbrella you could ever imagine. Torn and bent in all places. How this thing was capable of keeping anyone dry was a miracle. Besides, as long as Sarah and the Doctor remained under the building's roof, they were safe from the rain, anyway. "What would I want with that?", she asked him.
"You can keep us dry while I carry you back to the TARDIS.", offered the Doctor and knelt next to her with slightly opened arms, just in case she accepted the offer.
Sarah didn't even reply. She just smiled gratefully and nodded, then reached for his shoulder to pull herself closer while he picked her up with such ease as though she was a doll and not a living being. Half an hour earlier she would have rudely refused, but now, not only was it necessary, but with his crazy smile and innocent attitude, he had charmed his way past her frustration. In the end, the care for each other would always bring them back together. With one of her hands, she was holding herself steady by his neck, and with the other she kept the broken umbrella over their heads.
As he marched out into the dark streets, somehow not a single drop of water reached their faces.
It was a miracle.