Another teeny bit of nothing that was sparked by a prompt. Looking back, it's quite out of character, but whatever. Enjoy!

I had settled down, finally. Honestly, I had.

For years I planned out my own trips, in an attempt to recreate those times - I'd go to Egypt, see the pyramids; go to the Arctic, do something to stop the ice caps melting; Japan, Australia, Italy, Russia… a million journeys I'd never make.

I had a bulging file, stuffed with pictures, articles, snippets of text, practically every country in the world mentioned. It went with me everywhere – I don't know what I'd would've done if I lost that thing. It was my reminder of how wonderful things had been, my reassurance I hadn't dreamt the whole thing up.

Then, when K9 failed, it hit me. Sarah Jane Smith, I said to myself, this is never going to happen.

I could never recreate those times, not really. The times we had, you and I, were irreplaceable.

So I packed up, moved to London. Something exciting was always happening in London. K9 and my journal came with me, and years passed with me distracting myself. I found Aliens, if I was lucky, but usually just your average twisted criminal.

Of course, that's all they were in the end. Distractions.

You came back, you had to. Just when I was accepting everything, that I had to move on, you hunted me down, pulled me back into your world, instead of down on earth where I needed to be. We fought the Krillitane, forced them out, and then went our separate ways all over again.

It wasn't your fault, I know that, but I still blame you. Of course I blame you. There's no one else who I can force the responsibility on.

The worst part of it all? I know you'll come back again, like a predator stalking its prey. It'll be so much more degrading, though, because your face will have changed, and you'll be even more smug. Doctor, I love you completely, but you are the most infuriating being in this universe.

Maybe I'll change, this time, instead of you. I've already gone from pining to accepting; maybe I can go from accepting to fighting… fighting for your return, for my revenge, fighting for something. Anything.

I can learn to live with your absence.

I can never live with you hunting me down.

I am not your prey, Doctor.