My first ever piece of fanfic. English isn't my first language so I apologize in advance for any possible grammatical errors I might have commited. Tips and criticism are always welcome.
Chapter One: While investigating the strange coincidences between five abducted children, Sarah is forced to return to Aberdeen and looks back on the last time she was there.
I have to give credit to the show 'Lost' for the story structure used in this fic - using seemingly meaningless places, objects, sounds or words as a catalyst for flashbacks.
Just Sarah in this chapter but Four WILL eventually show up.
Warning: M for future content. Also, lots of fluffiness and romance intermingled with actual plot.
Just a tryout. If people like it, I'll certainly continue.
London to Aberdeen, 2003.
Having witnessed firsthand how easy it was to convince the public to buy into whatever it was one might have wanted them to believe, Sarah Jane Smith had learned to be mindful of rumors.
With decades of investigative journalistic experience under her belt, taking everything that was heard through the grapevine with more than just the proverbial pinch of salt had become habitual. It was something she took pride in.
It wasn't an issue of not believing. She had seen the incredible. Had travelled there in a blue box. To her, the unthinkable was nothing less than stone cold fact.
Bittersweet memories which, if she was entirely honest, had dictated the course of her life for a very long time.
However… It had been over 25 years since she had witnessed anything even remotely extraterrestrial. When she was younger she had chased several stories like this one down dead end streets. Not so much out of ambition as out of an all consuming need to see him again.
To know that he remembered. That she had mattered. Just to hear that voice one more time. She had kept on hoping for years.
But time and time again, all she had seen were people trying to make a profit out of elaborate hoaxes or utilising the wrath of whatever god or alien it was that would mask their own insanity the best. She thought she was long done with all of it. She knew what was out there and it was enough.
And yet, despite having promised herself to steer clear years prior, here she was again. Ready to board a train and chase the smoke to decide for herself whether or not there was a fire.
She couldn't quite explain why but a feeling deep in her gut had made her latch on to this particular story and she was determined, beyond anything else, to find out the truth. On of it's biggest mysteries being why the world press hadn't jumped onto it like a pack of hungry hyenas. It was baffling to say the least.
Three days earlier, a short article on the internet had caught her immediate attention. Five different children from five different cities in the UK and Europe - all of whom had gone missing during the last few months - had miraculously shown up without so much as a bruise or headache. All on the same night.
A happy ending by all means, if it hadn't been for the horrifying coincidence that all five of them had gone blind during the days following their reappearance. That wasn't the only strange thing either.
All five children claimed they had gone to sleep the night before and had woken up in their own beds the next morning. The usual morning grumpiness. The usual reluctance to attend school. To them, one night had passed. For their families and the rest of the world months had gone by. Imagine the shock seeing your child sit down at the breakfast table as if nothing had happened.
With the scientific community baffled, mostly at their own inability to solve the matter, the whole debacle had been discarded as a tasteless prank by most outsiders, something she could certainly understand.
Still, she thought she would have a learned her lesson by now. Apparently not. No, this one was different. Five children. Five cities. Oslo, Rennes, Lisbon, Cork and Aberdeen. Same story. Even K9 had told her it was beyond mathematical coincidence. There was no proof all of this meant anything but if even the tin dog couldn't explain it away by mere rational, scientific means perhaps it was worth investigating.
Mind you, he had of course added an expected 'Not enough data available' , as if to somehow excuse his lack of satisfactory answers.
With her car in repair and her ticket in hand, she entered the train set for Aberdeen. Quietly strolling through a few compartments, she looked around, growing slightly nervous at the amount of people in there.
A slight smile crept on her face as she spotted a seat somewhere in the farthest corner. Empty.
Struggling to place her bag in the overhead rack, a confident voice behind her suddenly interrupted.
'Let me help you with that, miss.'
Slightly startled, she turned around to face two impeccably dressed men. Late twenties, early thirties. Businessmen, no doubt. she allowed the man that spoke to her to help her while his friend smiled at her with calculated charm. A gleam in his eye that chilled her to the bone. She still turned heads and she knew it. Unfortunately they tended to be the heads of the dullest of men at the worst of times.
'Do you mind if my colleague and I sit here ?' he asked while pointing at the seat directly opposite hers.
She wanted to say yes. 'You bet I mind, you little sleaze.'
'Of course not. Why should I mind?', she smiled rather shyly.
After nearly an hour of politely going and back and fourth, the conversation had come to an uncomfortable halt. To her own surprise, she hadn't mind the talk. It had kept her from thinking the obvious. Kept her from remembering where she was going.
Aberdeen to London, 1976.
Staring absently through the foggy train window, Sarah Jane Smith's thoughts were hardly preoccupied with the rapidly passing Scottish countryside or the oncoming storm looming behind one of it's rugged highland plateaus.
Any other day she would have been entranced by it's overwhelming beauty. Any other day and she might have felt compelled to abandon the train altogether. To see. Taste. Touch. Experience whatever it was this place in space and time had to offer a traveler.
Not today. Not alone.
Her eyes wandered to the plush owl thrown carelessly in the opposite seat. Next to it stood the flower handpicked by the Doctor from this very earth. An earth thousands of years into the future. Long after all of this would be torn to pieces by super solar flares. Destroyed, abandoned by mankind and then reborn again. Ready and willing to start anew.
Seated across the aisle from her, a kind looking middle aged man had been shamelessly treating his fellow passengers to a snore concerto ever since they had left Aberdeen just over an hour ago. After a few less than subtle sighs of annoyance from certain passengers in the car, everyone had gotten used to the seemingly never-ending 'buzz' emanating from right beside the young reporter.
It hadn't bothered her once. If the simple act of snoring could have provided her the tiniest amount of comfort, she would have gladly done so herself.
Glancing sideways, a faint smile appeared on the young journalist's lips as she watched how a few stray hairs on either side of his graying moustache fluttered upwards enthusiastically every time he loudly exhaled. His lips vibrating. He looked familiar somehow. Someone she knew ?
That thought barely had time to sink in before Sarah found herself overwhelmed by memories of her time with the Doctor. One of those memories concerned the tragic fate of poor Laurence Scarman. So proud of his radio telescope. Her smile was replaced by wistful melancholy as she looked at the snoozing man once again. Yes. One could have easily mistaken them for brothers.
Sarah sighed deeply. Were she and the Doctor to blame for his death? He had only wanted to help and was murdered by his own blood as a direct consequence of their meddling. Perhaps they were partially responsible for all the people who had met their demise in their presence. She had often wondered how the Doctor coped with the constant loss of life that surrounded him and that day he had more or less given her an answer. Just not the kind she had expected or rather, hoped for.
He had rolled Scarman 's limp body aside like a second hand rug before quickly returning his attention to the matter at hand - the wheels in his mind spinning away at breakneck speed, just like they always had. Just like they always would. How could he have been so callous?
If the loss of a life wasn't able to distress him even in the slightest, then why did he bother in the first place? No. She couldn't believe he didn't care. Even if Scarman had been just one more insignificant earthling. In the greater scheme of things it was merely a tradeoff. Perhaps that's how the Doctor saw it. One life in order to protect the whole world.
She had to believe he cared about every single one of them and that his offhandedness was just the alien's way of protecting himself and therefore protecting the universe. After all, if he didn't get the job done, who would?
She knew all too well he wasn't human. It was something that neither he or anyone else ever allowed her to forget, no matter how close she was to doing so on occasion. She wasn't sure when or how it happened but every feeling that had always been clear and simple with his previous incarnation had grown and expanded into something which was so difficult to define with this new version. Man. Alien.
That eccentric genius who's mad and wonderful spirit was aptly reflected in the wild nest of curls on his head. That joyous and gentle loon who made her feel like she was the most important thing in the universe to him. Well, next to his 'old girl' and the beloved scarf of course, as she would never dream of coming between that particular trio. Amused by her own thoughts and toying with her damp hair, she was suddenly struck by an inexplicable yet horrible sense of impending doom.
'Damn you, Doctor. So many things I wanted to tell you', she whispered to herself. 'What if we never see each other… Stop it, Sarah!' She had to stop thinking like that.
Growing increasingly restless, she re-positioned herself in her seat and began biting her fingernails; something she hadn't done since she was ten. Lavinia hated it witch a rather comical passion and the few times she had done so in her presence, her aunt had groaned loudly and shared eerie stories of children who had entire hands growing in their stomach as a consequence of nibbling on their nails.
A nervous chuckle escaped her throat. Such a random memory.
'Silly girl. He's probably standing in front of your door right now. Annoyed and grumpy wondering why it's taking you so long to open it.
A wide smile slowly crept onto her features as she contemplated how he would be growing more impatient and childish with every passing minute. Eventually he would find some part of the Tardis to 'improve', whether it was working perfectly or not. In fact he'd probably break it in the very process of improvement and they would be forced to travel to some seedy dark planet for spare parts.
The last time they did that, the Doctor had gotten so sloshed he lost all but his clothes during some
Little known inter-galactic card-game on Zontax 7, or as the Doctor had gleefully described it: The 'garage' of the universe. Nothing but Spaceport after workshop after bar. A post-apocalyptic Wild West.
He had even tried to liven up the game by adding her into the mix as a 'deal sweetener' when there was nothing left in his pockets to bet.
By the time her furious slap had caused his chair to topple over and his hat to fly halfway across the sordid establishment, she was already approaching the exit. She had heard him scramble to his feet while stuttering what could have been interpreted as some kind of apology but had refused to give in to the sudden sweet talk.
'As soon as we leave - That is IF we are even able to - You're going to take me home ! I've had it !'
After a determined march back to the Tardis, she had been able to isolate herself in her room for at least a good two hours before slowly wandering back to console room where she found a sober Doctor already planning their next destination. And it wasn't earth.
He had looked at her with pained blue eyes and 'sorry' on the tip of his tongue.
'Sarah, I… ' He looked so ashamed. A tiny part of her thought it was adorable. 'Look at him. Big man.' The other part of her felt too sorry to let him grovel. The last thing she wanted to do was play ego games and chase him away.
A nod of understanding on her part and that was it. The widest of grins plastered on his face. Childlike excitement and happiness in his big blue eyes. Enough to convince herself she would never leave his side.
'I hope it's not raining in Croydon or he'll go mad', Sarah thought while simultaneously looking at the grey clouds hovering above the Scottish countryside.
What was it between them? He was a 750 year old Timelord from another galaxy with an infinitely superior intellect to her own. She was a 26 year old human from Croydon. To her, the years they had spent together seemed to be the only ones that mattered and made her who she was right now. A stronger, wiser, albeit crazier Sarah Jane Smith. To him however, their time together must have seemed like nothing more than the blink of an eye.
Their differences were undeniable. But equally undeniable was the profound friendship and unspoken affection between them. Not to mention the array of other feelings she had felt towards him on more than one occasion during these last 2 years.
An intricate web of emotions someone with her practically non-existent romantic experience couldn't even begin to untangle. Even if she could, would she even want to ? She liked it. It made her feel more alive than ever before.
She may have never been an expert in matters of the heart but she was all too aware of the effect he'd had on her ever since he had changed and matters had only gotten more complicated after Harry left.
As much as he pretended to be annoyed by Harry, he had grown fond of him as well. And yet, it was only after he had stayed behind that the Doctor seemed to come into his own around her. Ever so carefully testing the possibilities and boundaries between them. His previous aloofness with Harry around had given way to an effortless and wonderful ease. A playful and caring tenderness that had become all too easy - and admittedly pleasant - to confuse as romantic in nature. Perhaps she was just imagining things.
If she was, she had good reason.
After landing on Zeta Minor he had looked at her with such adoration she still wondered how she had been able to keep herself from floating right off that infernal planet. Searching desperately for words to ease the heavenly but awkward tension between them, she had deviated their focus away from each other and onto an object the Doctor had found. Sarah cursed herself. 'You dolt. You just had to bring up that sodding piece of hardware, didn't you? If you ever had momentum on your side.'
'For goodness sake, girl. What are you? Fifteen?' Once again she twisted nervously in her seat and turned her head towards the man next to her. A petty effort to redirect her thoughts.
'Perhaps if we had sent Scarman away in time.' She whispered to herself. So many lives they couldn't save. Her mind was all over the place. As soon as she felt the first prick of imminent tears in the corner of her eyes, she desperately tried to console herself by the memory of those they had been able to help. Vira, Sorenson, Giuliano. They had succeeded in averting the Dalek's evolution and had prevented earth and all of humanity from being consumed by the Krynoid. 'That's not too shabby, old girl. Not too shabby at all.'
Still the tears came flooding down, accompanied by a sick feeling in her gut. And why exactly? For them? For all the things she saw and would probably see in nightmares for years to come? For Him? 'Maybe it's better if you never set foot inside of that Tardis again', she mused while wiping away the tears with her red sleeve. Talk. That's what they needed to do. Have a long talk.
Glancing at her watch, sound of raindrops tapping against the windows around her slowly increased in volume and provided the train with soothing background music. Four o'clock. A deep and low sigh once again escaped her lips. She'd be lucky if she'd make it back to Croydon by midnight. She was tired. So very tired. With the train on course for London, Sarah Jane Smith closed her heavy eyes and slowly drifted into a deep slumber.