OK, normally I wouldn't approve of writing two fics at once, but this has been brewing for a while, and so...

Jethro stared at the new girl as she sat down. She was stunningly pretty. Shimmering gold hair, leather jacket and strange blue-green eyes that seemed to change shade every time he looked. Her posture was arrow straight, yet her body was curvaceous. He wasn't the only one. The boys were ogling, some were drooling, and even one who had come out about being gay 5 years ago looked smitten. The couple of lesbians were also eyeing her with interest, but the rest of the girls were glaring daggers at her enviously.

All previous attraction Jethro had felt was lost in the repulsion he held now for his classmates. He hated his entire species. The way they acted so knowledgeable and empathic yet could act like cold hearted monsters. The way an innocent man could die just because he was different. Because, ironically, the alien acted the most human of all of them, it was he who had tried to help, he who insisted that the newcomer didn't necessarily mean harm. Humans, all lust, rage, fear, trying to rationalize the inexcusable. The new girl had no idea of the rivalry she'd sparked. He could hear the more popular boys calling dibs, and he almost gagged.

"Sir?" Jethro looked around, not recognising the voice. He mentally berated himself, of course he wouldn't, it was the new girl speaking.

"I think there's a problem with my workbook"

"Oh, and why's that?"

Jethro detested this teacher, he had a way of making everyone feel like idiots, and a knack of explaining in a way that nobody could comprehend. The new girl was going to be presented as a dumb blond and everyone would guffaw like buffoons. It had grown tiresome, but had recently become almost intolerable.

"Surely it's not possible to determine the position of an object without 5 coordinates?"

"Come now Susan, the universe we occupy has only 4 dimensions, height, length, width and time, what would you suggest the fifth be?"

"Space."

"Don't be ridiculous child, as far as I'm aware, you have understood the question and just want to draw attention to yourself. There are four dimensions, of which we are studying the first three. Now please get back to your work and don't bother me again."

"But sir..."

"Enough, I said!"

Susan was quiet for the rest of the lesson. When she handed in the sheet, though, the look on the teacher's face was priceless. It transpired that Susan had not only completed the entire workbook, with the correct answers every single time, but had also drawn, with schematics, labels and equations, a working model for a five dimensional universe, complete with notes on how this was more accurate than the widely accepted 4D version.

She was, it turned out, a whizz at everything, though seemed to get on the nerves of every teacher within 5 min. In chemistry, she refused to mix the liquids on account she was allergic and insisted she leave the class before anyone else did. History, she argued that the textbook was inaccurate and she'd had the physics teacher in tears when she'd proclaimed that his latest paper, published to great acclaim, was fundamentally flawed in no less than 6 places.

When admirers approached her in the playground, full of false admiration for her exploits, she appeared to have no recollection whatsoever of the morning's teachings. She sat and rubbed her temples, face scrunched up as if she had a migraine.

And so it continued, In English she corrected the teacher's grammar, Geography she drew the entire empire from memory, with the stellar battle sites marked clearly. The Politics teacher had evidently been warned and set her an essay, one that the other's would have sweated on for weeks, and still she had finished before the bell had rung.

It was in Biology that she slipped up though. It was revision, so everyone knew what they were doing. Their task was to draw the cardiovascular system, Nothing too challenging. Everyone had a more or less accurate drawing...except for Susan. She had drawn two hearts on her sketch. The arteries, veins and chambers were all there neatly labelled, but there were two hearts. The entire class were in fits of laughter, mocking the girl as she confusedly stated that she thought that everyone had two hearts. Jethro looked on, pity swelling in his chest as the girl went from beauty to nerd to the scorn of the school. The biology teacher, smirking, had taken her pulse and declared that she had one heart just like the rest of the human populace. Susan had apologised meekly and had followed the lesson without another word. Luckily for her, it was the last for the day, so her classmates couldn't take advantage of the infallible Susan's newfound weakness.

Susan was always to last to arrive for school, coming in just as the bell rang, every time. She was the first to leave, never making conversation with anyone, she sat alone, rubbing her temples and shook off any concern (not that there was much) by being vacant and distracted. She was the top of every class, but after the biology incident, she was a lot more careful and less outspoken. The most popular boys had asked her out within a week, but she had politely told them no. As time went on those lower down the social ranks plucked up the courage, but were met with no more success than the first. The rumours that she was a lesbian didn't last long, as it became clear that whatever her sexuality, she wasn't interested in dating.

It was a Friday when it happened. They were looking at ancient writings in Languages and the teacher was chuffed to show them a picture of what was thought to be the oldest cliff face in the universe with writing that would be, when deciphered, the oldest script ever recorded. Susan took one look at the image and froze. Jethro was the first one to notice, and he discreetly threw his pencil at her, unfortunately the teacher turned around at the wrong moment.

"Mr Cane, would you please go and sit outside, but first apologise to Ms Foreman."

"But sir,"

"Now, Mr Cane, apologise and leave"

"But look at her!"

Jethro lunged forward. Susan didn't bat an eyelid. Her eyes were glassy and she was doing a perfect imitation of a statue. Well, almost perfect, Jethro corrected himself. Her right hand was shaking, just a slight tremor, and she was mumbling, so quietly that Jethro could hear the sounded, but not distinguish words of phrases. The teacher, instead of trying to help, moved back, staring. Jethro clicked his fingers in front of her nose. No response. When he shook her shoulders slightly, her hands went up to cover her ears and she cowered in her seat. The rest of the class had edged away and the teacher was tugging at Jethro's coat, trying to make him do the same. Jethro hardly registered this as Susan began rocking back and forth; her mumbles were now sobs of pain.

Where are we, he's not here, the seal is breaking, we can't get out, we can't, too early, he's not here!

Her screams were becoming hysterical, she was clutching at her hair, as if she wanted to tear it out.

Find him! Find...

Jethro caught her as she fell. Ignoring the whispers of his classmates, he carried her to the nurse.

Susan made a lot of fuss when she woke up; she had no recollection of the incident, As far as she was aware, she had been a split second away from looking at the image of the cliff. Jethro told the nurse he'd look after her, he didn't know why he said it, it was more like: he heard himself say it, but didn't consciously decide to. She refused to let him take her to a hospital, saying all she needed was to find her grandfather. Jethro's ears pricked up at this:

"But you said you couldn't remember anything."

"I can't, but I still have to find him"

"But why..."

"I don't know, I just do."

It happened again when they were studying myths in History, something about the Darlecks? And then when hypothesising about an extremely powerful race that kept the fledgling empires in check. It went on, but Susan would never see a Doctor, always asking for celery and tea and insisting she find her grandfather. Each time she stayed unconscious for slightly longer and each time it was Jethro who dragged her to the nurse. He preferred it this way; he didn't have to look at his classmates faces. No one could find a link to why she seemed to have these fits, and one time the maths teacher told them all to ignore her, as she was just seeking attention. In the end, she'd fallen into a coma and had to be hospitalized for an entire week, much to her dismay, and the teacher was now facing disciplinary action.

Jethro didn't feel sorry for him, it was obvious she wasn't faking and ignoring the problem because it was inconvenient just made it worse. After Midnight, his parents never talked about what happened, they changed the subject every time or threatened him with therapy. They flatly denied any responsibility and as time went on, Jethro felt himself drift further and further away. He was disillusioned with the entire human race. Nobody ever did anything out of kindness, because it was good. They always had an ulterior motive.

Finally Jethro cracked. He purposefully waited for Susan to arrive at the school gates and seized her wrist as she walked past. The timing was perfect, the bell had just rung and with all the students jostling to get in, Susan and Jethro could slip away unnoticed. But what Jethro hadn't banked on, was Susan putting up a fight. Sure a hissed protest, and/or her trying to wrench her arm away, but Susan was an ace fighter – another gift to add to the brains and beauty. Quite by accident, Jethro hit her left shoulder and her eyes widened almost comically, and for a moment Jethro thought she was having another fit – until she fainted. Susan unconscious was now so common that nobody took a second glance, let alone offered assistance (not that that had happened before-but it was possible). So it was all too easy to bundle her into his car and drive to the nearest hospital. Using his car was unusual for him. He took the bus as much as he could; his parents had installed a tracker in his car. But, desperate times and all, taking public transport would raise far too many questions.

Susan stirred just as they arrived. Jethro immediately made to keep her from jumping out the car, but was surprised when she sighed and gave him the: this-is-completely-useless-but-I'll-humour-you-because-I-know-it's-the-easiest-way-to-get-you-off-my-case look. Unbuckling, she nodded towards the hospital as if to say: well, this is why we came isn't it? Jethro escorted her in, certain something was up, that she'd do a runner, something. He could barely believe it when the doctor had announced that there was nothing wrong with her. He had hinted that she would need to see a psychiatatrists, in case she had repressed memories that were being triggered. Jethro didn't like how the doctor was looking at Susan, but didn't say anything. If he was going to get jealous at every male who looked at her like that, there would be little room in his life for any other emotion. Added to that Susan was asexual, for want of a better definition for the way she reacted to that sort of thing.

What was he thinking? Why did he have to fall for the only person in the universe who would never ever ever ever look at him twice?

"Take me out for lunch?" Susan asked suddenly. They were halfway back. Where? Home? Jethro shuddered, his parents would throw a fit if they knew he'd been skiving. School? No, going back would draw more attention than if they stayed absent. He'd actually been hoping that she'd direct him to her place, he hardly knew anything about her and seeing as he was going to so much trouble to keep her sane and healthy, he felt he should know more about who he was caring for. Pulling over at one of the less shady cafés, he held out a hand to help her out of the car.

"I'm not delicate!" Susan snapped, irritably. Remembering how she'd punched him earlier, Jethro winced. "Sorry about that." Susan muttered, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Again, Jethro was surprised about how talkative Susan became once they'd sat down. She showered him with questions, barely leaving time for him to reply before moving on. She loved to guess the answers as well, most of the time she was way off, but she hit the mark bang on enough times for it to be unnerving. Jethro was left wondering, after one of her more outlandish theories, whether she actually knew, like could read his mind, but lied to make him feel more comfortable. When they'd exhausted almost every subject about himself, Jethro tried to interrogate Susan the same way, only to be met with a sad smile.

"I can't remember most of my past. I know I have a grandfather, I know he's looking for me, 'cause he promised he'd come back. I know my parents are dead. I know my name. But not much more, I don't even know which planet I was born on."

Jethro was intrigued. Susan was by far the smartest student, hell the smartest person, in the school. How could she be so ignorant of herself when she knew practically all there was to know? To the point that she didn't even know her own age for certain?

"What happened?" she asked suddenly. Jethro looked up from paying the bill.

"What?"

"Not many people care so much. I've seen how they look at me, I'm the freak. But you...help, I suppose. Again and again and I never thanked you."

Jethro looked up sharply. Now she'd said it, he realised that he didn't want her gratitude. It shouldn't be an incentive to do good. The deed should be done because it was the right thing to do, not so he could shower himself in glory. Her thanks underlined that what he had done was good. There was no need, it should have gone without saying, and it should have been expected of him to help those who needed it. It shouldn't be labelled as good; rather, those who ignored the weak should be labelled as cowards. He should have never wanted her thanks.

She must have seen something in his face and she coaxed it out of him in the car.

"But you need to say thanks to express gratitude..."

"Don't you see? That's what I mean, it shouldn't be a reward system, like a treat you give a dog when it obeys it's master. You needed help so it goes without saying that you should receive it! I don't want your thanks."

Susan stared at him, quite surprised at his outburst. Jethro was suddenly ashamed, he shouldn't have snapped at her like that.

"What was it?" Susan asked again. They had reached Jethro's home now, and he hadn't asked her where she lived. Reluctantly, he related everything that happened on Midnight. Susan was quiet throughout, she didn't interrupt, she didn't judge, she didn't tell him that it wasn't his fault when it was, she listened. All the frustration, loneliness and loathing for himself and everyone else were let out. He had tried to distinguish himself, even back then he was a loner, a rebel, yet when it mattered, he was just like the rest of them, weak, scared and ready to commit murder to save his pathetic excuse for a life. Susan held him as he sobbed. When he calmed down, he was horrified at himself. He had never let anyone see what that holiday had done to him, not entirely. He'd never breathed a word to his closest friends and here he was, crying like a child. Embarrassed he noticed that he'd completely ruined her shirt. His mumbled apologies were silenced when Susan muttered distractedly:

"I'm sure I know this Doctor from somewhere..."

Jethro laughed humourlessly. "No you can't, he's not the sort of person you forget easily."

"No" Susan mused, still thinking hard.

"Come inside, I'm sure there are a few shirts of mine you can borrow." Jethro offered. Susan looked down, as if noticing the tear stains for the first time.

"But...your parents?"

"What about them?" Jethro asked sulkily.

"Won't they be surprised, I mean..." she blushed but Jethro waved off her apology.

Listening intently at the keyhole, Jethro determined that his parents were out, mercifully.

"Beer?" he offered, opening the door and making his way to the kitchen.

"Please," called Susan, pulling open various drawers, trying to find something that wasn't too big. Pulling a dark T-shirt over her head she exited the room and stopped dead.

What do you think? I think Jethro's character should be used more often, torture him about what he almost did (cuz I'm sadistic that way)

I'm not sure whether to include the 10th or 11th Doctor - cause he will have to appear eventually. 10 makes a bigger impact, especially on Biff, Val and Jethro, but 11 is the incumbent Doctor...

Review?

Swiss.