Notes: Hellooo! This is the beginning of a new story from yours truly. For a bit of background information, read Soldier's Grin, but it's not necessary to understand this story. Some of you may recognize bits of it, but I swear to you it is new, updated, and even cooler than the original. It is epic, it is touching, it is everything you could ever possibly want from a piece of Doctor Who fanfiction.

Perhaps I'm overselling it a bit. Read it and get back to me.

There are several (warranted) f-bombs and a brief reproductive biology lesson in this story, so if that sort of thing bothers you, consider yourself warned.

Finally, I'd like to thank my lovely beta Cupcakeflake for all her nitpicking and for helping me find solutions to problems that I didn't even know I had with this story. She is amazing and you should all follow her on tumblr.

Part 1, Chapter 1

It's a rash decision, going over to see Sarah. Possibly even a stupid one. She's entirely aware of that, and yet somehow she can't bring herself to turn around and return to her nearly emptied flat. She's spent the last few weeks slowly and efficiently dismantling her life.

Despite the fact that she's assembled a list of all the reasons she shouldn't be going over to see Sarah, she's still getting off the bus near her flat, walking the half-mile to the front door, and ringing the doorbell. As she waits for Sarah to respond, she realizes exactly how anxious she really is. Maybe it's because this is the first time she's stopped moving since she made up her mind to visit; there's something about momentary pauses that make you unable to keep from thinking.

It turns out that her dread is well-founded as the speaker beside the doorbell buzzes loudly as the door unlocks. All without a single word from Sarah.

Jenny trudges up the staircase to Sarah's flat. She's trying not to feel like she's walking to her death, but it's really not working. Just as her hand reaches up to knock, the door swings open, and an extremely pissed-off Sarah is standing in the doorway.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Er, around," Jenny replies quietly, hand stroking the end of her plaited hair.

"Around? You disappeared off the face of the earth for two bloody months. We thought you were dead."

When Jenny doesn't reply, Sarah continues. "You missed Christmas."

"I was in London," Jenny replies immediately.

That would have been a reasonable answer for anyone who didn't know Jenny. And Sarah knew Jenny very well. "Why were you in London?"

"I was looking for someone." Another uncharacteristically vague answer.

Sarah raises her eyebrows in a question. In response, Jenny jerks her head, indicating the interior of Sarah's flat. With a sigh to the ceiling, Sarah stands aside as Jenny enters the flat.

"How's Josh?" Jenny asks as she surveys the mess of toys and books on the sofa and coffee table.

"No, you're not. You're not fucking doing that. You are're going to tell me what the hell is going on. I've been down your flat, I've rang you I don't know how many times, I've even called the bloody police, and-"

Wait. "You called the police?"

"Well, I was about to!"

Despite the situation, Jenny can't help but be slightly hurt. "Two months and you didn't call the police," she stated, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought you were angry with me! Or that you'd suddenly turned into a giant prick," said Sarah, facing away from Jenny as she walked to the kitchenette.

Jenny, for her part, is more than slightly taken aback. "Why would I be angry with you?"

Sarah, who had been just about to fill the kettle at the sink, stopped to look directly at Jenny. "So you're not angry."

"No," she replies, as though that were a patently bizarre thing to be. There's a pause as Sarah fumes silently. Jenny notices the kettle. "So, are we having tea?"

At that, the dam holding Sarah's fury breaks, and she slams the plastic kettle down on the countertop. "You sit the fuck down and explain yourself."

Jenny's eyes widen, and she pulls out a metal chair. It screeches against the floor. She then sits down wordlessly at the table, which is arguably the best decision she's made since she's gotten here.

Sarah joins her at the table. "So. What's going on?" she asks, but it's really more of a demand than a question.

Jenny surveys the older woman, taking in her every feature. Her hands are clasped together and resting against her mouth, as though she's thinking of what to say. Which is partially true. She knows what she would like to tell Sarah. The truth is what she deserves, and it's what Jenny came here intending to give, but now that it's time to piece the words together…she suddenly can't think of what to say. She thinks briefly of her father, as she has been doing more often as of late. Jenny couldn't imagine him ever being at such a complete loss for words. Another way she's different, and not for the better.

Eventually she finds a way to start. "How long have we known each other?" she asks, the sound of her voice jarring in the tense silence.

That gives Sarah pause. Given the situation, it's a seemingly bizarre question. "Years," she replies.

"Yeah, you were a kid." Jenny's attention drifts away again, to thoughts of the sixteen year old girl Sarah had once been.

Sarah's mind's eye has also wandered, judging by how she's staring into the middle distance, and Jenny continues talking.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jenny says. She briefly pauses as she tries to think of something. "Oh, how long? Thirteen? Yeah, thirteen years, so yeah, I think I can say we've known each other a while."

Sarah nods, looking like she'd quite like to know where Jenny's going with this.

Jenny smiles at her, an affectionate and proud smile. "And you've come such a long way. You're a nurse, and a hell of a mum. Remember when Josh was born? I remember you being so scared at becoming a mum. And now you're like a super-mum. You even manage to 'mum' me. And I'm older than you."

Sarah starts to protest. "You're not older than me."

"I was older than you when we met."

She laughs slightly. "No, you weren't."

And then she thinks on it. "No, wait. You were older. Are older."

Jenny watches her best friend slowly parse the data, and when she seems to become confused, Jenny asks gently, "Do you have any pictures of me?"

They both know the answer. Among their small group of friends and acquaintances, Jenny's notorious for avoiding the camera. Except...

"Yeah, actually, I think I've got one."

Jenny's momentarily surprised, but recovers quickly. "Would you fetch it for me?"

Sarah gets up, still not quite sure where the conversation's going, and goes over to a small display cupboard to pull out a photo album. She brings it back to the table, rifling through the pages to a particular page. On that page is a group photograph, taken at the hospital the day Josh was born. In the centre sit the mother and son. Family and close friends surround them, faces beaming.

Off to one side stands Jenny, smiling at the people posing. She's a little blurry, as though she were in the middle of flicking her plait round to the back of her head. She looks happy, but uncomfortable.

They both look at the photograph for a moment, and then Jenny speaks. "How old do I look in that picture?"

Sarah looks a bit closer. "Twenty, maybe?"

Jenny nods. "And how old do I look now?"

Sarah stops, as though she's just realized something. "About twenty."

Jenny nods again. "And how old's Josh?"

"He's seven."

Jenny leans back in her chair slightly, waiting for the penny to drop. Sarah, for her part, is looking between the girl in the photograph and the one in front of her, searching for some indication of ageing.

"You can't be twenty-seven," she finally states, voice flat as she tries to understand.

"I'm not. I'm more like eighty-three. Ninety-three. Maybe ninety-six."

Sarah's about to say something, when Jenny continues talking.

"Yeah, ninety-six. I came here in 1907."

Whatever Sarah was going to say has been completely erased from her mind. "So, you're…"

"Ninety-six years old. Yes," Jenny says quickly.

"But…"

"But what?"

"But you can't be!"

"Yes, I can. Not human."

"So you're ninety-six years old," Sarah states, waiting for Jenny to flinch, for her to smile and say that she's playing some sort of bad joke.

Despite how much Sarah wants her to, Jenny doesn't crack a smile. "Yes," she replies, without breaking Sarah's gaze.

"And you're not human."

"No. No, I'm not."

Sarah levels a sharp look at Jenny, waiting to see if she'll break. She doesn't. At that point Sarah makes an executive decision. "Get the fuck out my flat."

Wait. No. It's not supposed to go like that. "Sarah, wait. I can prove it."

Sarah's genuinely angry now. She stands up and begins walking to the door. "Get out. I can't believe you'd try to do something like this. First you disappear, and then this? It's not funny, Jenny. It's This is cruel."

"No, wait. I've got two hearts. I can prove it."

Sarah moves to drag Jenny out of the chair and forcibly remove her from the flat, but Jenny grabs Sarah's hand and puts it against her chest. "Feel my heartbeat?" she asks.

She does feel Jenny's heartbeat. But something's off about it. It's a bit fast, for one thing, but-

"It's in the wrong place, isn't it?" Jenny asks.

Sarah's looking at her hand, which is feeling the strong pulse of Jenny's heart.

Jenny continues. "That's 'cause I've got two of them." And she moves Sarah's hand to the other side of her chest. A second strong heartbeat.

Sarah then immediately grabs Jenny's wrist to feel her pulse. It's abnormally fast. Almost double the normal speed. She should be dead, or at least on strong medication.

Jenny smiles at Sarah's reaction. "It's fast 'cause there's two of them."

And it clicks.

"You're not human."

"No, no I'm not."

Sarah boggles.

Jenny smiles awkwardly. "Sorry."