Title: Lightning in Sapphire
Author: Kristin
Rating: G
Pairing: Four/Sarah
Disclaimer: I promise I don't own them
Summary: A day of relaxation for the Doctor and Sarah, as they visit a planet with an interesting daily nocturnal event
He was decidedly ungraceful, lacking coordination and, obviously, skill, but his tenacity ensured he would remain on the bike until, well, he either learned or wearied of falling. She doubted it would be the latter, because a Time Lord's often annoyingly absent need for sleep fortified them in perseverance of other tasks humans would have likely given up succeeding at long before the Doctor's species even considered it.
After another "hmph" and a louder grunt, she looked up from her book again, pushing her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose.
"Trouble, then?" she smirked at the recumbent Doctor, his lanky frame somehow draped over the fallen bike so it was hard to tell if he was pinned beneath it or vice versa.
"You could say that, yes. But it is exhilarating, isn't it?" his voice hitched a moment as he caught his breath, standing up and pulling the bike along with him.
"Are you asking me if it's exhilirating to fall off a bike, or reassuring yourself that it's par for the course?"
He ran his hands over his curls, grinning madly and propping the bike against the railing of the boardwalk.
"Why would I need you to assure me, Sarah? There's nothing wrong with a tumble when you're learning. Got to keep the blood flowing properly, you know."
"Mm-hmm. I think you look silly. And it's obvious you're not learning at all. You're just...improving your falling technique, which is really unmatched at this point, Doctor. No need to further it."
Sarah smiled widely, placing her book over her lap and curling her legs beneath her as she came to a sitting position. She was glad she'd chosen to wear shorts today, despite the overcast sky earlier. She doubted the Doctor's attempts at riding a bike were helped any by his insistence on wearing his pants and scarf.
"Oy, so much for gratitude. I bring you here to relax and the minute I struggle with my endeavor, I get cheek," he huffed, leaving the bike in place against the railing and coming to join her on the blanket she'd spread over the hot sand. He dropped himself heavily beside her, arms flying loosely into his lap.
"Look, don't you think you're being a little impatient? After all, humans don't learn to ride bikes in a day."
"That's because you're human."
"Ah, I should have guessed. And so, as a Time Lord, you just come by balancing on bicycles naturally?"
He pulled at a few curls absently, his head tilted.
"Well, I've ridden one of those contraptions before. Evidently, it's been longer than I earlier surmised since I've done so. I seem to be a bit rusty. Not to worry, it will all come back to me eventually."
She hunched over, her wrists laying against her tucked-under thighs.
"What's 'eventually?' 'Till you learn to ride again? That could be days. We've got places to go," she ruminated.
"Have we?" He was amused by her apparent restlessness at the thought of staying in one place too long.
"I assume we do, especially since there's nothing especially harrowing consuming our time at the moment."
"Assumptions narrow the mind, Sarah."
"But you'll be bored out of your mind lingering here, Doctor. You've nothing to outwit."
The Doctor teasingly waved a finger at her.
"You're assuming again, Sarah, must amend that. I neither agreed with, nor denied your conclusion."
She rolled her eyes, untucking her legs and picking up her book again to evade any further discussion.
"Honestly, Doctor, will you just let me in on your plans? You're being annoyingly circular."
"I thought you expected that by now?"
"I do, but --"
"It's endearing, isn't it?"
Sarah threw the book at him so it landed gently in his lap, then stood abruptly, brushing any stray grains of sand from her clothing.
"I'm getting some ice cream."
When she returned, he was standing next to the bike, and in the process of removing his scarf. Sarah licked at the vanilla cone, grateful for the images of home it conjured within her. She approached him, unsurprised at his continued attempts to ride it. What did surprise her, however, was when he turned to her and looped the scarf around her neck, pausing to allow her to move her ice cream away from her mouth.
"Pardon, Doctor, but I'm going to get hot with this material suffocating my neck."
He pulled the bike away from the railing of the boardwalk.
"Nonsense, you're eating ice cream, you'll be chilled in a few moments. Besides, the sun will be setting soon, temperature drops rapidly here."
Sarah backed away, allowing him movement as he stood the bike upright and pushed the kickstand (or what equated to one, anyway) up.
"I'll return shortly."
She licked at her ice cream, then shouted to his retreating, balanced figure, which was so different from the unstable rider of earlier, "I take it it's all come back to you!"
"Evidently," she heard faintly as he careened smoothly down a small dip in the sidewalk ahead.
Not more than ten minutes later, the sun set in a matter of seconds (a sight to behold in and of itself) and the moon sat so low on the horizon she imagined it could fall right into the ocean. The stars were at least three times bigger on this planet, and not nearly as numerous as those adorning the twilight skies of Earth. She rather enjoyed the sapphire glow of the moon, a luminance that blended it well to the sky it inhabited, though it shone brightly enough to not be missed.
Sarah tightened the scarf about her neck, pulling her knees as close to her chest as possible to conserve warmth against the chilled breeze blowing off the water. Just as her mind roamed to thoughts about where the Doctor had gone and when he'd be back, she heard the unmistakable sound of a bicycle bell, and enthralled giggling behind her. Turning, she watched him heavily mount the bike once again against the boardwalk's wooden rails and immediately head her way.
As he flopped onto the blanket beside her, he questioned, "Have I missed it?"
She rested the right side of her head on her raised knees.
"Missed what?"
"I haven't then," he replied, off-handedly.
The Doctor watched her turn her head again so her chin rested where her cheek had been, allowing her to stare ahead at the expansive ocean and the luminous moon that reigned over it like a king on a throne. He barely suppressed a smile, knowing the spectacle soon to come. He secretly hoped she enjoyed it as much as he did, but he wasn't always the best at anticipating whether his companions would enjoy the same things he did. Sometimes he was right, sometimes not -- there was often a disconnect between expectations of mutual pleasure.
He slowly took his coat off, noticing Sarah's hunched and compressed form, making to offer it to her. But he was immediately distracted when two large clouds, colored just like the moon, appeared in the distant sky. They roiled and grew to an enormous height and Sarah picked her chin up, marveling, and somewhat anxious at the sight.
"Doctor--"
"A storm, Sarah. Magnificent, at that."
As soon as he'd said it, lightning began to skate across the bottoms of the clouds, rising slowly upwards to the tops, then spiraling down again and beginning over. Even more awing than the movement itself was the myriad colors produced -- orange lightning, purple lightning, green and red and even black. None of the lightning touched ground, but lived within the clouds that bore it, thunder rumbling as an almost supplemental reminder of the very presence of the storm itself. But the thunder, like the lightning, was innocuous. One element was seen, the other simply heard and felt, but it connected the Doctor to the magic of intangible creations -- the idea that maybe some things are best understood and inherently known, than ever deliberately made apparent.
"Earlier today, it was so easy to forget that we weren't on Earth. But this -- I couldn't see this anywhere else."
She whispered it, but it broke his slight trance, and he remembered he'd wanted to give her his coat. As he draped the material unceremoniously across her shoulders, he asked, "Would you rather be on Earth, Sarah?"
Sarah pulled the sleeves around her body, pulling her knees closer and resting her chin there once again, to concentrate.
"I couldn't see this on Earth."
And she smiled, needing not to say anything further. Many things would be absent in life on Earth, and she wasn't ready, or even keen to feel that void.
She was happy just to watch lightning dance across a bundle of clouds, needing not to fear its deadliness. And the Doctor -- he was happy, he supposed, to watch her wonder. Because it was one thing he could cause, with certainty, and he rather liked that.
fin.