Sarah Jane stretched languorously and rolled over. Then she groaned, deeply and with feeling. Every muscle protested the abuse it had received the previous day. "What did I do to myself?" she wondered for a moment, before it all came back to her. Lunch with the Doctor. Oh. Right. She laughed and allowed herself one more minute of blessed inertia, then forced herself to sit up.
The room was dark, with only a bit of light coming in through the door, which had been left slightly ajar. It was enough for her to see that she sat in a woven circular nest-like basket which was filled with incredibly soft pillows. It wasn't the easiest thing to climb out of, but she managed. She walked to the door, trying to finger-comb her hair into some sort of order, and hoping her muscles warmed up and forgave her soon.
She found the Doctor and Martha sitting at the table in the main room, finishing up a breakfast of what looked like alien fruits and grains. They had changed out of their bird-people kit and were wearing their own perfectly clean, fresh clothes.
"Morning, sleepyhead," the Doctor greeted her.
"Morning," Martha echoed cheerfully, giving her a big smile.
"Don't look at me," Sarah grumped, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
"Why ever not?" the Doctor asked, honest bafflement in his voice and on his face.
Sarah laughed, walked behind him, and hugged his neck, resting her cheek on top of his head for a moment. "Sometimes I so love the fact that you're an alien," she said. He looked up at her, even more confused. "No human male could possibly have said that with any degree of sincerity," she explained with a chuckle. She looked at his suit, then took a lapel between her fingers and felt it carefully. "Amazing. I thought this would be a total loss. The hens do good work."
"Your clothes are on the chair." Martha nodded toward the chair she meant, where Sarah saw her clothes in a neatly-folded pile.
"Wonderful," Sarah said, picking up all but the overalls and holding them to her chest. She looked at Martha. "Now please tell me there's indoor plumbing."
Martha laughed and nodded. "Just down the hall, second door on the right. Not exactly what you'd find on earth, but...well....you'll know what to do."
"I expect I will," Sarah Jane agreed as she headed down the hall.
She did. She even found something that resembled a comb, presumably designed for preening but workable with hair, so she was able to make herself presentable enough not to frighten small children--or little chicks, she thought with a grin, remembering where she was.
"So, what's for breakfast, or have you eaten it all?" she asked when she rejoined her companions at the table.
"We have a lovely assortment of fruit, grains, nuts, seeds..." said Martha, gesturing at the laden table. Then her eyes widened, she pulled an 'ew' face and finished her catalog of what was available. "...and a big bowl of something that looks like giant mealworms."
Sarah frowned and peered at the bowl she indicated. The Doctor obligingly picked it up and held it under her nose. She leaned back after one look. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."
"They're not so bad," the Doctor said, popping one in his mouth and crunching it as he returned the bowl to its place on the table. "Lots of protein!"
"I suppose a nice plate of scrambled eggs is out of the question," Sarah said, straight-faced.
Martha snorted with laughter, and the Doctor gave her a horrified look. "Sarah Jane!"
She grinned. "Just kidding!"
He huffed and shook his head. "Can't take you anywhere." But then he grinned too.
Sarah helped herself to a blue plum-like fruit and a pink something-or-other that could have been a distant relative of a banana. She sliced the latter on top of a bowl of some sort of hot grain dish, and gave it a tentative taste. "So, did I miss anything by sleeping in?"
"Just a recap of everything the Doctor learned about this place while we were taking our bird bath," Martha said.
"Which was?" She looked expectantly at the Doctor, and he obligingly retold his tale.
According to Rohstan, he explained, the moon they were on was primarily used for scientific research and as a resort. Scientific research had been moved to the moon after several accidents in research laboratories on the home world had caused isolated outbreaks of disease and some environmental contamination. The resort was on the other side of the moon from the research complex and pre-dated the "Safe Science" movement. It was such a popular and profitable enterprise that many people still holidayed there, presumably feeling secure in the knowledge that they would only be there for a short time on their holiday and the odds were in their favor that no scientific accidents would happen in that time. The disaster they had landed in was the result of an earthquake, followed by a tsunami in the freshwater sea that bordered the resort town.
"They're still searching for survivors and working on cleanup," the Doctor said in conclusion. "Martha's going to help with the injured again today, and I'll do my bit wherever I'm needed."
"Well, sign me up for something," Sarah said between bites. "The sooner we get this lot squared away, the sooner they can start digging out the TARDIS." Then she stopped, eating utensil halfway to her mouth. "Would prefer duty in a mud-free zone, if it can be arranged."
The Doctor chuckled. "You don't even have to help if you don't want to, Sarah Jane." He gave her an appraising look. "You were so tired last night. I was worried about you."
"Well, digging in mud wasn't probably the best match for my skill set," she agreed. "But it seemed to be the thing that most needed doing at the moment so that's what I did."
"And wore yourself out doing it," Martha said, commiserating.
"I'm sure I wasn't the only one."
The Doctor beamed at her, then at Martha. "And thank you both for reflecting well on me."
Sarah raised her eyebrows questioningly as she took another bite of her alien oatmeal. Since Martha's mouth was empty, she asked the question that had to be asked. "And how did we do that?"
"Well," the Doctor said, drawing out the word. "Apparently, what I did yesterday was just what was expected of a man. But having such hard working hens boosted my status considerably." They both just stared at him, and he nodded. "A man is judged by his hens in this culture. So even though the size and color of my crest leaves a lot to be desired," he continued, ruffling his hair and trying to get it to stick up as much as possible. "And I have no tail feathers to speak of at all..." He paused to let them both finish sniggering. "I can hold up my head here thanks to you."
"You're very welcome," Martha said, between chuckles.
"If hard-working hens are so valued, why does Rohstan act like we don't exist?" Sarah asked around a mouthful of cereal.
"Oh," the Doctor said, his eyes widening. "It's considered extremely bad manners for a man to talk to another man's hens in front of him."
"Really?" Sarah asked.
The Doctor nodded. "Gender-based rules are quite strict here."
"Like the division of labour?" Sarah asked, remembering Rohstan's comment about the hens being good at laundering things. The Doctor nodded again. "Then why was Martha allowed to work as a doctor?"
"Because medicine is women...erm....hens' work here."
"Oh." Sarah realized she'd been assuming that the division of labour would follow the same pattern as the happily antiquated one back home. "Then who are the journalists? Hens or...." She paused, then grinned as a new thought struck her. "If the TARDIS translates their word for females as hens, why doesn't it translate the word for male as rooster or cockerel?"
"Because the male of the species is just a man. No sense of proprietariness...ownership..." he added, with an apologetic nod to Martha. "...is contained in the term. But hens are females who are attached to a certain male. There's probably a different term for an unattached female, but we haven't run across it yet, because they assumed you were attached to me." He gave them both his most charming smile. "As I like to think you are."
Sarah and Martha exchanged eye-rolling glances. "Good thing they gave us back our wellies," Martha said.
"It is getting a bit deep in here, isn't it," Sarah agreed with a wry smile.
"And as for the journalist question," the Doctor said, wisely moving the conversation on. "We could find out. We could turn on the television."
Sarah's eyebrows went up. "They have television?"
"Of course they do," the Doctor said, nodding toward the monitor embedded in the wall. Sarah looked at it and realized she'd been too sleepy to even notice it the night before. "They have a very advanced technological culture."
"And having television proves that how?" Sarah asked.
The Doctor ignored her and aimed a small black rod at the screen, which promptly sprang to life. He waved the rod about, which caused the programs to change. He stopped it on what appeared to be a news program. "Looks like their news readers are males," he observed. He waved the rod again and stopped when the screen showed a large group of the bird people sitting in an audience and watching what appeared to be a presenter and several guests on stage.
The guests started arguing with each other, and the audience joined in, screaming raucously in support of one side or the other. The presenter tried to intervene but was shouted down.
"Oh please," Sarah Jane said after a moment. "I don't watch this sort of garbage at home. Do we have to here?"
"Just wondered if you wanted to hear what their language would sound like if the TARDIS weren't translating it for you," he said.
Sarah perked up, her curiosity piqued. "Definitely."
"Martha?" the Doctor asked.
"How would you do that?" the younger woman answered with her own question. "With the TARDIS buried and all?"
"By using my mind to block the telepathic translation temporarily," he answered.
Sarah understood Martha's hesitation perfectly. "Go ahead," she encouraged her. "He won't look at anything you don't want him to look at." Martha stared at her wide-eyed, as if she thought Sarah might be reading her mind. "Just put it behind a door," Sarah went on. And slam it tightly, she thought, with a knowing smile.
"Okay," Martha said, still not sounding at all sure.
"Just watch the screen and listen," the Doctor said as he reached a long arm out to each side, touching Sarah on the temple with one hand and Martha with the other.
Sarah had to laugh as the true sounds of the local language came through to her. A cacophony of squawking, cawing and cackling came from the television speakers. "How does the TARDIS ever turn that into a language?"
"She's having a bit of trouble with it sometimes," the Doctor conceded. "When the local language doesn't have a word, or even a concept, for something we say, the TARDIS doesn't have anything to work with." He lowered his hands from the women's temples.
Martha turned and looked at him, eyes soft with wonder. "Amazing. Thank you."
He gave her a warm smile. "Thank you for letting me. For trusting me," he said gently.
Sarah picked up the black rod from the table where the Doctor had set it down to free his hands to de-translate for them. After waving it a variety of ways, which brought up more things that she wouldn't want to see at home and definitely didn't want to see here, it finally clicked off. "Right, well, just because the talking heads are males doesn't mean women don't do the writing here, but I don't see that writing is going to be a much needed skill in a disaster zone, so it's something of a moot point. Let's just ask what's needed and I'll see what best suits me."
"You can always help me out in the medical area," Martha offered. "I'd be glad for the human company." She gave Sarah a warm smile. "And I know you can do infant CPR, so you must have some medical training."
"Just the basics," Sarah said. "But I'd be glad for the human company too. Thanks."
"Right, then, hens. Allons-y!" their Time Lord rooster crowed.
********
Sarah got her wish--the hospital where she and Martha spent the day was, indeed, a mud-free zone. The triage area at the disaster site had been closed and the casualties moved to more hygienic surroundings, much to everyone's relief. Sarah's only regret all day was that she didn't have her notebook and pen with her, because there were so many things she wanted to write down about these people and this moon and world of theirs. And about Martha. She watched the younger woman at work and liked what she saw--a dedicated doctor, open to new ideas, not afraid to ask when she didn't know, and quick to put what she learned to use.
They were, of course, also the focus of all eyes--all big bird eyes--at first.
"How must we look to them," Sarah mused to Martha on one of their breaks. "No feathers." She ruffled her shiny long hair. "No beaks." .
"Well," Martha laughed. "A bit of a beak."
"Just these funny little soft things," Sarah answered. She grasped the tip of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and shook it back and forth to illustrate. "And no claws." She made her fingers into claws, then looked at her nails and frowned at the state they were in. "Don't hold up very well when digging in mud," she finished ruefully.
"And such soft little feet that we have to go about in these to protect them," Martha added, sticking her wellied foot out.
By the end of the first day working with the hens, though, their differences seemed much less and definitely less important. The hens accepted them and were even making a point of befriending them and making sure they felt welcome. Still, it felt good to return to their quarters and the Doctor at the end of a long day.
The three travellers shared their evening meal and compared notes on their respective days. They were all relaxing and sipping a hot fruity after-dinner drink when a trilling noise echoed through the apartment.
Sarah and Martha looked around, puzzled, but the Doctor obviously had sussed out the source. He stretched out a long arm and pushed a button on the wall by the door.
"Yes?" he said to the air.
"Doctor? May I enter?"
"Of course," the Doctor replied, getting up and opening the door.
Rohstan entered, his large eyes scanning the Time Lord up and down. "Does the bed meet your specifications?"
The question obviously took the Doctor by surprise. "Bed?" he asked.
"Yes," Rohstan replied. "The carpenters built and delivered it today."
"Oh," the Doctor said. "Haven't even looked in there since I got back. Have you two?" he asked Sarah and Martha.
They shook their heads, then stood and followed as the Doctor and Rohstan headed toward the sleep room.
When Rohstan switched on the light, they saw that the nest baskets that had been provided for them the night before were gone. In their place was--a bed. Well. Not a bad facsimile of a bed, Sarah thought, for non-bed-using aliens to come up with solely on the basis of the Doctor's description. A wooden frame with fabric stretched over it, and on top, what looked to be a giant version of those incredibly soft pillows that Sarah remembered waking up in the midst of this morning.
"Blimey, it's wonderful. Thank you, Rohstan," the Doctor said, honest admiration in his voice. Rohstan's comb fluttered up and down with pleasure.
Sarah Jane and Martha looked at the bed--the single, big bed that took up nearly all the floor space in the sleep room--and then exchanged glances. There was, after all, only the one bed. Big. Well bigger than a king size bed back home. But still. Only one.
"Togetherness," Sarah said softly.
Martha's lips twisted in a rueful smile. "Not like I haven't shared a bed with him before."
Sarah's eyebrows flew up. "Really?"
Martha nodded, then shook her head in response to Sarah's unasked question. "Nothing happened. Except sleep." Her eyes lost focus as she remembered that awkward night. "And not much of that."
"Well." Sarah thought for second. "I say we make him sleep in the middle." Martha's eyes flicked up to meet hers and Sarah saw relief, surprise and amusement all in them.
"Works for me," Martha agreed.
Then Sarah frowned as another thought occurred to her. "What?" Martha asked in response to her changed expression.
"Nothing," Sarah said, hoping she was right. She sighed when she saw that Martha wasn't buying it. "Just...seems odd they'd go to all this trouble when we'll only be here a few nights. Until they get the TARDIS dug out."
Martha's eyes clouded with worry and Sarah regretted voicing her concern. "He did seem awfully thrilled when he found out the Doctor was a Time Lord," Martha said, glancing over at Rohstan, who was chatting with the Doctor.
Sarah nodded. "Didn't he just."
The Doctor pish-tushed their concerns when they shared them with him after Rohstan wished the Doctor a good night and left. "He's a good man," the Doctor said, flopping down on the bed and letting his long arms fall out to each side. "Just making sure we have what we need to feel comfortable while we're here." He pushed down on the giant pillow with both hands, testing its softness. "And this is definitely comfortable." When they didn't say anything, he frowned. "I'm surprised at you two, seeing something sinister in an act of kindness."
Sarah sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I've just met too many evil scientists travelling with you."
"I've met more than you," the Doctor said. "And I know Rohstan isn't one. Trust me."
"Well."
The Doctor sat up and patted the pillow on both sides of himself, inviting Sarah and Martha to sit. Martha obliged, but Sarah still stood, arms crossed, a concerned look in her eyes.
"Martha, tell her," the Doctor said. "Professor Lazarus. I didn't even have to meet him to know there was something off about him. Remember?"
Martha nodded at Sarah. "He's right. He just saw him on telly and right away knew something was wrong."
"He's the one you told me about that turned into the giant scorpion thing?" Sarah responded. Martha nodded. Sarah paused for a moment, eyes thoughtful, then looked at the Doctor. "Do you think he was always evil?"
She saw the Doctor tilt his head back, his brown eyes searching her face. "Dunno. I would hope not." He shook his head. "I'm not sure I'd even call him evil. Just misguided. Severely misguided," he added in response to Martha's astonished look.
"A good man, maybe, at some point. Gone over to the dark side in pursuit of his research." Sarah was searching the Doctor's face now. "A good man. Until his research took him over, drove him to do something..." She trailed off, letting the others fill in the blanks themselves.
"Sarah," the Doctor said, sounding unhappy. "Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do," she answered sharply.
"Then trust my intuition."
She stared at him. "I do," she said, much more softly. "But you're not Superman, you know," she couldn't help adding with a bit more asperity.
"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor answered, sticking out his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I've been mistaken for Kal more than once."
"Kal?" Martha asked, baffled.
"Kal-El. Superman's real name," Sarah said, a lopsided smile working its way onto her face despite her worries. "He is so winding us up. Superman is not real," she stated decisively. The Doctor just raised one eyebrow provocatively and smiled an enigmatic smile. Sarah laughed reluctantly. "Cause if he is, and you never introduced me, you are in such trouble."
"That's my Sarah Jane," the Doctor said with a relieved smile.
Sarah wasn't quite ready to let it go, though. "You will ask him about the TARDIS again, won't you?"
"I don't need to. He brought it up himself. As we were working together, side by side, all day," he added pointedly.
"What did he say?" Martha asked.
"Well, the mud is hardening as it dries. So it is going to take a bit more time and effort to dig her out. And of course I wouldn't even want them to start until their people are all taken care of. I had to argue that point with him." He gave Sarah a direct look. "He wanted to get started right away."
Maybe he wants a Time Lord and his TARDIS, Sarah thought as she returned the Doctor's gaze. She sighed. Or maybe I am being paranoid, she told herself.
***************
The next day they again helped out with disaster relief, but by the third day, they were thanked and told they could stand down. Rohstan recruited a work party to start digging out the TARDIS, and Sarah began to think that the worst thing they would have to face would be boredom if they had to sit around waiting until the time ship was freed from the mud bank. However, that was not to be.
"How would you two like to be on television?" the Doctor asked them that morning.
Sarah and Martha exchanged glances.
"Strictly Come Dancing?" Martha asked, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows at the Doctor.
"Not for me," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Not much of a dancer." She looked at the Doctor. "X Factor might be a better option."
"Doing what?" Martha asked.
"Oh, I know a certain Time Lord who does a great escape act."
"Sarah." The Doctor chuckled, while Martha looked baffled. "It's been years for me, remember? I'm out of practice. And my props are all on the TARDIS. Besides, I want to work with Rohstan on his research. Told him I would, don't want to let him down. After he's been so kind to us."
"So while you're working with Rohstan, we're getting our fifteen minutes?" Sarah asked.
"Why not?" The Doctor smiled. "The networks are all clamoring to interview you."
Sarah turned to Martha with a frown. "I haven't heard any clamoring. Have you?"
Martha shook her head. "Not a single clamor."
Sarah turned back to the Doctor. "Must be going to our agent." She looked at him pointedly.
"Okay, okay, they can't ask you directly, that would be rude," he said. "They asked me to ask you. Well. They asked me to give permission for you to be interviewed."
"And did you grant it?" Sarah asked, a bit overly sweetly.
"Of course," he said. Then a mischievous glint came into his brown eyes. "I'm proud of my hens!"
Sarah clicked her tongue and shook her head at him. Then she looked at Martha with questioning eyebrows.
"Could be fun," Martha said. "Better being on it than sitting around here watching it all day."
Sarah nodded. "I'm with you there." She turned to the Doctor. "So long as you don't book us on the local version of Jeremy Kyle."
