Chapter Twenty
Two Days Later
Zoe bit into her sandwich and looked around the cafeteria. It was years since she was last in a school canteen, having once qualified for free school meals, but she didn't remember the teachers at Coal Hill having eaten with the students, mingling among them at tables as they ate. On her first day, Ms Henshaw – the headteacher's assistant – had shown her and the Doctor around before their first classes and told them that eating in the cafeteria was strongly encouraged and, since all the meals were free to everyone, the teachers were more often than not happy to sit with their students. Zoe found it strange but did find the food excellent if simplistic, typical for most secondary schools in her experience. With mouthful of beef on rye, the horseradish making her nasal cavities sing, she glanced towards the Doctor who was receiving a plate of chips from Mickey who, judging by the expression on his face, did not appreciate having to serve him.
Sliding into the seat opposite her, greeting the students who were also at the table, his plate piled high with perfectly cooked golden chips and nothing else, he popped a chip into his mouth, steam rising from the perfectly cooked potato.
She raised her eyebrows. "No vegetables?"
"Nah." He shook far too much vinegar and not enough salt onto his chips and picked one up; Rose had turned him into something of a chip aficionado and Zoe watched him chew, a thoughtful look on his face. "They're a bit different."
"Nice different, or weird different?"
"Nice different," he said. "And a little weird different."
Zoe reached across and took one, biting into it. Pleasure made her tastebuds tingle and the crook of her jaw ache in the way that good food always did. She caught the moan before it left her mouth and stole another one. "God, these are amazing. Don't let Rose get her hands on these or she'll never let go."
A smile crinkled his eyes. "Don't eat too many. Mickey swears up and down that there's something wrong with them." He looked over at the students who weren't paying them any attention and leaned closer. "He's trying to get his hands on some of the oil but it's kept under lock and key apparently."
She wiped her fingers on her napkin. "You're joking."
"Wish I was," he said. "But doesn't that scream suspicious to you?"
"Keeping the cooking oil locked away? Yeah, course it does," she said, foot resting against his ankle beneath the table. "Are you thinking perhaps a little midnight escapade into the kitchens? A bit of breaking and entering?"
His smile spread. "It might have crossed my mind."
"Does it have to be tonight?" Zoe asked, annoyed at the possibility of missing out. "I'm having dinner with Harriet but I want to break and enter."
"Bring Harriet along," the Doctor said. "She's a good sport about these things."
"Oh, yeah, that'll look great in the papers the next day if we're caught," she said, spreading her hands in front of her. "Prime Minister Caught Breaking and Entering. The Opposition would have a field day with that."
"You know," he said, conversationally. "I find it a little odd that you're so up to speed with the politics of the day. I'm having this awful sliding doors moment of you being a politician if I hadn't come along."
"I'd make a cracking politician," Zoe said. "I'd be firm but fair and pump a lot of money into the sciences and education – ooo, and the arts! Got to fund the arts. Rose used to do a spot of drama down at the rec centre when it was government funded."
"She mentioned something about a drama class," he mused, chewing on a chip before a thought struck him that made him turn worried eyes in her direction. "Please don't leave me to become a politician."
"No promises," she said with a shrug. "Depends if Harriet offers me a job again tonight."
"I don't think that's – what do you mean again?" He asked, startled. "When did she offer you a job?"
"At Christmas," Zoe said, stealing another chip despite knowing that she shouldn't. "It's not important because I've been thinking, doesn't this place seem a little well-behaved to you?"
His eyes lingered on her, wondering what else she hadn't told him about her Christmas conversation with Harriet, before he glanced around. The students at their table were huddled over an analysis of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, arguing good naturedly about the themes involved; at a table in the corner, a group of students were working on some mathematical problems that Zoe had set for homework just that morning. Nothing seemed hugely out of place to the Doctor, in fact it reminded him of lunches and breaks at the Academy on Gallifrey where he and his friends would come together and try and solve the various academic problems that had been set for them that day, and he told Zoe exactly that.
"Maybe that's right on – back home." She caught herself before anything incriminating fell from her mouth. "But here, this is weird. It's not normal. A bunch of hormone-ridden teenagers in one room just happily sitting and eating? Where are the arguments? The tears? The romantic angst? Rose nearly yanked a chunk of Keisha's hair out once over an argument about a boy – it was this big fight on the playground. But this? It's too clean, too polite. One of them told me they liked my shirt."
The Doctor, glad for an opportunity to openly admire her, took in at her white and blue pinstriped shirt that she had tucked into a pair of suit trousers. "It's a nice shirt."
"Teenage girls should not be complimentary to adult women," Zoe told him. "They should be little shits. God knows I was."
"I don't believe that for a second," he said. "Though I suppose I did think there would be happy slapping hoodies." A spark of amused light filled his eyes. "Happy slapping hoodies with ASBOs. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBOs and ringtones. Huh? Huh?" His foot tapped hers beneath the table. "Oh, yeah. Don't tell me I don't fit in."
"You really don't," she said through a smile. "But that doesn't stop you being adorable."
"You know what," he said. "I'll take it."
Spending the last two days on Earth had been nice. Zoe enjoyed the afternoon spent with her mother going over party plans and checking the guest list one more time while having a healthy argument about the sort of decorations that they should pin up in the recreation centre. Jack wanted large and gaudy items that represented the glamour of Hollywood, something that Jackie was attracted to, while Zoe had argued for a more understated approach, aware that she wasn't going to win the argument when she started. In the end, they compromised for the simple fact that a compromise was easier to set up than the extravaganza Jack and Jackie preferred. Even dinner with just her mother and the Doctor had been fun, the two of them slipping into their easy, light-hearted bickering that no longer took on the sharp edge of before; the Doctor's regeneration had helped put to bed the anger and animosity between them as they found common ground with the love and affection they shared for Rose and Zoe.
Weeks spent in each others company had also helped both of them learn to view the other as a person with both faults and positive attributes, but Zoe still found it strange to come across the two of them discussing the latest book they were reading or going over the most recent happenings in EastEnders, which the Doctor only watched so he could chat with Jackie about it. It was odd but comforting in a warm, domestic way that made her hopeful for the future when she eventually got around to telling Jackie – and everyone else – about the change in her and the Doctor's relationship.
And she knew that she needed to do it sooner rather than later, but she was enjoying the friendly harmony on the TARDIS, aware that the second it became known she and the Doctor were a couple, things would change.
She didn't want anything to change.
At least not for her.
Jack and Mickey on the other hand was something different. Everyone was focused on what was happening between them ever since Rose had sprinted down to the TARDIS after spending a night at Shareen's, red in the face and out of breath, to tell them that Jack had been coming out of Mickey's shower when she went up to fetch them for breakfast the next morning. Neither of them indicated that anything was changed between them but Zoe was almost positive something had. Mickey's behaviour reminded her of the shy, eager way she had behaved around Reinette once she finally accepted that she loved her. If their suspicions were true, then Zoe was thrilled for her friends and wanted only the best for them, though it did add another layer of worry about coming out about her relationship.
Zoe and the Doctor.
Jack and Mickey.
That left Rose the odd one out and Zoe didn't want her to feel like that.
Her phone beeped, pulling her thoughts away from the love lives of her friends. She reached out and stole one final chip from the Doctor's plate before rolling her apple towards him. "I've got to go."
"Lunch isn't over yet," he complained, having hoped to spend the lunch hour with her. He caught the apple before it dropped off the table and shined it against his shoulder. "Where are you rushing off to?"
"I'm helping some kids with their coursework," she said, slipping her suit jacket back on as she stood. "It's strange but not everyone in the class is doing well, only a small handful. It might be worth asking Jack to have a dig around in the student files and find out if there are any commonalities between them."
"You want to text him or shall I?"
"I'll do it," she said, twitching to lean in and give him a kiss before resting her hand on his shoulder instead. "But, since I'm here, I may as well actually see if I can help the kids that are struggling as I'm not sure the teachers in the department care."
The Doctor took hold of her wrist, fingers encircling it lightly. "Have you been able to speak with the any of the others yet?"
"Mr Basset," she said, immediate disdain dripping from her voice, conscious of the students sitting near them, she lowered her voice. "Remember Van Statten?"
He snorted. "Unfortunately."
"Well, Basset is like Van Statten but without the genius intellect and obscene amount of money," she told him. "He's a sexist, misogynistic ass who asked me who I had to fuck to get my degree."
Anger pulsed through him. "He what?"
"He doesn't believe that women have roles outside the home," she said, disparagingly. "And he doesn't seem to understand that people with two X chromosomes can actually know anything about maths." Her fingers gave his shoulder, tense with anger on her behalf, a quick squeeze. "Nothing I can't handle, just a minor annoyance."
"If you're sure," he said, letting the tension fade from him, knowing she was more than capable of handling herself against foolish men. He released her wrist and smiled. "See you later then."
"Stay out of trouble."
"Cross my hearts."
The Doctor watched her leave before he finished off his plate of chips, attempting to analyse them with his tongue, certain that whatever the oil contained wasn't going to harm him. It didn't look as though it was meant to harm, which was curious, and the Doctor hoped Mickey was able to get his hands on some oil – as much as he loved breaking and entering, it would be easier simply to have him collect a sample.
On his way out, he nodded at Mickey and made his way towards the teacher's lounge. He had had more luck making friends with the teachers in his department than Zoe had, pumping them for information about any changes in their students over the last three months; they were all perfectly nice people, if a little boring. Most of their complaints centred around the amount of paperwork they had to do, and the Doctor thought it was a massive waste of resources. On Gallifrey, there had been a specific department at every school that dealt with the administrative side of teaching so all the teachers had to do was fill in a form every now and then and the rest was taken care of. It made no sense to him to have teachers so snowed under with paperwork that they didn't have time to learn how to be better teachers.
Still, despite the inadequacies he found, it was nice to be teaching again. He hadn't taught properly in years. The closest he had come was when Zoe was young and eager to learn about the TARDIS and the fourth dimension, peppering him with questions as she followed him around the console – What does this do? What's that? Why do you use this?. He liked what he had with Zoe now but he did find himself reminiscing on those days with a rush of fondness. Stepping into the teacher's lounge, he was immediately sprinkled with greetings.
"Hey, John."
"Afternoon, John."
"Hi, John."
He smiled around at the room, returning the greetings with a nod and a smile, making a beeline for the kettle. Not willing to enter into the strange mug politics that Zoe had accidentally encountered the previous day, he chose a plain white mug and waited as the kettle boiled, turning over the information they had been able to collect. Rose and Jack's undercover work as parents hadn't raised any concerns – Mr Finch knew what he was talking about, though Rose said that he reminded her of a toad: slimy and difficult to grab – but they both said that there was something slightly off about the whole affair that was difficult to put their finger on. Jackie, in a burst of helpfulness and initiative that took the Doctor by surprise, had taken a stroll past the school when the children left and chatted with the parents at the gates and found that all of them were thrilled with the improvements.
The Doctor wanted to believe that perhaps whichever species had taken root in the school was there simply to improve the lot of the children and provide them with a sterling education, but experience had taught him that altruism was rarely the source of covert actions. His thoughts were torn from the matter when someone bumped into him, the milk slopping from the bottle and missing his mug.
"Oops, sorry," Tim Parsons, one of the biology teachers, apologised, grabbing a tea cloth from the cutlery drawer. "Here let me."
"It's no problem," the Doctor said, leaning back to let him clean the mess up. "Need the milk?"
"Thanks very much," he said, hair curling messily around his eyes, glasses sliding down his nose. "I wish we could have kettles in the classroom. It'd definitely help."
"Should put it in a suggestion box," the Doctor said. "Having a tough day?"
"Tough few months." He rolled his shoulders and blinked, attempting to keep the exhaustion at bay. Eyeing the Doctor curiously, weighing up his trustworthiness, he lowered his voice. "The kids are upping their game, and it's difficult to keep up with them what with all the extra work this bloody Labour government has us doing."
The Doctor wondered if he should ask Zoe to mention the state of the schools and working conditions when she met Harriet for dinner later that day before deciding against it as it felt too much like interference of the minute kind that he generally tried to stay away from – he was more of a big events, sweeping interference type of Time Lord.
"The children are unusually smart," he agreed. "Some of them, at least, which is a bit strange. Both Zoe and I've noticed it."
"Zoe?" Tim asked, momentarily blank. "That's the sub for maths, right?"
"Yeah."
"Smart girl," he said, absently, stirring sugar into his tea. "Heard she went to MIT."
"She did," the Doctor said, pride creeping into his words. "But we like to travel so we just teach for a bit when we're back visiting her mother. She says they're answering questions she struggled with on her final exams and she's the smartest person I know, which is saying something."
"Yesterday," Tim confided, "I had a twelve-year-old girl give me the exact height of the walls of Troy in cubits."
That was odd: the only reason the Doctor knew the answer to that was because he had helped build the wall.
"And it's been ever since the new headteacher arrived?"
"Finch arrived three months ago," Parsons explained. "Then over the next few months, half the staff started getting replaced. Some got jobs, others fell sick, a few were sacked, it's had us all a bit on edge. Especially since he replaced them with that lot –" he nodded at the quiet, sombre looking group in the corner. "Except for the teachers you and Zoe replaced. That was just plain weird, both of them winning the lottery like that."
He scratched the back of his neck. "How's that weird?"
"Maggie never played and she said the ticket was posted through her door at midnight," he said. "Although Rob had a bit of a gambling problem, nothing too serious mind, but he did like a bit of a flutter on the Gee-Gees, you know?"
"Hmm." The Doctor sipped his tea non-committally – Jackie had mentioned that it might not be the best idea as too many questions would be raised, but he dismissed her concerns as he poked the ticket through the door. "Lucky them, I suppose."
Mr Finch entered the room with a woman half-shadowed behind him, disappearing behind the breadth of his chest as he turned.
"Excuse me, colleagues," he called out, attracting their attention, and the Doctor turned away from Tim, searching for a biscuit as he knew there were some custard creams somewhere. "A moment of your time, please. May I introduce Miss Sarah Jane Smith?" Hand halfway into the biscuit tine, the Doctor froze and stared at the wall – no, it can't be, he thought. "Miss Smith is a journalist who's writing a profile about me for the Sunday Times. I thought it might be useful for her to get a view from the trenches, so to speak. Don't spare my blushes."
As Finch's words faded out, the Doctor turned.
The air was punched from his lungs.
Standing next to Mr Finch, dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket, natural sunlight falling across her, was Sarah Jane.
Automatically raising a hand to catch her attention before he remembered the centuries that stood between them. He forced his hand into his pocket, hearts thundering painfully in his chest, and panic started to sink into him. He wasn't ready for this. He needed time to prepare, to think of something to say, but as he stared at her and took in what the passage of time had done to her – still beautiful – his mind turned blank. The last time he had seen her was centuries ago when he had been summoned back to Gallifrey, not wanting to go and not wanting to say goodbye to her, their stupid argument ringing in his ears as he listened to the message from home. He couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about that time, something silly and nonsensical knowing them, but he remembered the look on her face when he told her he was taking her home: that soft, shattered look of heartbreak that had made him want to weep.
His last image of her was her dressed in her pink and red stripped jumpsuit, the one he had joked made her look like a candy cane, with her suitcase in hand and her odd stuffed monkey clutched to her chest as she tried not to cry.
He wondered if she had cried later as he had done, weeping bitter tears of regret over the console as the TARDIS idled in the Time Vortex, delaying his return home. The tears had dried tracks on his face by the time he reached Gallifrey, already sealing his time with Sarah Jane into a box to try and contain the hurt. Looking at her now, he saw the girl she had been with the woman that she had become, the two overlaid on top of each other until they settled. Her rich brown hair was styled the same but there were threads of grey lacing their way through it, catching the sunlight and making her look as though she had strands of beautiful silver threaded through; there were a few new wrinkles and her skin had lost some of elasticity but she was still Sarah Jane Smith: brilliant and devastatingly beautiful.
He couldn't breathe. Light-headed and dizzy as she glanced around the room and caught sight of him; panic flared like a supernova, tempered only by the belated realisation that she wouldn't recognise him, and he was trying to calm himself down when she approached him.
"Hello," Sarah Jane said.
I miss you, the Doctor thought.
"Oh, I should think so," he said, babbling, secondary bypass kicking in and oxygen flooded back into his body but not before he sounded like an idiot. "That is, it's a lovely day – nice – good day for educating young minds and things like that – which is really...what I mean to say – hello."
Next to him, Tim stared in bewilderment at the word soup that spilled from his mouth before he picked up his mug and went somewhere the Doctor wasn't, which, the Doctor considered, he wished he was able to do.
A small frown rippled across Sarah Jane's forehead before her polite look of interest returned, eyes broadcasting her thoughts on his intelligence. "And you are?"
"Oh – er –" his mind remained stubbornly unhelpful and he couldn't remember his human name for one long, shivering second before it slammed into him. "Smith, John Smith."
"John Smith," Sarah Jane repeated, a faint smile creeping in around the lines of her eyes and his blood rushed through his ears like a tidal wave, threatening to deafen him, because Sarah Jane Smith was in front of him and he wanted to reach out and touch her, feel the warmth of her skin and the solidity of her body under his palm, reassuring himself that she wasn't a dream. "I used to have a friend who sometimes went by that name."
His hearts leapt in delight.
"Well, it's a very common name," he said, words spilling out of him without his permission.
"He was a very uncommon man," she said, and his smile stretched across his face. "It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," he said, eagerly. "Yes, very nice. More than nice. Brilliant, in fact. Fantastic some might say. Not me though, at least not any more. Not that it's not fantastic to meet you, it's just – hello."
She stared at him, the certainty she was talking to a mad man settling into her marrow, but she was too much of a professional to let it distract her. "So, have you worked here long?"
"No, no." He shook his head. "It's only my second day. I'm a substitute."
"Oh, you're new then," Sarah Jane said, her interest in him rocketing. She stepped a little closer and he caught notes of bergamot and citrus, the familiar fragrance sending him tumbling into his memories of when he had bought the perfume for her on a lazy trip to Italy one quiet afternoon. "So, what do you think of the school? I mean, this new curriculum? So many children suddenly getting top marks after barely scrapping by? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
The delight that spread through the Doctor at the realisation she was investigating just as he was made his vision blur. "You don't sound like someone just doing a profile."
"Well, no harm in a little investigation while I'm here," she said, a gleam in her eyes that he recognised, unable to do anything but remember the first time they met when she had walked onto the UNIT base with false credentials and a thirst to prove herself.
"No," he agreed. "Absolutely not. Good for you."
She seemed almost amused by him, a small hesitance pulling at her as she looked at him, before she fell back and excused herself. The Doctor wanted to curl his fingers around her elbow and pull her into his arms, press his face into her hair, and just hold her for as long as he could – I love you, I'm sorry, forgive me. Instead, he watched as she effortlessly slipped into a group of teachers and introduced herself, gently prying information from them with a touch so delicate that no one realised she was asking questions she shouldn't.
"Sarah Jane," he murmured, emotion clogging his throat. "Look at you."
Later that evening
Zoe sat at the table in the restaurant that was as fancy as she hoped waiting for Harriet to arrive, sipping her glass of wine as she let her mind wander. A little tired from her day of teaching, she was grateful to have a few minute to herself. Years had passed since she last taught for any continuous amount of time and it was taking her a little longer than she liked to get back into the swing of it. The children were much less taxing than those she remembered from France – her grubby, dirty child with rotten teeth and lice-ridden clothes whom she adored and had taught to read and write and do their numbers. It was equally satisfying though, something which surprised her, but, during her lunchtime tuition, she had felt that same surge of delight and triumph when it clicked for her students, the light of understanding flooding into their faces and how proud and delighted they looked.
Teaching wasn't a profession that crossed her mind when she was younger and contemplating her future. She always intended to enter a well-paid profession so that she was able to look after Jackie and Rose – her biggest goal, one that she kept close to her chest, was to earn enough money to buy her mother a house somewhere nice and give her the security that she deserved. Now that she was older and had more life experience tucked away inside of her, she realised that even if Jackie won the lottery tomorrow, she wouldn't want to leave the estate as it was her home.
When the time came for her to leave the Doctor, she thought that teaching might be for her. There were plenty of schools in London that needed patient, educated teachers for whom the job was a vocation, and Zoe felt it was a career where she could truly make a difference and be proud of herself at the same time. The idea of being the type of teacher that students remembered fondly decades later was something that struck her as a worthwhile use of her time, even if the thought of leaving the Doctor did make her stomach churn and her heart clench.
"Oh, dear, that's a serious look," Harriet said as she approached the table exactly on time. Zoe wiped the look from her face and rose to her feet, smiling. "Nothing serious, I hope."
"Just the way my face falls unfortunately," she joked, hugging her friend in greeting. "Hello. Long time no see."
"For you, maybe, I saw you a month ago." Harriet smiled, beautiful in a rich green dress, her hair pinned back in her usual style. "How long has it been this time?"
"Since Christmas?" She did the maths quickly. "Just over two months."
"An improvement on last time," Harriet said as they took their seats. While Zoe poured her a glass of wine, a man having dinner with his wife looking over at them in interest. "You look lovely by the way. That dress is gorgeous, I can see why you wanted an opportunity to wear it."
Zoe beamed. "Thanks. It rendered both the Doctor and Jack speechless, which is actually really hard to do with Jack. He doesn't gape a lot."
"And the Doctor does?"
"On occasion," she said with a slow smile, gently tapping her glass against Harriet's. "Cheers."
"Cheers." Harriet sighed after her first sip of wine, shoulders easing back. "Oh, that's better. I've been looking forward to this all day."
"Bit of a nightmare?"
"Not the best day I've had since becoming PM," she admitted, rubbing briefly at the bridge of her nose. "But you don't want to hear me complain about work."
"No, I do, complain away," Zoe urged, eager for the gossip. "What happened? Was it the American ambassador?"
Harriet laughed. "No, he was actually pleasant for a change, it's the American president that's causing problems. He thinks he should be taking lead on drafting planetary procedure for contact with extraterrestrials and resents that I'm the one invited to all of the meetings, but he's not the reason I've had a trying day." She took a fortifying sip of wine, her body bearing the lingering marks of the humiliation that had been delivered on her earlier. "I was thoroughly torn apart at PMQs today."
She was gratified by the surprise that settled on Zoe's face. "You did? How? The leader of the Opposition is a wet fish."
"There's a new one," she explained. "Very tough, very intelligent, very quick on his feet. I wasn't expecting it."
The conversation paused briefly for them to order their food before Zoe settled back and listened to Harriet's recounting of the political difficulties she had faced since Christmas – in-party fighting, an Opposition rapidly uniting under a new leader only a week old, international relations difficulties with big personalities and bigger egos. Often Zoe thought that her life was more interesting for the way she lived it with the Doctor but listening to Harriet reminded her that life on Earth was as equally fascinating. It wasn't something Zoe thought she would have the patience to do, and she admired her friend who did it and seemed to relish the times she got to argue her point and garner agreement for her policies.
"But enough about me," Harriet said, cutting into her duck at the end of her retelling of how the Latvian prime minster cornered her coming out of the bathroom to argue about visa restrictions on Latvians trying to enter the UK. "I'm more interested in you. How was your graduation?"
Zoe smiled. "Wonderful. Perfect weather, everyone was there, the only downside was the massive robot that tried to squash us beneath it's feet."
"I'm sorry?"
"One of my classmates lost control of a giant robot," she said with a small shrug. "Bit of a shock when it emerged from the earth and started stomping about the place. It took a while to get it under control but the Doctor managed. I was furious at the idiot that did it because a few years ago he didn't contain some bio-products properly and it was an unpleasant time until the CDC were able to clean it up." Harriet stared at her. "Aside from that though, it was a really nice day, and I am now, officially, a graduate of MIT, albeit in the 31st century."
"It still counts," Harriet decided, lifting her wine glass, pride warming her. "To you, my dear."
"To me," she agreed.
"And your travel since then has been peaceful?" She asked. "Although, considering what you said on the phone..."
"It's been more or less peaceful," Zoe assured her. "About normal for us actually – most days are good, some are a little chaotic. The only really dark bit of the travel was the slave ship we came across." She pushed her asparagus on the plate, appetite briefly lost. "We caught a distress signal, which is actually kind of rare if you think about how we travel, so when we pick them up we go after them. We thought it was just a typical ship in distress at first but a bit of investigation showed us that the crew were transporting slaves to another planet. It was – it was really ugly. Put the Doctor in a foul mood for days. None of us felt right after it."
Shock showed on Harriet's face. "Was this in the future?"
"Not our future," she said, "but the future, yes. It took place in the Grifari Empire sometime in the 40th century, I think – I can't remember the exact year. It was at a time when they hadn't made contact with humans."
"When I think of you out there, travelling," Harriet said, turning the new information over in her mind. "I must admit that I imagine more enjoyable scenarios – beaches and markets and odd but wonderful locations – not slavery."
"The universe is a big place, not all of it good," she said, chewing on her asparagus. "But there's a lot of really fun stuff too. Not too long ago we went to Drana for a picnic – it's this place with purple oceans and lovely seafood. Normally quite peaceful but Jack accidentally disturbed a nest of water nymphs and we had to get out of there pretty quickly: very territorial and anti-man. I think Jack took it personally."
Harriet shook her head, mouth soft with laughter. "The things that come out of your mouth. But what was it you said the other day? Something about Queen Victoria?"
"I'm glad you brought that up because I wasn't sure how to," Zoe said, setting her knife and fork down, wondering how to say what she wanted to. It was important to her not to ruin her friendship with Harriet, but it was also important that she receive reassurance. "So, we ended up in Scotland in 1879 where we came across Queen Victoria on the road while she was transporting the Koh-I-Noor to be recut. The usual nonsense happened and we ended up going along with her to a house that was called Torchwood."
Harriet slowly lowered her fork. "Torchwood?"
"The Torchwood Estate," she said. "Owned by Sir Robert MacLeish who died that same night." She drummed her fingers on the table. "I mentioned our conversation about Torchwood to the others – the Doctor's heard of it only once from our old friend Margaret Blaine, but Jack's heard of it too, which is weird when you remember he's from the 51st century. He says that it's a huge research institute that funds a lot of the more unusual projects that don't get funding. Apparently, it was founded by Queen Victoria, so I imagine we accidentally had something to do with its creation."
"Zoe." A cold, unpleasant suspicious dripped through Harriet's mind. "Was this the reason for you asking me to dinner? To question me about Torchwood?"
She shook her head, passing a hand over her mouth.
"Of course it wasn't. You're my friend and I wanted to see you again." Harriet nodded, eyes still wary. "But it won't surprise you that I've been thinking about what happened at Christmas a lot – or what nearly happened. Torchwood, what it is and what it does, really worries me, and I don't think it's a coincidence that we ended up in 1879. Sometimes, the TARDIS takes us places that we need to go and she took us there. I don't know why, but we ended up there on a night that a werewolf was meant to kill Victoria."
"A werewolf?"
"There's an official alien name but I don't remember it, something about waves and lupin forms or something, no clue. Basically, it was a werewolf with very sharp claws." A small shiver rolled through her at the memory of pain ripping across her back. "But I'm not trying to start an argument. You have your reasons for trusting Torchwood, and I'm woman enough to admit that I don't like them simply because of that conversation about the weapon they were preparing, it's definitely turned me against them, but I like you. I trust you. So, I'm going to ask you a question and I'd like you to be honest so I can put this to rest."
Harriet set her knife and fork down. "Ask me your question."
"Is Torchwood dangerous to me, my friends, or the Doctor?"
Harriet breathed out, relieved it was a question she could answer. "It's not dangerous to you or to anyone. I promise you, Torchwood isn't a threat. It's just an organisation to protect Britain. It's nothing like what you're imagining."
Tension eased from her as the weight that had settled on her shoulders at Christmas lifted, her trust in Harriet absolute. "Thank you. You've no idea how much this has been bothering me."
"My dear girl," Harriet said, eyes crinkling in fond amusement. "You shouldn't worry so much."
Her smile was crooked and self-aware. "If I knew how to stop worrying, I'd have done it a long time ago. The Doctor and Jack get into so much trouble that I'm surprised I don't have an ulcer. The only reason Rose doesn't drive me insane is because I'm immune to her troublemaking abilities."
Harriet laughed and picked up her cutlery again. "How are they, the others?"
"Oh, you'll like this," Zoe said, easily switching topics, pleased to sweep Torchwood from her mind. "I think Mickey and Jack are together."
"Really?" Delighted surprise flashed across Harriet's face. "When did that happen?"
"The night before last, I think," she said. "Something definitely happened but they haven't said anything yet but the way they're acting with each other, I'm pretty sure Micks is going to come along with us."
By the time dessert had arrived, they had covered a lot of topics – Harriet's UN speech the week before, Zoe's time in Jamaica, the renovations on Number 10, the new flowers Zoe had planted in her garden, Harriet's nieces who she worried were directionless, and Zoe's concerns over Jackie being left behind alone. They were laughing over a story Zoe recounted of Mr Basset's sexism from the school when a shadow fell over their table. Expecting the waiter, Zoe looked up and found herself looking into the face of a man she didn't recognise, a beautiful blonde woman at his side.
"Prime Minister, do forgive the interruption." Assuming that such interruptions happened all the time for Harriet, Zoe leaned back in her chair to give space for the conversation. "I just thought I'd come over and say I hope there are no hard feelings for today."
"None at all," Harriet said with a smile that tightened imperceptibly around her eyes. "You were only doing your job. I do appreciate thoroughness in the Opposition."
"And I'm happy to provide it," he said with an incline of his head. "I don't believe you've met my wife Lucy."
Lucy's blonde hair shimmered when she nodded her head, a small smile on her red lips, hand tucked into her husband's arm. "Prime Minister."
"Hello," Harriet said pleasantly before looking to Zoe. "This is a dear friend of mine, Zoe Tyler."
"Hi there," she smiled, leaning forwards and extending her hand. "Member of the Tories, are you?"
His dark eyes looked at her, interest sparking in their depths, his hand taking hers, slightly cool to the touch. "Leader of the Opposition, a new appointment."
"So I hear," she said, unable to tear her eyes away from him – he wasn't as handsome as Jack was but he reminded her of the Doctor a little with his dark eyes and dark brown hair. "Congratulations on the appointment. Although, I'm not sure I should congratulate you considering I'm a Labour voter."
"Well," he said, genially, "we all have our flaws."
She laughed. "And what are your flaws, Mr –?"
"Saxon," he said. "Harold Saxon, but please, call me Harry."
"Harry," she repeated, his name filling her mouth pleasantly. "I imagine a politician such as yourself must have a defect here or there, or would you consider your greatest flaw to be your association with the Conservative Party?"
When he laughed, she felt a rush of heat shoot through her, startling her. It was strange to feel the pulse of attraction for someone who wasn't the Doctor yet it surged through her, physical and visceral, her hand still within his.
"I don't consider that a flaw, Ms Tyler."
"I suppose you wouldn't," she agreed. "And it's Zoe, please."
"Zoe." Her name was warm and honeyed on his tongue. "If I must confess to a flaw, then I suppose my desire for power must be it. After all, is it not said that those who seek power and inherently unsuited for it?"
"A sentiment I agree with, to be sure," Zoe said. "However, it depends on what you want the power for that I think determines if there's a lack of character to be found. Tell me, Harry, do you want to do good and change the world for the better, or do you simply want power for power's sake?"
"Changing the world seems like a fine goal indeed," Harry replied, eyes sliding to Harriet who was attending to the conversation with sharp interest even as Lucy looked away, bored. "And our friend here has begun that arduous task already."
"And is doing a fine job of it," Zoe said with a smile. "Though I'm sure you disagree with the manner in which she's doing it."
"Such is my job as the Leader of Her Majesty's Opposition," he said, leaning in so that she was able to catch the subtle whiff of cologne. "And I do take my work seriously."
"An attractive quality in a man," she conceded. "So long as it doesn't tip over into workaholism."
"Fortunately, I have my beloved wife to stop me from losing myself too deeply in my work," Harry replied, smiling at Lucy whose face lit up under his regard. "And I'm afraid I promised her an evening without any work talk and, here I am, breaking that promise. Do you forgive me, darling?"
"Always," Lucy replied, fingers lightly touching his chest.
He turned his smile onto Zoe and Harriet. "My apologies again, Prime Minister, for the interruption. And it was lovely to meet you, Zoe. I'm sure we'll see each other again at some point."
"I'll look forward to it," she said, drawing her hand back at last, eyes following Harry and Lucy as they left the restaurant to reclaim their coats. She turned her eyes onto Harriet and exhaled. "That man is incredibly attractive."
"Oh, really." Harriet tossed her napkin onto her plate. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have your head turned by him."
Zoe laughed. "I have eyes, don't I? And he has magnetism, Harriet. It falls off him in waves. God, no wonder he steamrolled you today. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle a debate with him under PMQs' conditions."
"You seemed to be holding your own," she replied. "Although, I think you were just flirting."
"I was not!" Harriet laughed and signalled to the waiter for their bill. "Harriet Jones, you take that back."
As Zoe slipped her card under Harriet's to pay while her friend was distracted by the way her dress was caught on her chair, she cast a quick glance over her phone to make sure that everything was okay with her friends. She knew that they were breaking into Deffry Vale and hoped that she wouldn't need to bail them out of the local police station. There were only two messages waiting for her, both from Jack.
on the tube now. jackie's brought a Thermos and jaffa cakes. i love your mum.
…
say hi to Harriet for me.
Having freed herself from her chair, Harriet stood by the table, leaving the tip since she wasn't paying. "Something the matter?"
"Just an update on things," she said, dashing off a quick reply to Jack to get their location. "Jack says hello, by the way."
"What is it they're doing tonight?" They left their table and made their way to the attendant's station for their coats. "You didn't say."
"Best if we keep it that way," Zoe said, arms sliding back into her coat. "Plausible deniability and all that."
Harriet looked pained. "Is it something illegal?"
"Again, I'd prefer not to say."
She sighed. "Fine, but please don't blow up any more buildings. Do you know how difficult it is to release funding for new infrastructure?"
"I'm going to assume very."
"You'd be correct."
"I solemnly swear I'll do my very best not to blow anything up," Zoe said, raising her hand in a mockery of the scout's promise before she found herself in Harriet's arms. She hugged her back enthusiastically. "Thanks for tonight. It was great seeing you again."
"You too, my dear," Harriet said, kissing her cheek. "Do stay in touch. I enjoy receiving those messages of yours, particularly the strange pictures."
"Then they'll keep coming," she smiled. "And don't let Harry Saxon get you down. He might be charming and handsome with a silver tongue but you know as well as I do that Opposition leaders are ephemeral, you're the one who's here to stay."
"I hope so," Harriet said, looking around the busy street. "It's not something I ever wanted but now that I'm here, I want to do well."
"And you're doing it," Zoe assured her, squeezing her hands. "Just keep doing what you're doing and people like Harry won't be around for long. Man like him? He'll probably end up on the lecture circuit or as some big CEO-type who has inappropriate affairs with his secretaries and golfs every Thursday."
Harriet laughed. "There's an idea. Stay safe out there."
"Stay safe down here," Zoe said, seeing her into the car waiting for her. She grinned through the crack in the door. "Prime Minister."
Earlier the same evening
"You're in an odd mood."
The Doctor twisted to look at Jackie who had abandoned her seat on the tube and risen to stand next to him, fingers curled around the sticky support pole. With nothing better to do that evening, she had decided to accompany them on their late evening trip to break into the school to get the oil that Mickey hadn't been able to take a sample of, and to have a deeper look around with no one looking over their shoulders. He had long since given up on complaining about Jackie accompanying them as she was actually useful to have around – her work yesterday on asking parents at the school gates about their thoughts had been inspired and since the team was one person down with Zoe having dinner with Harriet, the Doctor had acquiesced. He should have figured that Jackie would pick up on his mood though. She was more closely attuned to his temperament as she kept a close eye on him, wondering whether he was keeping her daughters safe and if he had crossed a line with Zoe.
He wasn't looking forward to that conversation when it eventually came about.
"Am I?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't play stupid, it doesn't suit you."
"That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me," he told her, earning a roll of her eyes, Rose and Mickey's laughter filling the air at something Jack was telling them as he tapped a message out on his phone. "Sometimes, Jackie, I think you and I are friends."
"We are," she said with such firmness that he blinked. "An' don't change the subject. What's got your knickers in a twist?"
His face grimaced. "That's an awful expression. Where did that even –?"
"Doctor."
He sighed. "I'm fine."
"You're not," she said. "An' I don't think it's because Zoe's off havin' dinner with Harriet."
"You know," the Doctor said, an air of grievance around him. "I can function perfectly well without Zoe around."
Her eyes flickered over him. "I know, you just don't want to."
"Can you stop knowing me quite so well, please? It's annoying." A grin that made her look like Rose flashed across her face, and his shoulders slumped a little. "I'm just – I saw someone today, someone I haven't seen in a really long time. She didn't know it was me because of, you know –" he gestured at his face. "It's made me feel a little strange."
Jackie nodded slowly, and he had forgotten what a good sympathetic ear she was. "An ex?"
"No," he said, quickly, skin heating. "Well – not really, kind of. She and I – we never – it was different back then but, the thing is –"
"Lord spare me." Jackie's eyes turned towards the map of the underground that was peeling from the side of the carriage, seeking strength from a god he was fairly certain she didn't believe in. "So, you saw this mate of yours an' what? Got hit with an uncomfortable feelin' since you haven't seen her in God knows how long?"
He shifted, uncomfortable with how close to the truth she had struck. "Something like that, yeah."
"An' you think you're goin' to see her again?"
"Knowing her, I'd be surprised if I didn't," he said, uncomfortably. "Thing is, Jackie, I travel with people – I always have. I didn't mean to, not at first, but Susan – you remember Susan, right?"
"Your granddaughter," she said. "I remember."
"Well, she liked humans a lot and two of her teachers ended up coming along for the ride and even after Susan left, I sort of kept inviting people to travel with me because it's fun and I like the company," the Doctor admitted. "Sarah Jane – that's her name – she was one of them. We travelled together for a long time, longer than normal, but I had to go home and she couldn't come with me so I left her in Croydon and never saw her again."
Jackie stared at him. "You didn't go back? Not once?"
"You live as long as I do," he said, heavily, "going back isn't really an option."
The look on her face told him that there was a lot she wanted to say about that but, for a change, she kept her opinions to herself. Despite what he had told her, he wanted Zoe there if only to soothe his nerves. He hadn't had a chance to tell her about meeting Sarah Jane again as the journey back to Peckham had been awful – cramped tube cars, someone's elbow in the small of his back, and Zoe nearly breaking a man's wrist for touching her inappropriately that required them to get off a stop earlier than intended. He was going to tell her when she was getting ready for dinner with Harriet but she had put on a distractingly wonderful red dress and every other thought except peeling her out of it fled his mind. He intended to tell her when he next saw her – be that later tonight or in the morning, depending how late her evening with Harriet went – but he found himself desperately wanting her advice.
"D'you even want to see her again?" Jackie asked, body swaying as the tube rattled on the tracks.
"Yes," he said, emphatically. "No. I don't know. I've missed her, course I have, I miss all of them, it's just rare that I see them again, and it's always a little awkward – we both will've changed and it won't be the same."
"Course it won't," she said. "Nothin's ever the same, but you an' Zoe picked up, didn't you? After France? Then after that station thing in the future?"
"Game Station," he corrected. "And yeah, we did. I suppose."
"Look," Jackie said finally as they neared their stop. "If the two of you were such great mates then she'll be happy to see you too. Yeah, it'll probably be awkward but once you get past that, maybe it'll be great."
Hope flared to life inside the Doctor. "You think?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe. It's a possibility, right?"
"Yeah." A small, hopeful smile started to pull at his mouth. "Yeah, it's a possibility. Thanks, Jackie."
She shook her head fondly, muttering about daft aliens as they exited the tube and left North Ealing Station.
It was a cold, cloudless night and they were wrapped up in coats as they made their way down the quiet residential street and turned into the school compound. A chain was looped across the front gate but Jack had the lock picked before the Doctor had even twitched his fingers at his screwdriver, grinning up at Mickey from his knees. The smell of tea hit the Doctor's nostrils and he looked around to find Jackie sipping from the cup of a Thermos, and he paused.
"You brought a Thermos?"
"It's cold an' I fancied a cuppa," she said. "Want one?"
"No, thanks."
The Doctor wondered if Jackie was ever going to stop surprising him, but he doubted it when he considered that Rose and Zoe constantly surprised him despite all the time they spent together.
"It's weird seeing school at night," Rose said once they were inside, pitching her voice low. "It just feels wrong. When I was a kid, I used to think all the teachers slept in school."
Jackie glanced at her. "You did?"
"I used to think there were bedrooms where they slept until I asked a teacher at primary school an' they put me straight," she explained. "Didn't realise they were actual people, y'know."
Jack grinned at her, teeth white in the darkness. "That's really cute."
"All right, team," the Doctor said, drawing their attention to him before grimacing, stretching his mouth. "Oh, I hate people who say team. Er – gang? No. Comrades? Definitely not."
"Focus," Mickey said.
"Right, yeah." He shook the words from his head. "Jackie, Rose, go to the classroom where they hold the extra lessons – computer lab three. See if there's anything strange there. They wouldn't let Zoe or me close earlier."
Rose nodded and looked at her mother who screwed the lid back on her Thermos. "Sure."
"Jack, Mickey, the new staff are mainly all maths teachers," the Doctor reminded them. "Go and check out their department. Zoe says there's nothing strange there but she also hasn't had a chance to look around properly. While you're doing that, I'm going to look in Finch's office. Everyone, be back here in thirty minutes."
"C'mon, Mum," Rose said, trying to remember the way to the computer lab as Mickey and Jack headed towards the mathematics department. "I think it's this way."
The Doctor listened to the sounds of their footsteps fade as they walked off to fulfil their tasks before he started to make his way to Finch's office, wondering if Zoe would mind if he called her. His hand was in his pocket, searching for his phone, when he paused in the middle of the hallway, moonlight poking through the small window slats on the door, casting a small shadow behind him.
Against the back of his mind, the TARDIS gave him a small poke, pressing a little harder than normal as she passed along a warning. There was no danger to her as he had left her tucked away in a gym supply closet that morning, but she was alerting him to the fact that something was happening needed his attention. Releasing his phone, he turned on his heels and rerouted himself, hurrying towards where she was parked. It wasn't often that she nudged him like that as she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and so worry started to climb up his chest before he caught sight of a flick of rich brown hair as it disappeared around a corner.
Sarah Jane.
He slowed down before drawing to a stop, listening as she opened the storeroom door and slipped inside, nerves crawling over him. Maybe Jackie was wrong, maybe too much time had gone by for her to be happy to see her again. He wanted to see her, to speak to her, to find out what her life had been like since they had last seen each other, and he desperately wanted to introduce her to Zoe who would be thrilled to meet her – the thought of Zoe meeting Sarah Jane was one that excited him, eager to see Zoe's face when she realised who she was being introduced to. Yet, he was also hesitant because so much had happened to him that he didn't know how to explain it to her.
The door opened under a jerk, and Sarah Jane stumbled out, panicked and partially frozen from the shock of seeing the TARDIS again. He could hear her broken, heavy breathing before she turned.
The Doctor breathed out.
"Hello, Sarah Jane."
"It's you," she whispered, tears making her eyes glisten in the moonlight that filtered through the sky light. "Oh, Doctor. It's you, isn't it?" Her eyes flicked over him as she took a few steps towards him only to pause. "You've regenerated."
"Half a dozen times since we last met," he said, drinking in the changes, eyes moving rapidly over her.
She swallowed hard, shaking. "You look incredible."
"So do you."
She gave a wet, dismissive laugh.
"I got old," Sarah Jane said, and his hearts ached for her because while she was still so very beautiful, she was older than she had been and a painful reminder of the fleeting existence of humans. "What are you even doing here?"
"Well, UFO sighting, school gets record results," the Doctor said with a small smile, awkwardly keeping his distance. "I couldn't resist. What about you?"
"The same." They shared a brief moment of amusement before she spoke again, her voice thick with emotion: grief and an undercurrent of anger. "I thought you'd died. I waited for you and you didn't come back and I thought you must have died."
Guilt pressed in against him, suffocating him under its weight, and he looked down at his feet.
"Not me," he said, quietly. "I lived. It was everyone else who died."
Her soft, rapid breaths filled the air. "What do you mean?"
"Everyone died, Sarah." He looked up, ageless in his grief. "There was a war – I'm the only Time Lord left now. Gallifrey's gone. It burnt."
Horror sank into her face. "The Daleks?"
"The Daleks," he confirmed.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, lifting a hand to brush away her tears. She took a step towards him, hand stretched out to touch him. "Doctor...is it really you? Am I –? Is this really happening?"
Gathering his courage to him, the Doctor lifted his hand from her side and curled his fingers around hers. She shuddered at his touch and they moved at the same time, coming together in the middle of the room, arms embracing each other. She shuddered against his chest, soft, choked sobs pressing into his jacket, and the Doctor's throat was tight and thick, his face pressing into her hair as his arms tightened around her. She felt just as he remembered – strong, soft, and alive.
"I can't believe it's you," she breathed, face shiny with tears that he brushed lightly with his thumb before they both flinched when a loud, piercing scream ripped through the silence. His hand froze on her face, her eyes wide. "Okay. Now I believe it!"
A stunned laugh slipped from his throat, their hands automatically twining together as they took off running, the doors to the gym swinging shut behind them, rattling on their hinges. Exhilaration pounded through him at running with her again, the rhythm they once had falling back into place as though no time had passed, though his free hand kept searching for the ends of a long scarf, trying to gather it up so he didn't trip and fall as he had on Alcar when they were running from angry natives who thought Sarah Jane was their goddess and didn't appreciate the Doctor taking off with her. As one, they skidded around a corner and nearly slammed into Jackie and Rose who appeared from around the corner, chasing after the scream as they were; though, judging by the look on Jackie's face, she was being dragged more than she was running.
"Did you hear that?" Rose asked, breathlessly, as the Doctor released Sarah Jane's hand to catch Jackie before she went head first through a glass window, her feet pin-wheeling beneath her, hands clutching at him. "Who's she?"
He set Jackie back on her feet. "Rose, Jackie, Sarah Jane Smith; Sarah, Rose and Jackie Tyler."
"Hello, love," Jackie said, tugging her jumper down. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Sarah Jane said, politely, eyes moving back and forth between Rose and Jackie in confusion. "Are you two related?"
She jerked a thumb at a silent, confused Rose. "My eldest."
Sarah Jane's eyebrows soared up her forehead. "Haven't you changed? Travelling with people's mothers now, are we?"
"No, no, no, no, no." The Doctor shook his head urgently, gesturing between him and Jackie. "We don't travel together. She just – every now and then – comes along for a ride. Sometimes. Not often. Right, Jackie? Not often at all?"
She swept her hair from her eyes. "I only come along to make sure I get to see my daughters. They're infatuated with this idiot, y'see."
"Daughters?" Sarah Jane repeated, eyes lingering on the smooth stretch of Rose's unblemished skin, her youth evident in every movement. She rapped the back of her hand against the Doctor's stomach. "You can tell you're getting older, your assistants are getting younger."
Rose blinked, unsure if she was being insulted. "I'm not his assistant."
"No?" She replied, bumping the Doctor with her shoulder as she walked forward, heart thundering in her chest and a sick feeling settling in her stomach. "Get you, tiger."
"No, that's not –" he tried but she was already around a corner. He met Jackie's eyes and studiously avoided Rose's. "Never mind. Come on, you two."
He ignored both them and their questioning looks as they hurried towards the source of the scream. Heat inched through him, making him feel clammy, as his nerves at his past and present colliding reached a crescendo in his chest. Of all the times for Zoe to take the night off, it had to be tonight; he resisted the urge to check his phone, having promised her that the night was hers as she had been looking forward to catching up with Harriet for the past two days. At least there was Jack to smooth away any rocky patches that might crop up, desperate again for Zoe.
Sarah Jane reached the classroom first, pushing the door open and sweeping inside, ready to deal with whatever was there. He hurried in after her, Jackie and Rose on his heels, and found small plastic bags littered across the floor with Mickey in the centre of them and Jack leaning against a wall, hand clamped to his stomach, laughing so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks and no sound emerged from his throat. Realising that neither of them were in any danger, the Doctor relaxed.
"Sorry, sorry, it was only me," Mickey apologised, embarrassed and a little annoyed at Jack's mirth. "You told us to investigate so I started lookin' through some of these cupboards an' all of these fell on me."
"Oh my god," Rose said, carefully stepping around the items splayed across the floor. "They're rats. Dozens of rats. Vacuum packed rats."
The Doctor looked at Mickey. "And you decided to scream."
Jack started laughing again.
"It took me by surprise!"
"Like a little girl?"
The darkness covered the flush of embarrassment that rose to his cheeks. "It was dark! I was covered in rats!"
"Nine, maybe ten years old," the Doctor said. "I'm seeing pigtails, frilly skirt."
"Mickey," Jack said through his laughter, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry, that was just really funny. I didn't know people could scream like that."
He rubbed his hands over his face, reluctantly amused. "I hate you."
"Hello, can we focus?" Rose asked, annoyed; Jackie kicked one of the packaged rats away from her with the toe of her boot, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Does anyone notice anythin' strange about this? Rats in school?"
"Well, obviously they use them in biology lessons," Sarah Jane said, words turning sharp and jagged. When it was clear he wasn't coming back for her, she had assumed the Doctor travelled with other people but to be faced with her replacement who was young and beautiful hurt. He'll leave you too, she thought, bitterly, and you'll spend your life wondering what you should have done differently. "They dissect them, or maybe you haven't reached that bit yet. How old are you?"
Jack finally stopped laughing. He and Mickey looked over at Sarah Jane in surprise, recognising that there was someone new and unknown with them, and Rose bristled at the tone and the words, jaw aching where she clenched it.
"No one dissects rats in school any more," Rose replied, eyes flashing. "They haven't done that for years. Where are you from, the dark ages?"
"Rose," Jackie warned, looking at Sarah Jane with a small frown. "Manners."
She bit her tongue and turned away from Sarah Jane, mortification welling up inside of her, fingers flexing at her side. There was a moment where the silence was awkward and uncomfortable before the Doctor bent down and scooped a packaged rat up into his hand and held the tip of the screwdriver to it, checking the readings.
"Normal rat," he said. "This is the maths department. Biology, I get, but maths? Why are they kept here?" He tossed the package to Jack who set it down on the side. "Whatever the reason, everything started when Mr Finch arrived. We should go and check his office."
"I thought you were doing that just now," Jack said. "What have you been doing all this time?"
"I got sidetracked," he said, heading out the door. "Come on, you lot."
He strode from the room, long legs leaving them behind, and there was another moment of awkward silence as the five of them left in the classroom stared at each other. Jack was the one who took the first step, a smile sweeping onto his face, hand extended in friendship and greeting.
"Jack Harkness," he introduced. "This is Mickey Smith. Nice to meet you."
Sarah Jane looked into the face of the most handsome man she had ever met and felt tired, taking his hand. "Sarah Jane Smith."
Jack pointed to the door. "Shall we? He won't wait for us but he'll get annoyed if we fall too far behind."
She longed for the comfort of her bed and a large glass of wine – peace and quiet as she tried to wrestle her emotions under control. She felt old and tossed aside in the face of the Doctor's new friends.
"Look, I don't mean to be rude or anythin'," Rose said in a tone of voice that implied the exact opposite as they hurried after the Doctor. "But who exactly are you?"
"I used to travel with the Doctor," Sarah Jane said. "We're old friends."
"Oh," Rose said, surprised, hurt, and a little interested, glancing at her from the corner of her eye, wondering if she was catching a glimpse of her future. She was struck by the fact that she had never heard Sarah Jane's name once; searching through her memories, she tried to find a time when the Doctor had mentioned anyone else who had travelled with him but she drew a blank. Confused and uncertain, she delivered an unintentionally cruel barb. "He's never mentioned you."
Sarah Jane's hair whipped in her face with the speed she turned to face them. "What? Not even once? He didn't mention me even once?"
"Sorry," Jack apologised with a small grimace. "But the Doctor doesn't really talk about his past a lot. I wouldn't take it personally."
"He mentioned you earlier," Jackie said in an effort to be helpful. Rose stared at her, and she shrugged. "He did, on the tube. Said he'd run into an old mate."
"Jacks, it's proper weird that you an' the Doctor talk," Mickey said, an odd expression on his face. He glanced at Sarah Jane who was looking troubled and upset, wanting to say something to take the look from her face but unable to think of anything helpful. "We nearly there?"
They came upon the Doctor outside Finch's office. His back was curved downwards as he tried to shut the door quietly but when Jack placed his hand on his back, letting him know they were there, he jumped, startled, and the door snapped shut with a loud click. His nostrils flared when he threw a glare at Jack who held his hands up in apology, sinking to his knees to thread a spool of camera cable through the crack beneath the door. Rather like the Doctor, his pockets tended to carry the strange and the useful, and he plugged the end of the cable into his phone, pulling the feed up onto his screen. He paused and looked up at the Doctor who nodded rapidly, gesturing with his hands; Jack nodded and returned a complicated gesture that had the Doctor tilting his head to one side, confusion making his brow crinkle.
"What are they doin'?" Jackie asked, bewildered.
"No idea," Rose said, tapping the Doctor to get his attention. "What is it?"
"You know you used to think all the teachers slept in the school?" He asked, turning Jack's phone around so that they were able to see the giant bats that hung from the ceiling. Mickey breathed in sharply and Jackie clamped a hand over her mouth while Rose and Sarah Jane leaned in closer, fascinated. "Well, they do."
Retrieving the cable, Jack wound it around his fist as they made their way out of the school in silence, moving with more care than they had shown before. Mickey kept glancing over his shoulder, expecting to find the bats soaring down the corridors towards them, and he was relieved when they stepped out into the cold. He paused and waited for Jack who relocked the school doors, a small barrier between them and the bats, before they rejoined the others that had congregated in the car park. They stood in a loose circle by an empty space, and Mickey walked a little closer to Jack than he might normally have done, the sight of the giant bats a sobering sight.
"Since Finch arrived, he's brought in seven new teachers, four dinner ladies and a nurse," the Doctor said with a frown. "Thirteen. Thirteen big bat people. That's ridiculous and, well, it's just ridiculous."
Sarah Jane buttoned her jacket up and shoved her hands into her pockets. "Did you recognise the species?"
"No," he said, annoyed. "There are a large number of species that look like that out there but none that have ever been to Earth before. Not that that's an eliminating factor as this planet does attract trouble. It really could be anyone." He rubbed the back of his neck. "All right, let's go back in."
"Are you crazy?" Mickey asked, breath crystallising in front of him. "I'm not going back in there. There are giant bat things hangin' from the ceilin', an' last time I got up close an' personal with aliens intendin' to hurt Earth, my flat didn't smell right for months."
"It's true," Jackie nodded, fresh cup of tea in her hands. "That vinegar smell wouldn't disappear."
"I need the TARDIS," he explained, ignoring their complaints. "I want to run a scan and see if I can find where their ship is. They must have one and I can't do that from out here."
Sarah Jane nudged his arm with her elbow, light but tangible through the sleeve of his coat. "I might be able to help you there. Come on, I've got something to show you."
Curious, the Doctor followed her over to her parked car – a small compact thing that made him think of Bessie despite the startling lack of similarities – and she reached into her pocket for her keys. She popped the boot and lifted a grey throw to reveal –
"K9!" Delight suffused him, and he grasped Sarah Jane's shoulder in excitement before bending over his old friend. "Oh, hey boy. Look at you, you gorgeous thing, I've missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did." He glanced over his shoulder at his friends, a grin slicing dimples down his cheeks. "Guys, allow me to introduce K9. Well, K9 Mark Three to be precise."
"He's gorgeous," Jack said, leaning over the dog eagerly and running a hand down its flank, appreciative in the way that only Jack was able to be. "I always wanted one of these when I was a kid."
"A metal dog," Jackie said with a sigh. "Why am I not surprised?"
Rose kept her distance, sleeves pulled down over her fingers. "Why does he look so disco?"
"Hey," the Doctor protested, making to cover K9's ears. "Listen, in the year 5000 this is cutting edge." He scratched behind an ear, disappointed that he didn't respond. "What happened to him? He was working just fine when I sent him to your aunt's."
"Yeah, over twenty years ago," Sarah Jane reminded him. "And he was working just fine until one day – nothing."
"Didn't you try and get him repaired?"
She rolled her eyes. "It's not like getting parts for a Mini Metro, is it? Besides, the technology inside him could rewrite human science. I couldn't show him to anyone, and I worried that if I took him to UNIT they might keep him."
"Right, good point," the Doctor said, screwdriver running over K9's body. "I might be able to fix him but not here. Is there a café around here or something? I need a table and proper light."
"There's a chip shop about a five-minute walk," Sarah Jane said, and he lifted K9 into his arms. She watched him, hand resting on the boot of her car. "I'll lead the way then, I suppose."