Fic: London's on the Horizon
Title: London's on the Horizon
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: T
Words: 902
Summary: When Harry elects to stay behind on Earth, the Doctor and Sarah adjust to his absence.
Notes: Written for daystarsearcher's prompt Four/Sarah, a scene between Terror of the Zygons and the Planet of Smirking Evil.
--
It's been several hours since they boarded the TARDIS, destination London. Sarah doesn't push when the Doctor remains mum about Harry's departure and decides to run several diagnostics on the shields. She's perfectly content in the meantime to grab a shower, make some tea in jimjams, and curl up in a chair. He'll figure it out eventually.
However, when the Doctor doesn't seem to be making any headway anytime soon, Sarah sets her book down to go looking for him. They may not be on Earth, but there are still such basic needs as food and sleep. She knows he's overdue for a healthy eight hours of uninterrupted rest. She makes her way to the console room, stopping to lean against the doorway and yawn.
He's half under the console, having shed at least the top layer of his multilayer outfit. Sarah can hear the slight clanks and clinks as he adjusts one of the rotors with one of his wrenches.
"Doctor-" At the sound of his name, he pauses, lifting his head from under the console. She can see the confused look in his eyes, and unsure of what to call it exactly, smiles to try and reassure him. "You've been at this for a bit. Why don't you take a break, hmm?"
"You said you wanted to make it back to London." He drops the wrench to the side with the other ones, running one hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, I think we're stuck here."
"Where's here?" She pulls away from the doorway, shuffling towards him. He remains sitting as she looks over the console, and her hands graze several switches in order to check their coordinates. "Huh, that's interesting."
"What's that?"
"Well, we're nowhere, really. Floating through the Vortex at an infinite number of miles an hour." Her hand brushes his curls before she slides down next to him and leans in close. "But you already know that don't you?"
"There is that possibility, yes." He tries not to let his smile grow too wide as she settles her head on his shoulder. "I'm trying not to let it be longer than necessary."
"It's okay," she sighs, her eyes closed, and he waits before leaning his head against hers.
"Harry didn't seem to think so. He'd rather travel in a shoddy old UNIT vehicle back to HQ with the Brigadier and a bunch of foul smelling officers, rather than in the TARDIS."
"I didn't think you cared whether Harry travelled with us or not." Sarah's right hand reaches for his left one. His fingers are cool but not too cool, and she wishes she'd reached for his hand sooner. It's as if she can feel his pulse slowing to accommodate the perfect balance of weight and temperature through their fingers.
"I don't."
"Then what's the problem?" Sarah tries to open her eyes, only to find she's now too comfortable to try and move. Her eyes manage no more than a narrow slit.
"I suppose there isn't one." He tries to look at her, and she notices his lingering gaze. "Except you're exhausted."
"And this floor isn't very kind to either of our backs." Sarah moves to stand, holding her hands out. The Doctor takes them, taking most of the weight from her as he stands on his own. She refuses to let go completely as she makes her way towards the door still holding one of his hands. "The diagnostics can wait."
"If you say so," he says as she leads him into the corridor. They walk quietly hand in hand. By the time they reach Sarah's room, her eyes are fully open.
"Doctor?" She turns, placing both hands over his hearts.
"Yes?"
"It doesn't look bad on your part that Harry wanted to leave. Some humans just aren't ready to acknowledge that there are other forces out there at work in the universe." She can feel his gaze on hers as his fingers reach up to touch his cheek.
"And you are?"
"Well of course," she pauses, relishing the touch of his fingers on her cheek. "But I'm not Harry. Harry is good and reliable, and will do amazing things on Earth throughout his lifetime. That's who he was always meant to be."
"And what do you think your future holds, Sarah Jane Smith?" She feels the apprehension of his words before the fear, and then the wait for her answer.
"I think my future waits for me." She leans up to brush a kiss across the corner of his lips. She doesn't allow the butterflies in her stomach to take root at this newfound intimate gesture. "But in the meantime, I'll settle for floating here in the Vortex with you for as long as it takes to get back to London."
She pulls away to enter her room. "Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Sarah." Once the door is closed, Sarah leans up against it, wondering if what she's done has been the right thing. Needless to say, she doesn't see him frozen to his spot as his hand touches his lips, recounting the split seconds her lips brushed his. Nor does she see him touch the door, his palm flat before turning and walking down the corridor.
Instead, she lies down and reaches for her owlie, bringing it up to her chest. The owlie's soft and familiar, and in no time she's fast asleep.
They'll talk more tomorrow.
--
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: T
Words: 902
Summary: When Harry elects to stay behind on Earth, the Doctor and Sarah adjust to his absence.
Notes: Written for daystarsearcher's prompt Four/Sarah, a scene between Terror of the Zygons and the Planet of Smirking Evil.
--
It's been several hours since they boarded the TARDIS, destination London. Sarah doesn't push when the Doctor remains mum about Harry's departure and decides to run several diagnostics on the shields. She's perfectly content in the meantime to grab a shower, make some tea in jimjams, and curl up in a chair. He'll figure it out eventually.
However, when the Doctor doesn't seem to be making any headway anytime soon, Sarah sets her book down to go looking for him. They may not be on Earth, but there are still such basic needs as food and sleep. She knows he's overdue for a healthy eight hours of uninterrupted rest. She makes her way to the console room, stopping to lean against the doorway and yawn.
He's half under the console, having shed at least the top layer of his multilayer outfit. Sarah can hear the slight clanks and clinks as he adjusts one of the rotors with one of his wrenches.
"Doctor-" At the sound of his name, he pauses, lifting his head from under the console. She can see the confused look in his eyes, and unsure of what to call it exactly, smiles to try and reassure him. "You've been at this for a bit. Why don't you take a break, hmm?"
"You said you wanted to make it back to London." He drops the wrench to the side with the other ones, running one hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, I think we're stuck here."
"Where's here?" She pulls away from the doorway, shuffling towards him. He remains sitting as she looks over the console, and her hands graze several switches in order to check their coordinates. "Huh, that's interesting."
"What's that?"
"Well, we're nowhere, really. Floating through the Vortex at an infinite number of miles an hour." Her hand brushes his curls before she slides down next to him and leans in close. "But you already know that don't you?"
"There is that possibility, yes." He tries not to let his smile grow too wide as she settles her head on his shoulder. "I'm trying not to let it be longer than necessary."
"It's okay," she sighs, her eyes closed, and he waits before leaning his head against hers.
"Harry didn't seem to think so. He'd rather travel in a shoddy old UNIT vehicle back to HQ with the Brigadier and a bunch of foul smelling officers, rather than in the TARDIS."
"I didn't think you cared whether Harry travelled with us or not." Sarah's right hand reaches for his left one. His fingers are cool but not too cool, and she wishes she'd reached for his hand sooner. It's as if she can feel his pulse slowing to accommodate the perfect balance of weight and temperature through their fingers.
"I don't."
"Then what's the problem?" Sarah tries to open her eyes, only to find she's now too comfortable to try and move. Her eyes manage no more than a narrow slit.
"I suppose there isn't one." He tries to look at her, and she notices his lingering gaze. "Except you're exhausted."
"And this floor isn't very kind to either of our backs." Sarah moves to stand, holding her hands out. The Doctor takes them, taking most of the weight from her as he stands on his own. She refuses to let go completely as she makes her way towards the door still holding one of his hands. "The diagnostics can wait."
"If you say so," he says as she leads him into the corridor. They walk quietly hand in hand. By the time they reach Sarah's room, her eyes are fully open.
"Doctor?" She turns, placing both hands over his hearts.
"Yes?"
"It doesn't look bad on your part that Harry wanted to leave. Some humans just aren't ready to acknowledge that there are other forces out there at work in the universe." She can feel his gaze on hers as his fingers reach up to touch his cheek.
"And you are?"
"Well of course," she pauses, relishing the touch of his fingers on her cheek. "But I'm not Harry. Harry is good and reliable, and will do amazing things on Earth throughout his lifetime. That's who he was always meant to be."
"And what do you think your future holds, Sarah Jane Smith?" She feels the apprehension of his words before the fear, and then the wait for her answer.
"I think my future waits for me." She leans up to brush a kiss across the corner of his lips. She doesn't allow the butterflies in her stomach to take root at this newfound intimate gesture. "But in the meantime, I'll settle for floating here in the Vortex with you for as long as it takes to get back to London."
She pulls away to enter her room. "Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Sarah." Once the door is closed, Sarah leans up against it, wondering if what she's done has been the right thing. Needless to say, she doesn't see him frozen to his spot as his hand touches his lips, recounting the split seconds her lips brushed his. Nor does she see him touch the door, his palm flat before turning and walking down the corridor.
Instead, she lies down and reaches for her owlie, bringing it up to her chest. The owlie's soft and familiar, and in no time she's fast asleep.
They'll talk more tomorrow.
--