Rating: PG
Pairing: Sarah/Harry
Beta: hhertzof
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sarah’s pregnant, Harry’s the father, see the title for an idea of what happens next.

"I think that's enough to be going on with," Sarah said, closing her notebook and putting the lid back on her pen.

"If you need any more information, you know where I am."

The Brigadier stood and she followed suit. They shook hands and she smiled at him.

"You've been so helpful, Brigadier, thank you."

He coughed. "Well, you were a member of UNIT, technically."

He came around his desk and put his hand on the door handle before Sarah's curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "Have you heard from the Doctor lately?"

"Not recently, but I dare say he'll turn up when he needs something."

She nodded. Not that it would be terribly convenient for the Doctor to come back while she was still pregnant, but she had hoped he might at least have spoken to someone by now. Her mood brightened, though, when the Brigadier opened the door to reveal Benton walking past it.

"Benton!"

He gave her a smile. "Hello, miss. Good to see you again."

She turned back to the Brigadier. "You don't mind if I stay a little while?"

He sighed. "No, do whatever you like."

"Thank you."

"So," she asked Benton as she fell into step with him, "how are things in UNIT?"

"Oh, same as usual. Well, quiet really."

"The Doctor does tend to invite trouble."

"It certainly seems like it."

Not far down the corridor Benton stopped outside a door on the left. "I have a briefing," he said.

"Well, it was good to see you again."

"And you, miss." With that he went into the room and closed the door behind him.

It was good to know, Sarah thought, that some things never changed - except there had been something not quite right with her conversation with Benton. Or the Brigadier, come to that. It was strange that neither one of them commented on her pregnancy. Admittedly, she only spoke to Benton for a few minutes but if you met an old friend and suddenly discovered she was pregnant, surely you would want to ask?

She had her suspicions about this, so headed off to the sick bay, where she found Harry trying to type up a report, two-fingered and slowly.

"Hello, Harry," she said, as she came round the door.

He jumped and jabbed at a key. "Oh, dash it," he said, peering at what he had typed.

She could not help but smile. "Don't you have someone to do that for you?"

"Off sick. It's this flu that's been going round; we're short-staffed at the moment." He pulled the paper out of the typewriter, screwed it up and threw it at the bin. It missed. He looked up at her. "Be careful you don't catch it."

"I've been fine so far." She folded her arms and leant against the door frame.

"While you're here, I don't suppose..." He waved at the typewriter, looking hopefully up at her.

"I'm not your secretary."

"I'll buy you dinner."

"It was your turn anyway."

His expression did not change, so she rolled her eyes and stood up straight. "Oh, all right. I came here to thank you anyway. For getting me the article with Percy."

"Percy?"

He stood up and they exchanged places.

"Editor of the Metropolitan. He apparently spoke to the Brigadier and came up with a proposal for an article on UNIT."

He frowned at her as she sat down on the chair he had just vacated. "Is that such a good idea?"

"Well, the Brigadier seems to think so. And I know it was you who told the Brig to speak to him in the first place, thank you."

He peered around the room. Spotting a chair by the window, he started clearing some files off it. "You're welcome. Although all I told him was that your trip with the Doctor was preventing you from getting work."

She picked up the report he had been trying to type up and frowned at it. "Harry, your handwriting is terrible. And this is confidential, I shouldn't be reading this."

"So don't tell anyone."

She shook her head and handed him the report. "Speaking of which, what did you tell the Brigadier and Benton?"

"About what?" He stood awkwardly with the files in his arms, looking for somewhere to put them. Eventually he decided the floor was the best place and he moved the chair over to sit opposite her.

"About the baby. I was expecting someone to say something."

She pulled out a fresh piece of paper from the packet on the desk but did nothing with it yet. She just stared at him until he gave in.

Eventually he answered, "I told them in advance. I didn't think you wanted them to ask you awkward questions."

"You didn't tell the whole base did you?"

"No, only a few people."

"Good."

She fed the paper into the typewriter while she decided whether she wanted to tell him off about it. "It's not that I don't appreciate it, I just..." She looked up at him. "I can fight my own battles."

"You seemed like you needed my help."

"And for a while, maybe I did. But this mess is my fault, I ought to be able to take the consequences for it."

There was silence for a minute, so Sarah looked up and then Harry spoke. "You think the baby is a mess?" Although his tone of voice suggested it was not really a question.

She grimaced. That probably had not been the best way of putting it. "I wasn't talking just about the baby."

Fortunately for her the Brigadier interrupted them when he put his head round the door and said, "Sullivan, is that report done yet?"

"I'm going as fast as I can, sir."

"Miss Smith, are you still here?"

"I'm typing it for him."

"Well as long as I get it before the end of the day."

He left and Sarah hid her grin behind her hand. Harry sighed and she placed her fingers on the keys, ready.

"I'm only doing this once," she told him.

"I wasn't going to ask again."

"No, but you were thinking about it. Now, you dictate, I'll type."

Once they began, they got Harry's report done within the hour and Sarah got her dinner, where she contrived to order the most expensive food she could, just to make the point.

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Fandom: Doctor Who | Type: Character: Harry Sullivan, Character: Sarah Jane Smith, Length: Long story, Pairing: Sarah/Harry, Series: Soap Opera, Type: Het | Link

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