"Are you looking for Sarah?" Across the road a woman closed the door of a van with "Bloomin' Lovely" printed on the side.

Jo waited until she'd reached the pavement on this side before answering. "I am. Do you know where she is?"

"She went out. Took my daughter with her. Rani wants to be a journalist and Sarah's so good to her, showing her the ropes."

Given what she'd heard, chances were that Sarah Jane had gone to investigate something alien and could be gone a while. But Jo couldn't wait.

"Can I help?" the woman asked, while Jo was thinking about what to do next.

"I just came to give her this." Jo pulled a grey object the size of a mobile phone out of her pocket. Given all the alien activity in the area, this woman was bound to know what to do with it while Sarah Jane was out.

"Oh, what is it?" Before Jo could protest the woman took the object from her hand, at which point it turned into a spidery-like thing. Surprised, the woman screamed and dropped it. The spider ran off down the road, clicking as it went.

"We have to catch it!" Jo started after it.

"It's just a spider," the woman complained, but at least she was running too.

"It's not just a spider," Jo replied. "It's designed to send signals into space to let invaders know where to land."

"We don't want the French over here."

Jo supposed that was a code word for aliens. They were in the middle of Ealing after all and should probably be careful about what they said. "There it is!" She managed to put on a burst of speed and caught one of its legs with the tip of her boot.

"Well done," the woman said, panting beside her.

Their victory was short-lived because the spider just detached that leg and carried on.

"Oh, no, you don't." The woman took off her shoe and threw it at the spider. Jo couldn't tell if it was luck or a good aim, but she hit it and the spider went still.

Jo picked it up. It looked like a dead, grey, robotic spider now.

"Don't let it fall into enemy hands," the woman said.

"I think it's dead." It should have folded up back into its original shape, but it just lay there, lifeless. Jo stroked it, to no effect.

"Well, we won't be invaded, will we? Got to look on the bright side."

Jo smiled. There was no point in explaining where it had come from and that the aliens who'd left it were threatening violence unless they got it back. She hadn't even meant to take it in the first place. But all she said was, "Thank you for your help." It would have been worse if she hadn't got the spider back.

"You're welcome, my darling." The woman smiled at her and walked back up to the van she'd come from.

Jo put the spider in her pocket and left a message on Sarah Jane's voice mail. Which, she reflected, she should have done in the first place.

"Emma Peel," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. "I heard you're the person to go to when the world needs saving."

"Sarah Jane Smith." She shook Emma's hand. "I suppose I am. Where did you hear about me?"

"Steed has connections," she said cryptically and smiled. "Get in."

The car was old, but Sarah Jane had to admit, it was fun to drive in. "What needs saving exactly?" she asked, going back to the important question.

"Time." Emma looked over at her, smiling. "A diabolical mastermind is wiping out whole decades of history. It was the 1960s only this morning."

"I have a computer that could help." Admittedly, Sarah Jane could phone him, if she dared get her mobile out in this wind, but he was a lot easier to talk to from the attic, which they were now travelling away from at a ludicrous speed for an old car.

"We don't need computers." Emma turned the car off down a lane and towards a large house.

Half of the house looked Tudor from the front, the other half looked like it had been built in the past twenty years. The two halves didn't quite mesh. As Emma parked the car in front of it, what Sarah Jane assumed was the butler opened the door.

"Mrs Peel," the butler said. "We've been expecting you."

"I do hope I'm not late. It's so hard to tell with the year changing so rapidly." Despite her light tone there was an underside of sarcasm that told Sarah Jane that perhaps Emma hadn't been expecting them to expect her.

"I'll sneak round the back," Sarah Jane said.

Emma gave a small nod and headed inside the house.

Sarah Jane left her to the mercies of the butler and meandered up the drive, pretending to look at the flowers. Once the front door was shut she ran as quietly as she could around the house until she found the back door. She soniced the lock and then set about finding the diabolical mastermind in charge of this house.

After two hallways, a kitchen, a library and a laundry room, she finally heard voices. One sounded a little like the butler, but the other was definitely Emma. They were behind a heavy, wooden door that was open a crack. Sarah Jane pushed it, hoping it wouldn't creak. Once she had it open far enough, she peered inside.

Emma was tied to a table, but pulling at the ropes that secured her. The butler was smiling and standing in front of a machine that took up a whole wall. It reminded her of the console in the TARDIS. This had the same buttons and levers, but was a different shape. As she watched, the butler pulled a lever and Emma began to grow wrinkles and her hair turned grey.

Sarah Jane opened the door with a crash. She couldn't let him age Emma. She aimed the sonic lipstick at the machine and it sparked.

"No!" the butler cried. "I won't let you get away with this!" He began pulling out wires, and as he was preoccupied, Sarah Jane went over to Emma to undo the ropes.

Her hands had some age spots, Sarah Jane noticed. "I'm sorry," she said.

"We haven't finished yet." As soon as she was free, Emma jumped up and kicked the butler, sending him flying into the machine.

It sparked some more, and Sarah Jane and Emma jumped back out of the way. The machine screeched before its humming quieted and finally stopped. The butler aged from forty to eighty in the space of a few minutes and finally dropped to the floor.

"Is that it?" Sarah Jane asked. But she could see that it was, just by looking at Emma. She was already going back to the age she'd been when they first met. "We did it!" She hugged Emma, who looked a bit surprised at the gesture.

"We're going back to the times we came from." That would explain why Emma was starting to look transparent. "I'm afraid you'll have to make your own way home."

As she disappeared the room around her changed and became a sitting room.

"How did you get in here?"

Sarah Jane turned to see a cross, well-dressed woman looking furious. She didn't stay and explain - it was always far better to run.

Rose rounded the corner to find a girl not much older than she kicking a drainpipe. "What's the drainpipe ever done to you?" she asked, joking. But her smile turned to a frown when she saw something purple and furry slithering out of the drainpipe. "What's that?"

"Not dead," the dark haired girl replied, not quite answering her question. As she turned to Rose and then back to the drainpipe Rose noticed she had 'Ace' written on the back of her jacket. Rose wasn't sure what it stood for. "All right, now you've asked for it." She pulled a grey spray-can out of her jacket pocket and threw it at the purple thing. "Run!"

Rose discovered why they were running when there was a small explosion behind them. She looked behind her to see the purple thing strewn across the pavement and half the drainpipe was missing. "Someone's going to wonder what that was."

"Nitro 9," the girl replied, proudly.

She wasn't very good at answering questions in a way that made sense. But before Rose could ask any more there were shouts and footsteps coming their way. "I know a way out of here." She took the other girl down alleyways and back streets until they were far enough away to be safe.

"Thanks," she said. "Look, I've got to be getting back. The Professor will wonder where I am." She ran off before Rose could ask her name or what that purple thing was.

A few days later, when the local gossip had died down, Rose forgot all about the incident. It was a few years later when a man in Henrik's told her to run that she was reminded of the girl. She meant to ask the Doctor if he knew anything, but what with travel to other times and nearly getting killed on more than one occasion, it went right out of her head.

"Hmm," the Doctor said, peering at a screen.

Ian refused to respond to that. Instead he put his hands in his pockets and waited to see if the Doctor explained himself.

The Doctor didn't. He merely moved the chair at the next desk out of his way so he could peer at the screen there and say "Hmm" again.

Ian sighed. "What is it, Doctor?"

"Huh?" The Doctor looked round with a surprised expression, as if he'd forgotten his companion was there.

It was Ian's turn to wait for the Doctor to comment. He leaned against the desk and folded his arms.

The Doctor took his glasses off and stepped closer to Ian, lowering his voice. "They're predicting the weather tomorrow will be cloudy."

Ian shrugged. "That sounds about right for England in the autumn."

"But there's going to be a hurricane."

"Really?" Ian twisted round to look at the screen, but he couldn't see where the Doctor was getting that conclusion from the data. "How do you know?"

"From this." The Doctor grinned and pulled a book out of his pocket, which he waved at Ian.

As it moved Ian managed to read the title: 'The Pocket Book of Weather in Britain in the 20th Century'. He rolled his eyes. "Don't you think you should tell them?"

The Doctor considered that for a moment. "I think I'll wait and see if they notice. They'll learn from their mistakes far better than if I just told them."

"Isn't that irresponsible? A hurricane could do untold amounts of damage if there's no warning."

"They won't be believe me anyway." The Doctor patted him on the shoulder. "Oh look, there's the TARDIS."

Ian gave in. This was all in his future anyway. Perhaps he could warn people once this date came around. Assuming the Doctor ever got him home...

Martha steps closer to him and takes his hand. "It won't be the same without you," she whispers.

The last of Harry's resolve vanishes and they enter the TARDIS, hand in hand.

~*~

Their first meeting didn't go well.

"I say, what are you doing in my sickbay?" Harry frowned at the young woman going through the cupboards, looking as if she had every right to be there. She didn't - Harry was the MO and he prescribed the drugs, not the patients. Although if she was a patient, she didn't look like she was injured.

"Dr Jones," Martha said, as she turned and held out her hand. "You must be Dr Sullivan."

"Er, yes." Harry shook her hand out of instinct and politeness. "You're a doctor?"

"Women can be doctors," she said. "Amazing, isn't it?" She grinned at him and he already knew he was going to give in to her without much of a fight.

~*~

"Harry!" Martha's head appears over the edge of the small cliff he's just fallen down. "Are you all right?"

Harry pauses to take stock of which bits of him hurt. "My pride's bruised," he says and is cheered by her smile at that comment. "I think I've sprained my ankle," he adds, when he tries to stand. It doesn't appear to be broken at least.

"Stay where you are," she says. "We'll come and find you."

While he waits for the Doctor and Martha, he limps down to the sea to cool his injured ankle. It's feeling a lot better by the time they arrive, but that doesn't stop him from taking the opportunity to hang onto Martha. The Doctor meanwhile comments on his tendency not to look where he's putting his feet.

~*~

It wasn't until they were tied up together on Voga that Harry found out what was really going on.

"Shut up about the gold, Harry," Martha said patiently.

"Gold's a soft metal," he pointed out. It wasn't a good metal to use to tie people up, therefore and he had a plan.

"And there I was thinking you were going to take advantage of me all tied up."

Shocked at the suggestion, Harry looked over at Martha, still holding a rock he hoped would be suitable to use as a hammer. She was grinning. "I wouldn't...." he began.

"I know you wouldn't." She softened her grin into a smile. "But I know you want to."

Not in this situation he didn't, but she was a pretty girl and he liked her. He didn't know quite what to say to that, so he said nothing, trying to think of a good lie to tell.

"Maybe later," she said, then added, in a whisper, "You can even tie me up if you like."

He dropped the rock on his foot.

~*~

Despite the amount of time they've been away, both Harry and his flat have survived intact.

"Now we're home," Harry says, as he holds the door open for Martha, "we can just go back to being friends, if you want."

Martha turned and frowned at him. "Why would I want that?"

"I just thought... I mean, you're an intelligent girl, why would you want me?"

"I can give you a list, but only if you shut the front door." She smiles and steps closer to Harry so they're nearly touching. "I wouldn't want the neighbours to see."

Harry raises his eyebrows, but does as he's told and shuts the door. He smiles and blushes when Martha stands on tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

2.
Eventually Donna tired of not being able to understand the scribbles in her notebook. At the bottom she wrote 'What is this????'. The next morning, there was a reply beneath it, also in her handwriting: 'It makes toast'. Mum already had a toaster, so she ignored it. But the morning after, she found that in the night she'd written, 'It makes better toast than Mum's toaster', along with a list of materials. Out of curiosity Donna bought the materials on the list. The next morning the toaster was sitting on her bedside table fully made. It did make good toast.

3.
The telly was on the blink, so when Donna went to bed, she wrote 'I need a new TV' at the top of a new page. In the morning there was such a long list of materials that it took Donna all day just to establish that she didn't have enough money to buy them all. Even after Mum chipped in it still took a week to get everything. In the morning there was a working television on her bedroom floor, and a piece left over. Mum and Gramps were happy; Donna felt used and didn't ask for anything again.

4.
A brain that worked better while she slept wasn't useful in a crisis. Like during a zombie invasion. Gramps asked, "What do we do, Donna?" while Mum hit the one in the doorway with a frying pan. This was no time for a nap and just picking up a pen wasn't achieving anything.

"I need to be asleep." It was supposed to tell them that she was no help in this situation. However, Mum took that as a hint and hit her with the frying pan.

When Donna woke up she found she'd written one word on her hand: 'Duck'.

5.
If she could get household appliances, perhaps she could try something better. Donna wrote 'A husband'. The next morning, the page was full of directions which led her to a pub and a woman sitting alone. Dubiously, Donna sat down.

"That seat's taken," the woman said, before sighing. "He's not coming, is he?"

Donna smiled sympathetically. "You're better off without him. I'm Donna."

"Penny." They shook hands. "Maybe this evening won't be a dead loss after all."

Donna looked her over. She hadn't mentioned gender and since men tended to be such a dead loss, why not try something different?

"Just making a few repairs." The Doctor came out from under the desk and aimed his sonic screwdriver at a box with a cable running from it. "Pass me that screwdriver would you?" He gestured at one that looked a little like his, but bigger and with a green end.

Wanting to get out of here before the neighbours reported a break-in, she picked it up and handed it to him.

"I just need to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow..." A few hums later and he had finished.

With the computers fixed (why did anyone need more than one?) and the rabbits bored with the strangers who didn't offer them food, they returned to the TARDIS.

"While we're in the area," the Doctor asked, as he opened the door, "how about a trip to the Empire State Building?"

The view would be spectacular but... "If you can get us there."

"Of course I can."

Sarah said nothing at his offended tone, but the London Eye didn't have quite the same skyline.

Barbara had only been at Coal Hill School since Easter, so this was the first time she'd seen the staff let their hair down. O levels, A levels and end of year exams had kept everyone too busy to celebrate a week off at half term, so it seemed like they were making up for it now. It was only tea time and already she had seen signs of people who couldn't hold their drink.

With the growing inebriation the time for pleasant chat about plans for the summer holidays was beginning to pass; now there was some serious drinking to do. Guarding her glass of wine in case anyone spilt it, Barbara made her way over to where Brenda sat on a padded bench in a corner. They smiled at each other and Brenda shifted over just enough for Barbara to squeeze on the end.

Once she sat down Barbara discovered she had a good view of the whole pub and half the garden from this position. Which was probably why Brenda had bagged the seat. "Where's Susie?" she asked. Brenda and Susie seemed to be the least harmless of the staff, based on which of them gossiped the most, and therefore her closest female friends at the school.

"Gregg thinks he's getting somewhere with her," Brenda replied, pointing the pair of them out. "But he's just had too much to drink as usual."

As Barbara watched, Gregg shifted forward on his seat, so his and Susie's knees were touching. Susie made a face and turned sideways. Barbara put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing, but Brenda didn't have any such inhibitions. The sound carried easily and distracted Gregg long enough for Susie to escape his clutches and rush to the safety of the toilets.

"And Ian has half the women in the pub hanging on his every word," Brenda continued, looking over to the other side of the bar.

Barbara had been trying not to look, but it was hard to miss. The same thing happened at school. Ian never lacked for company in the canteen or the staff room. At least Brenda and Susie never threw themselves at him. Barbara couldn't understand why the rest of them did, but Ian never seemed to mind. He looked to be in his element now, entertaining the women arranged before him. She wondered if he knew that it wasn't just his witty repartee they were interested in, but she didn't see how he could miss it.

She started when she heard him call her name.

"Barbara will know more about that than I do," he said loud enough for her to hear and motioned for her to come over.

She didn't miss the looks the other women gave her and she hesitated to leave her comfortable seat. Brenda, however, had other ideas and practically pushed her out of it. Then moved over, so there wasn't any space for Barbara to sit back down. She grinned as Barbara gave her a look.

Ian didn't appear to have seen any of this and he smiled at her as she turned back to face him. Accepting her fate, she smiled back and went over. The other women grudgingly made space for her beside them although not, she noticed, next to Ian.

"Rhonda was asking about Galileo being excommunicated," he said. "But that's more your speciality than mine."

Barbara gave him a searching look, but he looked and sounded sincere. She didn't kid herself for a minute that the women around her wanted to hear what she had to say about Galileo.

"I know what he said," he continued, "but not why his discoveries caused so much trouble."

He looked interested. She could understand that he might want to know more about the subject, so she stayed and told Ian what she knew, for the sake of his curiosity if nothing else. As she did so, ignoring the other women, they gradually drifted away and left her alone with Ian. He didn't seem to notice and happily carried on chatting with Barbara for the rest of the evening.

~*~

When Ian had invited her to come along to a party with his colleagues, Barbara wondered why he'd asked. He'd only been to one since starting at the college, but that was before they were married. Even so, husbands and wives weren't usually invited since it was just the usual end of term celebration. Ian wouldn't give her anything but the vaguest of reasons, but she suspected it had something to do with that last party and why he hadn't been to any since. He wouldn't be drawn on just what had happened, though, so she agreed to come along, thinking that she might at least get to find out why he was so quiet about it.

Barbara had to come straight from school herself, so she was a little late. All eyes turned to her as she walked in and she tried not to blush at the attention. She hadn't intended to make an entrance. Fortunately, Ian soon came over and everyone turned back to their conversations. He introduced her to the secretary, Mary, who was hosting the party at her flat, then he left to get her a drink.

"It's so lovely to meet you," Mary said.

Barbara blinked, surprised. She hadn't imagined Ian had spoken of her much. Or perhaps it was because he hadn't that they were all curious to see what she was like. She tried not to feel scrutinised - Mary wasn't Ian's mother after all. "Your home is lovely," she said, so as not to dwell on that thought.

Mary beamed. That was clearly the right thing to say. "My husband works in the city."

So that explained how she could afford a big flat in the centre of London overlooking the Thames.

"But enough about my husband, what about yours?" Mary looked far more interested in the subject than Barbara would have expected.

Barbara frowned. "What about Ian?" She wondered what was taking him so long to pour one drink.

"Well," she lowered her voice, "does he flirt with everyone or just women he really likes?"

Barbara looked at her, agape as she wondered exactly what Ian had been doing. Then she shook her head. That idea was ridiculous. He was just naturally charming to everyone. Admittedly, he had flirted with her, but then he'd married her. She couldn't imagine that he flirted with Mary. He had always been so popular with the female teachers at Coal Hill and could probably have had any woman he wanted. But he'd chosen her.

She looked over to the kitchen to see Ian, a drink in each hand, surrounded by women. After a moment of jealousy she reminded herself how he'd reacted when that happened in the past. Barbara wondered if she should go over, but she couldn't understand why these women would be hanging on his every word just because he was handsome and charming. They must know he was married and that she was here.

Her pause had gone on so long that Mary called her name. Barbara had forgotten she was there for a moment. But before Barbara could try and come up with an answer to her question, Ian caught her eye, and then mouthed 'help' at her. She tried not to smile and told herself she'd been silly to think that Ian would be interested in anyone else.

"He doesn't flirt with anyone," she said sternly. "Please excuse me," she added in a more normal tone of voice, before going into the kitchen. Ian held a glass of wine out to her and once she'd taken it, he put an arm about her shoulders. The women around him were a range of ages and beauty. Some of them had glazed expressions and Barbara soon found out why when she listened to the conversation.

Most of it she didn't understand, but she knew enough to tell that it was highly technical. Given their expressions she wasn't sure any of these women were scientists, which made her wonder how they'd got onto this topic in the first place. Shooting her looks of hatred, the women drifted away one by one. Ian continued talking, although Barbara suspected what he was saying was nonsense. She'd known him long enough to pick up some science after all.

Once the last one had gone Ian sighed and kissed Barbara.

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"I don't think they believed I was married," he said.

She frowned. Admittedly they'd eloped at half term, but he had returned wearing a wedding ring, which Barbara would have said was proof enough.

"I think they think I'm just pretending because I can't choose between them."

Barbara tried not to smile. Some things never changed. Although these days she knew she had no reason to be jealous. "Oh, I think they know now," she said, remembering the looks they'd given her. "But just to be sure..." She kissed him again.

Johnny held his hands up, away from the console and backed away, wide-eyed. "The TARDIS told me." He sounded amazed. "You never said it could do that," he accused his parents, who'd followed him into the TARDIS, fearing the Doctor was going to kidnap their son.

"She doesn't," the Doctor answered before anyone else could get a word in. "Unless..." He turned on Ian and Barbara. "You two had sex on the TARDIS."

Ian coughed and spluttered; Barbara, blushing, slapped him on the back.

The Doctor folded his arms and advanced on the couple. "And Johnny here was born nine months later."

"It was more like eight and a..." Ian broke off at the look from his wife.

"So you did." He spun around to point at Johnny. "You're a Time Lord."

Johnny shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"He's human," Barbara protested.

"Of course he is. Never said he wasn't." The Doctor flicked a couple of switches and turned a dial. "Exposure to the vortex creates Time Lords. And Time Lord babies if they're conceived while the TARDIS is in flight." He stared at Ian and Barbara, who looked away, embarrassed. The Doctor turned back to the console to pull a lever with a flourish. The familiar sounds of the TARDIS dematerialising soon followed.

"Doctor, you can't just take off." Ian took a step forward, worried, but managing not to sound panicked.

"If I knew bringing a man and a woman on board at the same time would cause this many problems, I'd never have done it." He frowned as he stopped to think. "I wonder how many of the others have children." He made a face at the idea.

Ian ignored the Doctor, as he often did when he wasn't making sense. "But you can't control where we go."

"Of course I can," he said, offended, as they landed. "You three stay here." Then he opened the doors and strode out of the TARDIS before anyone else could catch him.

Johnny started after him, but Ian caught his arm just as Johnny reached the doors. "You don't know what's out there."

"It's a car park," Johnny said, sounding unimpressed.

Ian frowned. "What?" He stood beside his son and peered outside. Johnny was right, it was a car park. And unless there was an identical one elsewhere in the universe, it was the car park by their local shops.

Barbara joined him at the door. "There's Maud from number three." She was on her way out of the supermarket, shopping bags in each hand and in danger of looking straight at them at any minute.

Ian stepped back, out of Maud's line of sight, pulling Barbara and Johnny with him.

"Dad," Johnny complained, pulling out of Ian's grasp.

"If anyone sees us you'll end up having to answer questions about why you were coming out of a police box. Believe me, it's far better to just deny all knowledge." With that, Ian pushed the doors shut, so Maud wouldn't be tempted to see what was inside.

Johnny sighed, seeing the truth in that. "But what does being a Time Lord mean?"

Ian and Barbara looked at each other. Barbara shrugged and Ian was left to answer the question. "I don't know." He was worried about that one himself. "You'll have to ask the Doctor when he comes back."

Johnny went back to examine the console and the Doctor returned a minute later, grinning. "Now there'll be no more Time Lord babies. One per companion should do it." He plonked a box of condoms down on the console with a grin.

As she peered over his shoulder Barbara discovered that was an understatement. Outside the landscape was uninviting; bare, aside from the odd leafless tree dotted around and the wind swirled around the Ship. She folded her arms around herself and shivered in the breeze blowing through the open doors. "I'll get my coat," she said. Once she took a few steps the heat of the console room warmed her up.

"I'll get them," Vicki promised.

Barbara smiled at the girl as she went off to fetch their coats. Ian, however, wasn't waiting and he stepped outside, even though he only had a cardigan to protect him from the cold. Barbara shook her head. If he wanted to prove he was a man by freezing that was up to him, as long as he didn't expect her to admire him doing so. She wasn't sure what was worth going out there for, but since they'd landed they might as well investigate their surroundings. You never knew what you might find.

"What is this?" The Doctor was puttering about the console, pressing buttons. The readings the scanner gave about this planet suggested it was summer. It should be sunny and hot out there but it wasn't and the Doctor was vexed that it was wrong. Mind you, Barbara was happy for them to stay while he fixed it if it meant not getting the wrong information when they landed somewhere deadly.

As Vicki returned, their coats in her arms, Barbara heard a noise. She turned round to see the doors closing. "Ian!" He looked back at her shout, but he'd wandered too far and couldn't get inside before the doors shut completely. "Doctor, what did you do that for?"

"I didn't. The Ship did it all by itself." He frowned at the console.

Back when they'd first come aboard, Barbara wouldn't have believed him, but that was a long time ago. Now he and Ian were friends and they hadn't argued recently. The Doctor had no reason to shut him outside. "So open them again," she snapped.

"They won't!" He flapped at the console, pulling levers and flicking switches. Nothing happened for a moment, then Ian's thumping on the door gave way to the familiar sound of the Ship taking off.

"Doctor!" Barbara and Vicki shouted at the same time.

"I'm sorry." He looked first at Barbara, then Vicki. "I can't stop it." He sounded defeated.

Barbara couldn't speak as her heart thudded and a lump formed in her throat. Ian was going to be stuck on that planet and they had no way of getting back to him. She had to hope there were friendly people nearby, otherwise Ian would freeze to death on his own. Or starve to death, she wasn't sure which would come first.

"You must be able to do something," Vicki pleaded.

Barbara looked hopefully at the Doctor, hand to her mouth as she tried not to think about Ian's fate.

"Well, maybe... It's just a possibility, mind..." He didn't tell them what he was trying, instead flicking a switch. The sound of taking off immediately gave way to one of landing and Barbara began to hope that maybe just this once, he'd been able to control their destination.

When the Doctor opened the doors Barbara rushed over to them. The view she had was the same as the one she'd seen moments ago. Except this time there was no sign of Ian. She called his name, but heard nothing in response. Worried, she asked the Doctor, "When are we?"

He shook his head. "I don't know." He tapped at a read-out, but presumably it didn't tell him anything.

The trouble with time travel was that just because they'd left a minute ago, it didn't mean that only a minute had gone by. It could be hours or years, or they could have arrived before they left. However long it was, Ian would have to assume that they might not be coming back for him. In this cold, he couldn't wait forever. But she hated to think he'd died waiting, so she had to assume that he was out there somewhere. She couldn't just give up on him.

Without waiting for the Doctor, she stepped out of the Ship, looking at the ground for clues as to which direction Ian went. But she'd never had to track anything in the wild before and didn't know what to look for. This wasn't sand or snow; there were no footprints.

"We'll all look for him." The Doctor came up behind her and put her coat over her shoulders.

Barbara smiled at him as she put her arms through the sleeves and buttoned it up. Of course she wasn't on her own. "We should split up," she suggested. With nothing on the horizon, Ian could have gone anywhere.

The Doctor nodded. "Meet back here in half an hour." He closed the door behind him and at Barbara's nod, he strode off with Vicki, imploring her to stay close. Vicki seemed happy to oblige.

The landscape was eerie, but Barbara had other things to be scared of, so she started out in the opposite direction. As she walked she reminded herself that Ian was resourceful. She'd seen him make fire without matches or a lighter and there was no reason he couldn't do the same here, even if she couldn't see any smoke.

Something caught her eye as she passed a tree and she stopped to look at it. It was faint, but there was an 'IC' carved into it. Even if the straight line of the 'I' was a coincidence, the 'C' couldn't be. She breathed a sigh of relief. She almost called the Doctor and Vicki back, but she didn't know how long ago Ian had made the mark and it was possible he'd gone the other way some time later.

Now she picked up her pace, checking the trees as she passed. Whenever she couldn't see Ian's initials on one, she changed direction and was soon rewarded with another sign. After a few minutes, when she was starting to get warm from the exercise, she trod on something hard at the base of a tree. She almost ignored it in her rush, but it wasn't a familiar feeling underfoot, so she stopped in case it was something important. It was Ian's penknife.

She pulled her hands out of her pockets to pick it up, then looked around. If Ian had dropped it on purpose there would be other clues, but there was nothing she could see. The 'IC' on this tree was complete, so he hadn't been disturbed while he was carving. There were no signs that anything or anyone was here now, but Barbara still gripped the penknife tightly as she cautiously carried on.

The next tree still had an 'IC' on it, but it looked different as if it had been made by another hand. She ran her fingers along the initials, sure they were created by the same blade. But how could Ian have carved into the tree with a penknife he no longer had? She found his initials on two more trees along the route too.

After a few more minutes she heard the footsteps of someone running. Although they came from somewhere in front of her, she could see nothing and the barren landscape around wasn't enough to hide a person. With trembling hands, she pulled out a blade from the penknife and held it out in front of her. Whoever it was, would be able to see she had a weapon, even if it wasn't much use.

Whoever it was cried out. He had to be close by, but she still couldn't see him. The next thing she heard was the thump of someone hitting the ground. Then, out of nowhere, Ian appeared on the floor by her feet. "Ian!" Barbara dropped the penknife as she bent down to him. He lifted his head, but whatever he was about to say was subsumed in a coughing fit. Barbara helped him sit up so he could breathe and eventually his coughing gave way to deep breaths.

"I knew you'd come back for me," he said, as he smiled and hugged her.

She realised, as she held him close, relieved to find him alive, that he smelt of smoke and his clothes were damp. But she hadn't seen any smoke and neither could she smell any elsewhere. He was shivering too, so she let go of him. "I found your initials," she said, unbuttoning her coat.

He frowned. "Where?"

She took her coat off and draped it over his shoulders. He wouldn't be able to get it done up, but it might stop him freezing to death. He smiled and pulled it around himself. "Carved on the trees," she said, picking up the penknife, with the blade still sticking out.

He shook his head. "I didn't do that."

If Ian didn't do it then someone must have. But there was still no one around here, other than Ian. "I'll show you." He must have done it and he had just forgotten, that was the only explanation.

There weren't many trees on the path back to the TARDIS, so she was sure she could remember which ones his initials were on. But when they reached the first, the carving had gone. "It was here." She ran her fingers over the area just below her eye line.

"You must have been mistaken," he said good-naturedly.

"No!" She resented the suggestion she was making it up, even if that hadn't been what he meant. He put an hand on her shoulder and she sighed, recognising that she'd overreacted. "Why do you smell of smoke?" she asked instead.

"I started a fire for warmth," he said. "But I feel asleep and it spread. For a moment I didn't think I was going to get out of there alive, but someone threw water on the fire near me and half on me." They both looked back in the direction he'd come from. There was no fire there now and no sign there had ever been one. "Funny thing is, I thought I heard Vicki's voice."

"The Doctor and Vicki didn't come in this direction." It wasn't unreasonable that he had imagined her voice, but what with the other strange things going on, perhaps Vicki really was there. When their eyes met, Barbara took his hand. It was cold in hers. This planet had gone from eerie to spooky and she was glad Ian was with her. "Let's get back to the TARDIS," she suggested. Perhaps the Doctor would be able to solve this mystery. "I have to meet the Doctor and Vicki back there in..." She trailed off as she looked at her watch. "When I left the TARDIS it was ten past two," she said, at Ian's questioning look. "Now it's five past."

He inclined his head and she held her arm up so he could see the time. "That can't be right."

It couldn't, but her watch was still ticking and even if it had lost time, it couldn't go backwards on its own. However, it gave her an idea. "What if the carvings aren't here because no one has made them yet?" It was a crazy suggestion, but she had been to places before she was born. They just usually involved travelling in the TARDIS, not walking across a deserted planet.

He sighed. "I don't know."

Sure she was right, she dug the blade of the penknife into the wood and dragged it down to make an 'I'. The 'C' was harder, but when it came out, it looked just like she remembered. She looked up at Ian afterwards, but he didn't say anything, just shook his head.

She led him to the next tree to carve his initials and the next. The silence in the absence of birds and insects, along with the cold made her hand shake and she dropped the penknife after she finished the third one.

Ian took her hands and rubbed them with his thumbs. "I'll do it," he said, although his hands were no warmer than hers. When he put his hand in his trouser pocket, he pulled out an identical penknife. Barbara's eyes widened when she saw it. "I think you were right," he said. "This wasn't here earlier."

Barbara nodded, but the knowledge didn't comfort her now.

Having to stop to initial the trees meant their journey back to the Ship took longer than Barbara's trip out. They were both shivering by the time they reached it. Fortunately the Doctor hadn't locked the door and they entered the warmth within with matching sighs of relief.

Barbara looked at her watch. It hadn't yet been half an hour, but the Doctor and Vicki must have been back here. A hose was stretched across the console room and there were patches of water on the floor. Barbara couldn't tell what any of it might have been for, so she didn't worry about it for now and resolved to ask when she saw the others. In the meantime she fetched some blankets from the cupboard. Ian smiled as he took one from her and wrapped it around himself. Barbara took her coat back and did the same, but she still shivered, only partly from the cold.

"Come here," Ian said, opening his blanket.

Barbara stepped into his arms. He was no warmer than she was, but she rested her head against his shoulder. His cardigan felt icy beneath her cheek. Now they were both safe she could give in to her fears about never seeing him again. She wasn't sure how cold you had to be to get hypothermia, or just how cold it was out there, but she didn't think Ian had been far off it. Even though the Doctor got them back to the planet, if she hadn't found him when she did, it might have been too late for him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about it and refused to cry. He was safe now and that was all that mattered. After a few minutes she stopped shivering, although Ian didn't.

She was just starting to feel comfortable when the doors burst open. As she sprang away from Ian she wrapped the blanket more securely around herself. The smell of smoke wafted in along with the Doctor and Vicki. They both looked unharmed, if a little sooty. "What happened?" she asked them.

"We put out a fire," Vicki said, sounding excited. "Although I don't know why it didn't go out on its own, there's hardly anything out there to burn."

"You don't know that." The Doctor pointed a finger at her. "Just because you can't see it doesn't mean there's nothing there."

Ian smiled at their familiar bickering and hugged Vicki hello.

Barbara stepped closer to the Doctor. "There's something wrong with time," she said.

"Oh, you noticed that, did you?" the Doctor said, as if it was obvious. "Time swirls about on this planet, the same way the wind does on Earth. That's why the Ship took off. We'd caught up with ourselves." He pulled a lever, the doors closed and the Ship took off, just as it had before.

"It's like in the Space Museum," Ian said, understanding dawning on him.

Ian appearing out of nowhere was certainly similar, Barbara thought.

"No, nothing like that." The Doctor sounded cross. "It's perfectly simple."

Barbara rolled her eyes at Ian, who smiled. Vicki giggled.

The Doctor made a "Hmph," noise and gave them up as a lost cause. "Now, I suggest we all go somewhere warm next, hmm?"

That would be nice, if only the Doctor could control where they went.

"And you, young man will remember not to wander off in future." Despite his stern tone, there was a hint of a smile on his face. He was clearly pleased to see Ian unharmed, even if he wasn't going to admit it.

"Of course, Doctor." Ian gave Barbara a conspiratorial smile. "As long as I have you to save me, I'll be all right," he whispered to her.

"You've no right to put us in here!" Jessica struggled in the policeman's grasp as he propelled her along the corridor behind Jo and didn't stop shouting even when he closed the door, leaving her and Jo inside.

Jo sat quietly on the bed and waited until the young woman calmed down. It took a minute or two of her pounding on the door with her fists and shouting before she gave in and turned round, leaning her back against the door. Jessica's hands were red, but she kept them clenched and she looked like she was ready to hit someone. Jo sighed, knowing what was going to happen next. She'd met women like Jessica before.

Jessica was a newcomer to the world of environmental activism. She was fresh out of university and enthusiastic about changing the world. All Jo ever required was some passion, since the rest came later, so she'd happily brought Jessica along to the G8 protest. Jo planned to hold Jessica up as an example of how young people were prepared to fight, albeit peacefully, for the world their grandparents had created.

The media loved her which made Jo's job that much easier. Even Jo had to admit Jessica was more photogenic than Cliff. The trouble was that Jessica liked the attention a little too much. Jo realised she should have seen the signs earlier, but she hadn't wanted to see what was right in front of her.

Earlier today a group of people had decided that peaceful protest was getting them nowhere. There were always a few people like that, but this time Jessica was right in the middle of them. Jo had been unsuccessfully trying to stop her from throwing things at the police when the riot police arrived and arrested them all.

Now all they had to do was wait until Cliff bailed them out, but Jessica was too impatient for that.

"We can't let them treat us like this," Jessica said, her voice low and threatening.

Jo shook her head. "They're only doing their job."

"Because they're in it with the establishment." Jessica started pacing across the cell.

Jo wished she'd given Jessica more of an education before she brought her here. But Jessica was a bright girl and she'd sounded like she understood. "Who do you think is going to change things around here?"

Jessica shrugged. "Not the politicians we've got."

"Maybe not." Jo leaned back against the wall, watching Jessica and wondering when she would run out of energy enough to stay still. "But we can't just continue killing the planet while we wait for a different set to lobby."

Now Jessica halted mid-step and stared at her cell mate. "But you weren't doing anything."

Jo stood to face her. "We've been explaining what's wrong and giving them ideas of how to solve it. And the media attention we get puts more pressure on them to do something."

"Violent protest gets more media coverage." Jessica took a step forward, but Jo hadn't been intimidated by taller people since she was a child.

It was sad that Jessica was correct, but it didn't help their cause. "It doesn't get you the right coverage," she pointed out. "The public's sympathies are with the people having things thrown at them, not those doing the throwing."

"Maybe I should do it my way and you should do it yours and we'll leave each other alone." She turned her back on Jo.

Jo had hoped that by manoeuvring herself into getting locked up with Jessica would give her time to talk some sense into the girl. She stepped forward and put a hand on Jessica's arm. "Your grandfather will be disappointed to hear that," she said softly.

Jessica threw her hands up and stepped away from Jo's grasp. "Everyone's disappointed. Nothing I do is good enough for you, is it?"

"Oh, Jessica." She sighed. "I am proud of you. You've done what you want to do, not what everyone expects of you. Just like your father." She smiled, equally proud of him too.

Jessica turned back to Jo, angry again. "But it's all right to do what I want to, as long as it's what you want me to do, is that it?"

This was getting her nowhere, so Jo matched Jessica's tone. "If you're so determined to do the wrong thing, even when you can see it's wrong, then fine, you carry on." She sat back down and folded her arms, before adding, "I just think you should be sure what you're getting yourself into."

"What do you mean?" Jessica frowned.

Jo smiled and didn't say anything, just waited patiently. Jessica started pacing again, but didn't engage Jo in any more conversation. After an agonising ten minutes, the policeman returned and opened the door.

"You're free to go," he said to Jo.

Jo stood and stepped out of the cell, not looking back.

"Wait!" Jessica stood in the doorway, preventing the policeman from closing the door. "You're not leaving me in here."

Jo turned back to face her. "If you carry on the way you are you'll spend a lot more time in cells. I think you ought to find out what it's like before you make a choice." At least this cell was a pretty good one, and Jo had seen a lot to compare it with.

"I'm sorry, Gran," Jessica said, sounding desperate.

Jo shook her head. She wanted to believe Jessica, but it would take more than that before she really understood. A night in a cell might teach her a lesson. "I'll pick you up in the morning," she promised. She wasn't so heartless she could just forget about her. She nodded to the policeman, who closed the door on a now unresisting Jessica.

Jo tried not to think about the look on her granddaughter's face as she made her way out.

She hadn't felt anything peculiar before it happened and now she was just cold and wet, so she opted for going indoors where it was at least dry. Inside was an ordinary kitchen, albeit one built for giants. And a few decades out of date too, based on what she could see from this angle. It looked familiar, but she couldn't place it. Based on its size she had visions of being in Jack and the Beanstalk land, which made her afraid to call out to whoever might live here, so she tiptoed to the other end of the kitchen, listening for any giants crying "Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum," as she went.

"Sarah Jane, there you are."

Sarah stopped dead and looked up at the woman who had spoken. It was her Aunt Lavinia, although much younger and much taller. Maybe this was some sort of Brobdingnag in the past. Which made as much sense as anything else at the moment.

"Less than a day in this house and I'd already lost you," Aunt Lavinia said fondly. "And you're all wet. What were you doing out in the rain?"

Sarah shook her head. She didn't have a good answer for what was going on. She was supposed to be going to dinner with Harry, but having just got back from a job, she'd been running late as usual. She'd only stepped outside to see how cold it was, then she smelt the rain. None of which explained how she got here.

Aunt Lavinia sighed. "Let's get you out of those wet things." She put an arm around Sarah's shoulders, so Sarah had no choice but to go with her up the stairs. Despite Aunt Lavinia's size Sarah felt safe around her. Although she told herself she shouldn't, because Aunt Lavinia could be anyone in disguise, so she tried to stay on her guard.

"I'll get a towel," Aunt Lavinia said, then left Sarah in the bedroom.

It was definitely her bedroom. Now she knew where she was she knew why she recognised the rest of the house. Her bedroom looked exactly as Sarah remembered when she was little. The bed had white sheets on it, the chest of drawers was at the other end of the room and the curtains had blue flowers on. There was even her teddy propped up beside her pillow. He looked newer than she remembered - he had been falling apart by the time Aunt Lavinia convinced her to get rid of him.

Sarah started when she looked round and saw the full-length mirror by the door. The reflection in it was her childhood self. As she stepped forward and reached out to touch it, it was clear that it was an ordinary mirror and she was looking at herself. It explained why everything looked so big, but not how she ended up in her younger body and back in time.

She turned away from the mirror just as Aunt Lavinia came back with a towel. "Let's get your hair dry." She started rubbing at Sarah's hair and Sarah ducked out of her reach.

"I can do it," Sarah complained, putting her arms up to stop Aunt Lavinia getting near her head again.

"All right." Aunt Lavinia seemed happy about that and handed the towel over. "Can you dress yourself too?"

Sarah was about to say that of course she could, when she remembered she was just a child and she should sound like a child. Which would be fine if she knew what she'd sounded like at this age. She didn't know at what point small children said proper sentences and how many long words she was likely to know. So she just said, "Yes."

Aunt Lavinia nodded. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

After she left Sarah dried her hair on the towel and found a t-shirt and some dungarees in a drawer. Getting dressed took more effort than usual, because this body didn't work in the way she was used to. And everything was a different size, even if her clothes were in proportion.

Afterwards, she went down the stairs cautiously, still unsure how she was supposed to behave. Once she reached the living room she found it didn't matter because Aunt Lavinia was leaning against the fireplace, handkerchief in one hand, crying. Sarah didn't remember ever seeing Aunt Lavinia cry before.

At her entrance Aunt Lavinia looked up and dried her eyes on her handkerchief. "Don't mind me, Sarah Jane." She sat on the sofa and gave Sarah a small smile.

Sarah abandoned her caution and went over to sit next to her. She'd never thought before that Aunt Lavinia would have been upset at her brother's death. You didn't when you were a child. In Lavinia's position Sarah thought she would probably have been overwhelmed. It couldn't have been easy to be mourning your brother while having to look after your five year old niece. So Sarah leaned over and hugged her aunt.

Aunt Lavinia hugged her back. "You're a good girl, Sarah Jane."

Sarah smiled up at her. There was a part of her that was glad to be spending some time with Aunt Lavinia. They were rarely in the same place at the same time these days, and as much as Sarah liked Moreton Harwood, it wasn't home the same way this house had become.

Aunt Lavinia wasn't one for such displays of sentiment, so a few moments later she said, "I think it's time for tea. Are you hungry, Sarah Jane?"

Sarah nodded, thinking it was far better for Aunt Lavinia to think she was unusually quiet, rather than sounding oddly like an adult. But she wasn't interested in playing like a child with whatever toys she had here while her aunt cooked, so she asked, "Can I help?"

Aunt Lavinia smiled. "Of course you can."

It turned out that being in a child's body meant she couldn't reach much and Aunt Lavinia wouldn't allow her near a sharp knife, so Sarah's help mostly consisted of working the egg-timer and tasting things. Although that was about her usual level of skill when it came to cooking, even when she was an adult, so she didn't mind.

After dinner they played cards, although Sarah had to let Aunt Lavinia suggest the game. She suspected that at the age she looked now she wouldn't have known gin rummy or poker. Snap turned out to be surprisingly hard to play as an adult and Aunt Lavinia wasn't inclined to let Sarah win.

Bedtime was earlier than Sarah expected, but she was more tired than she would have thought this early in the evening. Maybe it was this body needing more sleep or maybe it was the effect of being brought here. She lay in bed trying to sleep and worried about what she was going to do tomorrow before she realised she wouldn't be here tomorrow.

She remembered coming to Aunt Lavinia's house the day after her parents died, once they let her out of hospital. She'd gone outside, smelt something she couldn't place, and ended up outside another house she didn't recognise. Eventually a strange, but kind old man who'd known her name had looked after her. He'd told her a story too and in the morning she'd woken up back here.

When she finally fell asleep she dreamed her parents death all over again. So it came as a relief when Aunt Lavinia opening Sarah's bedroom door a crack to check on her woke her up. Her heart was racing and she sat up.

"You're supposed to be asleep," Aunt Lavinia said, although she came in and sat on the edge of Sarah's bed anyway.

"I was. But I had a bad dream." She hoped that was the right phrasing. Would she have known the word 'nightmare'?

Aunt Lavinia reached for Sarah's teddy and handed it to her. "Nothing can hurt you as long as Teddy and I are here."

Sarah smiled and lay back down. She knew nothing bad was going to happen, otherwise she'd have remembered it. "I'm glad you're here," she said, realising she'd never told Aunt Lavinia how grateful she was for looking after her after her parents died. She wished they were here, of course, but Aunt Lavinia was the next best thing.

Aunt Lavinia smiled. "I'm glad you're here too." She leaned down to kiss Sarah on the forehead, then left her to sleep.

After that, she didn't dream again.

~*~*~

When Sarah woke she could hear someone in the house. For a moment she thought it was Aunt Lavinia, until she remembered she wasn't in that house any more. She wasn't fully awake yet, so when whoever it was came closer and touched Sarah on the shoulder she didn't jump. When she opened her eyes she was glad to see Harry kneeling by the sofa. Surely she'd gone to bed in bed last night?

"How did I get here?" She sat up, yawning.

Harry studied her carefully, but avoided her question. She didn't know why. "Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, yes, please," she said with feeling.

He smiled and went to the kitchen. While he was gone Sarah inspected her surroundings. There wasn't anything out of place, but if Harry was here so early in the morning, he must have stayed the night. She only had one bedroom, but if she'd slept on the sofa, why had he slept in her bed? He was always adamant about her having the bed if either of them ever needed to stay at the other's flat.

She struggled to think back to what had happened last night, from his perspective, but it was a long time ago for her and she could only remember bits and pieces. Out of everything it was his story about the giant robot that had stuck with her. She had enjoyed it more than any of Aunt Lavinia's tales.

By the time Harry came back with tea and, unexpectedly, some toast too, she'd cleared the sofa so there was enough space for them both to sit down.

"Can you tell me what happened yesterday?" he asked, then started eating his slice of toast.

She had a sip of her tea before putting it on the coffee table and exchanging it for the plate. "It was the day after my parents died and Aunt Lavinia took me in." She bit her lip. She'd told Harry some of this, but it had been long enough ago that she hadn't had so many emotions associated with it. Now it felt like it had happened yesterday all over again. "I wish it had been the day before so I could have seen them again."

Harry looked as if he was going to say something, but the phone rang. Sarah left her toast behind and got up to answer it. If she'd given a moment's thought to who might be calling her at this time of the morning, she might have been more worried. But as it was, she didn't have any idea until the voice at the other end told her Aunt Lavinia was dead.

Sarah couldn't say much through the lump in her throat as they told her Lavinia didn't suffer. Sarah briefly promised to go to Moreton Harwood to deal with the funeral arrangements before she put the phone down. She couldn't quite believe this was all happening now and she stood by the phone, trying to work out what she should do next.

She looked over at Harry, who was staring at her with a worried expression on his face. "Aunt Lavinia's died," she told him. She wasn't sure if it was her saying it and making it real, or him hugging her, but it was then that she cried and held on tightly to him.

Eventually she managed to stop, refused Harry's offer of his handkerchief and wandered into the kitchen. She wasn't sure what she thought would be in there and it was only after she was standing in the middle of it that she remembered the mug of tea she'd left in the living room.

Outside it was raining and she was glad. It wouldn't be right for it to be bright and sunny today. She took another step and leant against the sink to watch the raindrops splatter into the puddles on the path. From Harry's reflection in the window she could see he'd followed her and not yet put his handkerchief away. "Even the weather knows," she said.

He put a hand on her shoulder and it was a comfort to know he was here and she didn't have to do this on her own. "That only happens in stories. In reality the weather does as it pleases."

Of course Harry would be practical like that, but she remembered the smell of the rain yesterday before dinner. It hadn't been normal rain - it had to be caused by something else, even if she didn't care what it was at the moment. "It was the rain that did it."

Harry said nothing. He probably didn't believe her, but she knew she was right, so she turned to face him. "Didn't you smell it?" He had been here at some point yesterday evening.

"Well, yes, I did." He frowned, still not understanding. "But--"

"It knew." She took his hands and almost managed to smile as she realised what it all meant. "It knew it was my last chance to see Aunt Lavinia and took me back there." Of course, had she known, she would have gone last night without the aid of the rain. But no one could guess the future.

"Sarah, we're not living in a story."

He squeezed her hands, which was probably supposed to be comforting. But Harry was always so disbelieving, even when the evidence was right in front of him. "And time travel is impossible," she reminded him.

He sighed. "All right, you win."

He took her back to the living room, but she couldn't face the toast now. She did manage to take the tea with her when Harry suggested she ought to get dressed at least. Once she was dressed she wondered if the odd rain was still working. So she pushed her feet into a pair of shoes and rushed outside, not stopping to close the back door. She looked up at the sky, willing the rain to take her again.

"What on earth are you doing?"

She shouldn't have been surprised Harry had followed her, given how concerned he'd looked. But Sarah only care about the rain, which smelt ordinary and wasn't going to work. "I want to go back. I want to see her again."

"Sarah." Harry reached out and put a hand on either side of her head, so she had to look at him. "Lavinia knew you loved her."

She bit her lip. He'd only met her the once, how could he know? She was sure he was right, but she still wanted to be able to tell her. "It's not fair." She leaned against him.

He put his arms around her again and stroked her hair. "Life isn't. The good guys don't always win."

Except in Harry's stories. In his world the good guys always won and evil was always vanquished. Sarah wished she could live in that world, for a while, like she had when she was five years old and found herself here. "And the robot doesn't always live."

At his silence she lifted her head to look at him. He looked shocked that she remembered that. She wanted to laugh at his expression, but settled for a grin and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for all he'd done the past couple of days, and all she'd need him to do now she didn't have Aunt Lavinia any more.

He thought he was running from one until he ran into an old police box that was bigger on the inside.

"Hello," the man in the question mark jumper said. "Would you like to see the universe? I'll have you home in time for tea."

How could Kenny say no?

Coming Back
"Kenny, where have you been?"

Since he'd been missing for a week, Kenny thought Lynda might have been pleased to see him. "You'll never believe me." He grinned as he sat at his desk.

She put her pen down and glared at him. "I've had to run this paper all on my own, I've had police question me about your whereabouts and Spike's been bringing a different girlfriend in here every day."

Kenny smiled. "I've missed you too, boss."

"Well, don't make a habit of disappearing. I need you." Lynda smiled for a moment, before going back to her editing.

"Daddy," Johnny whispered, "there's a Dalek in my wardrobe."

According to Johnny there were all manner of monsters hiding in his room just waiting to ambush him. Ian regularly had to make his bedroom safe, but this was the first time the monster was something real. As he struggled to wake up properly he briefly wondered if there really was a Dalek in the house. But he was sure he'd know if the Daleks had invaded two hundred years early.

"All right," he said and stumbled out of bed. As he found his dressing gown and slippers in the dark, he thought about how to deal with this particular monster so Johnny would feel safe enough to go back to sleep.

Johnny followed Ian to his room, but stayed in the doorway. Ian yawned and opened the wardrobe, making sure he was between it and Johnny. He didn't feel up to searching the room for Daleks in the middle of the night. Having established there was nothing living in there, he shut the door and turned to his son. "There is a Dalek in there," he said. "But I think it's just exploring."

"But it wants to kill me," Johnny said, loud enough to wake Barbara up.

Ian shushed him. So much for that idea. "I won't let it," he promised. He looked around the room and spotted the cheap radio they'd bought Johnny for his birthday. "Do you remember I told you that Daleks use static electricity to get around?"

Johnny nodded.

"If we disrupt that, the Dalek will be paralysed and it won't be able to do anything." He hoped that would be good enough and he wouldn't need to prove it had gone.

Johnny thought about that for a minute before saying, "How do we do that?"

"We can use the wires in this plug." He picked the radio up. "Can you get me a screwdriver?"

Johnny ran off downstairs sounding like a herd of elephants. If Barbara wasn't already awake, she would be by now. Ian was just glad that although Johnny was scared of imaginary monsters in his bedroom, he would happily go downstairs in the dark on his own without a second thought. Now was not the time to wonder why.

While Johnny was downstairs Ian put a toy dinosaur in the wardrobe. He'd never described a Dalek in much detail and with the lights off, odd shapes could become anything. Even a Dalek.

Once Johnny came back and handed Ian the screwdriver from his toolbox, Ian set to work dismantling the plug on the radio. Johnny's curiosity overcame his fear and he peered over his father's shoulder as he worked. Fortunately, Ian had wired plugs a few times before and the half-light in Johnny's room was just enough to see by. On their own the wires inside the plug wouldn't do much, but Johnny didn't know that. By the time Johnny learnt more about how electricity worked there wouldn't be any more imaginary monsters in his bedroom to dispose of. "You should stand back," he said to Johnny, once he had the plug off.

Johnny went back to the doorway, wide-eyed.

Ian opened the wardrobe door and thrust the wires in. Since it had no real effect, he had to make the crackling noises himself. After a few seconds he stopped and said, "It's dead. Come and see."

Johnny peered around his father to look at the dinosaur half-hidden by clothes.

Ian held his breath while he waited for Johnny to agree that a non-moving dinosaur was a dead Dalek. At last Johnny said, "Thank you, Daddy."

Ian smiled at him. "Now you should go back to bed." At least Johnny didn't require disposal of dead monsters.

Johnny went to bed willingly, and Ian tucked him in before going back to his own bed. He left the screwdriver on the bedside table - he could put that away in the morning once he'd put the plug back on Johnny's radio. He discovered Barbara wasn't asleep when she moved closer to him and he put an arm around her, glad of her warmth.

"What was it this time?" she whispered.

"A Dalek in the wardrobe."

Barbara stiffened. "I told you not to tell him scary stories."

When Johnny asked for a story at bedtime they'd taken turns telling him tales of their adventures with the Doctor, but had left out the parts where it all looked hopeless and they nearly died. There was no need to scare him that much. "He likes scary stories. And I leave out the worst parts. Can we please have this argument in the morning?" Ian yawned again.

She pulled away from him, back to her side of the bed. "And you indulge him far too much. What were you doing in there tonight?"

He sighed. Apparently, they were going to have this argument now, in whispers, in bed in the middle of the night. "Electrocuting the Dalek. And I've tried just telling him it's not there. It doesn't work and he just ends up in our bed. Would you rather he did that?"

"No," she admitted, sounding begrudging about it.

"I'm just doing the best thing for you and Johnny." He reached out to take her hand and she let him.

"I know. But you could still tell him stories that aren't going to end up with him getting you up in the night."

She did have a point there. "I will," he promised and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Oh, and there's a dinosaur in his wardrobe you'll have to take out in the morning."

"Yes," Johnny replied, as he always did, regardless of whether he had been good or not.

But today something was different and Ian realised he could hear voices coming from the living room. "Do we have visitors?"

Johnny nodded. "The Doctor's playing with my train."

Ian blinked. Johnny didn't call anyone he knew the Doctor and Ian had an odd image of an old man playing like a child. But there was no point imagining the scene, when he could easily find out, so he pushed open the living room door. Inside was a man who looked younger than the Doctor they'd met a few years ago and he was rearranging Johnny's train track. It was designed to have just enough pieces to go in an oval and Johnny had always been happy with that arrangement. Ian wondered why this man would try, but there was something in his expression that reminded him of the Doctor, which would explain a lot.

He realised Johnny was trying to get down, so he let him go back to his train and turned to the other occupants of the room. A red-headed girl and a man sat on the sofa drinking tea. Barbara, who was sitting on the room's only armchair, smiled at him.

"Ian," she said, "this is Amy and Rory."

Ian shook hands with them and wondered, if they were with the Doctor, when they were from. "You haven't lost your TARDIS again, Doctor?" he asked, as he perched on the arm of the chair.

The Doctor at last looked up from the track he was failing to make. "Oh no, I know exactly where it is. I haven't come to ask anything from you this time, Chesterton, I've come to give you something. Well, Rory has."

All eyes turned to Rory, who pulled a small box out of one pocket. "I believe this is yours," he said, and held it out to Ian.

Ian didn't recognise it at all until he took it and opened it. Inside was a ring he remembered buying several years ago. "It's the engagement ring I bought you on Perashaw," he said to Barbara, showing her. It had been just after their trip to China when she'd asked him to marry her when they got home. When he'd seen the jewellery stall in the market he'd been determined that she should have a ring to go with his promise.

"I think you'll find I bought it," the Doctor said. "It was my money."

Ian looked at the ring and then back at the Doctor. "Only because I didn't have any local currency." He'd had every intention of re-paying the Doctor when he'd had the chance, but he'd never had the opportunity. At the time he thought he'd been discreet enough that the Doctor hadn't known what he'd needed to borrow the money for. He should have known better. "I will pay you back." He pulled his wallet out. The Doctor was bound to need some currency from this time. "How much was it?" He pulled out the notes in there and was dismayed to find he only had ten pounds. He'd wanted to spend more on Barbara than that.

"About ten pounds," the Doctor said and Ian looked at him suspiciously. "I can sell it for ten times the amount in the future."

Barbara gave Ian the same look she gave Johnny when he was about to misbehave. Ian had been married for long enough now to know that it was usually best to do as he was told. And if Barbara was happy with the amount he'd spent on her ring, then he would be too. Besides, he didn't want the Doctor to have bought her engagement ring, so he handed over the money and put his wallet away.

Barbara asked Rory, "Where did you find it?"

Ian suspected Barbara was changing the subject on purpose, but he was curious about where it had been and happy enough not to think about the money.

"I was exploring the TARDIS and I found a corridor of rooms with names on them. This was in the room with 'Barbara' on the door. I wasn't prying, I was just curious."

Amy and Barbara both smiled forgiveness at him. The Doctor went red and looked away. Ian wondered what that was all about.

"We didn't take anything with us when we left," Barbara explained. "We just saw our chance and took it. I forgot all about this." She looked over at Ian apologetically.

"There were more important things to think about," he said softly. He'd rather have her than the ring any day.

"Didn't you wear it?" Amy asked.

"I didn't want to lose it," Barbara replied. "I thought it would be safer on the Ship."

Amy's right hand went to her left and Ian noticed the two rings there. Curious, he moved his gaze to Rory and found a matching ring there. He smiled and turned to Barbara. "I should give this back to you," he said to her, taking the ring out of the box.

Obligingly, Barbara held out her left hand. Although Ian had done this twice before, once with this ring and once on their wedding day, sliding the ring onto her finger felt just as thrilling. When it was done he looked up to find they had matching smiles and he leaned down to kiss her.

"Done!" the Doctor said, breaking the moment.

Ian looked over at the track, which now went in a figure of eight pattern. He frowned trying to work out how the Doctor had done it. The piece in the middle hadn't existed before today, he was sure of it. Johnny, on the other hand wasn't bothered by the impossibility of what the Doctor had just done. He was happy enough to push his train along the track and provide the appropriate sounds.

"We should go," the Doctor said, standing up.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Barbara suggested.

"No, we couldn't. I promised to take Amy clothes shopping."

Ian raised his eyebrows. He didn't remember the Doctor ever being particularly fond of shopping for clothes, although he had plenty in the Ship.

"She doesn't have any of the local currency," he added, at Ian's expression.

Ian had to smile at that. He no longer had any lingering doubt that this man was the Doctor.

They all said their goodbyes and the Doctor promised Johnny he'd come back and play with him again some day. After the three of them had gone Ian took Barbara's hand. "How many more times do you suppose he'll visit?"

Barbara shook her head. "And how much younger will he look each time?"

Ian had been used to thinking of him as an old man. Then, when the Doctor had visited with Martha he'd been around Ian's age and now he looked much younger. "We'll just have to wait and find out," he said with a smile. The Doctor's visits were almost as much of an adventure as travelling with him had been.

Notes: Barbara asks Ian to marry her when they get home at the end of the The Eleventh Tiger. The Eighth Doctor says he's got rid of the corridor of old companion's bedrooms in Relative Dimensions. The idea that the Tenth Doctor and Martha visit Ian and Barbara when they're stuck in 1969 during Blink comes from various fanfics.

"Who are you?" The Doctor stares at him. Sam's a little daunted by the attention.

"Harry Sullivan." That's the name of the man he's leaped into.

"No, you're not."

Pretending to be someone else isn't always easy, so Sam's glad to hear the sound of the Imaging Chamber and the squawk of the handlink that tells him Al is back. "Who else would I be?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked. And I'd like to know how you got on my ship." The Doctor turns to face Al, who goes wide-eyed at the attention.

"You can see me?" Al asks.

"Of course, I can." The Doctor sounds hurt at the suggestion.

"Oh, boy." This is clearly going to be one of those leaps. "I'm Sam Beckett." Al looks horrified, but Sam figures he might as well give it a go.

"The playwright?"

Sam shakes his head. "The quantum physicist." Among other things, but that's what counts at the moment.

The Doctor smiles at him, which just unnerves Sam all the more. "The time traveller. You leap from life to life, fixing what once went wrong."

Sam blinks and looks over to Al, who is hitting the handlink. "Who would I tell?" Al says and he has a point.

"So tell me," the Doctor continues, "what are you here for?"

"I don't know." He does, but it's not something you blurt out. It has to be handled delicately. Especially given that Ziggy can't tell them what the Doctor is feeling or give them very reliable odds.

But the Doctor goes around behind Al and reads the handlink over his shoulder. Al is so used to not being seen that he doesn't move away, just frowns at him.

"Sarah Jane's in love with me?" the Doctor says.

Sam gives Al a look. Al shrugs.

"We'll see about that." And with that, the Doctor wrenches open the door and disappears into the ship.

Sam sighs. Everything that could go wrong on this leap has gone wrong. And now he has to fix it.

"How am I supposed to know that aliens can see me?" Al says in his defense.

Al has a point. Until now they hadn't even known aliens existed. "What are the odds in me succeeding now?" Sam asks, sounding as tired as he suddenly feels. He's going to have to do something different and he has no idea what.

Al hits the handlink a few times before he comes up with an answer he looks shocked to read. "One hundred percent."

"What?" Sam can't believe that.

"That's what it says." Al holds the handlink up so Sam can read it for himself and Al's right, it does say one hundred percent.

Wondering where the Doctor went, Sam tiptoes through the door. And there, just around the corner is the Doctor in the corridor. And he's kissing Sarah Jane.

Sam exchanges a smile with Al. This is the easiest leap he's ever had.

"But their skin is see-through." He does say it quietly, so the aliens won't hear.

"Are an alien's insides really that interesting?" Sarah asks in his ear.

Harry nods. "You see, they're up-side down. Their lungs and heart are towards the bottom of their torso and their intestines are at the top."

"Are you saying what I think you are?" She looks worried.

"If it's that we shouldn't go to their feast in our honour, then yes."

Even the Doctor looks horrified now and it's not long before they're safely inside the TARDIS again.

Barbara's perfectly happy to give a history lesson, here on the streets of Victorian London. "Things were different back then. Now." Time travel confuses the tenses. "It wasn't done to go anywhere with someone of the opposite sex without a chaperone."

"We have the Doctor and Vicki," he points out.

But the two of them have just gone into the Ship and haven't been in the same shops as them. "And," she continues, "there was no touching either."

He shifts his arm, so it's no longer linked with hers, and takes her hand instead. When she looks at him, he's grinning.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't let go.

"They must have led very boring lives," he says. She's about to protest when he speaks over her. "I suppose that means I can't do this either." He kisses her.

She's aware, as she kisses him back, of people watching them. "Certainly not. You have a lot to learn about Victorian England."

"But I have a very good teacher to tell me about it."

She can hardly say no to that.

The Doctor sighed as Jo leaned over and blocked his light.

"Can I help?" she asked, before he can answer her first question.

He put down his instruments and looked up at her. "I'm attempting to calibrate the friction contrafibulator." He knew she wouldn't understand.

"It's just that I ordered some benzoquinone. I thought it might help." She placed a bag of something on the bench.

The Doctor stared at her in amazement. "Jo, that's the very thing."

She grinned.

This time, when he went back to work, he explained it as he went along.

But he had to stop when Barbara shouted. "This isn't a fight to the death," she said, "and you're bleeding."

He hadn't noticed, but now she'd pointed it out, the cut on his arm did hurt. Since the fight had well and truly been stopped, he sat down and allowed Barbara to tend to his wounds. He didn't know what she was using, but whatever she pressed to his arm stung and he winced.

"Don't be such a baby," she said.

"It hurts," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "Men."

Her faith in his sex was misplaced because Rory shouted, "Call it a draw?"

Ian stood to shake his hand. "A draw," he agreed, which at least made Barbara smile.

~*~

Rory's sword was heavy as it lifted it for a blow, but the slave blocked it. He was tired, but he couldn't give in. He had to show Amy he didn't just look the part.

But he had to stop when Amy shouted, "Rory, that's enough. You'll kill yourself if you're not careful."

The sword fell through his fingers and dropped to the ground with a clang.

Amy dabbed at the wound on his arm with a hanky that had seen better days.

"You're just putting dirt in it."

She sighed and stopped. "Neither of you are going to win," she said. "If you stop now you can just say it was a draw."

He knew he'd never hear the end of it, so he shouted, "Call it a draw?"

Ian nodded and they shook hands. Rory was glad: there were far better things he could do in this outfit.