He'd had a plan for Baranur's foal before she'd given birth, but twins were something special and his sons had been eyeing up the ponies for a while now, wanting one of their own. Another foal would replace Baranur's and he could give Elladan and Elrohir a special foal each.

2.
There were many who disliked having thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and Gandalf staying in Rivendell. They were different to what most of the residents were used to these days: they ate a lot, they were loud and their stories were often bawdy. Worst of all, Gandalf encouraged them. It almost seemed as if there were dwarves everywhere in the Last Homely House.

But Elrond welcomed them. He had seen mostly elves for many years, so he was delighted to meet dwarves again and to make the acquaintance of a hobbit. Rivendell would get used to their guests, he was sure.

3.
Elrond stood in the shadows of a nearby balcony watching Aragorn take his leave of Arwen. He'd had high hopes for them both, but separately. Now the time drew near when Aragorn would either be king or would fall and Arwen was bound up in his fate.

She was more precious to him than anything else in Middle-earth, save for his sons. Yet he knew he would give her up in the end, for Aragorn would need her at his side. And if Elrond took her from him she would never forgive him and he would still lose his daughter.

4.
There were still too many people around, so when Elrond spied a chance, he excused himself, grabbed Celebrían's hand and pulled her into a dark corner. "I want you all to myself," he said, once he'd reminded himself how much he liked kissing her.

She smiled. "You will later."

His only reply was a sigh.

"You are the Lord of Rivendell. All desire to share in your wedding day. And," she added, when he opened his mouth to protest, "you want to share your joy with them."

"You are wise," he agreed. But the night was still too far off.

"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.

Sybil grinned and twirled. "What do you think?"

"No one would know it was you," Mary replied.

"That is the reason we're dressed up," Edith pointed out.

It was also why Mary was wearing one of Anna's borrowed maid's outfits, which was a little too short, but it would do as long as no one looked too closely. Edith had somehow managed to get hold of a long blonde wig and a silver dress that shone in the light.

"You're very dressed up," Mary said to her.

"I'm hiding in plain sight."

"No one will be able to see your face, they'll be blinded by your dress."

"Please don't argue," Sybil interrupted. "We're here for a reason, remember?"

"All right." Mary felt that as the eldest she should be leading them.

But before she could say anything Sybil called out, "Over there." She pointed at the flower shop on the other side of the street and while Mary looked Sybil was already crossing the road.

Mary gave in. Sometimes it was easier to do that with Sybil.

Two hours later they were home and had everything they needed. None of them got much sleep that night, but it was worth it in the morning when Papa and Mama awoke to the decorations around the house.

All three of them peered out of their bedroom doors as they watched their parents discover the candles, flowers and banners in any spare space they'd been able to find by candlelight.

"Thank you, Cora," Papa said, and kissed Mama.

"I didn't do it," Mama replied. "I thought it was you."

"Then who was it?" Papa sounded puzzled, but the sisters had agreed to leave it a mystery. After all, their parents didn't celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary every day and this was the one thing they'd all been able to agree on in months.

"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?

Mary put her hands on the edge of the crib and stood on tip-toe as she peered in. She made a face at what she saw. The new baby wore lots of frilly white and looked up at her as if Mary were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. Which might well be the case. She sighed. "Another baby." She'd known Mama was having a baby, of course, but she'd hoped it would be more exciting than this.

"I'm not a baby," Edith complained, from beside her. Sybil's gaze transferred to her other sister and Edith smiled down at her.

Mary looked round at her younger sister - one of her younger sisters - who was copying Mary's pose to be able to see into the crib. "At least you do something. Sybil just lies there." One sister was enough, no one needed two. What was she supposed to do with two sisters?

"She's boring," Edith agreed. She let go of the crib and turned around. "I'm going to play."

Edith sounded so grand, but she wasn't, she was only two and Mary was the eldest. But there was only so long you could look at a baby, so Mary followed her sister, who walked sedately out of the nursery and then ran along the corridor.

Outside, they could pretend they didn't have another sister. They forgot about Sybil completely as they chased each other, shouting and laughing. Until they were told off for playing under the open nursery window and waking the baby. After that, Mary vowed she was never going to like Sybil, no matter what.

Because they were such good friends they always played nicely together.

"Sybil, no!"

Now Sybil was older she wasn't boring any more; she was annoying instead. Mary much preferred Sybil to be in another part of the house, where she didn't have to see her, especially when she was playing with Edith.

They'd chosen Ludo, which Sybil couldn't possibly have been interested in, but she kept walking over and stealing the dice or the counters. It was impossible to play with her around. With all the servants they had, Mary didn't see why someone else couldn't have minded Sybil while their nurse was at home with her sick mother, but Mama had shut them all in a room and told them all to play nicely together. Which was a vain hope to begin with, given that Mary and Edith were both only pleasant to each other when they won.

In a fit of temper at Sybil spoiling their game by moving one of Mary's counters, Mary upended the board, sending the counters flying.

"I was winning!" Edith shouted, as she kicked the board back at Mary, which hit her in the shin.

Sybil started crying. Mary knew someone would hear and Mama would come to tell them off. She also knew she would get the blame, even though it was Sybil's fault, so she ran away to hide in Carson's office.

He was in there when she arrived. He stopped writing, stood up and smiled at her as she entered. "Lady Mary." He placed his pen down on his desk. "What can I do for you today?"

Mary sat on the chair opposite his desk with a long-suffering sigh. "I wish I didn't have any sisters."

Carson sat too and there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Then who would you play with?"

She shrugged. "I'd find someone." But she didn't know who. None of the grown-ups ever had time to play Ludo with her. Or any other game. Grown-ups didn't play games.

"In the meantime, why not help me count the wine?" He stood up again and held out his hand.

She grinned and took it. Counting the wine with Carson was almost as much fun as playing. And he always told her how good she was at it.

They always shared all their toys and never fought over them.

"It's mine, give it back!"

"No, it's not, it's mine."

Sybil, quite unfairly, had stolen Mary's doll and had been attempting to carry it off to her hiding place to play with it. Mary, having caught her, was trying to get it back. It was only fair - it was hers after all. Now they both held one of the doll's legs, struggling to get the other to let go. Mary didn't even know why Sybil wanted her doll, but she wasn't going to let her have it.

Edith stepped in and grabbed the doll by its head. Mary turned on her, but before she could say anything, Edith, never one to miss a chance to annoy one or both of her sisters, twisted the doll's head off.

Mary dropped the leg she was holding and stared at her, horrified that Edith could do anything so awful. Sybil clutched the doll's body to her chest and burst into tears. When Sybil rushed off to tell whoever would be sympathetic (Mary could never keep track of who was Sybil's favourite), Edith smiled victoriously.

"If you're going to fight, neither of you can have it," she said, echoing Mama.

Mary glared at her, not giving Edith the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

If she'd been younger she would have done the same as Sybil and told Carson what Edith had done. Now she was older she knew that method got her sympathy for a while, but didn't allow her to escape a telling off when Papa or Mama found out what had happened. So instead she stalked off to play on her own and wait until Sybil told one or other of their parents what Edith had done. Then, when Mary was called to tell her side of the story, she would calmly explain the situation, conveniently not mentioning that she had any part in it. Then she wouldn't get any of the blame, but Edith and Sybil would get the punishment they deserved.

All three were all good girls and would never do anything not befitting their station.

Mary stood just inside the front door beside Sybil, covered in mud, her face set at the treatment she'd received. Papa hadn't even said anything yet, just looked cross as he'd hauled her and Sybil inside, but she knew she couldn't escape what was coming next.

"What were you thinking?" Papa asked, staring down at them both.

Rather than face him, Mary looked at her feet - she'd been forced to take her shoes off before she got more mud in the house.

Sybil, however, was still young enough to be scared of their father when he was angry. "We were only playing," she said.

"Only playing!" Mary chanced a look upwards to see Papa was going red. That was never a good sign. "The next time the gardener's boy teases you, come to me, don't start a fight."

"Yes, Papa." Sybil sounded contrite.

"And, you." Papa took a step to the side to stand in front of Mary, who had to look up at him now. "You should know better than to encourage her."

Of course she would get the blame, just because she stuck up for Sybil. But she knew complaining at Papa would just make this go on longer, so she said, "Yes, Papa," in the same tone as Sybil. But she wasn't sorry about what she'd done. The gardener's boy deserved what he'd got for sneering about girls.

Papa sighed, realising that he wasn't going to get any more out of them. "Don't let it happen again. Now go and have a bath before you get mud everywhere."

Mary and Sybil fled, albeit at a walking pace so Papa couldn't say anything about that. As they approached the stairs Mary saw Edith crouched down at the top of the staircase where she could hear without being seen. Mary didn't know whether she'd told Papa what they'd done or not, but she did know Edith wanted to feel that she was better than her older sister. So Mary did the one thing she could to take that away from Edith and make her sorry: she just walked past and pretended Edith wasn't there. She carried on pretending Edith wasn't there for the rest of the day. And Sybil, keen to copy her eldest sister, did the same. Mary was sure that after that, Edith would never tell on them again.

They all slept in one big bed and were very happy.

"Sybil, go back to bed."

Mary hadn't woken up when her bedroom door opened, but she did when Sybil slipped into bed beside her, pressing her cold feet against Mary's warm legs. Sybil never did like to wear slippers when no one could see her. Mary moved further over to the edge of the bed, but Sybil just followed. Mary sighed. "What do you want?"

"I had a bad dream."

Sybil did sound a little upset about it, but Mary wasn't going to turn over and look at her. "Go and see Mama, then."

"There's more room in your bed." That didn't explain why Sybil had to lie so close.

"What about Edith?" Mary still refused to move, hoping Sybil would get the hint.

"I wanted to see you."

Mary smiled in the dark because Sybil had chosen her over Edith. She would never have admitted it, but it meant she didn't make Sybil go back to her own bed. There was plenty of room in Mary's, after all. "Go to sleep, then."

"Don't you want to hear about my dream?"

She didn't want to end up not being able to go back to sleep herself. Sybil had far too good an imagination. Her dreams were odd affairs that stayed in your head and came out when you were alone in the dark. "No. Tell Mama in the morning." After that Sybil was quiet and they both slept.

There were no secrets between them.

Mary knocked on Sybil's door. It was the middle of the afternoon so Sybil was hardly likely to be doing anything in there that she didn't want Mary to see, so she opened the door without waiting for a reply and frowned as she saw Sybil and Gwen talking. That was the second time this week she'd found them shut in a room together.

Sybil turned to face her. "What do you want?" she asked, not sounding at all happy about being interrupted.

"Excuse me, my lady." Gwen nodded at Sybil and scurried out of the room.

Mary waited until she'd left before saying, "I think I left my hat in here."

Sybil sighed, then picked it up off the end of her dressing table and handed it to her sister.

Mary took the hat, but didn't leave. There was something going on and she was determined to find out what it was. "What were you two doing in here?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Sybil folded her arms.

Mary raised her eyebrows, wondering what Sybil could possibly be up to. With Sybil, anything was possible.

She shook her head. "It's not like that."

"If you won't tell me, I'll just have to guess." She smiled, but Sybil wouldn't take the bait. She stepped around Mary and left the room.

Mary watched her go. She was determined to find out what Sybil was up to. Especially if it was something she didn't want Mary to know about.

They were always understanding of each other.

"What are you going to do?" Sybil asked, as she followed Mary upstairs. She'd said she was going to help Mary unpack from London, but Mary knew she'd really wanted to gossip.

"I don't know." She shrugged, wishing there was an easy answer to this. "Avoid Matthew for as long as possible while I decide." And hope that he would be understanding when she did make a decision.

Sybil caught up and they ascended side by side. "Either you love him or you don't. If you do, then marry him. If you don't, then don't."

Mary rolled her eyes at her sister's naivety. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

There were so many reasons it was hard to know where to start, except with the most important. "I can't marry a solicitor."

Sybil frowned. "Why not?"

Mary stopped and stared at her sister. "Really, Sybil, you're not three."

"Sorry." She smiled in apology. "But I think you're over-complicating things."

Mary shook her head. Sybil still had her head so full of romantic notions, even though she was an adult. She would never be able to make her understand.

Whatever happened, they all loved each other very much.

"We'll miss you," Edith said, as she held out a dress for Sybil to pack.

Mary sat on the bed watching them both. "It won't be the same without you."

Sybil smiled as she folded the dress and placed it carefully in her suitcase. "I'll write. And you can come and visit any time you like."

Mary frowned. She couldn't imagine the world Sybil would be living in. She wondered if Sybil would even have one spare room. She certainly wouldn't have any servants. "I can't believe you're the first of us to get married."

Sybil smiled. "Neither can I. Who would look at me when I've got two older sisters?"

"The chauffeur, apparently." Mary sounded as if she was sneering, but Sybil had flattered her and she was going to miss her youngest sister, so her heart wasn't in it.

"If it's youngest first, maybe I won't be a maiden aunt after all," Edith said, forgetting the packing and leaning against one of the bedposts.

Sybil smiled at her. "Oh, you'll find someone. I know you will."

She sounded so sure that Mary and Edith both smiled back.

"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.

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile when she spotted John leaning against his car, waiting for her. After he'd spent days pestering her, she had eventually given in and agreed to go to one of Langford's football games with him. It wasn't that she didn't support the team, she just wasn't particularly keen on football and was happy to just read the results in the school paper. John, of course, was an ardent fan. When she had asked him if this weekend's game was important he had told her in a slightly shocked tone, that they were all important.

So, in retrospect, it should not have come as a big surprise to see him dressed nearly entirely in burgundy and gold, including a Langford sweatshirt and Langford scarf. She was tempted to find out what color his socks were or ask him if he had the Langford boxers on.

Elizabeth, by contrast, had just dug out her Langford t-shirt from the back of her closet. She'd bought it on a whim one day, not long after she started working there, and never really had occasion to wear it since. However, it wasn't warm enough to wear on its own, so the effect was somewhat lost when she put a jacket over it.

"Hey," he greeted her, standing up as she approached. "Don't you at least have something in school colors?"

She sighed. "Just this t-shirt." Since she hadn't yet zipped her jacket up, she opened it to show him.

There was an expression on his face for a minute that she couldn't quite decipher, but then he pulled off his scarf and wrapped it around her. She shivered when his cold hands brushed her neck. He stepped back and smiled at the effect. "That's better. And it will keep you warm too."

"Thank you," she said, resisting the temptation to ask John what laundry detergent he used, because his scarf smelled wonderful.

"Come on." He turned in the direction of the football field. "I'll buy you a hot chocolate."

She followed him. "You're just trying to get me to take my coat off, aren't you?"

He turned to smirk at her. "It's not as if you're not wearing anything under it."

"Why do all men have one-track minds?" She asked rhetorically, but smiled back anyway.

"Two," he said, calling out to her as she trailed behind him, "don't forget football!"

She rolled her eyes. He was saved from her reply, though, because he was busy buying them a hot chocolate each and stopping to have a conversation about the game with the guy selling it. Elizabeth stood off to one side, cradling her hot chocolate and looked around. There weren't that many people about and none of them wanted hot drinks yet. When John had told her what time to meet him she thought it was early, but given that he knew more about the subject than she did, she assumed she'd got the kick-off time wrong. But perhaps not.

"Why are we so early?" she asked him, when other people came looking for drinks and he was forced to tear himself away.

"So we can get the best seats." His tone of voice suggested this was obvious.

She couldn't complain about that because she'd done the same thing herself in the past, just not for football. As she sipped her drink, she let him lead them up into the stands to where he assured her was the best place to sit, although she couldn't tell why it was an improvement over most of the other seats. Once there they found Jack and Teal'c had beat them to it. They were both in Langford colors, although Jack's consisted of the baseball team's cap and jersey, which Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh at.

They exchanged greetings and Elizabeth slid in next to Jack, with John on the other side of her.

"I didn't think you were that keen on football," she said to Jack.

"Hockey is better," he confirmed, "but Teal'c's a fan and I support the team."

"I hear the new quarterback is worth watching," Teal'c put in and before she knew it he and John had launched into a discussion over her and Jack about the merits of the members of the team.

"I didn't know you liked football," Jack said to her, also tuning out the other's football conversation.

"I don't. But I was persuaded to come. And I support the team too," she added.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "So the rumors are true."

She sighed. "Not you, too."

Jack just grinned at her and Elizabeth shook her head, refusing to answer.

Luckily for her, the smell of hot dogs intruded and she started to feel hungry, even though she had eaten before she left the house. The owner of the hot dog was a good few paces behind the scent and revealed himself to be Jonas, with Daniel in tow.

"Hey, guys," Daniel said, and another round of greetings were exchanged, except for Jonas who had his mouth full. His food disappeared quickly enough, though, and he sat down next to John, who had moved on to debate the merits of the opposing team. Today they were up against the Wraith. Daniel sat behind Jack, and he and Elizabeth turned round to talk to him.

Not that they had a chance to say much before Sam and Janet arrived. If Elizabeth didn't have a good sense of self-preservation she might have accused Janet of stalking Daniel - Elizabeth was sure her appearance so soon after Daniel's arrival was unlikely to be a coincidence. So she was unsurprised to watch Janet make a beeline for Daniel and sit next to him, although Sam was happy enough to join in the football talk. Despite being at the other end of the group, Teal'c had no problem making himself heard.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jonas's pants leg had moved up and exposed a strip of what looked suspiciously like a dark yellow sock. Not quite able to believe what she was seeing, and the possibility of what she was not, despite what she had thought about John's clothes earlier, she interrupted their conversation. "Jonas, please tell me your other sock isn't dark red."

Jonas flashed her a grin and a leg, and revealed that it was exactly as bad as she suspected.

Elizabeth groaned.

John leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I've got the school boxer shorts on."

She ignored the way his breath tickled her skin. "Why does that not surprise me?" she said in a low voice. "But how can they show how big a fan you are if no one can see them?"

"All you had to do was ask." He caught hold of the waistband of his pants on the side nearest to her.

"John!" she said, shocked, and grabbed his hand before he could do anything, not quite believing that he was willing to reveal his underwear in the football stadium.

There was the sound of giggling behind them, which stopped immediately when Elizabeth turned round. "I know exactly why you're here, Janet Fraiser," she said, to divert Janet's suspicions about what she thought she'd seen.

"And why would that be?" Janet asked, in an innocent tone.

Elizabeth noticed that not only were Sam and Janet staring at her - Sam looking interested, Janet her usual combination of innocent and murderous - but Daniel had also stopped his conversation with Jack to hear her answer. Despite her law background she found herself unable to mount her own defense and had to settle for, "You know."

Janet merely grinned and Elizabeth decided to turn her attention to the field, where the cheerleaders were gathering as the bleachers filled up. A shouting war was just starting up between the two teams' fans, led by the cheerleaders, and Elizabeth winced as John joined in. Oblivious to her discomfort he picked up one end of his scarf - that she was wearing - and waved it a bit.

"Would you like your scarf back?" she asked him.

"Huh?" he replied, before he focused on her and dropped the scarf in response. "Are you warm yet?"

"No." Although it had become something of a matter of pride that she was not going to take her jacket off regardless.

He grinned as he slid closer to her so they were almost touching at the leg and shoulder. She didn't move away. "When you are, let me know."

Fortunately for them both, the players started making their way onto the field and Elizabeth's ears were assaulted once more. It didn't stop once they started playing either, for John was quick to shout encouragement at the players and jeer at the opposition. Every time the Explorers scored he jumped up and Elizabeth thought she might as well have been invisible. Everyone else around them was getting into the spirit too.

Elizabeth couldn't help but be caught up in the excitement, but it might have been easier if she knew what was going on. It was difficult to concentrate on the game when people stood up in front of her every five minutes and all that told her was that she should have been watching beforehand, not trying to work out what she had just missed.

"Did you see that?" John asked, excitement in his eyes as he sat back down and noticed she was watching him.

"No, what just happened?"

"The Wraith fumbled and we scored from nowhere."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Never mind," he sighed. "It's half-time anyway."

He was right, she discovered, and she turned back to the field to watching the cheerleaders perform. She was sure she had seen at least one of them outside John's office door, which didn't surprise her. However, cheerleading routines were better appreciated by young men and Elizabeth looked for someone to to converse with. Preferably about a topic that wasn't football. But Janet and Daniel were having an earnest discussion about something Elizabeth couldn't quite hear and she didn't want to intrude. Everyone was talking about the Explorers' amazing playing in the first half of the game.

Fortunately Jack leaned over and asked, "Help me with this crossword?"

Elizabeth looked over to see he had a folded up newspaper in his lap, containing a half-completed crossword. It said something about her concentration on the game that she hadn't even noticed Jack wasn't paying attention. Or perhaps it was just that he wasn't paying attention to the cheerleaders. "Don't you have a bet with Sam about that?"

He shrugged. "She's not listening."

Elizabeth looked over and saw that he was right, so she took pity on him. "All right, what are you stuck on?"

"Up, down, charmed, something."

It wasn't her field of expertise but she had heard of that sequence. "Strange."

"Hmm, yes, it is." Jack's tone suggested that he hadn't understood the answer. "Never mind."

She didn't get a chance to explain it to him before the second half began and everyone turned their attention back to the game.

They weren't far into the second half when it became clear, even to Elizabeth, that both teams were playing completely differently than their earlier performances. The Explorers had been scoring, although not often, but when they had it had been spectacular, and the Wraith had consistently missed easy shots. Now, however, the Wraith seemed to have woken up and the Explorers were struggling to catch up. The Wraith beat their impressive score during the third quarter.

After berating the Explorers for a while, John had lapsed into silence along with most of the rest of the crowd. Elizabeth stifled a yawn and pretended not to notice John's fingers playing with his scarf.

The next thing she knew she was comfortably warm, even if her pillow was a little hard. The background noise of the football game grew and she pushed herself up from her position on John's shoulder.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty," he said, smiling at her, but not moving his arm from around her waist.

"I'm not," she replied, rubbing her eyes. She had been comfortable, even though she was sitting on a hard seat with John's shoulder for a pillow.

His smile turned to a grin. "What, not sleeping or not beautiful?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth but couldn't find a good way to answer that without incriminating herself.

"If you were trying to stop any rumors," Janet said, leaning down to mutter in her ear, with a grin Elizabeth didn't like the look of, "falling asleep on his shoulder wasn't the way to do it."

"It was only because he was sitting next to me," she said, turning round to face Janet. "It could just as easily have been Jack."

"Except you're sitting a lot closer to John."

Elizabeth glared at her even though she and John had been shoulder to shoulder the whole time - or at least whenever John was sitting down. When she turned back round to face the field John removed his arm and she could see that the game was over. The score up on the board explained why the Explorers cheerleaders were leaning despondently against each other. The crowd and the cheerleaders on the opposite side of the field were much more animated.

"I guess we lost," she said.

"Yeah," John answered, without enthusiasm.

"I need a drink," Jack said, with feeling.

"Good idea," she heard from Daniel, behind her, followed by, "I concur," from Teal'c. Jonas was the only one who didn't appear to be affected by the result, but that was just because he was more excitable to begin with and sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

The walk to Maybourne's bar was not a long one. They were soon seated around a table with drinks and still no one spoke.

"That was..." John trailed off, obviously unable to find a good word to describe the game.

"Pathetic," Sam finished.

"Yeah, pathetic, that's it," John agreed, and heaved a big sigh.

Elizabeth smiled. He was actually quite sweet like this - like he needed a hug to make it all better. Not that she was about to offer, and certainly not in front of other people, even if they were their friends. Especially if they were their friends.

The atmosphere was quickly dispelling the comfortable warmth she had felt upon waking. She also couldn't stop thinking of all the work she needed to get done. Normally she would have tried to get through it all during the week but John was a disruptive influence. Which, admittedly, was not always a bad thing, but she did get far less work done now she had him to interrupt her every day. And yet she rarely threw him out of her office.

"I have to go," she said, breaking the morose silence and finishing her drink as she stood. "I have work to do," she added, smiling at John who looked puzzled at her wanting to leave.

There was a chorus of farewells and promises from her to Sam and Janet to meet for lunch next week. Outside, the air felt refreshing after the atmosphere in the bar, but she had no time to enjoy it because John had followed her out and cornered her outside the bar.

"I'm sorry." He stuck his hands in his pants pockets and looked contrite.

"What for?"

"I should have listened when you said you didn't like football. I thought once you gave it a chance--"

"Don't worry about it, John. I enjoyed myself." She wasn't going to think about how much of that was due to his presence. Or his shoulder.

He frowned. "Really? But we lost and you fell asleep."

She smiled. John was so focused on the game and the outcome that he failed to see what she had: she'd spent an enjoyable morning with her friends. That they lost was probably the only reason it hadn't turned into a whole day - although given the work she needed to get through before Monday morning, that was probably just as well. "See you Monday," she said, not feeling the need to explain it to him. Not least because he might then ask her to future games and she suspected the novelty would soon wear off.

"Wait!" he called, jogging the few steps to catch her up. She turned round to find him standing very close behind her. She resisted the immediate impulse to step backwards.

He put out one hand to finger her scarf. She ignored the way her heart beat faster as the back of his hand brushed her shoulder. "Can I have my scarf back?"

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from smiling and shook her head. "I'm warm now," she said. "I think I'll keep it."

She stepped backwards, out of his reach and headed towards her car, leaving him too stunned to do anything about it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 2

"It's just a football game, how long can it take to get ready?" John called up to Elizabeth.

She didn't bother answering, just carried on going through her wardrobe. "Aha," she said, finding what she had been looking for hidden away at the back behind some uncomfortable shoes. Watching the Langford Explorers pick their new team was not her ideal way of spending Saturday morning, but John went religiously every year and now that they were living together she was trying to take more of an interest in his interests. Even if that included football. For one reason or another they hadn't seen each other much this week, so they would at least get to spend some time together, which was how Elizabeth had rationalized it when John asked her to go with him.

By the time she made it to the bottom of the stairs, John was already out of the door and on the way to the car. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Any other time she had trouble getting him out of the door late, never mind on time. And even though she had held them up, they would still be early.

He was so focused on getting there in time that he had driven to Langford, parked the car and bought her a coffee (so she wouldn't fall asleep this time, he told her) and handed it to her before he noticed what she was wearing. Elizabeth had never gotten around to building up the selection of Langford clothing that others had. She'd had a t-shirt once but that had long since been turned into a rag. What she did have now was a scarf, even if she hadn't worn it since the last football game she'd been to.

"That's my scarf," John pointed out.

"Good eyes." Elizabeth sipped her coffee to remind him she was holding it, therefore would be a bad idea for him to tackle her to get his scarf back. Not that it was his scarf any more. He had given it to her to keep her warm the last time he had dragged her to the football field. Refusing to give it back when he asked had started off as a game but ended up as a point of principle. Elizabeth wasn't sure why she was doing it, but she was certainly not going to stop and let him win.

John settled for glaring at her but Elizabeth knew he was plotting for later. It didn't matter, she would be ready.

Neither of them said anything as they made their way to the front row of the bleachers. Various students were already warming up and Elizabeth was unsurprised that several of them waved at John, or greeted him with a "Hey, Shep". John returned all of their greetings and asked a few of them for the names of the new players - presumably these were freshmen or older students only just trying out this year.

Elizabeth was seriously wondering if she should just give up now and lie down for a nap until it was all over when she was rescued by the surprise appearance of Sam Carter.

"Sam!" Elizabeth greeted her friend. "I didn't think anyone else would be crazy enough to be here."

As the potential players lined up there were a few cheers from the stand nearby, filled with students both male and female.

"Except for the players' fans, of course," she added.

"I could say the same for you," Sam replied. "Especially given what happened at the last game you went to."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Was anyone ever going to let her forget that? She kept the subject on Sam's reasons for being here and not the last game when she'd fallen asleep on John's shoulder. "John might occasionally get accused of cradle-snatching with his groupies--"

"Hey!" he said, without taking his eyes off the field.

Elizabeth ignored him. "--but I didn't think you were into the same thing."

"Well, in a choice between one of these guys and Rodney McKay..."

"I see your point." Elizabeth couldn't imagine anyone willingly dating Rodney.

"No, you're right. I'm trying to get more students interested in physics and I thought a course on the physics of football might help."

Elizabeth nodded, acknowledging the brilliance of the idea. "Sounds good."

"Yeah. You can imagine what McKay thought of it, though."

Elizabeth grinned; she could. "So what is he offering in competition?"

"I don't know yet. Either he's keeping it very secret, even from Radek, or he hasn't thought of anything better yet. I'm hoping for the second, although I don't think for one minute I'm going to lose this one." She sounded fierce about it.

"Ouch," John interrupted from beside them.

Elizabeth turned to the field, intending to ask what happened, but since she could see two of the players lying on the floor, she could guess, even with her meager knowledge of football.

"So, how's it going?" she asked him instead. Out the corner of her eye she saw Sam pull out a notebook and pen and start taking notes.

"I don't know why some of them are here at all," he gestured at the field, at a guy who'd just let the ball slip through his fingers. "They obviously don't know how to play."

"Perhaps they're hoping everyone else is going to be worse than them and they're going to get all the girls attention simply by being on the squad," she said, genuinely trying to take an interest this time.

"Probably. Although I think some of them do it for a dare."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"There's a bunch of freshmen who look really good, but some of the old players are going to be hard to replace."

Throughout the training session John continued to point out those players he thought were good and would make the squad for sure, and those he thought were useless and had no chance. Elizabeth was surprised that she found his commentary interesting. But it was probably because he didn't just tell her the names of the players, he also talked about the backgrounds of the ones he knew, so she felt as if she knew them too, and was routing for them just as much as John was.

By the time they'd finished Elizabeth could see Sam had taken plenty of notes. Elizabeth wished her luck with the course as they departed, but Sam was already deep in thought.

"I think they picked the right players in the end," John said, as they made their way home.

"Hmm," Elizabeth said, non-committally.

"So, did you enjoy yourself?"

She could tell that was a leading question from the smile on his face. "The company was all right, I guess." She was certainly not going to give himself the satisfaction of saying yes.

"Only all right? And you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't?" She grinned. "I think I need a nap after that early morning."

John's smile only grew as she evaded his questions and tried to think of reasons not to go to any more games, let alone practice sessions, which he would certainly drag her along to if he could.

In the end, she let him have this victory. "I had a not entirely pleasant morning spent with my boyfriend and my friend."

"So," John began, "the next game is--"

"Oh, no, you don't," she cut in, pointing a finger at him. "That was my one game for the year. You can get up early if you like, but my weekends are sacred and I intend to spend them sleeping."

He shrugged. "It was worth a try."

And not just one either. John would be sure to leave it a while until she thought he had forgotten, then spring it on her when she least expected it. Probably at such a time when she was powerless to say no. There was definitely some tactical thinking she needed to employ on this problem.

John never quite stopped grinning all the way home and Elizabeth could tell he was making plans already. It would be annoying if she didn't find it so cute. She was almost relieved when they arrived home and could turn their attention to different topics. John certainly had another one in mind because they were barely inside the door when all of a sudden Elizabeth found herself against the wall being thoroughly kissed. Not that she was going to complain, it was just a little unexpected.

It was only when she realized his hands had made their way to her neck while he distracted her with his mouth that she worked out what he was doing.

"Oh no you don't," she said, managing to pull away and extricate her scarf from his grip.

"You can't say you weren't enjoying it." He pouted a little, but didn't look surprised that she'd rumbled him.

"Let me just hide my scarf and I'll be happy to pick up where we left off." She took a step towards the stairs, but he grabbed her arm.

"Forget about the scarf and we can get on with this sooner."

She raised her eyebrows. "So, you'd quite like to do this with the scarf on?"

John opened his mouth to retort but closed it again as he looked her up and down with a lascivious look on his face. Elizabeth couldn't help but blush under his gaze. "Kinky," he said.

Elizabeth laughed, although not for long because she soon found herself back against the wall, but this time John's hands were trying to remove other pieces of her clothing. Elizabeth suspected she might have won the scarf argument for good.

The first time they played, John's team were late. Elizabeth was pacing her office when Steven saw the board and challenged her to a game. It took her mind off the wait and the good news came just after he checkmated her. Smiling, she asked for a rematch.

It became a ritual. Whenever he was in Atlantis she challenged him for a game. Sometimes she won; often he did. The games helped him forget his bitterness at not being able to stay in Atlantis; it helped her forget the Earth she still missed.

Despite the time they spent together, they only ever spoke of work, but that wasn't always a safe topic as they vied for power. They couldn't even agree on how to handle the Wraith. Most games were played in silence and chess became their conversation.

He gambled with pawns, she tempted him with her queen. She backed him into a corner, he found a way out. They knew each other's moves; they learned new ones to surprise each other. When she kissed him neither of them said anything. When he was next on Atlantis, he kissed her.

It wasn't just chess any more.

Sarah gave Harry a look for the 'old girl'. "I'd hardly call two a collection."

"For someone who didn't want any..." He left the sentence unfinished, but they both remembered that she'd often said she wasn't interested in getting married and having babies.

She sighed and leaned back against the counter. "I know." She gave him a chance to remind her of the time during their brief relationship when he'd wanted one thing and she the other, but he stayed quiet, which she was glad about. "It was easier to decide to adopt the second one." After all, she knew what to expect this time. And what to do too, she hoped.

The front door slamming announced Sky's arrival home from school, just as the kettle boiled and switched itself off. Sarah pushed herself off the counter to stand up straight again. "Tea, Sky?" she called, letting her know they were in the kitchen and not up in the attic.

"Yes, please," Sky shouted back. A moment later she arrived in the kitchen and flung her school bag on a chair. She stopped when she noticed Harry. "What are you doing here?"

It was just as well Sarah had chosen that moment to attend to the tea because neither of the other two occupants would see her try and contain her laughter. Although she didn't make a sound she had to put the kettle down, otherwise she'd end up pouring boiling water all over the place. As much as she longed to see Harry's reaction to Sky's question, she didn't turn round.

However, Harry leaned down and whispered, "Sounds like something you'd say." She couldn't answer that with her hand over her mouth and he didn't give her time to. Out loud, he said, "I'm Harry. I'm a friend of your mother's." He didn't sound offended by Sky's attitude at all. Maybe he'd got used to her, although she was never quite as blunt as Sky tended to be.

"I call her Sarah Jane." Sky's tone was matter-of-fact, as it was about most things.

"You're a lot like Luke," Harry said thoughtfully.

"No, I'm not. He's a boy and he's older than me."

The tea made, Sarah pressed a mug into Harry's hand. "Sky doesn't have much experience of this world. One minute she was a baby, the next..." She waved a hand in Sky's direction. Sky was still looking confused at Harry's comparison. "What Harry means," she said to Sky, "is that your reactions remind him of how Luke was when I first adopted him."

"Oh." She thought about that, while Sarah passed her a mug of tea. "I like Luke, so that's all right. Of course, I've only seen him on screen."

"Don't worry, you'll meet him soon enough." Sarah was sure the two of them would be friends.

"I'm not worried." Sky smiled to prove she wasn't. "But I have homework." She took her mug with her, out of the kitchen. The thumps on the stairs suggested she was intending to ask Mr Smith to help with it. Fortunately, he was clever enough to know not to do it all for her.

"I suppose we're too boring for children," Harry said, sitting down at the table.

Sarah joined him. "Speak for yourself!"

"I don't think anyone could ever say you were boring."

She smiled, taking it as a compliment. "So what do you think of her?"

He turned serious at her question. "Are you asking my personal or professional opinion?"

She put her mug down. "Both. She was a bomb. She can still sense electricity. I'm just worried that..."

He put a hand over hers. "She'll need to be scanned to be sure. I'll sort something out and give you a call."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I knew I could reply on you."

Harry smiled at the compliment. "And I like her. If only you were alien too, that would explain you."

She punched him on the arm, but grinned as she did so, glad that Harry was the one thing in her life that never changed.

Despite K9 being up and about, Luke was still in bed, judging by the lump topped with dark hair. Harry took the opportunity to look around the room. It was quite small, but neat and tidy and above all, clean. At least if Sarah asked, he could reassure her that her son wasn't living in squalor.

The question remained: why was Luke still in bed and hadn't woken at Harry's entrance? He knew students were famed for their ability to sleep late, but as far as he knew Luke wasn't a typical teenager. So he went over to Luke's bed, put a hand on what he hoped was his shoulder and called Luke's name.

The covers shifted and Luke's head peered out from under them, looking bleary-eyed.

"Is everything all right?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I think this must be a hangover." Luke sounded sorry for himself.

Harry fought the urge to smile. Luke's first hangover. Which was quite a feat given that he'd been at university three weeks already. "I'll get you some water."

There was no one in the kitchen down the hall. He couldn't tell whose dishes were whose, so he just picked a glass off the draining board at random and ran the tap. When he returned Luke was sitting up in bed. Harry passed the glass of water to him.

"Did mum send you?" Luke asked once he'd finished the water.

Harry pulled out the chair by the desk and sat on it. He didn't quite like to admit that she had because he didn't want Luke to complain that Sarah was checking up on him. Besides, if Sarah hadn't asked he'd have happily come. His silence answered the question for him.

"You won't tell her I got drunk will you?"

Luke sounded so vulnerable that Harry couldn't bring himself to say that he would. Although he didn't think telling her would be that bad. "She might not be that upset." It was hard to tell how Sarah would react to things, but on the whole it was probably best to be vague about it. "What was so special about last night?"

"Sanjay thought it was criminal that I was seventeen and had never tried alcohol." Luke put the empty glass on the bedside table, pushing the alarm clock over to make room.

Harry remembered being sixteen himself, so he could hardly complain about that. "So what did you try?"

"Everything."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Luke answered the question Harry hadn't voiced. "First there was a pint of beer, then I had vodka and coke, then whisky. I remember the aftershock, a pint of cider and a bottle of something orange." He frowned. "I don't remember anything after that."

Harry wasn't surprised if he'd been working his way through the bar. "I was going to offer to take you to lunch." Luke looked a distinct shade of green at the mention of food. "But perhaps I'll come back this evening when you're feeling better and take you to dinner instead." There were some people he was planning to visit while he was in Oxford and he could arrive earlier than he'd planned.

"Thank you," Luke said, smiling.

"But next time you go out drinking," Harry said, as he stood up, "pick one thing and stick to it."

"I will." Looking pale now, Luke huddled back under the covers and Harry left him to it.

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.

He smiled upon seeing Arwen curled up in a chair in the corner. When she didn't acknowledge his entrance he assumed she was absorbed in her book. Her mother had done the same from time to time and Elrond had learnt it was best to leave her to it.

Since Celebrían left, Elrond and Arwen had found they had little to say to each other. Elrond couldn't say why their relationship had changed so much, so he was glad of a chance to spend some time with his daughter. Even if neither of them spoke it was enough to be in her presence for a time.

However, the accounts of Imladris were not very distracting and Elrond found he couldn't concentrate on them after a long day. After a while spent trying to read, but mostly staring out of the window, he realised Arwen hadn't turned a page in her book since he sat down. When he looked up he found she was looking off into the distance.

"Arwen?" he asked softly, and waited until her eyes met his before continuing. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. As she slid the bookmark inside the book and rested it on the table beside the lamp, Elrond waited for her to correct that statement. "It's too quiet."

He raised an eyebrow. It was early yet and outside the window the birds were singing as they gathered for bed. The Men chattering and the Elves' songs could still be heard, though they were further afield. It was not noisy precisely, but neither was it very quiet.

Arwen knew what his expression meant without him having to ask the question. "It's too quiet without mother here," she elaborated.

He nodded. He often felt the same. Celebrían's absence made the house feel too empty, despite the number of people in it. Yet he said nothing to Arwen. It was hard to offer comfort when he had none to give.

The silence stretched between them before Arwen stood and wandered over to the mantelpiece, frowning. "There always used to be flowers here."

"Violets." Leaving his papers on the chair as he stood, Elrond joined her. "They were your mother's favourite flower. They used to grow in the flowerbed by our rooms but they have not bloomed since..." he trailed off, certain she knew the gardens well enough to have noticed.

She ran her fingers over the space on the mantelpiece where the violets once stood. Elrond hated to see her look so sad and was frustrated at his inability to help her. However, he could bear this melancholy no longer and knew he was failing as her father by not finding a way of cheering her up.

"Perhaps we might grow something else in its place," he suggested.

Arwen's fingers stopped, but it was a moment before she turned to face him. "I don't know what would grow well in that patch, but I think it should be something bright."

Elrond smiled, liking the idea. "I know where we can find out." He held out his arm. After a moment she smiled and took it, and together they walked to the library. On a low shelf on the left was a book on flowers that Celebrían had often consulted. Elrond had frequently seen her with it and knew where it lived. He picked it and handed it to Arwen. "I believe the answer to your question is in here," he said.

She opened the book and flicked through it, looking at the drawings and the information that told her what type of soil they grew best in. Elrond peered over her shoulder, offering no comment, wanting Arwen to choose something herself. She didn't linger long over any page until she came upon the rose. "I have heard that they are trying to breed a purple rose in Lothlórien," she commented.

He raised an eyebrow. "I would like to see that." Celebrían had also been fond of roses, but none she had were purple. "But the soil and the light are wrong in the flowerbed where the violets grew."

"No, but I know where they could go." She handed him the book before moving over to the desk. There she began sketching the garden, noting what grew there now and what she would like to grow.

Elrond smiled as he watched her work. She had taken over many of Celebrían's duties out of necessity, but Celebrían's garden had, until now, not been something she had been interested in, beyond looking at it. Now Celebrían was gone, Imladris would never be the same again, but at least he still had Arwen. Perhaps if they worked on the garden together they would once again find something they had in common.

"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.