"What can you see?" she whispered. From here she had to turn her head to look and she didn't want them to be spotted, even though they were in the shadows.

"I think--" Ian said before he stopped suddenly and kissed Barbara, surprising her.

When he stopped, she looked up at him, her fast heartbeat not just from the fear of being discovered. She'd forgotten where they were until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked round to find the people they were watching had moved along and were trying to break into the post office. Worse, they were most definitely aliens - when they passed under a street light she could see their skin glowed gold. "We should call the police," she suggested.

Ian shook his head. "The police wouldn't know what to do with them." Before she could ask what the two of them could do against four aliens he said, "Stay there," and ran off towards the post office.

Now that all the aliens were inside and hadn't posted a look-out they could see from here, going closer wasn't so dangerous, but there was still a risk Ian could be seen. Barbara wanted to shout at him for going closer, but then they would definitely know he was there. So she stayed where she was and watched and worried as he opened the door of the aliens' car and started the engine. Then she understood what he was doing and ran over to meet him as he drove towards where she was waiting. The alarm that went off inside the post office suggested that the aliens weren't likely to be in there much longer.

"They won't get very far," he said, as he sped off around the corner and out of sight. "They should have had a getaway driver."

"They're very inept criminals." She smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Let's go to dinner and leave them to it." He parked the car down the road from what had been their intended destination, before they were waylaid by the promise of adventure.

"Didn't we come home to have a normal life free from aliens?" she asked, as they left the car with the keys in the ignition and walked up the road. There was no one following them, despite her worry that the aliens would find them. The police would surely get involved now and she wasn't sure what they would think about people with gold coloured skin. Or whether Ian was more interested in adventure and chasing aliens or dinner and a normal life. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure which she would prefer.

"We can do that too." Ian stopped suddenly and kissed her again.

Barbara smiled and found she had already forgotten all about the alien robbers.

2.
"That monkey has three arms," Jo said, frowning as she peered into the tree.

Cliff shrugged and didn't so much as glance up from the patch of ground he was studying for signs of the mushroom. "It's probably a mutation."

Jo didn't know enough about biology to know if monkeys were capable of that large a mutation, but if Cliff thought it was likely then it was good enough for her. Or it would be if that was its only difference from other monkeys. "It's also green," she said to his back.

"Good camouflage." He must have discovered the mushroom wasn't there and he started walking, writing something in his notebook as he went.

She folded her arms and waited. It took a few moments before he looked up and around and then finally back at her.

"Did you say it was a green monkey with three arms?" he asked as he returned to her.

She nodded. At least he'd been listening.

"You think it's an alien?" He didn't sound sure, but then she'd seen more aliens than he had.

"Yes, I do."

He looked up into the tree, watching as the monkey swung from branch to branch to settle down in the next tree along. "What do you want to do about it?"

Since they were in the middle of nowhere and the nearest phone was a day's walk away, they couldn't call anyone to help. Not that anyone would be able to get here before they lost the monkey. "Let's find out if it's intelligent," she suggested. She followed its path to stop underneath the tree it was currently sitting in. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted up at it, "Hey, you!"

The monkey turned to look at them, then threw down the remains of a piece of fruit it had been eating. The fruit went splat at Jo's feet.

"I think that's a yes," Cliff unhelpfully pointed out.

Jo wasn't about to give up, especially if it could understand them. "Wouldn't you like to go home?" she called up to it.

Her answer was another piece of fruit. It would have landed on her shoes if she hadn't taken a step backwards just in time.

"I think it's happy here," Cliff said. "I don't think it's doing any harm."

She looked over at him. "If the Doctor was here he could take it home." Cliff took her hand and she smiled at him. "It might take him a few attempts," she admitted, smiling too. "It's happy here," she decided. "Let's just leave it."

She let him lead her onwards and they forgot all about the alien monkey for several years until they heard reports of a new species discovered in the Amazon. When they returned to see it for themselves they found the alien must have bred with the native monkey population to produce a variety of monkeys that were either green or had three arms. The experts were baffled, but neither Jo nor Cliff thought they would believe the truth. But Jo and Cliff knew and that was enough.

3.
"Why did I agree to do this?" Harry grimaced as he and Sarah stepped out of their hotel room and he locked the door. A night spent on the floor hadn't done his back any good and he ached all over.

"Because everyone here has to be married," Sarah reminded him, then suddenly turned and kissed him.

For a moment he remembered exactly why he'd given in to her pleading to help her with an investigation that apparently no one else in the world could help with. Then he opened his eyes and discovered she was looking at something over his shoulder. It wasn't as if he was asking for a bit of romance, but Sarah played pretending to be married badly. He ended the kiss, reminding himself not to be fooled, and waited for her to tell him what was going on.

"It's not just corruption," she said, "it's aliens." Her eyes sparkled.

He sighed. He had supposed that when he'd left UNIT that would be the end of deadly adventures with aliens. He hadn't reckoned on his friendship with Sarah pulling him right back into the world it seemed she'd never left.

"Come along, darling," she said, in a tone that Harry couldn't believe no one else found suspicious. At least he couldn't until they reached reception. Various couples were seated on the sofas dotted around the foyer. Most of them were kissing. Some of them looked like they were on their way to doing more than just that.

"Um," Harry said. That wasn't normal, even for this place, and it was an odd, badly-run hotel. Surprisingly, none of the other couples had any complaints about their stay.

"Why aren't we affected?" Sarah frowned at him. "Unless you have to be in love."

That couldn't possibly be it because Harry still had no desire to kiss Sarah like that in public. He didn't dare say it, though. "It could be any number of things. They did state that you had to be married, not just in love," he pointed out.

Sarah stuck out her left hand and stared at it. They had the rings and the forged papers, but not the actual marriage. "Kiss the receptionist," she said suddenly, putting her hand in her pocket.

"What?" he frowned.

"We have to do something, to shock them or break their hold. They won't be expecting adultery."

He had a feeling that even if it were adultery Sarah would still suggest it, if it meant getting a story. It didn't explain why he'd ended up being her skivvy and he attempted to put his foot down. "Why don't you kiss her?"

She sighed. "Look, she's pretty, Harry. What more do you want?"

As an attempt it was a miserable failure. Sarah always got what she wanted, it was merely a question of how long it took her to talk him into it. Kissing random strangers, no matter how pretty, wasn't something he did and nor was adultery. So he took off his ring and passed it to her, not intending to put it back on, no matter what happened next. Before he could change his mind, he walked up to the receptionist and kissed her.

She turned out to be an alien of course.

After that there was general chaos and Sarah trying to talk the aliens into leaving, while Harry tried to stay out of the way. He wasn't sure how successful she'd been given that they got thrown out.

"I don't know how I'm going to write this up," Sarah said, standing on the pavement and staring at the hotel.

Harry smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something, old girl."

4.
"Rabbits," Tegan cursed as she heard the band say good night and the sound of music was replaced by the chatter of thousands of people leaving the arena. She'd been hoping the band would be on stage for longer. Now she would be trying to hunt a blue slithering alien while evading more security people. Not to mention the man carrying a guitar who came from around the corner and stopped right in front of her. "I don't suppose you've seen a big, blue caterpillar anywhere, have you?" she asked him. Sometimes brazenly telling the truth got you further than lying.

He gave her an odd look. "No, I can't say I have. Are you supposed to be back here?"

"That depends on how you look at it." She was probably the only person here qualified to know that the thing that looked like a big, blue caterpillar was really an alien.

"Right." He clearly didn't believe her. "I suppose you'd like an autograph."

She shook her head. "I'd rather wait until I caught the caterpillar-like thing, if it's all the same to you." Although it might stop Jenny from complaining Tegan abandoned her if she returned with an autograph.

He gave her an odd look. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Of course I do, you're in the band. And there it is!" She pointed toward where the creature had slithered off towards the toilets and ran after it.

The man put his guitar back around his neck and followed her. "Why would you come to a concert if you don't recognise the band?"

"Jenny dragged me."

"So you got bored and came backstage?"

Tegan decided to use the fact that she was running as an excuse not to answer that one. She knew the music, so she hadn't been that bored, they'd just been so far away they couldn't see anything, which made her wonder what the point of being here was. Having caught up to the caterpillar, she took a leap and rugby tackled it.

"It really is an alien."

Tegan was too busy stopping it from escaping under her that she failed to appreciate for a minute that she hadn't mentioned the creature was an alien. "A little help would be appreciated."

It turned out that the man's guitar strings came in handy for tying it up. By the time they were done all it could do was wriggle helplessly on the ground.

"You've seen aliens before?" Tegan asked, given his blasé attitude about the whole thing.

The man shook his head. "My parents always claimed they'd seen aliens. I never believed them." He smiled and stretched out a hand. "I'm Johnny."

"Tegan." She shook his hand.

"We're playing here again tomorrow night. I'll get you some free tickets, then you can see the songs you missed. And a proper backstage pass too." Tegan hesitated and he stepped closer to whisper in her ear. "Maybe you can check for aliens before we go on."

She couldn't resist that grin or another chance to see him.

5.
Performing CPR on an alien was a tricky thing. It was hard enough to work out where the heart was (or even if there was just the one) with medical equipment and a heartbeat. It was harder when you were kneeling in the road in the middle of a crowd of onlookers, trying to establish if there was a heartbeat. Or even a heart, in this case.

"Allow me, I'm a doctor."

Harry looked up from his patient to see a young woman kneeling across from him on the other side of the alien. "Not of him you're not," he said, although the alien could have female, it was hard to tell. It was generally simplest to pick a pronoun until the aliens could reveal which they preferred. If they had one of those too.

"You'd be surprised," the woman said, pulling a stethoscope out of her bag and pressing it against various parts of the alien's torso. She was at least more prepared for a traffic accident than he was, but then he had just been for a quiet walk and not expecting his medical skills to be needed.

"Who are you?" She didn't looked fazed by the alien's appearance. Harry was sure he could see crumpled wings beneath it. Unless it was just his coat, it was hard to tell.

She smiled. "Martha Jones. And don't worry, I'm sure he's going to be fine."

Harry wasn't so sure. "Harry Sullivan. I have seen aliens before." He wasn't going to let her pull the wool over his eyes.

"Oh." She took the stethoscope out of her ears to look up at him instead.

"I'm a doctor too," he added. "I think he might be dead."

"I think you're right," she admitted. She sighed and sat back on her heels. He was tempted to tell her it wasn't her fault, she only just got here, but this was unlikely to be the first time she'd lost a patient, despite how young she looked. "But we can't leave him here."

"Leave it to me," he said and then realised that calling UNIT would be tricky from the middle of the road and there weren't as many phone boxes as there used to be. "Er, I don't suppose you have one of those mobile phone things?"

She laughed and passed him her phone. After Martha's introduction to UNIT, Harry took her to the pub to tell her all about how he knew about aliens. At least, that was how he justified it...

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.

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.

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

"Sarah Jane, there you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aunt Lavinia smiled. "Of course you can."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After that, she didn't dream again.

~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed. "All right, you win."

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

"What on earth are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except when he reached for her, she sighed.

"Sorry, Harry. I'm just not in the mood."

He leaned away again. It wasn't as if every dinner had to result in them going to bed together, which was what they told themselves to make it seem less sordid, but generally they at least tried. "You were when you invited me over."

She shrugged. "Maybe it's just too easy now Luke's at university. There's no excitement in it."

Harry tried not to take offence at the insinuation that their sex life was boring. But given how it had been since she'd adopted Luke, he'd live with boring over non-existent. Somehow Sarah always had something on, and when he did come over other people being around would spoil the mood. He was glad she had Luke but he was nostalgic for the old days. "You weren't like this before you adopted Luke."

She gave him an apologetic look.

"So we have to come up with something to make it exciting." Whether Sarah agreed or not, he felt that the onus was on him. Not least because she'd not come up with anything herself. Although he thought his previous attempts with blindfolds and handcuffs had been good ideas, they had failed in their execution, so he would have to think of something different. Maybe if adding things didn't work, changing the location would. "How about the sofa? No one else has a key, do they?"

"No," she said slowly, and not sounding very confident about it.

He sighed. "You still keep a key under the plant pot, don't you?"

She didn't have to answer, he could tell by her guilty look.

"I've told you that isn't safe."

"Harry, having an argument isn't going to help."

She was right. He would wait until he left before telling her again. She might have Mr Smith, but he wouldn't be much use against someone breaking in to steal her valuables. "Are you going to throw me out, or do I get to stay the night?"

"Of course you can stay, Harry. I need a man to deal with any burglars," she said in an innocent tone that didn't match her grin.

"I think you'd be more than a match for any burglar." He knew she didn't always have a very high opinion of his usefulness, but then he didn't have a very high opinion of her regard for her own safety. They just had to stay off those subjects and they would be fine.

She smiled at him, but the effect was spoilt by a yawn.

"Bed?" he suggested and she nodded. "I'd ask what you've been up to, but I prefer living in blissful ignorance." He stood and offered her a hand up, which she took. And then didn't let go as they went upstairs to her bedroom.

They could almost be an old married couple, he thought, as they cleaned their teeth and put their pyjamas on. When she cuddled up to him in bed, he wondered if she'd changed her mind, until she said, "Perhaps I should just get a vibrator. It would always be there when I wanted it."

"If that was what you wanted you'd have got one years ago. Or married me." That wouldn't have just made their sex life simpler, it would have meant he could keep more of an eye on her and her dangerous activities. It was, he suspected, at least part of the reason why she'd never wanted to.

"I'm not marrying you, Harry."

He smiled. "I wasn't going to ask." He'd tried once and had been far too scared by her response to ever attempt it again. Besides, he wasn't in love with her any more. "Maybe I should come round for dinner every week while Luke's away. You're bound to be in the right mood at one of them."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being understanding."

"With you, I don't have a choice."

She rested her head on his shoulder and he held her tight until he fell asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he did eventually step through the front door, his clothes were damp and his hair stuck up. Sarah wondered briefly if he'd got into a fight. She was torn between relief at seeing he was all right and anger at him scaring her. He could have stopped to find a phone if he tried, she was sure.

"What happened to you?" she asked as he hung up his coat and carefully left his shoes by the door. Although she'd decided on anger, her tone had come out as relief.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, old girl."

Now she was annoyed. "Harry." This time her tone was a warning.

"I need a shower and a change of clothes," was all he said and Sarah seriously considered throttling him.

Instead, she stood outside the bathroom door and thought about how much effort she'd have to put in to break the door down. And how much more effort it would take to fix. So she made herself a cup of tea instead.

Back in the living room she settled down with a nice, hot mug of tea and told herself it was relaxing. But mostly she glared at the mug in place of glaring at Harry. She'd nearly finished it by the time he came out of the bathroom. He did at least look like everything was back in place and he smelled flowery, which meant he'd accidentally used her shower gel again. Sarah decided not to mention it and glared at him when he finished her lukewarm tea.

"Your tea's gone cold," he said, as he sat down.

Sarah folded her arms. "I'm still waiting."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For you to tell me where you've been." From the state of him she guessed that nothing that bad had happened to him at least.

"Oh." He leaned back on the sofa. "I was on my way here, taking a stroll along the Thames. It's very pretty with the lights reflecting off it." He smiled at her look. He was clearly going to take his time over the story. "The water rippled a bit, which I thought was odd, so I stopped to look. The next thing I know some monster has capsized a boat - you know, one of those tour boats for tourists. And they're not easy to capsize, believe me. Well, I couldn't just stand there, could I?"

He paused. Wondering if he wanted some sort of reaction, Sarah softly said, "Of course not."

"I thought it was the Loch Ness Monster back again for a moment. But this was far smaller and had more legs. I think it was an octopus. I didn't stop to count them, but they have eight legs, don't they?"

Sarah interrupted. "Harry, as much as I'm enjoying the story, do you think you could stick to the facts? I'd like to go to bed this side of midnight."

He looked hurt. "I am. I just thought you'd appreciate a little background."

She gave in. "Carry on, then," she said and patted him on the leg.

"Now where was I?"

Sarah gave him a look and Harry grinned.

"Ah, yes, the thing in the water - let's call it an octopus, shall we? - capsized a boat. Fortunately, there was a trained diver on a nearby boat and he jumped in to get all the people out. So I just had to worry about the octopus. And a bally great thing it was too. It probably would have filled your living room."

Sarah looked around at the room and decided she didn't want to face it, given a choice.

"The next thing I knew, something came up from the bottom of the river, nearly sucking all those people down! And it looked familiar, because it was an escape pod and the octopus was a crashed alien. With all the flailing about it was doing it was hard to get close to it in a boat, but it was coming closer to the shore, so I didn't have to. I called out to it, and I think it answered, but I didn't understand what it's saying."

"Because the TARDIS wasn't around," Sarah put in.

Harry nodded. "The only thing I could think to do is to call UNIT, but before I could dash off to find a phone box, there was a tremendous roar and a giant spaceship appeared over our heads. I'm surprised you didn't hear it, even out here."

Sarah was too and she had her suspicions about that, but she kept them quiet for now.

"It hovered over the Thames and nearly crashed into the Houses of Parliament. Then a hatch opened and there was another octopus, bigger than the one on the river. They talked to each other, as far as I could tell. And then they reached out an arm towards each other, the big one pulled the little one on board, and they closed the hatch. It flew off over my head and I had to throw myself to the ground to avoid having my head taken off."

Sarah looked at him closely and noticed he didn't have a scratch on him. That must have been very soft ground he'd thrown himself on.

"So then I went and got the escape pod and you'll never guess what I found inside."

"I probably won't," she agreed. "You might as well tell me." He looked like he was itching to.

"Eggs! Big octopus eggs."

She raised her eyebrows. "Where are they now?"

"I called UNIT and they came and took everything away. They're incubating the eggs, hoping they can teach the youngsters English, then they can tell us about their race."

Sarah wondered if, despite being a doctor, Harry knew the slightest thing about biology. Given that she'd heard nothing at all about this on the news (and she'd watched a lot of it while she'd been waiting), and UNIT weren't that good at covering up alien invasions, Sarah doubted most of his story. It wasn't the first tale Harry had told her and most of those had been exaggerated, if not a complete lie. But something must have happened and if it was by the Thames that would account for his clothes being wet. Mind you, being Harry, he could have just fallen in. "How much of that was actually true?"

Harry stood up. "Didn't you say something about bed?" he asked, changing the subject and holding out a hand. When she didn't move he added, "Does it matter?"

He had told an entertaining story and she had forgotten all her worry and anger. And bed might be the best place to tease the real story out of him. So she smiled at him, took his hand and let him lead her to the bedroom.

It seems like only a minute later, but in reality it's six hours when Harry wakes her and hands her the baby. The baby shrieks if either of them put it down for a minute, so Martha's got good at making herself coffee using only one hand.

As she drinks her coffee, she feeds the baby at the same time. When she sits down, hoping the baby will settle down so she can catch up on some of her missing sleep, there's a knock at the door. She sighs as she gets up to answer it, thinking she'll never get any sleep. She's wrong.

~*~

"What is it?" Martha asks.

"We don't know," the sergeant replies. "It came to Earth in what we think was an escape pod. We're trying to contact the main ship now."

She nods. "I'll have a look at it."

When Martha finds the escape pod in the sickbay, she also finds it contains a very loud alien. She doesn't know what the shrieking noise means, but she talks calmly to it, assuming it's scared. She knows she would be in its situation. It looks interested, as she runs tests on it, but it doesn't stop shrieking and it's giving Martha a headache.

"I wish you'd stop that," she says, and picks it up to look at the escape pod it's in. Immediately, the alien stops the noise. Martha looks at it carefully. "You're just a baby, aren't you?" The baby coughs and throws up on her.

~*~

She's at the end of her patience. She can't work while holding a baby and it shrieks whenever she passes it to anyone else: the baby's latched onto her for some reason. Although Martha's touched, she really needs a break. So when Harry Sullivan stops by the UNIT base, she thrusts the baby at him and is so glad it stays quiet she hugs him.

"Steady on," Harry says.

They've only met a few times before, but anyone the baby likes is a godsend, so she persuades him to stay. They work out a system that means they both get some time away from the baby and discover, through trial and error, what it eats. And after a week Martha can't remember what her life was like before the alien baby arrived in her sickbay.

~*~

Fewer people come round to chat, now Martha's busy with the baby, although they're happy enough to coo over it when she takes it on a walk around the base. Colonel Mace, though, hasn't had any contact with it at all and Martha can't guess what he wants to see her for. But once she's inside her office she knows. The alien standing beside Mace's desk looks exactly like a bigger version of the one she holds in her arms.

Mace tells her dispassionately that this is the baby's mother and it's come to take it home. And yet, despite all the sleepless nights and the pain in her wrist from holding a heavy baby one-handed, she doesn't want to hand it over.

"Can we be sure she's who she says she is?" Martha asks.

"You're the doctor."

So Martha gets to take the alien back to the sickbay to run tests on her.

~*~

Afterwards, the room is quiet and Martha can sleep as long as she likes. But she keeps listening out for sounds she won't hear. They purposely didn't name the baby, knowing it couldn't stay, and unsure of what sex it was, but it didn't stop her from getting attached to it anyway. Its mother was grateful for the care Martha had given it and pronounced the baby healthy and happy, but that was cold comfort at the moment.

"Can't sleep?" Harry asks, as he settles on the bed next to her.

She shakes her head.

He reaches for her and she rests her cheek on his shoulder as he rubs her back. It does make her feel better, which is odd because a week ago she barely knew this man. Now, though, his touch is comforting and she falls asleep listening to the beating of his heart.

As Harry injected the patient and waited for the results, he had a feeling he was being watched, but when he turned round there was no one there. The patient would be fine for a minute or two, so Harry went out into the corridor to check he wasn't going mad. A man in a brown pinstripe suit was walking away.

"Can I help you?"

The man stopped, turned and smiled at Harry. "No, I'm just passing through. You're doing brilliant work, by the way." Then he carried on walking.

Harry shook his head and went back to his work.

Sarah sat down, surprised. She had been sure the Brigadier would understand. She'd originally come here independently of the Doctor, so why couldn't she stay now that he was gone? Alright, so she'd sneaked in, pretending to be her aunt, but she was hoping the Brigadier had forgotten about that. "How am I supposed to help you if I can't get on the base?"

"We'll call you, if we need a favourable report in the press."

"That's not what I meant."

The Brigadier leaned forward. "Sarah. We just can't allow civilians on the base any more. Orders from above. If it were up to me...." He gave her a sympathetic look.

She nodded, understanding the military mindset all too well - which was why she wanted nothing to do with it. Except for UNIT, of course. She stood up. "Thank you for trying, Brigadier." Although she wondered how much effort he'd put in and whether he'd try again now.

He stood too and shook her hand, giving no hint of any guilt he might be feeling. "Keep in touch, Miss Smith."

Being without a pass meant she was escorted out, although in her case it involved having a friendly chat with Benton as they walked to the front gate. She just wished she'd managed to convince him to let her stay a little longer, but he refused to go against orders. After he left her, she frowned when she saw someone by her car. It wasn't someone in uniform, so that automatically made her suspicious.

It was only when she got closer that she realised who it was: Harry Sullivan. She hadn't seen him since the last time they were on Earth in the present, not long after she'd had to deal with the android version of him. She'd wondered if he'd stayed in UNIT and now she knew. "Harry," she called out to him, cheerfully.

Harry straightened up from where he was peering at her windscreen. "Hullo, old girl."

She rolled her eyes. "I see you haven't changed a bit." Although she wasn't entirely unhappy about it. It was nice to know that some things never changed.

He smiled at her before he said, "Did you know your tax disc's three months out of date?"

"Oh, no." Her shoulders slumped as she checked it to confirm he was right. "I have a pile of post at home that I haven't had the energy to work my way through." She'd only got as far as the final demands, not wanting her electricity to be cut off.

"You can't drive it like that."

She wondered if Harry ever did anything that could be considered breaking the law, even if only a little bit. He'd probably never even had a speeding ticket. But at least you knew where you were with Harry, she supposed. "Harry, the chances of the police stopping me are pretty slim."

"Not the way you drive."

She punched him in the arm. He'd only experienced her driving once.

"Come on, I'll give you a lift home."

She sighed and gave in. She would have argued more, but she didn't have enough money to buy petrol with. At least if she didn't have to make the journey here, she could get everywhere she needed to on the bus. "So what have you been up to while I've been away?" she asked, glaring at him for holding the passenger door open for her.

"I'm still working at UNIT," he replied, if that wasn't obvious. Why else would he be hanging around the base?

"So no plans to go elsewhere?"

He shook his head. "I'm perfectly happy here, why would I leave?"

"You did say you'd like to leave the Navy and have your own practice in the country," she pointed out.

"Maybe one day. But my tour here isn't over and I'm just getting used to dealing with aliens."

Sarah smiled, remembering his reactions to the whole idea. He had improved a lot very quickly. She wondered what it would take for him to leave now. But even after seeing other planets and other times, Harry was still perfectly happy in good old London in the present. She envied him that a little. "It's very good to see you," she said. "I've had such a hard time explaining where I've been."

"I'm glad to see you're in one piece, old girl."

Oh, she hadn't missed that at all. "Don't ever change, Harry," she told him, fondly, thus scuppering her chances of ever getting him to stop calling her that.

2.
Sarah had to remind herself that dinner in a restaurant really did consist purely of foods found on Earth. Which, although boring, meant that nothing was about to kill her. She could have added some excitement to the meal by allowing Harry to order for her, but she wasn't so bored that she needed to get her kicks from a surprise main course. Besides, Harry had already held her chair and poured her wine, she wasn't going to let him get away with doing anything else for her.

In between the waiter bringing out their food they'd reminisced about the amazing things they'd seen. It might not be the best conversation to have in a public place, but for now it was all they had in common. And Sarah wanted to remember how real it was and not how dreamlike it was starting to become in the face of bus tickets and burst pipes.

"I wish we could see that future," Sarah said, when their coffee arrived and they'd run out of old times to talk about.

Harry shivered. "I'd rather not see an empty Earth again."

"It wasn't empty the first time," she pointed out, but it was eerie enough as it was. She much preferred London filled with people, not fields. "No, I want to see humans build spaceships and go into space."

He frowned. "You do remember the moon landing, don't you?"

She was half-tempted to pour the milk over his head for being so obtuse, but settled for adding some to her coffee instead. "It's not the same. They had to wear spacesuits and live in zero g. Nerva Station was just like being on Earth, only we were in orbit around it."

"It would be something worth seeing," he agreed. "But I'm afraid the chances of you living thousands of years are small." He grinned and had a sip of his coffee to cover it.

"Only small?" she teased, smiling. "I'll take any chance, no matter how small." After all, you never know. Scientists might discover the secret of eternal life. Or the Doctor might come back and take her to the near future, rather than the distant future. She tried not to dwell on that last thought.

Harry smiled back and shook his head. "Ever the optimist."

If only he knew. She sighed and played idly with the empty sugar sachet.

"What's wrong, Sarah?" he asked softly.

He was so content that she wasn't sure he'd understand if she explained it to him. But then, it wasn't as if there was anyone else she could tell. She dropped the sachet back on the table. "You know how going back to work after a good holiday is really depressing?"

He nodded.

"I feel like that, only it's not getting any better." It probably didn't help that she wasn't going to work on a regular basis. Writing about ordinary events seemed so unimportant after the the things she'd seen, but having very little to do only gave her more time to think.

He took her hand. "In that case, I think we had the holiday of a lifetime. Maybe we'll never do anything like that ever again, but we're luckier than most of the other people on this planet."

She didn't feel lucky, but she hadn't expected Harry, of all people, to look at it like that. She studied him closely, wondering if there was only a part of the real Harry he allowed people to see.

He frowned at her. "What is it?"

She shook her head and smiled. It was hardly something she could explain to him and she was sure that if she tried he would just tell her she was imagining things. So instead she squeezed his hand and said, "I never thought of it like that. Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for."

And, as it turned out, to refuse to allow her to pay the bill.

3.
Harry leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Aren't you supposed to be writing?"

Sarah looked guiltily down at the empty page in her notebook. She was here to review the concert. It wasn't quite what she was used to, but it paid the bills and she did enjoy listening to music. The magazine had given her two tickets, so she'd brought Harry along. She'd deliberated about who to bring, wondering how she'd managed to lose touch with all her friends, but in the end she'd decided that the problem wasn't that Harry had become the focal point of her social life, but that she was unexpectedly enjoying his company. They'd been out together a few times now and she had a vague idea he appreciated classical music, so inviting him made sense.

The concert was only an amateur affair, but she'd got caught up in the music and forgotten what she was here for. When she still hadn't written anything by the time the interval started, Harry went off for ice creams and returned with a programme as well. "Here," he said, passing the programme over. "If you forget to write in the second half at least you have something to start with."

"Thank you." She smiled at him, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Although she managed to write a couple of sentences while she had been waiting for Harry during the interval, she didn't manage to expand on any of them during the second half. So when Harry dropped her off at her flat she asked him, "Will you come in and help me think of something to say?"

"I don't think I'll be much help," he grumbled, but came in all the same.

He'd taken her coat, despite it being her flat, and then offered to make them coffee, which left her along in the living room with her notebook. There was nothing else for it, but to find a few sentences to sing the praises of the soloists. At least until Harry reappeared in the doorway.

"Do you have any coffee?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to tell him where it was before she realised he wouldn't find any there. "I think I've run out."

"Never mind, it doesn't have to be coffee."

He wasn't gone nearly as long this time before he came back, holding a tea bag. "Were you saving your last tea bag for something in particular?"

"Tea?"

He rolled his eyes. "Perhaps some hot milk instead. I'll turn the kettle off."

She had been intending to go shopping, but there was always something else more important to do. Tonight she had to get this review written, but the pressure she once used to enjoy being under now hindered her ability to write anything at all. Consequently, she hadn't managed to write any more before Harry returned. All she really wanted to do was to enjoy the rest of the evening, but she had invited him in because she knew he wouldn't let her until she'd done some work.

"What do you have so far?" he asked, putting two mugs down on the coffee table.

She showed him her notebook. "They looked very smart and sounded very professional," she summarised.

He nodded. "The audience seemed to enjoy it too. And I don't think they were all relatives of the orchestra."

She smiled. "Perhaps I'll leave that second bit out." She wrote and then paused, unable to think of anything else, so drank some of her hot milk, allowing Harry to do her thinking for her.

"What were you thinking about while they were playing?"

That was a good question. It was usually the first thing she wrote about, even if the paragraph got moved later. She was getting sloppy, waiting for an adventure. "I was watching how serious they looked and how hard they were concentrating. And how the music made me feel like I was on another world." They had played some of the The Planets Suite.

"I'd say Holst was imaginative chap. Or else the Doctor once took him on a tour."

"I wouldn't put it past him," she said, smiling. The Doctor wasn't a suitable subject for the review, but she wrote the rest down. She used to be able to do this on her own once, she just needed to be able to get back into the habit.

"I should go," he said, once they'd finished their milk and she had plenty of notes to write a glowing review from. "I have an early start in the morning."

She was disappointed he wasn't staying longer, but she couldn't argue with his reasons, so saw him to the door.

"Thank you for inviting me," he said as he put his coat on.

"I enjoyed your company."

He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek as was his habit at the end of an evening. But she turned her head so their lips met instead. She wondered for a moment if he'd pull away, but after a short hesitation, he kissed her back. And when they stopped he was smiling just as much as she was.

4.
"You really can cook," Sarah exclaimed over a roast dinner that was cooked to perfection.

"You needn't sound so surprised." Although Harry didn't sound too upset at her reaction.

"You just don't strike me as the type of man who can cook." Given Harry's views on what women should and shouldn't do, she was amazed he knew how to turn the oven on. "But I'm learning you have hidden depths."

He shook his head. "I'm just plain old Harry Sullivan."

Harry Sullivan he was, but plain he clearly wasn't. "Where did you learn?"

"At sea. I was friends with the chef. I saw him often, dealing with burns on his staff," he added with a smile. "It made a change from feet."

She frowned. "Feet?"

"A lot of standing up and wearing the same shoes all the time," he explained. "I think I saw the feet of every sailor on board in the space of six months."

"And there I was thinking your job was all glamour." She smiled.

"That's not the worst part. That's dealing with sea sickness."

Sarah made a face. "You'll put me off my dinner." Although it didn't done anything of the sort - it was too good not to eat. "I should let you cook more often," she said, thinking of the simple food she cooked that involved as little effort as possible.

"Better than that, I should teach you. After all, we can't have me being better at cooking than you, can we, old girl?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. He'd only eaten her cooking once and it wasn't that bad. She just hadn't learnt the art of finishing it all at the same time, so it ended up half burnt and half undercooked. But it wasn't too inedible and she'd never got ill from her own cooking. She didn't really need someone to teach her any more than she already knew, she just needed more practise. When she didn't get caught up in her writing and forgotten she'd got something in the oven or a saucepan boiling dry.

While they ate she considered Harry. He'd seem so ordinary when they first met, especially in comparison to the Doctor. But now Harry was here and the Doctor wasn't and she was learning all sorts of unexpected things about him. He supposed he was learning the same about her, although in her case she wasn't sure they were good things. It made her wonder what he saw in her.

"Why are you doing this, Harry?" she asked, putting her knife and fork down.

"Because you complained about always going to the same restaurants."

She shook her head, although that was a valid complaint. Harry seemed quite happy going to the same restaurant every Friday and eating the same thing and he'd been surprised when she'd said she wanted a change. "No, I mean why are you always doing so much for me?"

"Because you needed me," he replied and then, as if he was embarrassed by that show of emotion, he picked up both of their empty plates and took them into the kitchen.

Sarah followed him and leant against the door frame, watching him.

"I know I'll never measure up to the Doctor," he said, with his back to her, as he piled their plates in the sink. "But I hope I can show you there's life here on Earth too."

"There is, Harry," she said softly, and put a hand on his shoulder to turn him to face her. "Thank you," she said.

"For dinner?"

She shook her head. "For being there when I needed someone."

He had to wait until she'd finished kissing him before he could reply with, "My pleasure."

5.
"You know you really should leave this sort of thing to UNIT," Harry said, crouched beside her.

"And what are UNIT doing about it?"

"Nothing," he admitted. "They can't be everywhere and a Sontaran sighting in Sussex was more urgent."

Sarah gave him a look, considering he'd just answered his own question.

He sighed. "Come on then."

She smiled and they went opposite ways around the warehouse.

"You shouldn't be here," she said to the blue-skinned aliens, as she stood in the doorway with her arms folded. Telling them off always worked for the Doctor. Well, it was always the first thing he tried anyway.

"One human isn't going to stop us," one of them said to her and then went back to his packing.

They were, as far as she could tell, trading in weapons. Earth had enough problems as it was without adding ray guns into the mix. Especially when they looked more like water pistols than guns that could kill people.

She made a face at them dismissing her so quickly. It was just as well she had a backup plan. "Oh, I am going to stop you," she continued. The one who'd spoken to her made a noise dismissing her, but at least it covered the sound of the one at the back falling. "And you'd much rather I did because if you ignore me, then you'll have to deal with UNIT."

That did give him pause, she was glad to see. "What will they do?"

She wasn't sure exactly, but she wasn't going to let the aliens know that. "Lock you up, confiscate your weapons and send you home," she replied, in a confident tone.

"Your world doesn't have spaceship technology."

Sarah shrugged. "Then you'll sit in a cell and rot."

She thought for a moment that she might be getting through to him, but then Harry failed to catch one of the aliens he'd stunned before it fell. The one Sarah was talking to whirled round, a weapon in his hand trained on Harry. He was at least the only one left standing, but it still gave Sarah a fright.

"Harry!" she shouted, but he'd already seen, dropped his stun gun and put his hands up.

"Easy now," he said. "There's no need to shoot. I'm sure we can resolve this peacefully."

Sarah had a stun gun of her own tucked in her waistband - weapons that only stunned she was perfectly happy for UNIT to use. But she couldn't risk firing it in case the alien's finger twitched on the trigger.

"You killed them," the alien said.

Harry shook his head. "They're only stunned. See for yourself."

Harry looked very calm, Sarah noticed, as the alien bent to check the one lying nearest to him. Her heart was racing and her mouth was dry. Even though the Doctor wasn't around to get them out of trouble, Harry didn't seem to be scared for his own safety, but she was. Especially when Harry took the opportunity to kick the alien in the head.

"Sarah!" he shouted.

She got the message and while the alien was recovering, and not quite pointing his gun at Harry, Sarah pulled out her stun gun and shot him. She breathed a sigh of relief when he went down without a fuss. Then she ran over to Harry and hugged him hard. With her head near his shoulder she could hear his heart beating as fast as hers.

"Now we turn this over to UNIT?" he asked.

She nodded. "They have the equipment and manpower to lock them up," she conceded. "How long will they be unconscious for?"

"Oh, several hours, don't worry."

"Good," she said and kissed him, hard.

"I think," he said, when she let him go, "that you enjoyed that far too much."

She shook her head. "No, I think I enjoyed it just the right amount. But you didn't have to come."

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," he grumbled half-heartedly.

Maybe he was right, but on balance, she was glad that Harry was that someone.

She bit her lip and wouldn't look at him, which gave him a good clue as to what the answer was.

"Sarah," he said softly, "it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" She looked up at him then, a guilty expression on her face.

He shook his head. Of course it did, but he could hardly tell her that. "As long as we're still friends."

She smiled and he knew he'd done the right thing. Now he just had to work out how to fall out of love with Sarah Jane Smith.

"Oh, it was easy," he said, peeling her away from him. "All I had to do was--"

She cut him off, taking his hands briefly. "I don't care. You saved us, that's all I need to know." She beamed at him and stepped into the TARDIS.

Harry, who was no less grateful, but not so keen on the hugging, caught hold of the Doctor's arm before he could follow Sarah. "I'd like to know, Doctor."

The Doctor grinned at him and tapped the side of his nose.

She frowned and looked up from the toast she was buttering. "Why not?"

"Because..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "You're not in love with me." He waited for her to deny it, but she just put the knife down gently.

"Harry," she said softly, taking a step towards him.

He shook his head and she stopped. "At least we can still be friends."

She smiled, but he couldn't return it, so he left her to her breakfast.

However, there was only so much he could take of not knowing when and where one was when one stepped out of the TARDIS. Not to mention that it was, more often than not, straight into danger. No, he was definitely better staying here.

All she could do was to walk away, the back of her hand to her mouth, blinking back tears. Just that effort blocked out everything else and she didn't hear the car pulling up beside her until the driver called out her name.

"Sarah?"

Before she could turn round she took a deep breath, all ready to tell whoever it was to leave her alone, but when she did turn it wasn't someone she expected. Had she been in a better state of mind she would have realised he hadn't called her 'Sarah Jane' and she would have recognised the voice. As it was she cried out a small, "Oh!" at the sight of Harry Sullivan.

He hadn't changed a bit. She hadn't seen or heard from him for years and now he turned up at her wedding as if nothing had happened.

"Are you all right, old girl?" he asked, frowning.

She shook her head, not even being able to muster up the energy to complain at his use of 'old girl'. She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat so that when she spoke her voice was steady. "Can you give me a lift home, Harry?"

"If that's what you want."

He was still frowning at her - his expression the confused one she'd seen on him often that day they first met at UNIT. But it meant she managed to get in the passenger side before he could make a move to get out of the car and go around it to hold the door open for her. Ordinarily she'd have been victorious about it, but now she said nothing. As Harry drove she ignored him and stared out of the passenger window, although she took no notice of the passing scenery.

She only turned to face him when she realised they'd stopped for longer than could possibly be necessary for a red light. He looked worried, but she ignored that. "Why have we stopped?"

"I can't take you home without knowing where you live."

She did smile at that, if only briefly. "Bannerman Road, in Ealing."

He nodded, and pulled out back into the traffic. "I can get you to Ealing but you'll have to direct me from there."

She nodded. She could tell he was dying to ask what was going on, but she really didn't want to talk about herself at the moment. To deflect his attention she asked, "So what have you been up to, Harry?"

"Oh, you know," he replied but before she could point out that of course she didn't, he added, "Hush-hush stuff I can't talk about."

Usually she could get him to say something at least, but this time she didn't even try and just quietly said, "Left at the roundabout".

After that they both kept silent, except when she offered directions. It was only when they pulled up to her house, he said, "I heard you were getting married, so I had to come back and see what the poor man was getting himself into."

She very nearly let out a sob at that, but managed to bury it with a hand to her mouth and got out of the car as fast as she could. She didn't mind the neighbours thinking she was crazy, but that didn't mean she wanted them to know her business too.

Harry followed her which didn't surprise her. She waited until they were both inside and she'd shut the door before she let him take her in his arms and she cried on his shoulder. She was very glad he didn't ask any questions because she wasn't capable of talking just yet.

When she'd managed to stop the tears she took him by the hand and led him upstairs. He resisted a little and she almost smiled, imagining where he could be thinking she was taking him. She didn't trust her voice just yet, so she gave his arm a tug and he followed her up to the attic.

She sank down on the sofa, head in her hands as she thought about what she'd nearly done and imagined the attic empty of everything alien. Harry put an arm around her shoulders and she was about to say something when she heard the front door and started at the sound. As she sat stiffly, listening, she heard voices. Clyde and Rani had obviously come back with Luke.

The voices went away from the hall and into the lounge and she relaxed. She wasn't ready to talk to them yet. "I don't know where to start." Harry probably didn't even know who the Trickster was, and she didn't really want to go into detail.

"You were going to get married and now you're not."

She nodded. "It was all a trick to..." She bit her lip. "I loved him." Her voice cracked as she said it. "But now he doesn't even exist."

Harry rubbed her back. "I thought you were never going to get married."

"Stranger things have happened." She smiled at him. "My life hasn't turned out how I thought it would at all."

He smiled back. "Nor mine. I had it all planned out and then I met the Doctor."

She gazed at the floor at the mention of the Doctor. She wished he'd stayed. She would have liked to have talked to him. She thought that maybe he'd understand what had happened in a way that Harry never could. And at least she wouldn't have to explain the day's events to the Doctor.

Her gloves, she noticed, weren't as white as when she'd put them on. "I should get changed." And then get rid of the dress. She had no need for it now, and likely never would.

"I should go." Harry stood, quicker than she'd seen him move all day.

She nodded. If nothing else he'd made her smile, which he was good at - when he wasn't making her want to throttle him. "Come back soon." She wished he wasn't leaving so soon - just like the Doctor.

He hesitated. "I can't make any promises."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear at all, but she was glad he wasn't giving her false hope, especially today. So she nodded to show she understood and he kissed her on the cheek before he left.

When he opened the door, K9 came in. Sarah wondered where he'd been, but he did often spend time in Luke's room. He was almost more Luke's dog than hers these days. Having him here helped, so she said, "Good dog, K9."

"Yes, mistress."

She gave him a pat and turned back to Harry - who had disappeared. She wasn't expecting him to go that suddenly, so she ran to the top of the stairs to find he was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't have left that quickly and she would have heard the front door.

"Where's Harry gone, K9?" she asked once she was back in the attic.

"Query, mistress. Who is Harry?"

Sarah sighed. She was sure she didn't usually have to explain things quite this much. "Harry Sullivan. He was here when you came in."

"Negative, mistress. You were alone in the attic."

She frowned. "You didn't see him?"

"Negative."

She looked around the attic, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Was what odd, though, was the neat pile of clothes on the sofa. she was sure she would have noticed if she'd been sitting on them. "You can't be dead," she said to them. "You can't be a ghost." There had to be an explanation. She couldn't face losing Harry on top of losing Peter too.

While she changed she failed to think of one, so she sat down on the steps. K9 had ended up over there and she patted him to show that she didn't blame him for not giving her the right answers. Mr Smith might be able to find out where Harry was and what had happened to him, but she'd never asked for fear of getting the wrong answer. So she was not going to ask today, of all days.

But the thought of him still being here, and K9, and Luke, Clyde and Rani made her feel a little less alone at least. So she could put on a brave face for the people who needed to know she was all right.

However, it was strange coming back to this normal life that didn't involve aliens or life in other galaxies or a war with aliens that wanted to wipe out all life on Earth. She was glad she had gone - goodness knows what Mer might have done on his own - but she wasn't quite sure how her life would be the same again. She couldn't decide how much to let it either - she was facing the same choices as she had when she'd been pregnant with Madison and thinking of giving up her career.

"Excuse me."

She jumped at the voice coming from beside her on the bench. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed anyone sitting down. When she turned to her left she found that he was an older man with graying hair, who was dressed far too warmly for a sunny day.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump."

She smiled at his apology and noted the British accent. "It's all right. I was miles away." More miles, in fact, that he might ever have guessed.

"I thought I'd go for a walk and now I've got myself completely lost. I'm looking for the harbour."

She raised her eyebrows. "You are lost."

He sighed. "It's going to be a long walk back, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I could ring someone to come and get me, I suppose, but I never quite got the hang of this." He pulled a cellphone from his jacket pocket and frowned at it.

Jeannie couldn't help but smile. They were simple to use, but she could understand that older folks might not think so. "I can call someone for you, if you like. Do you know the number?"

"It's in here, under UNIT."

He passed the cell over and Jeannie scrolled through the menu. Most of the entries in there made no sense, although a few were ordinary names. It was snooping, but this was a man she'd only just met and it could be a trick. He looked honest enough, but you never could tell. Just in case, she made sure to keep one eye on him as she found the entry marked 'UNIT', dialled the number and handed the cell back.

He smiled as he took it, then stood up and stepped away to make the call. She strained to hear, and was glad that the words she could make out sounded like they matched with the story he'd told her. While he spoke Madison moved over to the slide and Jeannie made sure to applaud her as she reached the bottom. Madison gave her a big grin and went back for another go. The man stepped a little closer to Jeannie and confirmed that whoever he was talking to could work out his position from his cellphone, which made it sound like they were the CSIS or something.

When he finished he frowned at the cell and sat back down. Jeannie tensed, keeping an eye on Madison and made sure she was ready to run over to her if necessary. If this man was involved with the same sort of people Mer was, who knew what could be going on.

But he said, "Do you know how I put the phone down?" and Jeannie smiled in relief. She happily pressed the button for him, and then he put the cell back in his pocket.

"Thank you. I swear I should be used to it by now. Harry Sullivan," he added, and held out his hand. "It won't be long before I get an escort back."

She shook his hand. "Jeannie Miller." At least she had a name now, and maybe she could find out more, since neither of them were going anywhere for a few minutes, at least. "What brings you to Vancouver?"

"Work." He paused and frowned. "I'm in the Navy," he added, as if that explained everything.

What the British Navy were doing this side of Canada, she didn't know. She hadn't seen anything about it in the news and she had been studying it carefully since she got back, just in case she saw anything strange that might suggest the Wraith were on their way here. "So how do you like Vancouver?"

"Wet. It reminds me of home." He smiled, although she thought that maybe he sounded a little homesick. She would be if she were in his position.

"It's good to be home," she said. She smiled at Madison who applauded herself as she successfully slid down the slide. She was glad that Mer was beginning to see that she had made the right decision four years ago. And now that they were talking again, maybe she didn't have to decide between her family and physics this time. After all, there was email, even between here and the Pegasus galaxy.

"Sometimes the people who love you are just as important as saving the world," she added. He raised his eyebrows at that and she couldn't blame him. World saving was not exactly a common job. "My brother saves the world," she explained, a note of pride creeping into her voice.

A shadow passed over his face. "I'm glad to hear there are people doing that."

"Commodore Sullivan."

This time they were both startled by the man who had approached the bench. A British sailor, Jeannie assumed, although she wasn't sure if they usually wore red berets.

"Tell him to keep up the good work," Harry said as he stood up.

"I will," Jeannie replied, nodding, and went to push Madison on the swings.

"Stay down, old girl," a voice whispered in her ear.

Sarah rolled her eyes, conveniently forgetting that she'd come to the same conclusion only a moment ago.

"It's a cinema, Harry," she hissed back.

"Oh." Then his weight was off her, so she stood up and dusted herself down.

From behind her she heard a clunk that was the TARDIS door closing, then the Doctor's voice cut across a quiet moment in the film. "Well, now, didn't I say..." He didn't get to finish his sentence before he was shushed by the people in the seats closest to the police box.

"I don't think this is Scotland, Doctor," Harry pointed out before she could.

"Well, I must admit this wasn't exactly what I expected," the Doctor said, and at least he whispered it this time.

Sarah sighed. Why she'd thought the Doctor would get them to where they were meant to be she didn't know. "We're in a cinema," she told him, just in case he hadn't worked that out for himself.

"On a ship," Harry put in.

Sarah looked over at him. It made sense of the way the floor moved, but why hadn't he said something sooner? "I think we should find the exit," she whispered to them both.

"Good idea, old girl."

Sarah rolled her eyes again, not that it did her much good in here. "Don't call me old girl."

"Ah, there's the exit." The Doctor pointed towards the green illuminated sign on the other side of the cinema from where they stood. He was shushed again, but ignored them to stride across the room, apologising to people on the way. Sarah and Harry hurried in his wake, Harry with a muffled "Ow" as he walked into a row of seats. Sarah decided that was only fair. All the same, she was relived to get through the cinema without doing it herself.

"Now, where do you suppose we are, Harry?" the Doctor asked.

Harry frowned and looked round. From here they could see out of the windows on one side at a sea that looked more brown than Sarah had ever seen on Earth. Or it could have been that the windows were dirty. The only other thing to give them any clues to their location was the corridor they were in and that looked like any old ship as far as Sarah could tell, from her limited experience.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "It's rather hard to say. All oceans look the same when you can't see any land. Don't you know?"

"Of course I do." He slung his scarf over his shoulder and started off down the corridor in a huff.

"Don't antagonise him," Sarah said to Harry as they struggled to keep up with the Doctor.

"Don't antagonise him, I like that. What about him antagonising me?"

Sarah thought that it was quite reasonable asking a sailor where they were when they were clearly at sea, but decided it was probably best to drop the subject. Harry was prevented from saying more when the Doctor stopped suddenly.

"Oh, look, they have a shop! I do like a good gift shop." And then the Doctor was off again, poking at the racks of keyrings, pens and various other tat.

"It would be nice to at least know what planet we're on, at least." Sarah sighed as she leant back against the wall. She hoped they were on Earth as she was worried at the idea that other planets had the sort of tat you got in gift shops. She'd long outgrown the need for brightly-coloured rubbers and oversized pencils, so this one held no charm for her.

"Somewhere in the English Channel, I'd say." Harry had a suspicious-looking glint in his eye.

Sarah frowned. "How do you know that?" He sounded very smug for someone who had professed to know nothing a few minutes ago.

He pointed at a sign. "Cross-channel ferry. All the signs are in English and French."

"Very good, Sherlock." It explained why it looked a little familiar at least - she remembered going from Dover to Calais once when she was younger. "How about the date?"

"A little way into your future," the Doctor put in, passing her a newspaper.

She had a quick look at the date at the top and then realised a short, balding man nearby looked upset, so she smiled and handed the newspaper back. He snatched it off her and stalked off without saying a word. So far it was going typically not well.

"Please don't antagonise the natives, Doctor." Even if the natives were English or French.

"Why don't we go up on deck and get some fresh air?" Harry suggested before the Doctor could answer that and antagonise Sarah.

"Good idea, Harry." The Doctor smiled broadly and Sarah gave a sigh of relief.

~*~*~

Out on deck the Doctor took his yo-yo out. Harry took a deep breath and smiled. "Smell that sea air."

Sarah wasn't convinced about that; it smelt a little like a sewage plant to her. She decided to ignore the Doctor as he probably wanted someone to ask him what he was doing, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He'd tell them eventually. She smiled at Harry instead. "Do you miss it?"

"Now and then." He wondered over to the side to lean against the barrier and peer down at the sea.

"Only now and then," she teased as she followed him, hoping he might admit to more than that, given the expression she'd briefly seen on his face before he'd spoken. However, she forgot all about that when she looked over the side. "What's that?" She pointed at what looked like a few white tentacles appearing out of the water.

"I don't know. I can't think of anything that looks like that that lives in the English Channel." He sounded worried. Sarah couldn't blame him. They never could go anywhere nice without something bad happening.

They both turned to ask the Doctor, who was still playing with his yo-yo with a hurt expression on his face and didn't look up at all. Before they could say anything the ferry gave a sudden lurch. Sarah and Harry were thrown against the railing. Sarah grimaced as the breath was knocked out of her. Harry grabbed her arm, although as he had also lost his footing that wasn't very helpful and it was only her instinctive hold on the railing that prevented them both from falling.

The Doctor slid over to them and peered over the side. "Oh dear," he said, in a masterful understatement.

Sarah turned to look back at the sea and noticed the thing with tentacles had an awful lot of tentacles and it was climbing up the side of the ferry. "What is it, Doctor?" She couldn't tell whether it was something he'd come across before, or he was just as confused as they were.

The ferry tilted even further, as if it were determined never to let the Doctor answer their question, regardless of whether they'd had the chance to ask it. Harry had a worried expression on this face as people who had just picked themselves up were thrown to the floor again. One man screamed as he fell over the side. The scream abruptly cut off as he fell into the tentacled beast. The only noise that came after was a glugging sound.

Sarah put her hand over her mouth and looked away. Harry let go of her and put his arm loosely round her shoulders. She wanted to tell him she was all right, but she couldn't help thinking of just how close the creature was and how she and Harry might have gone the same way, had the railing been less secure where they were standing.

The Doctor's eyes were boggling. "It looks like a Lepas anatifera. They usually eat plankton, though."

By this time it was well out of the water, and it was safe to say there were no plankton on the side of the ferry. Besides, that man had definitely been far bigger than plankton and the creature hadn't even paused. She had another quick look and discovered it was moving up the side of the ferry faster than she thought something that size could move. It was all the tentacles, she supposed. "Um, Doctor. Unless you have a way of sending it back into the sea, I think we'd better get further away from it."

"What, do nothing and let it attack another ship after it's finished with this one?"

He had a point, which meant it would be harder to stop than she thought, but now really wasn't the time or place to debate it. Since the Doctor showed no signs of moving, she grabbed his hand and forced him to run with her, down the stairs and back inside. Not that she thought it would hold the creature off for long, but it was a start.

Once inside and a little safer, Sarah looked around and frowned at what she saw - or rather what shedidn't see. "Where's Harry?" She had been so sure he wanted to be away from it just as much as she did that she'd just assumed he was following.

"Oh, he found someone who'd been knocked out. He was putting them in the recovery position. Although he really needs to be more up-to-date with that," the Doctor replied, idly.

Sarah, feeling guilty for not paying enough attention, just shook her head and started back towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" the Doctor called after her.

She didn't slow down as she called back, "To get Harry." Rescue might well be a better word, although she hoped that wouldn't be necessary.

"No, you're not, it's far too dangerous." He caught up with her and took hold of her arm.

She was forced to stop and tug her arm out of his grasp. At least he let her, and in return she stayed where she was for the time being. "We can't just leave him there."

"No, of course not," he said as if it had been his idea in the first place. "I'll go."

"What difference does it make?" She was frustrated now at the Doctor treating her like, well, like a girl. She expected this from Harry, not him.

"Because I have a way of stopping it." He grinned at her. She sighed and let him go past her and back out on deck. After he was gone she looked around the room and frowned. The sign on the door had said 'Family Lounge', but now it was full of frightened people cowering in their seats. A baby was crying somewhere near the back. As much as she wanted to reassure them everything would be all right, she didn't have anything concrete, beyond knowing that with the Doctor around, it usually was. Besides, she didn't want to miss out on all the action.

~*~*~

The Doctor turned out to be easy to find, since the deck was empty of people except for him. Sarah hoped that meant Harry was somewhere safer, along with whatever casualties he'd found. The Doctor was leaning over the rail at the creature, holding one arm out and looking pensive.

"Doctor," Sarah called out, and he turned to face her.

He frowned at her. "I thought I told you to stay inside."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't." He might have implied it, but he didn't actually say it. Not that she would have listened anyway. "Do you know how to stop it?"

He straightened his hat on his head with one hand. "I think I can hold it off for a while with the sonic screwdriver."

That explained why his arm was still over the side. Sarah cautiously went closer to find he had the sonic screwdriver in his hand and, although the creature wobbled slightly, it wasn't coming any closer. Which explained why the ferry had stopped tilting so violently. "And then what?" She tried not to sound too worried, since this was all in a day's work these days, but she didn't succeed.

The Doctor smiled at her. "Phosphoric acid."

She frowned. "What?"

"Phosphoric acid is well known for poisoning goose barnacles."

Was that what the Latin term meant? She supposed that now he mentioned it, the tentacles did look a bit like the necks of geese.

"Quickly, Sarah," he added, when she didn't say anything.

Sarah went back downstairs, trying to think of where on a ferry there might be a source of phosphoric acid. The Doctor sounded confident that there would be, but surely there wasn't a science lab on board. The name sounded familiar for some reason, but she couldn't say why. There wasn't time to be delving into the depths of the TARDIS to find the library. She should have asked the Doctor really, but she didn't want to appear ignorant by going back now.

When she ran through the Family Lounge she ignored the shouts in her direction. She had more important things to do and they'd be safe soon enough anyway. She hoped. A few corridors along and somewhere in the vicinity of the shop the Doctor had been so enamoured she ran into Harry. Literally.

"Careful, old girl," he said, offering her a hand up even as he stood himself.

She took it. "The Doctor's holding it off, but it's nearly on him and I need your help."

"Well, I have rather a lot to do here." He waved a hand to indicate the injured people around him that he had somehow managed to collect in one place. Sarah didn't know how he'd done it in the time. He'd even found a first aid box and a stretcher.

"If we don't stop it you'll have more to do," she pointed out. "And you can't be the only doctor on board."

Harry looked torn and Sarah decided the Doctor could wait a little longer. "I'll find one." She went off back the way she came.

She opened the door to the room full of people and seats and shouted, "Is anyone a doctor?"

A young blonde woman stood up. "Me." Sarah wondered at that because she didn't even look old enough to be out of medical school yet. Some of that must have shown on her face because the woman added, "Well, I'm in my final year."

"You'll do," Sarah decided. Besides, she was curious to see what reaction Harry would have to a female doctor. She was pretty enough that he'd probably be flustered, but he was busy enough that he might not notice. "We really need you outside."

The woman nodded. "I'm Catherine," she said, as she followed Sarah's fast walk.

"Sarah," she replied, although now wasn't the best time for introductions.

"Harry," she called, once they were there. "Here's your doctor." She decided not to mention the final year medical student bit.

Sarah didn't have a chance to introduce her, though, because as soon as Harry stood back up the woman dropped to her knees, pulling out a pen light and looking into one of the patients' eyes.

"Um," Harry said.

Sarah bit back a smile. "We're in the future, remember?" she whispered, wondering if he was complaining about Catherine's technique and hoping it wasn't about her gender because otherwise he'd have Sarah to answer to.

Harry sighed. "All right. What do you need?"

"Phosphoric acid," Sarah said, triumphantly.

"Why on earth didn't you say before?"

She gave him a look because she couldn't see any way she was in the wrong here. "Where are we going to get that from on a ferry?"

"It's in soft drinks."

Sarah's mouth fell open. Then she realised Harry had already run off, probably towards the bar. She hadn't known that, but she wondered if the Doctor did and had assumed she had too. Or just hoped she'd magic a source of it out of thin air. Now she came to think of it, she'd seen a variety of drinks in the TARDIS kitchen, but it was hard to think clearly when your best friend looked as if he was about to be eaten.

Fortunately, there was no one behind the bar to explain themselves to. The crew probably had more important things to do than serve drinks and no one was asking for any. Harry was already pulling cans out of one of the fridges and he passed her a load, saying, "Here." They were cold and slippery, but she had them up to her chin before he gathered some in his arms, emptying the small fridge.

It was difficult to run with their loads, so a few cans escaped from each of them and Sarah nearly tripped over Harry's spills. They got confused looks from everyone they passed, which helped when Harry shouted for them to open the door. Although they'd probably have done it anyway - it wasn't a tone of voice she'd heard on Harry before and she almost itched to follow his orders too.

Once they made it back onto the deck, the Doctor wasn't where Sarah had left him. She could only think the worst when she saw the ripped railing where he had been standing. "Oh, no!" She nearly dropped her armful of cans. "The Doctor was standing right there." She stared at the spot where he had been.

"I'm sure he's fine. He always is."

Sarah swallowed and nodded, but she was less sure about that than Harry sounded.

"First we need to deal with the creature. Then we can worry about the Doctor."

Knowing he was right, Sarah pulled herself together. The goose barnacle wasn't hard to track, given the trail of destruction it had left in its wake. Along with the sea water, which was definitely brown. It had gone across the deck, going higher all the time, which didn't make sense to Sarah, but at least it meant the people she'd left were still safe, at least for now.

"Sarah! Harry!" They looked up to find the Doctor perched on the top of the driver's cabin. It probably wasn't called that, Sarah thought, but she'd never really needed to look at a ferry this closely before. The goose barnacle wasn't far below him and a few of the tentacles nearly made contact with the end of his scarf.

"Doctor," Harry called back. "Do you need any of these?"

"Yes, please, Harry."

He must have been worried, Sarah thought, given that his answer to such an obvious question hadn't been sarcastic at all. Harry dropped most of his armful of cans, but when he threw a couple to the Doctor he did at least have perfect aim, so Sarah wasn't going to fault him for the cans rolling around their feet.

The Doctor opened one of the cans and threw one onto the goose barnacle. It immediately writhed and let go of the wall with most of its tentacles. The second can made it fall to the deck with a squelch. It wasn't dead, though, because it still slithered and Sarah took an involuntary step backwards when it headed towards her. Harry plucked a can from her arms, opened it and threw it at the goose barnacle. She took a deep breath and held her ground. Although that turned out to be difficult once a couple more cans hit it and it waved its tentacles even more. The ferry tilted further and Sarah fell over with an "Oof," and dropped the rest of her cans as she put her hands out to break her fall.

From here, however, she could easily pick up the cans rolling around. Harry had managed to keep his feet, so she kept passing him cans and he kept throwing them like a production line. Behind the goose barnacle she could see the Doctor making his way down from his perch, but the creature was between them and he had no cans.

The writhing gradually slowed down and stopped, then the goose barnacle started frothing. Sarah, worried that it might explode, quickly got up, but the Doctor seemed unconcerned and inspected it.

"Don't get too close, Doctor," Harry warned him. He seemed just as happy as Sarah to keep his distance.

"Oh, it's perfectly safe. Just a common or garden goose barnacle, mutated by the pollution in the sea."

Sarah frowned. She'd heard of mutations caused by radiation and such like, but turning a harmless creature into a cold-blooded monster sounded more like something that belonged in a book like Frankenstein. "There's not that much, surely?"

"We're in the future, Sarah, remember?" he called back.

She had remembered, especially given that the sea wasn't a normal colour, as much as its proximity made Harry happy. She worried a little about what had been going on in the world and said nothing.

"How about a drink?" The Doctor grinned at them.

"Shouldn't we do something about the goose barnacle?" Sarah pointed to it.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nothing we can do until we reach land."

"And how long's that?"

It was Harry who answered. "I don't think it'll be very long at all."

Sarah turned to see where he was looking and saw the coast of France. Or was it England? It all looked the same from this distance.

"Right, then, Harry, off you go."

Harry frowned at the Doctor. "Where?"

"Well, to drive the boat, of course," he said, as if everyone should automatically know what he was talking about, which was quite often untrue.

He shook his head. "I don't know how to steer a ferry. Why can't the captain do it?"

"He's dead. The goose barnacle ate him."

Sarah bit her lip wondering how close the Doctor had come to being eaten and just how many other people had been.

"And you're a sailor, aren't you?" the Doctor continued.

"Yes, but I'm a doctor, not a ferry captain. I wouldn't know where to start."

"Neither do I. So perhaps we'll just crash instead." The Doctor grinned.

Harry sighed.

"Maybe you should have a look and see if there's anything you can do," Sarah suggested, trying to appease both of them since they did need someone to drive and the Doctor seemed unlikely to back down.

"All right," Harry said. He didn't sound happy about it, but he headed up there anyway.

"Right, well, let's go and have that drink, shall we?" The Doctor smiled at Sarah.

"Actually, I think I might see if I can help Harry," she said apologetically. She was feeling a bit guilty about leaving him alone up there if he really didn't know what to do. To say nothing of how she'd treated him the whole time since they landed here.

The Doctor gave her a look and then shrugged. "Off you go then."

She did, and when she got up into the cabin she found Harry frowning at the controls. There were so many buttons and switches and dials and read-outs that she wasn't surprised.

"Any ideas?" she asked him.

"Just one. I don't dare touch any of these in case it doesn't do what I think it will. But the radio I can operate." He smiled at her and reached for the radio. The conversation that followed involved a lot of jargon and an explanation of what had happened that the person on the other end couldn't make sense of, which didn't surprise Sarah. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes she might not have believed it. At last Harry signed off and smiled at her again.

"So what's happening?" It had almost been like they'd been speaking a different language and she hadn't been able to make head or tail of most of the conversation.

"They're sending a pilot out to guide the ferry into port."

"Oh, that's clever." Sarah did feel much better that someone who knew what they were doing would be in charge of not crashing into the coast.

He looked a little hurt. "Try not to sound too surprised."

"Sorry." For all she knew Harry would be a perfectly good driver, she just wouldn't want to bet her life on it.

"He knows how to operate the controls and where to go. Which is a lot more than I know," he pointed out.

"The Doctor wouldn't have thought of that," she said, trying to atone for her earlier reaction. "He'd have just touched everything and ended up getting us into trouble. Again."

Harry smiled. "He does have a tendency to do that."

Sarah smiled back. "And then blame us." The coastline loomed nearer and Sarah tried not to show Harry how worried she was about that. Presumably the pilot would show up in time, but there was no way to guarantee that. What if Harry had called him too late?

She clearly hadn't been doing well at hiding her feelings, or else Harry was thinking the same thing, because he pointed at a small boat coming towards them. "There's the pilot."

"Oh, good," she breathed. And then realised how that sounded. "I wasn't worried."

"No, of course not," he said in mock agreement.

She punched him in the arm. He pretended it had hurt.

The pilot, when he arrived, spoke French very fast, which neither Sarah nor Harry understood. But it did at least tell Sarah roughly where they were. In the grand scheme of the things, the French coastline on Earth was really quite specific.

Fortunately, the pilot didn't seem to care that neither of them answered him and went about doing his job, guiding the ferry into port. Sarah wondered if they should leave him to it, but Harry made no move to go - he was too busy watching the pilot work - and as much as she worried what the Doctor was doing she knew he wouldn't leave without them, so she didn't leave Harry, in a show of support. Especially as she'd been particularly unsupportive up until now.

When they arrived, the pilot told them something in French that Sarah didn't have a hope of catching, then left.

"I did French at school," Sarah said, "but all I can tell you about what he said was that it was French. Probably."

"School was a long time ago," Harry agreed.

"We might not know the language but I think we've earned ourselves a trip to France. What do you think?" Sarah smiled, hoping he'd agree. It would be nice to do something pleasant and non-life threatening while they were here. Besides, it had been a while since she'd last been to France.

"I think you might be right, old girl."

"Don't call me old girl."

Even so, she was happy enough to follow all the other people leaving the ferry for the terminal and dry land at last. Even if the ferry had evened out at the end she was glad to be on solid ground that wouldn't move beneath her feet. Everyone was chattering about what had happened, although none of them really knew. Sarah took Harry's arm and grinned up at him. Harry grinned back, both of them sharing the secret now they were safe and it was all over.

Their grins disappeared quickly, though, when they reached the front of the queue and a man at a desk who asked for their passports. Harry looked at Sarah in horror, but she couldn't think of anything. There wasn't going to be a good excuse for being on a ferry where people had been injured and died and not having a passport. As much as she wanted to see some of France, she'd much rather it wasn't from a jail cell.

At their hesitation the man at passport control sat up straighter and said something into a walkie-talkie. Sarah turned round, wondering if they'd be able to make a run for it, back to the ferry, but the gates were shut. She was starting to feel slightly panicky when she heard the welcome noise of the TARDIS landing.

The Doctor popped his head out of the door and said, "Would anyone like a lift?" with a big grin on his face.

"Doctor!" Relieved, Sarah ran over to him, Harry right behind her. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, just had a mutated Lepas anatifera to deal with. You know how it is."

"Oh, I do," she agreed and they stepped inside to welcome safety, free from the wrath of the French border officials.

Note: Goose barnacles eat plankton and attach themselves to ships in the ocean. Not normally found around England or France, but one washed up recently on a beach in Wales.

Jack Harkness might well be a Captain, but not in any military I know. There's none that would ever sanction his conduct towards men or women. Why, if I acted the way he did I'd have been thrown out on my ear years ago! Not that I would ever flirt with men or treat women so badly. Oh, he doesn't do anything too terrible: if he did I'd intervene. No, I think he thinks everyone is here purely for his own enjoyment and there's nothing that stops him from flirting with every man here. And this project is entirely staffed by military personnel, so you can imagine how his behaviour is received.

In fact, the answer is: quite well, considering. The women love him, the men tolerate him and I wouldn't be surprised if he'd flirted with the base commander: a man you wouldn't cross unless you particularly enjoy having everyone on the project hear exactly how he thinks you've screwed up. Perhaps Harkness doesn't care, I don't know.

Yet I can't help admiring him, just a little, but I wouldn't admit to it even if you pointed a gun at me. He's entirely uncaring of how society tells us he should act and never minds what anyone's opinion is of him. His life seems free, I think. Not that I'd ever be tempted to act as he does, it just wouldn't be proper.

And I do wish he would give up flirting with me. Why on earth he thinks I'll ever give in to him, I don't know.

"You British, you're all so repressed." He said that on a nearly daily basis. Sometimes I answered him, sometimes I ignored him. Today I chose to answer.

"Maybe you should go back to America in that case."

"Where's the fun in that?" Harkness grinned. "You're all so in the closet it's amazing you can see at all."

I folded my arms. "Was there something you wanted, Harkness?"

"Call me Jack." He lowered his voice in a way that I imagine is supposed to be sexy. Of course, it had no such effect on me.

"Was there something you wanted, Captain?" Everyone on the project went by their title or last name, but Harkness had to be different. Most people did call him Jack, I just didn't intend to be one of them. That would imply a far closer relationship with him than I'd like.

Harkness sighed. "One day, Harry, I swear, one day..." He left the threat at that and walked away. I couldn't say I was scared, particularly.

~*~*~

Although it was Harry and Sarah's annual dinner date Harry hadn't been to it for so many years now that he didn't think it qualified as annual any more. Neither was he at all sure Sarah would show up. He had just assumed she'd remember the date and be there as always and it was only once he was in the usual restaurant that he wondered if that was the case at all. It wasn't that she was particularly flighty, just busy and even if she did remember she might have something more important to do.

To while away the time he drank water, fiddled with his cuffs, loosened his cravat and then tightened it again, and told himself that Sarah was often late. There was always an excuse - usually some story she was running to or from and Harry would always find himself ending up being understanding by the end of the night, however annoying it was when he was sat alone at their table at 8 o'clock on the dot.

Just as he was smoothing out a non-existent crease in the tablecloth, he thought he heard her voice, followed by another that sounded awfully like someone he'd known twenty years ago. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying over the Italian background music and he had convinced himself that it was unlikely it was him when Sarah came into view, followed by the man Harry had half-hoped never to see again: Jack Harkness.

Harry didn't want to know what she was doing with him, but as they were headed for the table Harry sat at, he was probably best off assuming Sarah was innocent and just here for their dinner and he would ignore Harkness for the moment. There was always a chance that would work, even if it was only a slim one.

He smiled at Sarah and pulled out her chair as she said, "I heard a rumour that your current assignment had finished."

So that explained how she knew to come here this year, although not how she'd found out in the first place. That she knew at all he was unsurprised by - Sarah hated mysteries and would have gone out of her way to solve his disappearance. And to think he thought he'd made himself hard to find too.

She didn't sit down yet and Harkness was still hovering, so Harry was glad she hadn't said or done anything else to give Harkness something to watch. "You look well, Sarah." He was glad to see it - he had worried about what she might be getting up to while he was away and couldn't keep an eye on her. "But how would you know anything about my current assignment?"

"I've got contacts." That told him nothing, since he already knew that. "Oh, Harry, have you met Jack Harkness?" She waved in Harkness's general direction. "Jack, this is Harry Sullivan."

Harkness looked as if he hadn't aged a day and there was a glint in his eye that told Harry he recognised him, despite Harry's now-greying hair and wrinkled skin. Harry was sure he was blushing, given the amusement Sarah was struggling not to show and Harkness's chuckle. His salute wasn't a help either, even if it was an acknowledgement that Harry now outranked a mere Captain. "You're still looking quite fit, sailor."

Harry wondered if the floor could just open up now and save him from the memories Harkness was deliberately triggering with his words. "Sir," was all he dared say at this point, and he saluted back, temporarily allowing the ingrained actions to take over, so he didn't have to think.

Harry looked over at Sarah, hoping she hadn't noticed the undercurrents of his conversation with Harkness or guessed what really went on between the two of them. He still worried that she did know something and fervently wished she hadn't brought Harkness over here at all. Given that she'd introduced them she probably knew nothing of the history between them, but it didn't set his mind at rest particularly.

Before any of them could say anything more, Harkness reached out and shook Harry's hand and Harry heartily wished he'd had notice of that so he could have wiped it on his trouser leg first. "It was good seeing you both again, but my party has arrived so I must take my leave."

Feelings he hadn't thought about for years came rushing back as he stood there, holding Harkness's hand and looking into eyes that told him Harkness remembered as much as he did. Harkness squeezed Harry's hand before he released it and then turned to Sarah to give her a flirtatious look and say, "Still looking good, ma'am."

Harry frowned at his retreating back, wondering just how Sarah knew him and what the two of them had got up to. The thought went straight out of his mind when he saw Harkness's date was a young man, who Harkness had no second thoughts about kissing in a crowded restaurant. Harry swallowed hard at the sight and found that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't keep his eyes off the pair.

Fortunately, he was interrupted by the sound of Sarah sitting down, and Harry went back to his side of the table to sit opposite her and pour her a glass of water while he recovered his composure.

"I hadn't realised you two had met before," she said, just as curious as he remembered.

That much was obvious from Harkness's actions, however cautious Harry had tried to be. "I worked with Torchwood on a project back in the 80s, before we lost the funding." Which was the exact truth of how they'd met, if not how they knew each other. "And how do you know him?" He couldn't help but continue to be suspicious about that.

"It's not what you think," she replied, taking a sip of her water. "He's another former companion of the Doctor who I met during the Dalek invasion. The Doctor says hello by the way." She took the wine list from him and began studying it.

"How would you know what I think? And when have you ever cared about my opinion?" It wasn't an accusation since Sarah didn't really care about anyone's opinion. She was like Harkness in that respect, if no other, thankfully. He smiled at her to misdirect her attention as she glanced up from the wine list. "I don't think I ever got used to him flirting with everything that moves." And he didn't think he ever would.

~*~*~

I swear I have never seen the like before. Even Sarah's description of the Doctor's regeneration had nothing on this. In light of what happened I really couldn't be blamed for dropping the tray of instruments I was carrying at the time. Ten years ago I'd definitely said such a thing was impossible, but since then I've seen so many seemingly-impossible things that this was merely improbable. Albeit very improbable. "What are you?" He couldn't possibly be human.

"I'm not a robot, if that's what you're thinking."

No, I've seen robots and Harkness definitely isn't one of them. The way he sat up, grinning and not caring when the sheet fell off him rather suggested he was human.

"I'm self-healing." He jumped off the bed and took advantage of my inattention to stand nearly nose to nose with me. I was focussed on his wound, I swear. "I can't die."

I rather noticed that and I frowned at him, since that told me very little. "How long as this been going on?" I reached out a hand because I couldn't believe my own eyes telling me the wound was no longer there. I honestly had no other reason for wanting to touch him.

Not that he cared anyway. "Since the Daleks killed me." There was a sadness in his voice I'd never heard before.

It made me look up at his face. "You've met them?"

"So have you. Nasty little critters, aren't they?" His grin was back already.

Those weren't the words I'd have used, but I knew what he meant. They're certainly not a race I'd ever like to see again. "How is this possible?" People didn't just get up again after Daleks killed them and I couldn't think of any medical reason that would explain it. He didn't answer at first and I bent down to pick up my tray as I mulled over the tests I could do on Harkness to find out what was going on.

His hand clasped mine as I picked up the tweezers. "I've had every medical test known to man run on me. They all say I'm just an ordinary human being. You won't find anything."

As extraordinary as it all sounds I was inclined to believe him. Whatever Harkness is like in public, from the unfortunate few times I've been alone with him I've noticed he's perfectly honest and open in private. Besides, it wasn't as if I could do anything without his consent. So I nodded, but Harkness still didn't let go of my hand. In fact, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. I was too startled to do anything to stop him, or even take my hand away afterwards.

"I do love a man who works out." He still had one hand free to run across my chest and there was only my shirt between us, it being summer and no need for more layers.

I wasn't sure what he meant at all, except I knew it was a compliment and there was none of his usual flirty tone beneath it. Why my palms became so suddenly sweaty or my heartbeat increased I couldn't say. When Harkness leaned closer and kissed me I felt it would be rude not to return it.

When he pulled away from me I couldn't have said that I wanted him to stop at all.

~*~*~

"No one can find out." Jack had discovered, at some stage, just how to get me to make a noise and he did it now, running his teeth along my collarbone and I couldn't help gasping. But as much as I would in all likelihood enjoy whatever he planned to follow that up with, I really needed to have this conversation before it was too late. So I put a hand under Jack's chin to make him face me.

His answer was to grin and kiss me. Just because he didn't care didn't mean I was the same. I valued my career and didn't intend to have it end because of him. I rolled my eyes before I closed them, but at least Jack didn't make it a long kiss and afterwards he asked, "What's the big secret for?"

"This is illegal in the Navy. If they find out we've been..." I couldn't bring myself to say the words, it would make it sound so wrong, no matter how it had felt. "I'll be thrown out."

"There's no fun in an ex-sailor." He put on a mock-sad expression that didn't fool me for a moment.

I sighed. "This is important." Of all things I desperately needed Jack not to treat this as a joke. It mattered to me.

"All right. But we'll have to carry on the same way as before. I'll still flirt with everyone, including you," he punctuated the last two words with a lowered voice and a hand moving down my stomach, "and you give me funny looks and resist."

I shook my head - I don't know what he was thinking. "I don't give you funny--"

Jack cut me off with another kiss and I tried to pretend the funny feeling in my stomach wasn't jealousy at imagining Jack with other people. I didn't have much success, but Jack was good at taking one's mind off things.

A bottle of red, a bottle of white
Whatever kind of mood you're in tonight
I'll meet you any time you want
In our Italian Restaurant.

When she'd recovered enough to tell him she'd have to think about it, he had looked disappointed. She suspected that his romantic idea had ended with her saying 'yes', but she wasn't going to jump into it. The evening had gone slightly downhill after that and she'd ended up at home, unable to sleep for thinking about it.

In order to help her decide, she'd attempted to write down any reasons she could find to marry Harry and reasons not to marry him. Under the former she had 'Great sex'. Under the latter she had nothing. One reason - especially that one - wasn't enough of a good motivation to marry someone, however.

After a moment's thought she added 'He understands about the Doctor and aliens' and then crossed it out. She couldn't imagine marrying someone who didn't know about the existence of aliens, even if she'd have to convince them. But there were plenty of other people who also knew and she had no intention of marrying them.

Harry's proposal hadn't been any sort of arrangement on his part either, because he did love her. He'd told her that once, although not again since that first time. More out of curiosity than uncertainty she'd once asked if that was still the case. He'd given her a funny look and said, "Of course I do, old girl," as if saying it once meant it was obvious after that. She supposed it was obvious to Harry, but he didn't seem to have considered the idea that it was nice to hear it from time to time, or that it was possible to fall out of love.

Even so, she didn't want him to do that because she loved him too. It had taken her a while to realise that he wasn't just convenient, but he was sweet and thoughtful and treated her far better than any other man had. Oh, he frustrated her, sometimes to the point where she was ready to walk out, but somehow, in comparison, anyone else was too tame. She could no longer imagine herself in a relationship with someone who wasn't Harry.

She supposed she should have written this down in the 'Reasons to marry Harry' column, but it seemed too obvious. The trouble was, she decided, was she was trying to think about this logically and love wasn't logical. If when she first met Harry someone had told her she would be in this position she would have laughed at them.

She sighed, screwed up the sheet of paper and threw it at the bin. It missed. She decided not to take that as a sign and called Harry. She knew he wouldn't be upset at being woken in the middle of the night once she gave him her answer.

~*~*~

Sarah stretched lazily and smiled when she encountered a still-naked Harry. She'd had a job the night before to convince him not to put his pyjamas on and she only won because neither of them were sure where anything was. They'd made the bed the previous evening, then fallen into it, but apart from that everything in their new flat was in boxes. If they'd just been able to agree whose flat to live in there wouldn't have been such a problem, but the only way they'd been able to compromise was if they both moved. Even if it was a compromise that negated both their arguments on the subject. At least they'd been able to agree on that.

"Good morning, Mrs Sullivan."

Sarah opened her eyes and looked over at Harry. She hadn't realised he was awake. "I told you, I'm keeping my name."

"I thought you might have changed your mind." Her fingers drew patterns on his chest as he pulled her closer.

"Tomorrow I'm going to America, where I'm going to be Felicity Barnes. It's enough to remember which alias I'm using, I don't want to have to think about my own name too." She suspected that for him it was a point of pride for his wife to take his name, for Sarah the opposite was true. But her excuse was also true: it was never a good idea to forget to answer to your alias and she didn't want another that she would have to remember all the time.

He sighed. They both knew she had the winning hand in this particular argument because there was nothing he could do to force her. Not that he would ever force her to do anything, just be very persuasive from time to time.

"Let's not discuss that now." She reached over to kiss him.

Although he kissed her back just as enthusiastically, he didn't let it go on very long before he pulled back and said, "We really should unpack."

"We should," she agreed, and moved her mouth down to his shoulder. "But we're both leaving tomorrow and I want to make the most of our honeymoon, even if it's just one day."

"Maybe I shouldn't leave."

At that she stopped what she was doing and raised herself up with a hand on his chest. "What?"

"Well, it's not much of a marriage with both of us never here, is it?"

She didn't think the Navy was that easy to leave, from what he'd said in the past, but he hadn't been very specific, so she didn't really know. "But you like being in the Navy. And we both knew what we were getting into."

"What about when we have kids?"

She bit her lip and flopped back onto the bed. They probably should have had that discussion much sooner, if they'd been sensible about it. Maybe one day in the future she might change her mind, but right now she didn't want children and couldn't see being any different in the near future. Which probably had rather a lot to do with why she had never brought it up in the first place.

When she didn't reply he propped himself up on one elbow to look over at her. "Sarah?"

"I bet you think all women are domestic goddesses who live to have children, don't you?"

He had been reaching his hand over to her waist, but now he brought it back to the bed, moving away from her a little.

She wasn't angry with him, so much as herself for being too scared to discuss anything that might mean the end of their relationship, but she hadn't meant to take it out on him. "I'm sorry." She reached out to stroke his arm. "But I can hardly go off after a story if I had a baby to worry about."

"You could just stay at home and look after it." She gave him a look and he added, "No, of course you couldn't."

"I'd go mad."

He smiled at that "So you don't have names picked out then?"

She really wanted to tell him that it really was just a cliché, except that somewhere along the line there were some names that had somehow stuck. "Luke and Maria. But I never told you that."

"What was that, old girl? Terribly sorry, but I wasn't listening," he said with a grin.

She laughed. "We're wasting our honeymoon with talking when we can do that over the phone."

"But the unpacking..."

She cut him off with a kiss and then made him forget the unpacking completely by pushing him back onto the bed and straddling his hips.

~*~*~

They didn't have what most people would think of as a normal relationship, but it worked for them. Although Harry didn't go away at sea for months at a time, the Navy seemed to be determined to send him to the most remote places in Britain: bases in the middle of nowhere with no big newspapers or magazines for Sarah to work for. Since she was often off around the world after a story, it made sense for them to live apart and just see each other when they could. At least it led to fewer arguments, although Sarah would never admit that she liked arguing with Harry. She suspected he felt the same way, given that their marriage had lasted this long.

But at some point it had to crack and at least they'd made it past what was surely a mythical seven year itch.

"I'm sorry I can't make dinner next week," Sarah said, over the crackly phone line. "There's a story in Africa and--"

He cut her off before she could explain. "It's our anniversary. What can possibly be more important than that?"

She bit her lip. Whatever else happened, they always made sure to be together once a year on their anniversary. Without fail, they'd both be in the same restaurant at the same time for dinner. Until now, when it was just too inconvenient. "We'll just have to postpone it for a week or two, that's all."

"Sarah, I can't pick and choose when I get leave, not with that short notice. You know that."

She did know that, she just chose to forget, that's all. She had thought he wouldn't mind too much, that he'd be able to swing it some way if he really wanted to see her. "Let's just forget it this year, then."

"Let's forget about our marriage you mean."

It wasn't that she didn't want to see him and it was just an arbitrary date in the end, but she'd known he wouldn't see it her way, which is why she'd agonised over it in advance. It was a hard decision, but this story was important and there would be plenty of other opportunities to see her husband. However, she knew he didn't see it that way, especially given the threatening tone of his voice. "Harry, I love you." But she was talking to thin air. She decided it was because they had been cut off, not because he put the phone down on her.

~*~*~

In the end it was nearly a month later when they next saw each other at their home in London. Sarah hadn't been entirely looking forward to the meeting, expecting Harry to be cross or upset, but in the end he wasn't either of those things.

"Things have to change," he begun, once they were both seated in the living room. "I'm taking a job at MI5, so I'll be living here permanently."

For what was possibly only the second time in her life, Sarah was speechless.

"I've been doing some intelligence work, so it's a logical move."

He looked at her with a worried expression on his face and Sarah couldn't help but smile. Aside from it being quite sweet the way he worried about her, she was sure she had surprised him just as much by not acting in the way he'd expected. "That's a good idea," she said, and he gave her a relieved smile. "I do miss you when you're away, you know."

When he held out his arms she happily hugged him back. "I thought you'd be angry with me for missing our anniversary." Although now she could see that was illogical because Harry never got angry.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm glad you did. I don't know if we could have carried on the way we had been." He smiled down at her when she lifted her head, and brushed his thumb against her cheek. "There's just one other thing." She frowned as he calmly removed his wedding ring.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Why was he contradicting himself?

He put the ring down on the coffee table before he answered. "You don't wear yours because you don't want your enemies to come after me. It's only fair that I do the same for you, since I'm likely to make a few enemies in this job."

She looked down at her left hand guiltily because she hadn't remembered to put hers back on and it was still on her bedside table. "I don't need to be protected," she said, not because she ever won this argument, but more because of how it felt to see Harry take that ring off. She finally understood the look he'd given her the first time he discovered she did it.

"I know you can look after yourself, old girl, but it's far better if you're not in danger in the first place."

"Don't call me old girl," she retorted, rather more harshly than she intended and then soothed his wounded expression with a kiss.

~*~*~

In the end, Harry being around more didn't change their relationship as much as she thought it might. For a start, Sarah was away just as much as she was before and when she was around Harry worked all hours. Sometimes she thought they spoke less than they had before he joined MI5.

She suspected he still had visions of domestic bliss with 2.4 children and a dog, even if she thought they were too old for that sort of thing now. But the dog had been calling Harry 'Master' for years. That neither of their lives suited it was still the case and nothing was going to change now that they both properly lived in the same house.

"Your feet are cold," she complained one night when he slid into bed.

He'd stopped apologising for waking her by now, knowing she was too alert for any sounds in the house. He didn't even apologise for his feet being cold, but purposely touched them to her ankles instead.

"Harry!" Now she was definitely awake and looked over at the clock. Then wished she hadn't found out what time of night, or morning, it was.

"I thought you might warm them up for me." It was just enough light in the bedroom for her to see his grin, but she wasn't in the mood for this just now.

"Get a hot water bottle." She turned over and out of his reach.

"You're the one complaining, you get one." He put a hand on her arm and demonstrated how cold that was too.

She shook her head. "I'm nice and warm."

"You are," he agreed, shifting over to cuddle up behind her.

The shock of his cold body against hers woke her up enough that she decided she might as well give up on going back to sleep. She had to be up soon anyway. So she turned in his grip to face him and press a kiss to his mouth. "Go to sleep. I'll be gone by the time you wake up." She hated that she couldn't tell him where she was going, but he'd find out tomorrow - later today - why when he met her younger self.

~*~*~

"You had an unfair advantage," he accused her afterwards, over dinner at Jardine's. "You already knew what I'd be like in the future."

She smiled enigmatically. Although it had been at the back of her mind, not least because she hadn't been able to remember him wearing a ring, but she hadn't considered it at all when deciding whether to marry him. However, she was perfectly happy to maintain the fiction that she did, if he wanted to believe it. "You aged quite well, I thought. And you haven't changed a bit."

He frowned. "I haven't?"

She shook her head. "Not in the important aspects. You're the still the same old Harry I know and love."

"With emphasis on the old." He sighed.

When she was younger and had met this older Harry, she hadn't remembered him feeling like this. But then she hadn't known him as well back then and she was sure whatever he had been feeling he'd kept to himself, as usual. "You're not that much older than I am."

"No, not any more." He smiled and ordered them some coffee.

Not wanting to revive the subject, she picked a new one. "And you never said what it was like meeting the Doctor again."

"It was..." He swilled the remains of his wine around in the glass as he thought, while she waited patiently. "Different," was all he managed in the end.

She rolled her eyes, wondering why she'd expected something deep and eloquent from Harry. "Different?"

He nodded. "I've changed more than he has." He slid his arm over the table to take her hand. "I know you still miss him."

She swallowed. He knew her too well. "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

He shook his head. "I thought about it, but in the end I didn't. It was selfish of me really. If he'd come back for you, you'd never have married me."

It had always been in the back of her mind and she'd assumed she would probably leave with the Doctor until Harry had proposed. Yet now, she couldn't imagine leaving Harry. "I'm glad he didn't come back." She smiled and squeezed his hand.

~*~*~

For a while they were happy. Until Harry announced he was going on a secret mission with NATO and then vanished off the face of the Earth. Of course Sarah did everything she could to find him, but no one seemed to know a thing about where he was and eventually she was forced to give up.

She feared that he'd been captured by aliens to get at her, but no one contacted her and there was no evidence to suggest it apart from her own paranoia. She half-wished he'd stayed in MI5 because at least his enemies there were in this country and there would be far smaller to space to look for him. But all she could do was carry on living and going to their anniversary dinners in the hopes that he would show up at one.

When she met the Doctor while investigating Deffrey Vale School she decided now was the time to move on and stop clinging to the past. Living in hope was killing her a piece at a time and the only way to save herself was to admit that Harry was most probably dead, act as if he was, and grieve. She moved into a bigger house with the insurance money and filled it with clutter in a way that Harry would have complained about, but let her keep in the end.

The built-in wardrobe in the spare room had enough space for all of Harry's things. He never had been very good at having many possessions - too much time spent moving around, he claimed, but it still looked like such a small memory of his life. At least here they were mostly out of her sight, so she could choose when to remember, but they were also safe, just in case. Adopting Luke helped, especially without K-9 around and in time she found she was happy again.

At least until one night when she woke with the sound of the TARDIS ringing in her ears. It had to be a dream or a memory, but she couldn't just dismiss it. So she put on her slippers and dressing gown, and tip-toed downstairs to have a look. She didn't find the familiar police box shape, but there was a familiar sort of person shape in her living room.

"Doctor?" He didn't look like any of the ones she'd met, but she couldn't rule out him regenerating since they'd last met.

"Sarah?"

Unless the Doctor had developed a voice that sounded very like Harry, there was only one person it could be. She switched the light on to be sure and found that her hand shook.

She closed her eyes against the bright light and when she cracked them open she found it was indeed her formerly-dead husband standing in her living room, a hand up to ward off the light.

"Harry," she breathed, not quite able to speak properly, and not caring where he'd been, only that he was here now, she raced over and hugged him tight. With her face buried in his shoulder she could feel the familiar rough texture of his blazer beneath her cheek and her eyes filled with tears. She was determined not to cry, though, so she let go enough to reach up and kiss him. His stubble grazed her skin and irrationally, she wanted to tell him off for not shaving before he saw her.

"Where have you been?" She looked him over more closely and tried to decide whether it was her faulty memory or if he hadn't changed at all since she last saw him, when he left on a mission he couldn't tell her anything about.

"Gallifrey."

"They don't allow humans there," she said, without thinking and then realised if Harry was serious, and he looked it, that was the TARDIS she heard. He wouldn't joke about this sort of thing, she knew, but in that case why didn't the Doctor stay? But that wasn't the most important question at the moment. "Why?"

"There was a terrible war and the Doctor needed a doctor."

Once she would have made a joke about that, but this time she bit her lip. She could see now the pain written in Harry's eyes and wondered what he'd seen. "Gallifrey's gone."

"Yes, it is," he whispered.

He wasn't going to talk about it, she could tell that much, but she didn't quite care, now that he was really here. She took his hand and pulled him down to the sofa to sit next to her.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around the room.

"Home," she said, and then amended it to, "My house."

He looked over at her. "Yours?" She could hear the implied, "Not mine?".

It wasn't that unreasonable that she'd moved, was it? Except that she remembered something important about what the TARDIS could do - and how the Doctor sometimes got that part wrong. "How long has it been for you?"

"A few months. I don't know exactly, I lost track." He frowned. "Why?"

She bit her lip. From his perspective it was no longer than they were usually apart, although they usually managed to communicate during that time. "Harry, it's been more like a few years," she said, softly.

"Oh." She could see comprehension dawning on him. He pressed his palm to her cheek. "You haven't aged a bit."

She smiled at the flattery. "I thought you were dead." She put her hand up to her mouth to keep herself from crying.

"Oh, Sarah." He pulled her closer. "I'm so sorry."

It was easier not to cry when faced with his familiar, comforting warmth for the second time tonight and she let herself relax, just a little.

"Tell me." He stroked her hair as she caught him up on the events in her life since he'd gone. There was rather a lot to tell.

~*~*~

She didn't remember falling asleep, but she must have at some point because she woke up on the sofa with a blanket covering her. For a moment she wondered if she had dreamt the previous night's events, but she could hear voices in the kitchen. She was glad Harry hadn't put her to bed and he was still close by since she wasn't at all sure about letting him too far out of her sight just yet. After running her fingers through her hair to make herself presentable, she went to join them.

Once at the door she smiled at the picture in front of her. Luke sat at the table and, in between bites of his toast, was telling Harry all about his first encounter with a Sontaran. With his back to Sarah, Harry sat opposite him, his hands wrapped around a mug, gazing intently at Luke and occasionally putting in his own observations. Sarah leant against the door frame and watched them until Luke noticed her.

"Mum!" he called, excitedly. "Did you know Harry once blew up a Sontaran spaceship?"

Sarah wouldn't have said that was quite what happened, but since Harry got up and put the kettle back on without being asked, she decided not to contradict him. She was just glad she'd told Luke about Harry because he was enough of a shock as it was, not being dead, never mind if Luke hadn't known she had a husband in the first place.

"I was there," she pointed out as she sat in the seat Harry had vacated. "But Harry's a much better storyteller than I am." Rather prone to exaggeration, but he always told stories well enough that she didn't mind. Luke would certainly appreciate them.

She smiled at Harry as he put a cup of tea on the table in front of her. "But you'll have plenty of time to hear them. He's not going anywhere."

"I'm not?" he asked amiably.

"We have enough work dealing with aliens here, you don't need to go anywhere else." She reached out to take his hand. "I don't want you to go away," she added, softly.

"Then of course I'll stay." He squeezed her hand. "After all, I have a lot of catching up to do."