"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.

When he brushed the dirt from his trousers he sighed at the wet patch on his knee. There was an odd smell here too, that wasn't the usual smell after rain he'd noticed when he left the restaurant. It was probably the flowers in Sarah's garden or someone having creosoted their fence earlier in the day, or something. However, as Sarah was his main worry at the moment, he dismissed it as unimportant.

It wasn't unusual that she was late for their annual dinner. In fact it was more often than not that she got herself caught up in a story and arrived ruffled and breathless. But tonight it had gone past that time and Harry was sure she wasn't going to turn up at all. It was probably the usual excuse that was delaying her, but that didn't stop his mind from conjuring up all sorts of scenarios where Sarah was injured or dead. And her taking so long to answer didn't help that.

He was about to bend down again, when the door opened and he was rather relieved to find her safe and in one piece.

It didn't last very long, unfortunately, because her first words to him were, "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Had she said it with a grin, he'd have known she was joking, but she looked deadly serious. To make things worse, her voice sounded almost shy, which wasn't something he normally associated with Sarah at all.

"I'm not a stranger." Despite his concerns there wasn't really anything else to say to that question. "Can I come in, Sarah?"

She bit her lip, then nodded and moved away from the door, her gaze on him all the time.

He headed into her lounge, half expecting to find it a mess, but instead it was perfectly tidy. Sarah had followed him, so he turned and asked her, "Is something wrong? You didn't turn up for dinner."

She curled up into a corner of the sofa, pulled her sleeves down over her hands and said, "I'm hungry," in the tone of voice of someone expecting to be fed.

All of a sudden he recognised the expression on her face, it just wasn't one he'd ever expected to see on an adult. "Sarah," he began, kneeling down to see her better, "how old are you?" He wouldn't normally ask a lady her age, of course, although in Sarah's case he already knew it, but it would confirm his suspicions one way or the other.

"Five," she said, sitting up straight.

Harry took a deep breath, not wanting to swear in front of her. He didn't know how this happened or even how it was possible, but her posture was undoubtedly that of a child, even if she looked grown up on the outside. "Oh, Sarah," he said, with sympathy, and reached out to her.

Before he could touch her she shrunk back into the cushions and he withdrew his hand. It wasn't really a surprise that she was scared and it didn't help that she didn't know him either. "I'm Harry." He smiled at her. "Would you like some dinner?"

She nodded and he left her alone to see what she had in the kitchen. Since Sarah had a tendency to grab something and run, it wasn't a surprise that the fridge was half-empty. Harry threw away some mouldy and out-of-date food before he established there was nothing to make a meal out of. Fortunately, her freezer was better stocked, even if it did consist primarily of microwave meals. Since it was late and he was hungry too, he choose two, put them in the microwave, and then set about finding some cutlery.

By the time it was all cooked and he took two plates into the lounge Sarah hadn't moved at all. Either the sight or the smell of it roused her, and she took a seat at the table. While they ate, Harry took the opportunity to observe her more closely. She was having trouble coordinating her knife and fork, but since he had limited experience with five-year-olds, he couldn't tell if that was normal for a child her age, or Sarah having problems controlling a bigger body than she was used to.

Harry was reluctant to offer to cut her food for her because she would undoubtedly take it as an insult. Well, the Sarah he knew would. He wasn't quite so sure about the child sitting opposite him, but he thought it best to wait and see if she asked.

She didn't, but the bits she couldn't manage she used her fingers for, her expression daring Harry to comment. He decided discretion was the better part of valour and said nothing about it. He hoped that someone would teach her better manners, although that assumed they managed to put this right. Which would be impossible without knowing how she had got this way in the first place.

After dinner he tried asking, but she ignored his questions and challenged him to a game of snap instead. He couldn't help smiling, seeing how much she hadn't changed at all, and she took that as a 'yes'. He didn't mind, because it at least showed that she was trusting him more, which was what he wanted. That she knew where the cards were kept was interesting, but he couldn't tell if she'd searched the house before he got there, or Sarah kept them in a similar place to where they were kept in her childhood.

Subsequent attempts to ask her the same question merely got him the same response and eventually he had to admit defeat. He couldn't tell if it was because she didn't know and didn't want to admit it, or just didn't want to say, but he knew better than to push her too far. He just hoped this would wear off by the morning. If not, he could question her again and hope for a better response.

His problems really began at bedtime. When Sarah began yawning and Harry suggested the idea she was happy enough to go. He packed away the cards before looking through cupboards for a spare pillow and blanket. He had no intention of leaving her alone all night, even if that meant sleeping on her uncomfortable sofa. Once he found what he was searching for he went to check on her.

She stood in her room, next to the bed, studying her cleavage with a frown on her face. She was at least wearing underwear, but that was still a lot more of Sarah than he was expecting to see. Caught unprepared, he turned round to leave her to it. Except that she called him back. So he took a deep breath and faced her once more, although he remained in the doorway. "What is it Sarah?"

"I can't get my bra off."

Obviously this adult body would be strange to her, but he hadn't considered that the clothes would be too. As a doctor he saw people in varying stages of undress all the time without thinking too much of it. However, he was in a different mindset here and what Sarah needed was a friend not a doctor. But there was no one else around to do it, so he would have to help her. "Turn around then."

Although she obeyed that didn't stop her from looking over her shoulder at what he was doing. The trouble was he'd never taken a bra off a woman for such innocent reasons. Neither had it done it from the back with Sarah watching him curiously. Fortunately, he'd been in enough stressful situations to be able to keep his hands from shaking. Sarah would probably not notice anything amiss. He was just glad she didn't turn around before picking out her pyjamas from under the pillow.

As she put her pyjamas on he kept his eyes closed and willed his heart to stop beating quite so fast by trying some deep breathing. Children had a way of picking up on nervousness and although he wasn't sure if that extended to children in adult bodies he didn't particularly want to find out.

"Will you tell me a story?"

He opened his eyes again and she looked up at him from the pillow with an innocent expression that would have immediately spelt trouble. In a tired five year old Sarah, it probably was just innocent. He hoped so, anyway.

"All the books here are boring." She folded her arms on top of the covers.

He smiled. Given that few of Sarah's books were fiction and those that were definitely weren't children's books, that didn't surprise him.

"All right." Although this was an easy request to grant her he had to think about what story might be appropriate. Certainly none of the ones he told in the pub were any good. As he thought, he sat down on the edge of her bed and she moved over a little to accommodate him. "I'll tell you the story of the giant robot." Given that Sarah had felt sympathy for it, chances were she'd like the story with it in.

She nodded, approving of it so far.

He took a deep breath and began. "There was once a giant robot and even though he was very big he was very kind and friendly to everyone he met. But he didn't get to meet many people because his owners weren't kind at all and kept him locked away."

"That's not very nice," she commented, with a frown.

He had to fight not to smile. "No, it's not. And worse than that, they made him steal parts to make a gun that makes people disappear when you shoot them."

"Couldn't he have just refused?"

Oh dear, he could already tell she was not going to be an easy person to tell a story to. The more he saw of Sarah as a child the more he could see just why she grew up to be the way she was. Not that it mattered: he had to carry on now that he'd started. He shook his head at her question. "His creator made him so he would always do what he was told by his owners. But it was all right because there was a clever girl called Sarah..."

She smiled at the name.

"...and she worked out what sort of gun the stolen parts could make and she went in search of them. When she found the giant robot she felt sorry for him because it wasn't his fault. But his owners found her and kidnapped her."

Sarah gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "She does escape, doesn't she?"

He nodded. "They took her to their underground lair and tied her up, but not very well, so she ran away as soon as she could." Here Harry had to pause while he considered the ending to his story. He couldn't very well kill the robot and let his owners go free, because while he thought Sarah ought to know the world didn't run the way of fairy stories, today was probably not the best time to make that point.

"Then what happened?" she asked, impatient.

Smiling indulgently at her, he continued. "The robot's owners sent him after her and told him to kill her, but because she'd been so nice to him he didn't want to. So then he was confused about who to obey. While he was confused he picked up the gun and shot his owners, making them disappear." Despite that being the best solution, Harry still felt guilty about advocating murder like that. So he carried on before she could comment, "He was very upset about it, but Sarah knew it was an accident and she told everyone, so they all knew not to blame the robot and he lived happily ever after."

She smiled and nodded. "It was a good story."

He returned her smile, glad she liked it. "Now go to sleep."

Obediently, she pulled the covers up closer to her and closed her eyes.

After bending over to kiss her on the forehead, he left her to sleep, turning off the light on his way to his make-shift bed.

~*~*~

Harry woke with a start, at first not knowing where he was or what had disturbed him. As he looked round he could make out the shape of a person in the doorway. He heard a definite sniff and automatically reached into his pocket for a handkerchief before he remembered he'd stripped down to his pants. He sat up, frowning into the dark. "Sarah?"

She confirmed it was indeed her, not that it was likely to be anyone else, when she came closer, threw her arms around him and crawled into his lap. She seemed to have forgotten she wasn't child-sized and despite the fact that she wasn't that tall, she still couldn't fit the whole of herself in his lap.

As he rearranged her she sobbed into his chest, more upset that Harry had ever seen her. He didn't know was wrong, so he rubbed her back, soothingly, and whispered, "It's all right."

It was a little while before she calmed down and he asked, "What's the matter?" in the hope of getting an answer.

"It was a big lorry and it came so fast." She hiccuped and he hoped she wasn't going to start crying again.

He frowned, trying to work out whether she was talking about a dream or a memory when she spoke again.

"Mummy shouted and Daddy did too, but then there was a bang and the car was all red. And they wouldn't talk to me."

Oh, god. She'd told him once that her parents had died in a car accident when she was young, but not how young. "It's all right," he repeated from earlier, not sure of how to handle Sarah in this state, never mind a five year old Sarah in this state.

"I don't know where they are."

He really didn't want to have to explain death to a five year old, least of all in the middle of the night. And since he couldn't think of what else to say he just pressed a kiss to the top of her head and continued to hold her tight, hoping he was soothing in some way.

Eventually her breathing evened out and he thought she must be asleep. He shifted her, intending to take her back to bed, but she just clung tighter to his vest, so he gave up. He managed to make himself comfortable without waking her, and she burrowed her face into his chest, happy to use him as a pillow. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

~*~*~

He must have fallen asleep again because he woke up all too aware of just where Sarah's knee was. He lay still hoping she didn't move and feeling guilty at hoping she did. As a child, Sarah probably wouldn't understand what his problem was, but if by some miracle she was herself again it would be distinctly embarrassing. Since she had tired herself out the night before and it was still early anyway, it wasn't too difficult to manoeuvre himself out from under her without waking her up.

While he did immediately feel better, he decided a shower would help clear his head and prepare him for a day that might well hold anything he could imagine, and probably some things he couldn't. By the time he returned she was stirring on the sofa. He went over, knelt down and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and looked at him sleepily. "How did I get here?" Her tone was definitely not that of a child, and while it was harder to tell while she was not yet fully awake, she didn't have a childish expression on her face any more.

He wasn't sure what to tell her without knowing, so to confirm who she was he asked, "Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, yes please," she said with feeling, and he smiled, knowing she was back to her old self again. Unless her five year old self was that desperate for tea first thing in the morning, but he suspected not.

Either way they would both be better for some breakfast, so he made some toast as well, and by the time he came back with it she was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"So, can you tell me what happened yesterday?" he asked her.

She had a sip of her tea and when she looked up afterwards she was seeing something far away. "It was the day after my parents died and Aunt Lavinia took me in." She bit her lip and he wondered if she cried again, whether she would find him as much comfort as she had last night. "I wish it had been the day before so I could have seen them again."

Harry wondered about that, as she distractedly tore her toast in strips. He didn't think she really would have wanted to see them die again. In her position he knew he wouldn't, but he didn't have a chance to voice his thoughts, because the phone rang and Sarah got up to answer it.

He was eating his own piece of toast and wasn't paying much attention to her conversation until he heard her gasp, at which point he looked over to see her hand pressed tightly against her mouth. Although her face was white, her monosyllabic replies didn't give him much to go on, so he just looked on, concerned, not wanting to interrupt.

After a minute she put the phone down gently, but didn't move apart from that. "Aunt Lavinia's died," she said quietly.

At that Harry had no hesitation in going over and putting his arms around her. And then she could have been five again and it could have been the previous night. This morning he just said, "I'm so sorry." There were no platitudes he felt would help in this situation, so he just held her while she cried.

When she stopped she turned away, wiping her eyes with her hands and shaking her head at his offer of a handkerchief. She wandered away into the kitchen, not looking as if she quite knew what she was doing. As she leant against the sink and looked out into the garden she shared with other residents in the block she said, "Even the weather knows."

He stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, not putting his handkerchief away in case she changed her mind. Outside, it was raining and water dripped down the window in wavy lines. "That only happens in stories," he pointed out. "In reality, the weather does as it pleases."

"It was the rain that did it," she continued, seemingly not hearing him, and confusing Harry about what she meant.

At his silence she turned to face him, and his hand slipped off her shoulder. "Didn't you smell it?"

He frowned. "Well, yes, I did, but--"

"It knew." She took his hands, happy all of a sudden and Harry wondered if the events of the previous evening had made her crazy. "It knew it was my last chance to see Aunt Lavinia and took me back there."

"Sarah," he cautioned, "We're not living in a story."

"And time travel is impossible."

He sighed. "All right, you win." It was usually better with Sarah to give in. However, he wasn't in a rush to leave, just in case she was suffering from any after effects, so he had more toast while she rushed off to get dressed.

Back in the lounge he polished off two more slices and another cup of tea before he began to worry at how long she was taking. On the way to the bathroom he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, and when he looked into the kitchen he discovered it was Sarah in the garden, in the rain.

Sighing again and wondering what he'd got himself into, he pulled on his shoes and rushed outside. "What on earth are you doing?"

Her face was turned to the sky and when she faced him he couldn't tell whether it was rain or tears that dripped down her cheeks. "I want to go back. I want to see her again."

"Sarah." He took her face in his hands to make sure she was listening to him. "Lavinia knew you loved her."

She bit her lip, but said nothing, so he added, "I did meet her once."

She stepped closer and leant against him. "It's not fair."

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

"And the robot doesn't always live."

He just stood there, mouth open, not having even considered that she might have remembered what was the previous night for him, but many years ago for her.

She grinned as she looked up at him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Come in, Harry, you're getting wet."

He really had no choice but to follow her. But he fervently hoped she didn't remember what had happened just before he told her the story about the giant robot. It had been embarrassing enough at the time.