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Jul. 31st, 2007

hoodie: by justspies

Writing Workshop #8

It comes in a text message: ‘Dirty Martini. 4PM. Bring paper.’ I’m not even sure what to expect, but when I get there, it’s really impossible to have expected anything else but finding Sarah Jane Smith sitting in a table tucked into the back, where she has the sightline of everyone else in the restaurant-slash-bar, but so few of those people can see her. She’s already got something to drink. It looks vaguely reminiscent of something you might see in Star Trek, but I know it’s just a martini with green dye in it.

Tricks to curry favour, and all.

“Well, you came,” Sarah Jane notes. “Have a seat then. We need to talk, you and me.”

Sliding into a seat, she pushes over a chocolate martini, clear as crystal. “And you ordered me a drink,” I note. “Takes a lot more than that to get me liquored up.”

“I know. But it’s a start.”

I sit down and press my knees together, somehow reminded of maternal influences (stern ones, at that) by the way Sarah Jane keeps staring at me and I know better than to call her Sarah or SJ, so I don’t. I don’t drink, either, because give an investigative reporter an inch and they’ll take a mile. And I have a feeling I know what this is about.

“…and I mean, the man keeps asking me.” I tune back in, just as she’s launched into a passionate rant about something (or rather, someone) or other and I just watch, almost unsure as to how she expects me to answer. She’s really more beautiful than she thinks she is, but the alcohol has given her cheeks a pink flush and there’s determination in her eyes. But then, there’s always been that there. “You know I love him, clearly, but it’s more than that. It’s…”

“He understands you?” I suggest.

“I want to be in love with him and do everything you’re planning in that brain of yours,” she says, leaning over to brush hair out of my eyes and I twitch, involuntarily. We share that, at the least, a thick head of hair and a stubbornness beneath. “I know what’s in there, you know. I peek.”

But she’s still smiling, so clearly she’s not all upset by the road ahead.

“So?” I ask, starting in on my drink when I think I’m out of the woods.

“So?” she echoes, much in the same tone. “Get me there, already.”

Jul. 6th, 2007

oh NO: by granias

[For Peter] Ageswitch

Something about that particular morning had been different. Sure, she normally roused slowly upon waking, reading her book in the light of the day, watering her plants on the terrace, taking her coffee out to be enjoyed in the dewy morning air.

No, today, there was something different.

Namely, she felt wonderful. Suspiciously wonderful. None of the arthritis she kept to herself. No cracks in places she didn't want to think about. And when her eyes fluttered open, things looked a mite different. Firmer. Less spotty, even. Sarah Jane Smith sat up in a rush and stared at herself, pushed both hands past her face. Her hair was thicker, the wrinkles were gone from her face. "It can't be!" she remarked, feeling more energetic than she had in ages. A quick check in a piece of glass she kept as a mirror only confirmed it, though.

She couldn't have been more than twenty-four, by the looks of her.

She stripped off her pajamas, reaching about for something, but everything fit rather ill now, which meant a trip to the Compound. One pair of blue trousers, a plaid peasant blouse and a blue tied corset-vest to match the trousers later and she was wandering the Island with a pleased smile on her face, clutching an orange and eating it eagerly, skin and all, spitting out the worthless parts as she wandered along.

She stopped in her walk, a slowly growing and knowing smile spreading upon her lips as her fingers tapped the orange thoughtfully. "Of course," she said to herself and changed tacks quickly, having to stop herself from running, simply because she could. She made her way to Peter's hut, opening the door quietly and creeping inside as she slowly began to untie her vest, crawling into the bed and smiling rather impishly.

Why not, indeed?

Her fingers hooked on his trousers, leaning up to press her lips to his ear. "It's Sarah," she promised. "I promise to violate you with all due enthusiasm," she guaranteed with a laugh, pressing kisses slowly down his neck, taking her time as she went lower and lower to push his pants down.

Something about being in her twenties reminded her how exciting this could all be, the way it made her stomach flutter. And with that thought in mind, she wrapped her pink lips around him.

Jun. 25th, 2007


[For Peter Carlisle]

A time for everything and to everything its place. Rubbish, in some manner of speaking, but it was time. In fact, it was long past time, but Sarah Jane had been very patient and had pushed down all those whims every time she had kissed Peter or just seen him and reminded herself with a deep 'woof' of frustration that there would be a time.

Standing outside his hut and knocking on the door with a haphazard bunch of flowers in her hand, she was ready for that damn waiting to expire. It was long past time, already.

She was wearing long boots that went to her knees and a faded pink denim skirt atop, frayed at the bottoms. Atop that, the clothing box had been kind enough to grand a top that fastened at her neck, all vertical stripes in bright colours and atop that, a light blue shirt to keep her pale shoulders from freckling. While they might be endearing on Peter, they weren't on her.

And here she was, knocking away, pacing mildly to expend some energy as she did.

Jun. 12th, 2007

uhhh no

Homeplot: For Peter Carlisle

The TARDIS had mucked up and shaved a day off their time, but that was nothing new to Sarah Jane and she simply took the time ring in hand when the Doctor offered it out to her, giving an 'all right, I understand' in reply. It was simple orders. Take several devices and paralyze the mutant creatures in the tunnels between the Kaleds and the Thals. The war was over, but the creatures were still at large.

"And Sarah," the Doctor advised darkly. "There are still daleks here."

"I know," she replied, heavily. "I have dealt with them before." There was a petulant tone in her voice as she pushed the time ring into the pocket of her overly large coat, all brown and something the latest Doctor might have worn. They had landed on the Thals side and the Doctor had immediately gone off to see what had become of the people in the aftermath while Sarah Jane worked on prying off the lid of the air vents. "Give me a hand?" she asked of Peter, heart beating madly, so glad to be back. She had the gun slung over her shoulder, ready to shoot if necessary, but first, they had that damned crawl to make.

Jun. 9th, 2007

uh oh

(no subject)

Any TARDIS will do!Collapse )

May. 10th, 2007


[For Peter Carlisle] - Dated May 8th

Of all the things Sarah Jane had not expected, one of them was to be sitting in a room that she shared with Nancy Drew, with K-9 sitting under the bed deactivated and wearing a red and orange and brown floral print dress with a white blouse on it (there were differences of course, but after twenty minutes of searching and pleading, the box had yielded). So she had a skirt that twirled and her hair was fastened up with clips and pins, bangs set to the side.

And of course, she was nervous, which was just bloody wonderful.

She'd taken to sitting down and writing on her typewriter, just to distract herself, quite honestly, because she wasn't quite sure if she would be able to handle feeling this young again without having a terrible giggling fit at some point.

Feb. 12th, 2007

glamour girl

For Ianto - AU

For IantoCollapse )

Jan. 26th, 2007

capable: by ?

Bodyswitch 2!

Brian went upstairs to try to get away from the stupid talking toaster. Thank god the thing didn't seem to be able to climb stairs, although he felt a small pang of guilt at walking away and just leaving it there.

He groaned as he got to the main floor. He was never getting old, never. The aches and pains were minor but irritating. He stretched to try to ease them, then sighed and started down the hall, hoping to catch sight of Mikey--and praying to anyone that would listen that he could avoid Justin until all of this was over.

Jan. 4th, 2007

uhhh no

For James Bond

Sarah Jane wasn't sure what all the commotion was about, but she had half a mind to find out for herself. She'd never been a heavy sleeper, always too worried about what enemy of the past was coming back to the present to try and kill her. So she woke up and made sure both Fred and K-9 weren't disturbed as she wrapped a robe about her pajama pants and tank top, wandering down the stairs and lurking just outside the clinic, close enough to hear overlapping words.

Words like 'murder' and 'autopsy', medical phrases she didn't quite understand.

She held the robe closed tighter as she kept her back pressed to the wall and listened in carefully, not wanting to miss a single detail. This might even be her next article, if she was really lucky.

Dec. 30th, 2006

memories: by ?


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