SJA fic : Satellite Series : Love - Actually
Title : Love - Actually
Author : Jen
Fandom : The Sarah Jane Adventures
Rating : PG-13 for allusions to... intimate stuff!
Bad Influence : spydurwebb
Characters : Harry, Sarah Jane, Peter Dalton
~~
As soon as I got the pictures back I knew I had gold. Absolute gold. She looked so amazing but then how could she not? Her whole face was alight with joy and love and that was before we get onto what she was wearing. The old girl looked stunning in the dress, everyone said so.
I thought she looked beautiful. Absolutely, jaw on the floor beautiful. The minute she walked into that church I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.
This is pathetic. This is really pathetic. I am the embodiment of the biggest walking cliché going. I'd like to be able to say that that it came out of nowhere, or that I tried so hard to fight it but I'd be lying. I let this happen. I am completely in love with an amazing woman who is completely in love with someone else. Completely in love and married to someone else.
I am, apparently, pathetic.
~~
They had started with the master bedroom, wanting to make their marital home and their marital space theirs. The paper had been stripped away and the walls sanded. Neither of them were brave enough to tackle the joys of paste and lumps and bumps so they'd opted for the safe option of paint. With a feature wall. (Lavina's idea, not theirs, but after the samples were painted on they had to agree she had a point. Then came the arguments about what colour the feature wall should be.)
Somehow the undercoat had been splashed and somehow it had gone all down Peter's leg and somehow he had dropped his roller and somehow the paint had run all down Sarah's arm and somehow they had started to wrestle and throw paint around, ending up on their covered bed halfway between wrestling and foreplay.
Well, maybe more than halfway.
The doorbell chimed and Peter swore. At least it sounded like a swear word - his head was buried in her neck at the time.
"Ignore them," Sarah muttered, pushing him over and sitting astride his stomach.
"Planning to," he replied, his hands running up her legs.
The bell chimed again and this time it was Sarah who swore. "Harry," she muttered.
"Sarah, love," Peter sighed, "if you've forgotten my name already..."
"No, it'll be Harry," she said, getting to her feet. "He called earlier, said he wanted to come over."
"We can still ignore him," he pleaded, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her back to bed. "Pretend we've gone out, that your aunt has whisked us off to one of her functions. Or that you had to work. Or anything!"
"It'll keep," she smiled, holding his face in her hands and kissing him gently. "And you know it's worth the wait."
He sighed again as she left the room, laying back down on the bed to think of cold showers.
~~
"Lose a fight with a tin of paint, old girl?" Harry joked as Sarah finally answered the door.
"Not as much as Peter lost," she replied, kissing him gently on the cheek as he stepped inside.
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs, getting changed," she covered.
"I come bearing gifts," Harry said, holding up the wallet.
"Photos?" Sarah asked, slightly confused until she remembered. "The wedding?"
"Why else would I be calling 'round at this hour?"
"I'll put the kettle on."
"Music to my ears."
~~
He knew when she'd seen it. Her whole body changed. They had both looked through his pictures of that day, before the ceremony, during and after, talking about the guests or the location or their memories. Then they came to that picture. The one he wasn't sure if he could put in there or not.
But then they could have asked for the negatives to make their own copies, and what was he going to do? Cut that one out of the strip? Claim he'd lost them?
Peter was distracted for a moment by the one Sarah had just discarded but then the two of them were looking at this off-guard moment.
And Harry felt his heart break all over again, just like it had when he'd heard those words : I now pronounce you husband and wife.
"I should go," he said quickly, putting his cup down. "I've taken up enough of your night, and you can look through those at your leisure."
"They're beautiful," Sarah said quietly. "Harry..."
"Keep them. The negatives are in there too."
"You kept copies though?" Peter asked.
Harry didn't respond.
"We can't..." Sarah began, but she stopped when Harry got to his feet. "Thank you," she said, recognising his mood. "Dinner soon, yeah? You and me?"
"That'd be nice," he said with warmth and enthusiasm.
Peter said nothing. He watched his wife show her friend out, then he looked back at the photos. When she returned he handed her the one taken during the speeches and looked at her.
"Oh," was all she said.
~~
Harry stopped and turned as he heard Sarah calling his name. She was running down the street towards him and so he stopped and waited.
"Here," she said, holding out the photos.
"Sarah..."
"I'm sorry," was all she could say.
"Not your fault."
"Yeah, but... I'm still sorry."
He took the pictures back from her, looking at them for a moment. He lifted the flap and quickly pulled out one, handing it back to her before slipping the rest of them into his jacket pocket.
"I don't want to lose you," she said quickly, glancing at the photo he'd given her.
"You won't," he assured her. "Just... I'll be fine. I will."
Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. Then she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, holding them there in a lingering kiss. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, old girl."
~~
"He's my oldest friend," Sarah told Peter sadly as she leant back against the front door. "We've been through so much together, seen and done... so much. And I never knew. I never saw it." She looked at the picture in her hand, a stolen moment during the speeches.
"You weren't looking for it," he replied.
"I should have seen it, I should have known."
Could things be that different this time around? Or had he loved her before? Only before he'd not had to watch her marry someone else, love someone else, make a home with someone else. All those long nights working together, staying up late, getting up early. All that time they spent together and not once...
"You OK?" Peter asked, walking over to her. He took the photo from her and smiled. "It's a beautiful picture."
"I'll be fine," she said quietly. "Really." She fixed her eyes on his. "I love you."
"I know," he said.
She let him pull her into a hug, resting her head against his chest. She felt his lips press against her hair and smiled. "That's nice," she muttered, listening to the thud-thud of his heart.
"What? This?" he asked, kissing the top of her head again.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, it is nice, isn't it?" he agreed, nuzzling her hair. He knew why she ran after Harry and he suspected what had happened. But he didn't need to ask, he didn't need to know. He loved and trusted her and that was enough. That was what love actually meant.
Author : Jen
Fandom : The Sarah Jane Adventures
Rating : PG-13 for allusions to... intimate stuff!
Bad Influence : spydurwebb
Characters : Harry, Sarah Jane, Peter Dalton
~~
As soon as I got the pictures back I knew I had gold. Absolute gold. She looked so amazing but then how could she not? Her whole face was alight with joy and love and that was before we get onto what she was wearing. The old girl looked stunning in the dress, everyone said so.
I thought she looked beautiful. Absolutely, jaw on the floor beautiful. The minute she walked into that church I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.
This is pathetic. This is really pathetic. I am the embodiment of the biggest walking cliché going. I'd like to be able to say that that it came out of nowhere, or that I tried so hard to fight it but I'd be lying. I let this happen. I am completely in love with an amazing woman who is completely in love with someone else. Completely in love and married to someone else.
I am, apparently, pathetic.
~~
They had started with the master bedroom, wanting to make their marital home and their marital space theirs. The paper had been stripped away and the walls sanded. Neither of them were brave enough to tackle the joys of paste and lumps and bumps so they'd opted for the safe option of paint. With a feature wall. (Lavina's idea, not theirs, but after the samples were painted on they had to agree she had a point. Then came the arguments about what colour the feature wall should be.)
Somehow the undercoat had been splashed and somehow it had gone all down Peter's leg and somehow he had dropped his roller and somehow the paint had run all down Sarah's arm and somehow they had started to wrestle and throw paint around, ending up on their covered bed halfway between wrestling and foreplay.
Well, maybe more than halfway.
The doorbell chimed and Peter swore. At least it sounded like a swear word - his head was buried in her neck at the time.
"Ignore them," Sarah muttered, pushing him over and sitting astride his stomach.
"Planning to," he replied, his hands running up her legs.
The bell chimed again and this time it was Sarah who swore. "Harry," she muttered.
"Sarah, love," Peter sighed, "if you've forgotten my name already..."
"No, it'll be Harry," she said, getting to her feet. "He called earlier, said he wanted to come over."
"We can still ignore him," he pleaded, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her back to bed. "Pretend we've gone out, that your aunt has whisked us off to one of her functions. Or that you had to work. Or anything!"
"It'll keep," she smiled, holding his face in her hands and kissing him gently. "And you know it's worth the wait."
He sighed again as she left the room, laying back down on the bed to think of cold showers.
~~
"Lose a fight with a tin of paint, old girl?" Harry joked as Sarah finally answered the door.
"Not as much as Peter lost," she replied, kissing him gently on the cheek as he stepped inside.
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs, getting changed," she covered.
"I come bearing gifts," Harry said, holding up the wallet.
"Photos?" Sarah asked, slightly confused until she remembered. "The wedding?"
"Why else would I be calling 'round at this hour?"
"I'll put the kettle on."
"Music to my ears."
~~
He knew when she'd seen it. Her whole body changed. They had both looked through his pictures of that day, before the ceremony, during and after, talking about the guests or the location or their memories. Then they came to that picture. The one he wasn't sure if he could put in there or not.
But then they could have asked for the negatives to make their own copies, and what was he going to do? Cut that one out of the strip? Claim he'd lost them?
Peter was distracted for a moment by the one Sarah had just discarded but then the two of them were looking at this off-guard moment.
And Harry felt his heart break all over again, just like it had when he'd heard those words : I now pronounce you husband and wife.
"I should go," he said quickly, putting his cup down. "I've taken up enough of your night, and you can look through those at your leisure."
"They're beautiful," Sarah said quietly. "Harry..."
"Keep them. The negatives are in there too."
"You kept copies though?" Peter asked.
Harry didn't respond.
"We can't..." Sarah began, but she stopped when Harry got to his feet. "Thank you," she said, recognising his mood. "Dinner soon, yeah? You and me?"
"That'd be nice," he said with warmth and enthusiasm.
Peter said nothing. He watched his wife show her friend out, then he looked back at the photos. When she returned he handed her the one taken during the speeches and looked at her.
"Oh," was all she said.
~~
Harry stopped and turned as he heard Sarah calling his name. She was running down the street towards him and so he stopped and waited.
"Here," she said, holding out the photos.
"Sarah..."
"I'm sorry," was all she could say.
"Not your fault."
"Yeah, but... I'm still sorry."
He took the pictures back from her, looking at them for a moment. He lifted the flap and quickly pulled out one, handing it back to her before slipping the rest of them into his jacket pocket.
"I don't want to lose you," she said quickly, glancing at the photo he'd given her.
"You won't," he assured her. "Just... I'll be fine. I will."
Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. Then she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, holding them there in a lingering kiss. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, old girl."
~~
"He's my oldest friend," Sarah told Peter sadly as she leant back against the front door. "We've been through so much together, seen and done... so much. And I never knew. I never saw it." She looked at the picture in her hand, a stolen moment during the speeches.
"You weren't looking for it," he replied.
"I should have seen it, I should have known."
Could things be that different this time around? Or had he loved her before? Only before he'd not had to watch her marry someone else, love someone else, make a home with someone else. All those long nights working together, staying up late, getting up early. All that time they spent together and not once...
"You OK?" Peter asked, walking over to her. He took the photo from her and smiled. "It's a beautiful picture."
"I'll be fine," she said quietly. "Really." She fixed her eyes on his. "I love you."
"I know," he said.
She let him pull her into a hug, resting her head against his chest. She felt his lips press against her hair and smiled. "That's nice," she muttered, listening to the thud-thud of his heart.
"What? This?" he asked, kissing the top of her head again.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, it is nice, isn't it?" he agreed, nuzzling her hair. He knew why she ran after Harry and he suspected what had happened. But he didn't need to ask, he didn't need to know. He loved and trusted her and that was enough. That was what love actually meant.