FIC: Missed Connections
Title: Missed Connections
Rating: PG
Characters: Four and Lavinia.
Summary: Sarah Jane's like a butterfly, always on the go.
The first time they meet, he leaves her with a most unfavorable impression. He's pounding a fist on the door, bellowing all manner of insults as if trying to goad the flat's occupant outside.
"Clearly, whoever you're looking for isn't there," she says, rather concerned. Whatever sort of people is her niece mixed up with, lately?
"Well, no, but she will be. Tell her I dropped by, won't you?" He shoots her a grin that's probably meant to be friendly, but combined with the booming voice and wild hair is somehow frightening.
"Naturally," she lies.
And with that, he's gone.
**
"Oh, not you again," she mutters, spotting last spring's stranger loitering on the stoop. "My niece is in Pakistan, I'm afraid."
The stranger appears unfazed. "Where in Pakistan?"
"I'm not terribly inclined to tell you, Mister…?"
"Doctor," he corrects.
"You can't possibly be the Doctor Sullivan my niece has been spending her nights with," she says, frowning. She thought Sarah had better taste.
"Absolutely not!" The stranger huffs. "Me, a useless, clumsy oaf like Harry Sullivan?"
She thinks she detects a hint of grudging affection for the mysterious Doctor Sullivan beneath the stranger's bluster. She smiles in spite of herself.
**
"We've got to stop meeting like this," he says, grinning.
She sighs, leaning in the doorframe. It's been over a year since she saw him last, she'd hoped that he'd given up.
"You can't tell me she's out of the country this time, I just checked in with the Brig," he continues. "Funny, he didn't seem terribly happy to see me. I wonder why that is…"
Lavinia could offer several choice explanations but holds her tongue. "Just left for South America this afternoon," she says instead.
"Well, that's the thing about military men, isn't it? Never have their facts straight."
**
"Do you own any other clothes?" she asks, spotting him as she rounds the corner.
"A whole wardrobe full," he says, rapping his knuckles against the wood of an old police box. Funny, she thought they'd been retired years ago. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
She considers the long scarf and decides not to mention the oppressive August heat. "Sarah's off chasing a lead in Manchester this weekend."
"She does keep busy, doesn't she?"
"Like a butterfly, that one, always on the go." Lavinia smiles. "She's up for a British Press Award this year."
"Oh, good for her." He grins.
**
The last time she sees him, he's sitting atop a large crate, popping sweets from a wrinkled paper bag.
"Christmas present for Sarah Jane," he explains, patting the crate.
"It's February."
"Oh, I should have known you'd have such silly, conventional notions about time. It's Christmas sometime, although it does rather explain why London lacks that festive holiday look." He frowns. "Saint Nicholas never cared much for red, you know."
She's almost used to this sort of thing by now. "Help me carry it in then," she says, resigned.
He holds out the bag. "Would you like a Jelly Baby?"
Rating: PG
Characters: Four and Lavinia.
Summary: Sarah Jane's like a butterfly, always on the go.
The first time they meet, he leaves her with a most unfavorable impression. He's pounding a fist on the door, bellowing all manner of insults as if trying to goad the flat's occupant outside.
"Clearly, whoever you're looking for isn't there," she says, rather concerned. Whatever sort of people is her niece mixed up with, lately?
"Well, no, but she will be. Tell her I dropped by, won't you?" He shoots her a grin that's probably meant to be friendly, but combined with the booming voice and wild hair is somehow frightening.
"Naturally," she lies.
And with that, he's gone.
**
"Oh, not you again," she mutters, spotting last spring's stranger loitering on the stoop. "My niece is in Pakistan, I'm afraid."
The stranger appears unfazed. "Where in Pakistan?"
"I'm not terribly inclined to tell you, Mister…?"
"Doctor," he corrects.
"You can't possibly be the Doctor Sullivan my niece has been spending her nights with," she says, frowning. She thought Sarah had better taste.
"Absolutely not!" The stranger huffs. "Me, a useless, clumsy oaf like Harry Sullivan?"
She thinks she detects a hint of grudging affection for the mysterious Doctor Sullivan beneath the stranger's bluster. She smiles in spite of herself.
**
"We've got to stop meeting like this," he says, grinning.
She sighs, leaning in the doorframe. It's been over a year since she saw him last, she'd hoped that he'd given up.
"You can't tell me she's out of the country this time, I just checked in with the Brig," he continues. "Funny, he didn't seem terribly happy to see me. I wonder why that is…"
Lavinia could offer several choice explanations but holds her tongue. "Just left for South America this afternoon," she says instead.
"Well, that's the thing about military men, isn't it? Never have their facts straight."
**
"Do you own any other clothes?" she asks, spotting him as she rounds the corner.
"A whole wardrobe full," he says, rapping his knuckles against the wood of an old police box. Funny, she thought they'd been retired years ago. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
She considers the long scarf and decides not to mention the oppressive August heat. "Sarah's off chasing a lead in Manchester this weekend."
"She does keep busy, doesn't she?"
"Like a butterfly, that one, always on the go." Lavinia smiles. "She's up for a British Press Award this year."
"Oh, good for her." He grins.
**
The last time she sees him, he's sitting atop a large crate, popping sweets from a wrinkled paper bag.
"Christmas present for Sarah Jane," he explains, patting the crate.
"It's February."
"Oh, I should have known you'd have such silly, conventional notions about time. It's Christmas sometime, although it does rather explain why London lacks that festive holiday look." He frowns. "Saint Nicholas never cared much for red, you know."
She's almost used to this sort of thing by now. "Help me carry it in then," she says, resigned.
He holds out the bag. "Would you like a Jelly Baby?"