London bridge
the first thing that came to mind was something entirely different, but the muse wouldn't cooperate. Earlier today my mother opened a music box I hadn't seen in years, and this song came out. Instant inspiration! Forgive me if I haven't got Sarah completely right yet... still learning.
London Bridge
Author: chanter
Series: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: very faint Four-Sarah
Summary: running on the same arc as shape Shifting and When The Dawn Breaks, set between the two. Journalist or no, they’ll think that she’s mad. But she knows she isn’t.
Challenge #116 verse
400 words
London bridge is falling down...
They’ll witness destruction and restoration together, construction and demolition, things that make them sick and things that make them sing. They’ll get a Tardis’s-eye view of the best and the worst of races and worlds.
Falling down, falling down...
They’ll watch cities clouded in grey shades of progress crumble into chips of rusted steel and piles of ash, then skip five minutes back and change history the better to keep them upright. Then they’ll stand at the top of some nearby building’s staircase, watching the unpolluted sunset that in some alternate reality is now charcoal grey. But not for them.
London bridge is falling down...
And when it’s twilight they’ll clamber down, they’ll turn back the way they came and just after dark they’ll go bouncing off across the universe in a magical blue box.
My fair lady.
Neither of them are perfect. He has flaws and so does she. He’s endearingly fallible and she’s only human. He thinks she’s beautiful, though he’s never said so in so many words.
Take the key and lock her up...
She’s a too far forward-thinking alien to her world, he’s an interfering exile to his. But they can leave their respective worlds behind. And they can live with each other. And then some.
Lock her up, lock her up...
If she ever dares tell anyone outside UNIT about a fraction of what she’s done-is doing-will do, they’ll cart her away to hospital faster than a girl can say ‘Exterminate!’ Journalist or no, they’ll think that she’s mad.
Take the key and lock her up...
But the key dangling on the silver chain round her neck tells her she isn’t. And she knows she isn’t. and he knows she isn’t. And that’s all that matters.
My fair lady.
She only feels she’s beautiful when his hands are in her hair, or when he’s called her by her name--not the whole thing, not Sarah Jane. Just Sarah. But she doesn’t care about the outward bits anymore. Because on a trip like this, with company like she’s keeping, skin-deep elements don’t exactly hold up. She doesn’t think she’s beautiful.
Because she has a silver key. And a magical blue box. And a Time Lord in a crazy-colored scarf who never fails to do something intriguing, surprising, amusing, enchanting. She doesn’t care if she’s beautiful.
Because she doesn’t need to be.
London Bridge
Author: chanter
Series: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: very faint Four-Sarah
Summary: running on the same arc as shape Shifting and When The Dawn Breaks, set between the two. Journalist or no, they’ll think that she’s mad. But she knows she isn’t.
Challenge #116 verse
400 words
London bridge is falling down...
They’ll witness destruction and restoration together, construction and demolition, things that make them sick and things that make them sing. They’ll get a Tardis’s-eye view of the best and the worst of races and worlds.
Falling down, falling down...
They’ll watch cities clouded in grey shades of progress crumble into chips of rusted steel and piles of ash, then skip five minutes back and change history the better to keep them upright. Then they’ll stand at the top of some nearby building’s staircase, watching the unpolluted sunset that in some alternate reality is now charcoal grey. But not for them.
London bridge is falling down...
And when it’s twilight they’ll clamber down, they’ll turn back the way they came and just after dark they’ll go bouncing off across the universe in a magical blue box.
My fair lady.
Neither of them are perfect. He has flaws and so does she. He’s endearingly fallible and she’s only human. He thinks she’s beautiful, though he’s never said so in so many words.
Take the key and lock her up...
She’s a too far forward-thinking alien to her world, he’s an interfering exile to his. But they can leave their respective worlds behind. And they can live with each other. And then some.
Lock her up, lock her up...
If she ever dares tell anyone outside UNIT about a fraction of what she’s done-is doing-will do, they’ll cart her away to hospital faster than a girl can say ‘Exterminate!’ Journalist or no, they’ll think that she’s mad.
Take the key and lock her up...
But the key dangling on the silver chain round her neck tells her she isn’t. And she knows she isn’t. and he knows she isn’t. And that’s all that matters.
My fair lady.
She only feels she’s beautiful when his hands are in her hair, or when he’s called her by her name--not the whole thing, not Sarah Jane. Just Sarah. But she doesn’t care about the outward bits anymore. Because on a trip like this, with company like she’s keeping, skin-deep elements don’t exactly hold up. She doesn’t think she’s beautiful.
Because she has a silver key. And a magical blue box. And a Time Lord in a crazy-colored scarf who never fails to do something intriguing, surprising, amusing, enchanting. She doesn’t care if she’s beautiful.
Because she doesn’t need to be.