Fic: Dream a Little Dream (PG, Gen, 1/4)
Title: Dream a Little Dream
Author: paranoidangel
Words: ~16,000 altogether
Rating: PG
Characters: Sarah Jane Smith, Harry Sullivan, Nat Redfern, Josh Townsend
Spoilers: SJS audios: Buried Secrets and Fatal Consequences, School Reunion and small ones for The Rise of the Cybermen and Age of Steel
Summary: Sarah Jane Smith often wished she believed in coincidences but so far her faith had been shown to be true every time.
Beta: by tellitslant
Disclaimer: Not mine, guv
Notes: I am a horrible, nasty person because this is not 100% finished, and I'm going away next week, so I thought I'd tease you all with the prologue.
That the church was crowded was not a surprise, for Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was a popular man. Despite Sarah calling the other members of UNIT by their names, he was forever the Brigadier to her, even though he had been retired for several years now.
Having read his obituary in the paper a few days beforehand, she had hoped to slip into the back of the congregation and stay unnoticed. However, some of the soldiers she used to know had recognised her and had been anxious to pull her over for a chat before the ceremony. While this at least meant she had no trouble getting in, it did highlight to her just who was missing. These people had done a dangerous job - some of whom were still doing it - and too many of them had not come back alive.
Many people got up and praised the Brigadier, making the service a long one. It was not just the usual 'speak no ill of the dead' talk either, for Sarah agreed with many of the sentiments expressed in the speeches. She wished she had been more grateful to the Brigadier when he was alive and told him how much she had appreciated everything he had done for her during her association with UNIT. While it was too late for him, she resolved to express the same sentiments to some of the other ex-UNIT staff while she could.
Once they were on the way to the graveside she could not help but look around. She had almost given up hope of ever seeing Harry Sullivan alive again but she had thought the Doctor would be here, given his fondness for the Brigadier. There was no telling what he would look like, though, so in theory he could be pretty much any of the people here, except that the Doctor always stuck out a mile in any crowd and so far everyone had seemed fairly normal. It was entirely possible, though, knowing him, that he would get the wrong day or the wrong country by mistake.
She smiled at the thought, remembering the times when that often happened. Her mood did not last, though, for the tone around her was solemn and she had not forgotten the reason why she was here. As the vicar intoned the now-familiar words, she was reminded of other funerals she had been to recently. It seemed like there had been too many, although just one would have been more than enough.
The one she was dreading the most would happen when Harry's status was changed officially from missing to dead. Although until she saw him for herself she would never stop hoping to see him again, just like she had done with the Doctor when she had believed him to be dead once too.
Overwhelmed by her thoughts and memories, Sarah could not hold back her tears that had been threatening for a while in this atmosphere. Although it was not unusual to cry at a funeral, she felt that she had not really known the Brigadier well enough to have the right to appear to grieve for him so openly, not least because it was not just him she was weeping for.
She gave a sniff and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, not that it helped much. She became aware of the presence of a person who had moved nearer to her but whom she wanted to ignore until she felt more composed. She never got the chance to collect herself though, because she saw something white in her peripheral vision and when she looked up she saw whoever stood next to her was offering her his handkerchief. She was obviously not being quite as discreet as she thought she was.
She took it and turned to thank the stranger but she got no words out because the owner of the handkerchief was very definitely Harry Sullivan.
He smiled at her and murmured, "Hello, old girl."
Part 1
Part 2
Epilogue
cross posted to sarahjane_fic, worksonsailors and dwfiction
Author: paranoidangel
Words: ~16,000 altogether
Rating: PG
Characters: Sarah Jane Smith, Harry Sullivan, Nat Redfern, Josh Townsend
Spoilers: SJS audios: Buried Secrets and Fatal Consequences, School Reunion and small ones for The Rise of the Cybermen and Age of Steel
Summary: Sarah Jane Smith often wished she believed in coincidences but so far her faith had been shown to be true every time.
Beta: by tellitslant
Disclaimer: Not mine, guv
Notes: I am a horrible, nasty person because this is not 100% finished, and I'm going away next week, so I thought I'd tease you all with the prologue.
That the church was crowded was not a surprise, for Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was a popular man. Despite Sarah calling the other members of UNIT by their names, he was forever the Brigadier to her, even though he had been retired for several years now.
Having read his obituary in the paper a few days beforehand, she had hoped to slip into the back of the congregation and stay unnoticed. However, some of the soldiers she used to know had recognised her and had been anxious to pull her over for a chat before the ceremony. While this at least meant she had no trouble getting in, it did highlight to her just who was missing. These people had done a dangerous job - some of whom were still doing it - and too many of them had not come back alive.
Many people got up and praised the Brigadier, making the service a long one. It was not just the usual 'speak no ill of the dead' talk either, for Sarah agreed with many of the sentiments expressed in the speeches. She wished she had been more grateful to the Brigadier when he was alive and told him how much she had appreciated everything he had done for her during her association with UNIT. While it was too late for him, she resolved to express the same sentiments to some of the other ex-UNIT staff while she could.
Once they were on the way to the graveside she could not help but look around. She had almost given up hope of ever seeing Harry Sullivan alive again but she had thought the Doctor would be here, given his fondness for the Brigadier. There was no telling what he would look like, though, so in theory he could be pretty much any of the people here, except that the Doctor always stuck out a mile in any crowd and so far everyone had seemed fairly normal. It was entirely possible, though, knowing him, that he would get the wrong day or the wrong country by mistake.
She smiled at the thought, remembering the times when that often happened. Her mood did not last, though, for the tone around her was solemn and she had not forgotten the reason why she was here. As the vicar intoned the now-familiar words, she was reminded of other funerals she had been to recently. It seemed like there had been too many, although just one would have been more than enough.
The one she was dreading the most would happen when Harry's status was changed officially from missing to dead. Although until she saw him for herself she would never stop hoping to see him again, just like she had done with the Doctor when she had believed him to be dead once too.
Overwhelmed by her thoughts and memories, Sarah could not hold back her tears that had been threatening for a while in this atmosphere. Although it was not unusual to cry at a funeral, she felt that she had not really known the Brigadier well enough to have the right to appear to grieve for him so openly, not least because it was not just him she was weeping for.
She gave a sniff and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, not that it helped much. She became aware of the presence of a person who had moved nearer to her but whom she wanted to ignore until she felt more composed. She never got the chance to collect herself though, because she saw something white in her peripheral vision and when she looked up she saw whoever stood next to her was offering her his handkerchief. She was obviously not being quite as discreet as she thought she was.
She took it and turned to thank the stranger but she got no words out because the owner of the handkerchief was very definitely Harry Sullivan.
He smiled at her and murmured, "Hello, old girl."
Part 1
Part 2
Epilogue
cross posted to sarahjane_fic, worksonsailors and dwfiction