Fic : Second Chance (PG) | Sarah Jane/Peter Dalton | 11/?
Title : Second Chance
Author : Jen
Rating : PG at the moment, possibly higher in later parts.
Summary : Sarah would give anything to see Peter one last time. With a little help from the Universe and the Doctor, she may just get her wish.
Spoilers : fair game for everything up to and including "The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith" from S3.
Notes : thanks to spydurwebb for having a look over this part.
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10
~~
"I can't do this," Sarah all but sobbed, clinging onto Peter's shoulders.
"Yes you can," he said, reaching around her and rubbing her lower back. "Come on, love, we're almost there."
"I can't. I've had enough."
"Bit late to back out now," he laughed softly.
"You're not helping," she growled. "I... want... this... over with!"
"It'll take as long as it takes," he said, then moved back as her hand began to move from his shoulder to take a swing at him. "I know this is just your hormones and..."
"No, love, this has more to do with the fact that I am trying to squeeze out this bowling ball. Your bowling ball. Your fault."
"You were there too," he reminded her, then quickly added, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"I can't do this, Peter. I just can't."
"Yes you can," he soothed, kissing her hairline. "You're doing amazingly well, we're nearly there."
"You've been saying that for almost a day. It doesn't last this long on TV!"
"We were warned that first labour can be long."
"Long?" she said, shooting him a glance. "We're approaching the twenty-four hour mark and I am not nearly there. Look around you, Peter. No doctors, no nurses, no midwives. If I was 'nearly there' as so many people see fit to tell me then this place would be busier than Kings Cross station!"
"Leave him be, Sarah," came a short voice from the doorway. ""He's trying his best."
"I just want this to be over," she said, turning in Peter's arms to face her aunt.
"Your mother said pretty much the same thing."
Sarah instantly forgot the ebbing contraction. "Did she?"
"Of course in those days men weren't allowed anywhere near the labour wards; your father did the dutiful thing and paced up and down outside. Your mother... she was so scared so I stayed with her. I was there when you were born."
Peter continued to rub his hand up and down his wife's spine, feeling her whole body relax - albeit temporarily - as she listened to her aunt.
"I'll warn you now," Lavinia said, draping her jacket over the back of a chair, "all babies when they are born are ugly. Oh you'll love it and you'll think it's the most beautiful creature on this earth, but it'll also be red and squashed and probably screaming its little lungs out."
"Is it too late to change my mind?" Peter quipped to Sarah.
"I don't care if it's got two heads," Sarah said, "nothing is going to stop me loving my baby."
"Me either," Peter said, kissing the back of her neck.
"Well, love is blind," Lavinia said, walking over to Sarah and kissing her niece on her cheek. "You were small and red and screaming the place down and your parents couldn't have loved you more. I remember looking at your mother and... Well, it was the first time I really envied her."
"I wish she was here," Sarah whispered as the next contraction hit.
"I know, darling," Lavinia soothed, gripping one of Sarah's hands in hers. "But you've got us. Your father wanted to stay but he was told to go and he went. I don't think an army could move this one."
"Not a chance," Peter said softly, his hand shifting around to her swollen belly. He felt the contraction pull across her, trying to push apart the two most important people in his world.
~~
She was right - it wasn't like it was in the movies. She wasn't screaming, yelling and cursing. Her entire body was focussed on the end goal. Lavinia was the one waiting outside, Peter was holding one of Sarah's hands while the other scraped at the hair now plastered with sweat on her head.
He found himself thinking about random moments from the past six months. That night when she'd told him she was pregnant, shown him the scan, they'd barely made it off the stairs. That night he'd slept with his hand almost surgically attached to her stomach, and it had become a habit ever since. When she was four months pregnant he tactfully suggested that she give up work and stay at home. He didn't want any stress interfering with the pregnancy (they weren't using the word miracle, but they thought it every time the baby kicked). She'd agreed fairly quickly, finding herself an editor and writing science fiction books. Peter read over a couple of chapters and realised that it wasn't all fiction but couldn't bring himself to ask. Deniability was the only way he was able to deal with Sarah's time at UNIT.
They'd finished the nursery in tasteful neutral colours. Sarah had found an artistic streak and painted a mural on one of the walls, they'd stocked up on as much as they could, making plans for the things they would buy as soon as they knew it was a boy or girl. They'd fought about names but after months they couldn't decide on anything that either of them liked; discussed schooling options (Sarah was vehemently opposed to private schools and after she'd kicked him out of their bed one night he'd given in fairly rapidly); and he'd mentioned once about making provision in their wills for who would look after the baby if they both died, and she'd promptly burst into tears.
"OK, Sarah, just hold on for one moment..." the midwife said.
"Hold on?" Sarah managed to mutter, wondering how you 'held on' mid-labour.
"Hey," Peter said, getting her attention. "I love you."
She narrowed her eyes. "This is not news."
"No, right now you are the person I love most in this world. Given that's about to change I thought it was worth saying."
"I love you too," Sarah replied. "More than you know. But just so you're aware, soon as this baby's here? You're not getting a look in."
"OK, the head's clear," the midwife said. "One more push. Dad, you want to cut the cord?"
It took Peter a second to realise that she meant him - the word 'dad' sounded unfamiliar anywhere outside of his head, but he nodded.
"Right then. Let's get this baby here."
~~
She had never felt like this and it seemed like it was taking her forever to shuffle out of the bathroom. Using the wall for support she walked back into her room, stopping just inside the door. Peter was stood by the window, holding their daughter in his arms. He turned to look at Sarah, his face lighting up with a whole new kind of love.
"You name her," Sarah said, unable to hold onto the arguments. It didn't matter anymore - none of it did.
Lavinia had come in when the baby had been cleaned up, and said that it was possible that this baby wasn't the ugliest one she'd seen. Sarah and Peter had exchanged glances and smiled at Lavinia's apparent inability to admit when she was wrong. She'd then raced off to "do the honours" with letting people know and buying her grand-niece a suitable going home outfit.
Sarah carefully made her way to the bed and sat on the edge. She'd been a mum before, but adopting a genetically grown, seemingly teenage boy was a million miles away from this and also right on top of it. Peter sat next to her on the bed, and Sarah all but climbed into his lap to get close to the now-sleeping infant. Newborn daughter was clean, fed (oh dear god she was never going to get the hang of breast feeding), and now fast asleep in her father's arms, her tiny mouth forming the perfect o.
"You're sure?" he asked, terrified of picking a name she'd hate.
"Don't really care." Sarah carefully ran a finger down the baby's cheek, marvelling at how soft her skin was.
"I love you, Mrs Dalton," Peter said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this."
"You helped," she quipped. "So. Ideas on a name?"
"Just one," he said.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "What was that one you wanted? Deborah?"
"No, this is a new one."
"Yeah?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the sleeping child.
"Nicole," Peter said.
Sarah finally looked up at him and smiled. "I love it."
"Really?"
"Really. Nicole Dalton. Nicole Grace Dalton."
"Grace?"
"You don't like it?" she asked.
"I love it. Nicole Grace. Welcome to the world, little one."
This was why she'd come back. A life, a home, a family with this man. Everything she wanted she had. That night, dreaming in a room in a house she wouldn't own for years, this was what she wanted. Well, not quite this. She was sure that in her dream there had been several kids. Maybe there would be more, maybe whatever had caused her to lose five babies had gone. Or maybe she'd just been unlucky. Whatever it was she was now a mum. A "proper" mum. This little girl would grow up, a little version of her and Peter. She was already noticing the features she'd inherited from each of them; his eyes were hidden behind her tiny eyelids (and those tiny eyelashes would kill her) and she knew that whenever her daughter looked at her with her father's eyes she'd never be able to refuse her anything.
She'd never be able to refuse her anything anyway.
Suddenly, entwined with the overwhelming love, there was overwhelming fear. She knew all too well what the universe was like, and more than that she knew what was going to happen in the next twenty years. If she carried on this path, if she met up with the Doctor at Defry Vale, if she helped the Xylok crystal build a supercomputer, if she went to the Bubble Shock factory... what would she be exposing her daughter to? Every cell in her body was already geared up to protect Nicole, and she couldn't stand the mere idea of her being anywhere near Slitheen and Sontarans and the Trickster.
"You OK?" Peter asked.
"Just... thinking."
"There's a lot to take in, isn't there?"
"I can't believe we're responsible for her. She needs us for everything. How can we protect her?"
"We'll do our best, love," he said, putting his free arm around her shoulders. "If I could I think I'd lock her up in her room for the rest of her life, but..."
"But we can't do that. She's going to have to experience the world, isn't she?"
"Anything and everything. Except boys. She's never dating."
"Peter!"
"I'm telling you now, there is not a boy on this planet who will be allowed near her."
"Maybe she'll like girls instead," Sarah quipped.
"Leave me alone with my irrationalities. Father's prerogative."
"Fine. Dad," she added.
"Thank you. Mum."
Sarah looked up at him and smiled, kissing him gently. "Thank you," she whispered.
tbc...
Author : Jen
Rating : PG at the moment, possibly higher in later parts.
Summary : Sarah would give anything to see Peter one last time. With a little help from the Universe and the Doctor, she may just get her wish.
Spoilers : fair game for everything up to and including "The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith" from S3.
Notes : thanks to spydurwebb for having a look over this part.
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10
~~
"I can't do this," Sarah all but sobbed, clinging onto Peter's shoulders.
"Yes you can," he said, reaching around her and rubbing her lower back. "Come on, love, we're almost there."
"I can't. I've had enough."
"Bit late to back out now," he laughed softly.
"You're not helping," she growled. "I... want... this... over with!"
"It'll take as long as it takes," he said, then moved back as her hand began to move from his shoulder to take a swing at him. "I know this is just your hormones and..."
"No, love, this has more to do with the fact that I am trying to squeeze out this bowling ball. Your bowling ball. Your fault."
"You were there too," he reminded her, then quickly added, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"I can't do this, Peter. I just can't."
"Yes you can," he soothed, kissing her hairline. "You're doing amazingly well, we're nearly there."
"You've been saying that for almost a day. It doesn't last this long on TV!"
"We were warned that first labour can be long."
"Long?" she said, shooting him a glance. "We're approaching the twenty-four hour mark and I am not nearly there. Look around you, Peter. No doctors, no nurses, no midwives. If I was 'nearly there' as so many people see fit to tell me then this place would be busier than Kings Cross station!"
"Leave him be, Sarah," came a short voice from the doorway. ""He's trying his best."
"I just want this to be over," she said, turning in Peter's arms to face her aunt.
"Your mother said pretty much the same thing."
Sarah instantly forgot the ebbing contraction. "Did she?"
"Of course in those days men weren't allowed anywhere near the labour wards; your father did the dutiful thing and paced up and down outside. Your mother... she was so scared so I stayed with her. I was there when you were born."
Peter continued to rub his hand up and down his wife's spine, feeling her whole body relax - albeit temporarily - as she listened to her aunt.
"I'll warn you now," Lavinia said, draping her jacket over the back of a chair, "all babies when they are born are ugly. Oh you'll love it and you'll think it's the most beautiful creature on this earth, but it'll also be red and squashed and probably screaming its little lungs out."
"Is it too late to change my mind?" Peter quipped to Sarah.
"I don't care if it's got two heads," Sarah said, "nothing is going to stop me loving my baby."
"Me either," Peter said, kissing the back of her neck.
"Well, love is blind," Lavinia said, walking over to Sarah and kissing her niece on her cheek. "You were small and red and screaming the place down and your parents couldn't have loved you more. I remember looking at your mother and... Well, it was the first time I really envied her."
"I wish she was here," Sarah whispered as the next contraction hit.
"I know, darling," Lavinia soothed, gripping one of Sarah's hands in hers. "But you've got us. Your father wanted to stay but he was told to go and he went. I don't think an army could move this one."
"Not a chance," Peter said softly, his hand shifting around to her swollen belly. He felt the contraction pull across her, trying to push apart the two most important people in his world.
~~
She was right - it wasn't like it was in the movies. She wasn't screaming, yelling and cursing. Her entire body was focussed on the end goal. Lavinia was the one waiting outside, Peter was holding one of Sarah's hands while the other scraped at the hair now plastered with sweat on her head.
He found himself thinking about random moments from the past six months. That night when she'd told him she was pregnant, shown him the scan, they'd barely made it off the stairs. That night he'd slept with his hand almost surgically attached to her stomach, and it had become a habit ever since. When she was four months pregnant he tactfully suggested that she give up work and stay at home. He didn't want any stress interfering with the pregnancy (they weren't using the word miracle, but they thought it every time the baby kicked). She'd agreed fairly quickly, finding herself an editor and writing science fiction books. Peter read over a couple of chapters and realised that it wasn't all fiction but couldn't bring himself to ask. Deniability was the only way he was able to deal with Sarah's time at UNIT.
They'd finished the nursery in tasteful neutral colours. Sarah had found an artistic streak and painted a mural on one of the walls, they'd stocked up on as much as they could, making plans for the things they would buy as soon as they knew it was a boy or girl. They'd fought about names but after months they couldn't decide on anything that either of them liked; discussed schooling options (Sarah was vehemently opposed to private schools and after she'd kicked him out of their bed one night he'd given in fairly rapidly); and he'd mentioned once about making provision in their wills for who would look after the baby if they both died, and she'd promptly burst into tears.
"OK, Sarah, just hold on for one moment..." the midwife said.
"Hold on?" Sarah managed to mutter, wondering how you 'held on' mid-labour.
"Hey," Peter said, getting her attention. "I love you."
She narrowed her eyes. "This is not news."
"No, right now you are the person I love most in this world. Given that's about to change I thought it was worth saying."
"I love you too," Sarah replied. "More than you know. But just so you're aware, soon as this baby's here? You're not getting a look in."
"OK, the head's clear," the midwife said. "One more push. Dad, you want to cut the cord?"
It took Peter a second to realise that she meant him - the word 'dad' sounded unfamiliar anywhere outside of his head, but he nodded.
"Right then. Let's get this baby here."
~~
She had never felt like this and it seemed like it was taking her forever to shuffle out of the bathroom. Using the wall for support she walked back into her room, stopping just inside the door. Peter was stood by the window, holding their daughter in his arms. He turned to look at Sarah, his face lighting up with a whole new kind of love.
"You name her," Sarah said, unable to hold onto the arguments. It didn't matter anymore - none of it did.
Lavinia had come in when the baby had been cleaned up, and said that it was possible that this baby wasn't the ugliest one she'd seen. Sarah and Peter had exchanged glances and smiled at Lavinia's apparent inability to admit when she was wrong. She'd then raced off to "do the honours" with letting people know and buying her grand-niece a suitable going home outfit.
Sarah carefully made her way to the bed and sat on the edge. She'd been a mum before, but adopting a genetically grown, seemingly teenage boy was a million miles away from this and also right on top of it. Peter sat next to her on the bed, and Sarah all but climbed into his lap to get close to the now-sleeping infant. Newborn daughter was clean, fed (oh dear god she was never going to get the hang of breast feeding), and now fast asleep in her father's arms, her tiny mouth forming the perfect o.
"You're sure?" he asked, terrified of picking a name she'd hate.
"Don't really care." Sarah carefully ran a finger down the baby's cheek, marvelling at how soft her skin was.
"I love you, Mrs Dalton," Peter said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this."
"You helped," she quipped. "So. Ideas on a name?"
"Just one," he said.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "What was that one you wanted? Deborah?"
"No, this is a new one."
"Yeah?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the sleeping child.
"Nicole," Peter said.
Sarah finally looked up at him and smiled. "I love it."
"Really?"
"Really. Nicole Dalton. Nicole Grace Dalton."
"Grace?"
"You don't like it?" she asked.
"I love it. Nicole Grace. Welcome to the world, little one."
This was why she'd come back. A life, a home, a family with this man. Everything she wanted she had. That night, dreaming in a room in a house she wouldn't own for years, this was what she wanted. Well, not quite this. She was sure that in her dream there had been several kids. Maybe there would be more, maybe whatever had caused her to lose five babies had gone. Or maybe she'd just been unlucky. Whatever it was she was now a mum. A "proper" mum. This little girl would grow up, a little version of her and Peter. She was already noticing the features she'd inherited from each of them; his eyes were hidden behind her tiny eyelids (and those tiny eyelashes would kill her) and she knew that whenever her daughter looked at her with her father's eyes she'd never be able to refuse her anything.
She'd never be able to refuse her anything anyway.
Suddenly, entwined with the overwhelming love, there was overwhelming fear. She knew all too well what the universe was like, and more than that she knew what was going to happen in the next twenty years. If she carried on this path, if she met up with the Doctor at Defry Vale, if she helped the Xylok crystal build a supercomputer, if she went to the Bubble Shock factory... what would she be exposing her daughter to? Every cell in her body was already geared up to protect Nicole, and she couldn't stand the mere idea of her being anywhere near Slitheen and Sontarans and the Trickster.
"You OK?" Peter asked.
"Just... thinking."
"There's a lot to take in, isn't there?"
"I can't believe we're responsible for her. She needs us for everything. How can we protect her?"
"We'll do our best, love," he said, putting his free arm around her shoulders. "If I could I think I'd lock her up in her room for the rest of her life, but..."
"But we can't do that. She's going to have to experience the world, isn't she?"
"Anything and everything. Except boys. She's never dating."
"Peter!"
"I'm telling you now, there is not a boy on this planet who will be allowed near her."
"Maybe she'll like girls instead," Sarah quipped.
"Leave me alone with my irrationalities. Father's prerogative."
"Fine. Dad," she added.
"Thank you. Mum."
Sarah looked up at him and smiled, kissing him gently. "Thank you," she whispered.
tbc...