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28 December 2008 @ 12:28 am
FIC: Doctor Who, do you know where friendship ends & passion does begin?, Eight/Sarah Jane  
Title: do you know where friendship ends & passion does begin?

Author: riverdresses

Pairing: Eight/Sarah Jane

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Temporarily sidetracked while on a trip with the Doctor, Sarah brings up a long-forgotten bit of whimsy that the Doctor encourages her to turn into reality.

Disclaimer: I'd not mind owning Eight or Sarah Jane at all! But, as it is, I don't. & that is all we can say.

Notes: This fic would not exist without the help of both of the lovely ladies backinblackk, who did the preliminary beta-reading for this & wildannuette who did a lovely job Brit-picking this for me. Title is from the song Stockings by Suzanne Vega, which helped inspire this fic to a certain extent.

The timeline for Eight, just to keep everything straight is post-TVM, pre-Storm Warning & for Sarah, pre-The Sarah Jane Adventures & School Reunion, but you can always disregard that for this story.

Crossposted to riverdresses & who_otp.

Sarah poked her head outside of the TARDIS slightly nervously. As usual, the Doctor had rushed out first, leaving her to figure things out until he came around again, waving his sonic screwdriver at her whilst simultaneously beckoning her toward him.

She sighed, but more out of nostalgia than annoyance. No matter what face he wore, no matter how different he was almost every time she turned her head, she trusted him.

After about five minutes of standing outside of the TARDIS, she finally grew tired of waiting and set off to look for him. As she walked, she began to pay closer attention to her surroundings which were, she realised, quite beautiful. She could smell the grass all around her, and strange floral scents which she could not recognise. The light of the sun filtered through the trees, patterning the exposed places of her skin in a leaf-like pattern. She kept walking, idly wishing she'd brought a packet of breadcrumbs with her, just in case.

After about ten minutes of walking, she found herself standing on the embankment of a rather large lake, with water green and blue toned depending on the direction in which the water moved toward.

She sighed again, this time out of sheer irritation. It was so like him to let himself get carried off by wherever they'd landed and occasionally forget that he wasn't completely alone.

Well, the planet seemed safe enough, and the lake wasn't that far from where the TARDIS had landed. She sat down in the soft grass and leaned back against a tree. He could find her, she knew he would, if he absolutely had to. He always had before.

Before long, Sarah felt herself becoming a bit drowsy. She slipped off her jacket and laid it on the grass and lay back on it, looking up at the sky and at the two visible moons on either side of the lake. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sun shining down on her through the branches and leaves of the tree.

Before she knew it, she had dozed off to the sound of rustling leaves, moving water and from the warmth of the sun on her face. The slight breeze kept her from falling completely asleep, but it wasn't quite enough to keep her from merely dozing off.

A soft snapping sound near Sarah's left ear and a softly hissed,'Dammit!' caused Sarah's eyes to open slowly. She blinked a bit, her vision slightly clouded over from her small respite. She rubbed her eyes and turned over to find the Doctor sitting next to her, tucking two pieces of something into the pocket of his coat before producing a second, whole item. He looked over at Sarah, looking slightly sheepish.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, Sarah.' he said, placing the thin, unbroken item into the centre of the book in his lap.

'It's quite alright Doctor - I was looking for you and I . . . I must have fallen asleep here - where did you go?'

'I, well . . . I did mean to see where we landed - I did promise you a quick trip to New Versailles, but well, I got a bit distracted too, I suppose.' He held up the book in his lap. 'Well, this isn't New Versailles, but that's alright, we'll get there soon enough - I found this in my pocket! I'd wondered where this old thing had got to - I thought I'd lost it at that dinner party I went to with Catherine the Great, but here it was, right in my pocket the whole time!'

Sarah blinked. 'Doctor, even in . . . what is this, your eighth body now, you still haven't lost your ability to talk too fast for me to keep up with!'

The Doctor smiled and said, 'My apologies, Sarah. I found my sketchbook! And then, I found you, not where I was expecting you to be, admittedly, but I didfind you. And, with a little luck, I found two the two charcoal pencils I left in here at that very same party - do you know I was almost commissioned to paint Catherine's portrait?'

Sarah laughed. 'Doctor, the last time we met, you could barely draw a stick figure. And now you tell me that you almost painted the portrait of a queen?'

The Doctor just laughed and tapped Sarah's nose with the charcoal pencil.'Well, this time around, I can draw a better stick figure, and more, if I find something worth drawing!' He handed her the book. 'Have a look, if you'd like.'

Sarah took the book from his hand and studied it. It was a sketchbook covered in the same green velvet as the Doctor's coat. She opened it and flipped slowly through the tea-coloured pages, full of scribblings, sketches, a full drawing every so often and, as one might expect from the Doctor, words and figures scribbled down in various coloured inks, with some in pencil, some in charcoal, one set of figures even written in black crayon. He had a spare pencil tucked carefully down the spine of the book, along with a piece of purple pastel crayon that left thick smears on Sarah's fingers as she pried it loose, then quickly tucked it back.

The Doctor offered her a handkerchief, lay the book back across his knees and began idly turning its pages. She wiped the purple mess from her fingers and palms and passed the now violet-stained handkerchief back to him. He took it without averting his eyes from the pages and stuffed it into the pocket of his waistcoat. He flipped back to his current drawing and began rubbing at the drawing with the tip of his thumb, biting his lip as he did.

Sarah was quiet for a few moments, taking in the iridescent water of the lake and the Doctor, hunched over his sketchbook, only occasionally glancing outward in different directions before returning to his work.

Then, finally, 'May I see it?'

The Doctor's head snapped up at the sound of Sarah's voice, his hair in his eyes and his lip rather red from where he'd been biting at it in concentration. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked first at his drawing, then at Sarah. 'Well, um, it isn't done yet and I'd prefer not to show it before I'm halfway done - Sarah!'

Sarah had taken advantage of the Doctor's momentary confusion to tug the book from his hands and look at what he'd been working so hard at. She felt her face grow warm when she saw it.

It was the lake, the two moons on either side, and her, asleep in the grass before the Doctor had woke her. It was clear that he'd taken his time in drawing her, and had only begun the proper work on the rest of the landscape just before she'd taken the book from him.

She dropped her head further over the page, hoping her hair would conceal the slight redness of her face that she could feel growing into a full blush of flattery. She didn't protest when the Doctor gently pulled the book from her hands, closed it and tucked it back into his pocket.

They were quiet for a moment, until Sarah finally broke the silence.

'I don't look anything like that, you know.'

Then, in a teasing tone, she added, 'You still can't draw, Doctor.'

The Doctor grinned at her. 'I drew exactly what I saw, Sarah Jane. I drew you, sound asleep in the grass, and honestly, I think I did it rather well.'

Sarah laughed and lay back down on her jacket. 'That's what all artists say when their subjects protest their renderings!'

'True indeed, but really,' the Doctor said, sliding down next to Sarah and looking up at the sky with her, 'how many of them are just being bashful and modest?'

'Leave it to you to know just what to say to discredit your subjects!' Sarah said, laughing even harder. Truly, he was right - but it was slightly embarrassing on some level to admit that, even if she would have liked to.

They were silent for a time, why, Sarah was unsure. But she found that she didn't mind the silence, though when the Doctor was silent, it could never mean anything good. But he looked content at the moment, his head resting on a bit of Sarah's jacket collar and slightly on her shoulder.

'Doctor?' Sarah said suddenly, breaking the stillness and turning on her side to better see him, 'may I tell you something?'

The Doctor turned over on his side so that he was face-to-face with her. 'Of course, Sarah.' he said softly.

'It's kind of silly, really,' she began, feeling her face heating up again, 'but your picture reminded me of it.'

'Of what?' he asked, propping his head up on his hand.

'Well. . . ' she began, wondering if she should just forget this silliness,'I don't think there was ever a time in my life that I didn't want to write professionally. Or, later, be a journalist for a proper magazine.' She smiled a bit at the memories washing back over her, memories she'd not thought of in years. 'Do you know, when I was about six or seven, I made up my mind that I'd have my own newspaper?'

The Doctor chuckled and smiled. 'From you, Sarah, that doesn't surprise me in the least.'

Sarah laughed. 'No, I mean, I really decided to have my own newspaper! It was a three-page periodical I pasted up in my aunt Lavinia's basement. It was the Sarah Jane Smith Quarterly and I'd make thirty copies and leave them on every doorstep of my street.' She lay back on her jacket and laughed a bit more. 'It made it up to six issues before the pocket money I saved up to make them with finally ran out.'

'Only six issues? From you, Sarah, I would have expected you to have made at least a volume's worth.' The Doctor smiled and lay back down on her jacket, his head on her shoulder again. 'Is that the silliness that you wanted to tell me about?'

'Oh, I haven't even made it to the silliness yet - though I suppose it isn't really silly, just so much as . . . different for me, you might say.The silliness comes when I was working at Metropolitan - being a writer, I worked mostly behind the scenes, of course and generally, on the more serious articles. But occasionally, if one of our regular columnists was unable to handle an assignment, they'd ask me to do it. It was usually just the most frivolous things you could imagine - fashion spreads, makeup articles, forecasting trends for the next year! I hated having to write those things - I felt like they'd never let me get taken seriously in the journalism world. But sometimes. . . oh, this is the silly part now - when I did have to write about those things, I'd be required to be onset with the models and photographers and well . . . just watching those girls get made up and get photographed . . . it's stupid now, really, but sometimes, I wanted to be in their place. Just once. I've always wanted to be a journalist - always, Doctor. But back then . . . well, back then, sometimes I just wondered what it would be like to trade places with the girls like that.'

The Doctor listened to Sarah with rapt attention. When she was done, he let her revelation sit between them for a few moments.

Those moments made Sarah uncomfortable. 'I'm sorry Doctor, it was a stupid thing to have brought up at all - maybe we should just get going.'

She stood up, tossing her jacket over her arm and was ready to make her way back to the TARDIS when the Doctor stopped her.

'Sarah, that wasn't silly or stupid to have brought up or to have told me at all - you just told me a small dream you had when you were young. It's nothing to feel embarrassed about.'

Sarah took his words in quietly.

'Sarah - if you like, that dream can still come true. If you want it to, of course.'

Sarah laughed but this time, her laugh was more on the bitter, mocking side. 'Doctor, I highly doubt any magazine would take me as a model now - '

'Then don't worry about them.' he said. 'If you like, you can model for me. Again, if you want to think of it that way - you modelled for me when I drew you earlier and you didn't even realise it. If you want, Sarah, I can properly draw you.'

Sarah was quiet. 'Do you make dreams come true now, Doctor?'

The Doctor simply smiled.

'There are thousands of rooms in the TARDIS. There's an entire wardrobe for you to go through. No one but me will ever see these, Sarah. I give you my word.'

Sarah just smiled brightly and let the Doctor lead her back to the TARDIS.


'Alright Sarah, just lean back a little more - oh, no, try not to let your back touch the chair's back, it'll look better, I think. Let me know when you're ready to change poses.'

Sarah sat as straight as she could, hoping the Doctor wouldn't draw in all the colour of her cheeks as she posed for him. Sarah Jane Smith rarely admitted this to herself, but she was just a bit nervous about all of this. She knew she had no reason to be though - this was the Doctor.She trusted him. She knew him. She knew there was nothing to worry or to be nervous about - it wasn't as though he were going to plaster the whole of the TARDIS with his drawings of her, or even put them where someone would find them at all.

Nothing to worry about at all.

So, really, Sarah, why not just indulge that silly little dream? Just once, she thought to herself as she wriggled a bit to loosen her slightly stiffening muscles and as she listened to the story the Doctor was telling her.

'.. . . I mean, really, her use of negative space was amazing, but skulls and flowers - I said 'Georgia, why not try for a new subject altogether, really shock the critics out of their shoes?' Then she says that if I'm so keen on finding her new subjects to work with, why don't I just pose for her?'

'Did you?' Sarah asked, her back starting to hurt.

'Well. . . no, I didn't, for obvious reasons, but well, what could I do? I mean, some would say I meddle in history enough and we already know I've done a bit of meddling about in art history itself . . . Sarah, do you want to change poses now?'

'Oh, yes please.' she said, slumping back into the chair. 'May I have a look, Doctor?'

'Sarah, you know the rules: no looking until I formally announce the end of the pose. But, seeing as I just did, of course you can.'

Sarah hopped out of the chair and peered over the Doctor's shoulder at the work. Once again, he'd taken very precise strokes and lines to create the drawing. The detail surprised Sarah with its accuracy and its complexity. Admittedly, she knew very little about art, but she knew that this regeneration was clearly very talented within its parameters.

'Should we try another one?' he asked her, flipping to a fresh page in his sketchbook. 'Or should we have some tea, then come back to it?'

'Can we take our tea in the art gallery? Oh, is it still here? I loved going in there! Your taste in art was - is, rather, always wonderful.'

The Doctor's eyes lit up. 'Yes the art gallery is still here - how could I ever get rid of it? Why don't you have a look around in there and I'll make the tea - art gallery's tenth door on the left down the hallway and you still like grape jam with your scones, right?'

'Right!' Sarah said brightly. 'I'll meet you in the gallery, Doctor!'


It literally had been years since Sarah had been in the TARDIS' art gallery. It was one of her favourite rooms, as well as the Doctor's. She recognised half the paintings lining the walls, but there were many more now that she could not. She supposed the Doctor had picked them up after she'd left and made a mental note to ask him where they were from during tea.

She found herself standing in front of a Degas painting when she heard the door open. She turned to see the Doctor wheeling in a little tea-cart full of scones, jam, teacups and a tea kettle. She turned away from the painting and made her way over to the round table in the centre of the room just as the Doctor did and began helping him set the table for the two of them.

Over tea, they discussed the additions to the Doctor's gallery during the time that Sarah had been away. He told her of the revival of Impressionism on a planet three galaxies away from them, the public outrage over Surrealism on another world, and about an entire planet founded on the art of the Rococo period.

'Of course, it's not all about alien art, Sarah.' the Doctor said through a mouthful of cake. 'I saw you admiring the Degas and the Picasso next to it.'

Sarah smiled into her teacup. 'Well . . . I had to gravitate toward something I knew in this room! But honestly, Doctor, all of the art and sculpture in here . . . it's breathtaking, even the alien ones. You . . . you must have seen every major art movement on this planet.'

The Doctor swallowed a mouthful of tea and said, 'Well, the biggest ones. But not all in this body, mind you, Sarah.'

'Do you have a favourite?' she asked, buttering up a crumpet.

The Doctor was quiet for a moment, sipping his tea slowly, his eyes moving around the room.

'A favourite, Sarah? I do, but it isn't in here yet. It won't be seen for thousands of years, maybe millions. It's what hasn't been created yet that's my favourite, Sarah. What hasn't been thought up yet, what has yet to be created out of something, or nothing at all . . . those are my favourites.'

Sarah stared at her crumpet for a few moments, absorbing what the Doctor had just said. Just when everything was simple, he could make it so beautifully complex. Infuriating on occasion, but now, in these fleeting seconds . . . she found it a beautiful sentiment.

'But in this room? Oh, let me think . . . the Renoir. Yes, the Renoir. And of course, Starry Night, but that would have been too obvious an answer.' he said, laughing softly.

Sarah kept buttering her crumpet and spreading a bit of jam atop the butter before she said, 'I'm rather fond of your taste in sculpture as well, Doctor. ' She took a small bite, chewed and swallowed before she said, 'Though the nudes were a bit of a surprise, you know.'

The Doctor made a slight spluttering sound into his teacup before looking back up at Sarah. Sarah just smiled and leaned back into her chair as the Doctor hastily wiped tea from his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat before he spoke.

'Oh, really? Well, you know, some of them were done by friends -'

'Friends, Doctor?'

'Oh,you know, just the occasional acquaintance I would make while having tea in cafes during the Belle Epoque . . . I was actually once sketched in a cafe there, in, oh, I think . . . 1889, I think. I still have it, I think. So some of those sculptures were done by those friends to decorate my gallery, you see.'

Sarah looked a bit surprised. 'You mean to say that you actually brought them into the -'

'Oh,of course, not, Sarah! How daft do you think I am? No, no, I told them that my 'gallery' was sort of a travelling one, one that went all over the world usually. Of course they'd ask to see it, but I couldn't let them, obviously.'

Sarah nodded as she finished the last of her crumpet, licking the jam off one of her fingers absentmindedly.

'I used to sit in on some of the sessions they'd have - oh, Sarah, it was just wonderful! They really knew how to pick their subjects, live or inanimate. It was incredibly invigorating.'

Sarah was half-listening, half-thinking as the Doctor rhapsodisedabout his artist friends and the occasional adventures they would have in-between sessions and the occasional parties and salons they'd attend. She sighed thoughtfully without realising he'd finished speaking.

'Feeling a bit wistful, Sarah?' he asked with a knowing smile on his face.

She returned his smile, even more wistfully and simply said, 'Well, perhaps. Goodness, it's just been a rather interesting visit with you, Doctor. Completely unexpected, but still, just as interesting as ever. It's like . . . '

'Like mere seconds have passed between the last time we saw each other and the first time we met again?' he offered, draining his cup and setting it back onto its saucer.

'Something like that, yes.' Sarah said, nodding. 'But all this talk of art and such leaves just one question, Doctor - can you only sketch, or do you paint at all?'

'Well, I sketch far better than I paint, honestly, but I can paint fairly decently . . . Sarah, why do I have the feeling this is leading to a second question you've been biding your time in asking me?'

Sarah tried not to laugh or giggle like a little girl, though she felt like one at the moment. It wasn't a bad feeling, but more of a playful, bordering on cheeky feeling.

'In a word, Doctor? Of course!'

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, unconsciously mimicking Sarah's relaxed pose, a curious look on his face.

'I've let you sketch me, Doctor. Under the same conditions and promise you've made . . . would you paint me as well?'

'I'll certainly try, Sarah. If you want me to. But I won't promise a masterpiece like the ones you're sitting in front of.'

'What the hell?' Sarah said, grinning. 'As long as we enjoy the process, who really cares how the work ultimately comes out as?'

'Well, don't you think I would care?' he asked, but with a smile.

'Doctor. Aren't you the one who taught me that no matter where the destination is, it's always about the adventure?' She tried to maintain a serious look on her face, even though she wanted to smile as madly as she could.

The Doctor and Sarah looked each other straight in the eye. She was challenging him, teasing him, almost goading him into the idea. And the two of them knew that the Doctor, no matter what body he wore, no matter how he had changed from when she knew him, he could never resist a challenge set before him, be it serious or for simple amusement.

'One thought, Sarah,' he said, leaning over the tea tray, his eyes locked onto hers. 'Why don't we try it in the spirit of the Belle Epoque artists?'

Sarah kept her eyes on the Doctor, thinking over what had been laid out before her. She knew what could come from it and of course, what the adventure in getting to their destination would be.

'Costumed? Or the same as earlier?'

'Your call, Sarah Jane. In this studio, it's always the model's call.'

Sarah and the Doctor shared a smile over the cooling tea and crumpet crumbs. A silent answer, an open challenge, with a destination promising an interesting path to travel.


Twenty minutes later, after they'd set the tea dishes away and straightened out the art gallery a bit, the Doctor was setting up a slightly tatty looking wooden easel and digging out various sized tubes of paint from a trunk next to the easel. He leaned over the railing to see if Sarah had come out of the wardrobe yet.

'Sarah? I'm all ready up here, are you?'

Sarah hurried out of the wardrobe quickly - it was impossible to pick out a single outfit in there - how did the Doctor ever do that,she wondered, and raced up the staircase to where the room the Doctor had, with some slight embarrassment, admitted to retreating to when he felt like painting or practising his sketching.

'Doctor?' she called, turning the doorknob and pushing the door open slightly. She found the Doctor sitting at a wooden easel, a canvas propped up on its frame and an array of paints laid out on a narrow table next to him. His frock coat, cravat and waistcoat sat across the room on a burgundy winged chair. He turned at the sound of Sarah's voice, his eyes lighting up.

'Oh, wonderful, Sarah! I thought I'd have to just move the whole lot down to the wardrobe and just paint you there - oh, that would be an interesting idea for a sketch, what would you say to that?'

Sarah laughed and moved over to the red fainting couch arranged near the easel. 'I'd like that, actually, Doctor - can we consider it after the painting?'

'Of course!' he said, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt. He looked at Sarah's chosen costume and nodded appreciatively. 'Ah, I see you went for the kimono - that was a gift to me by Lady Murasaki you know, fabulous writer and you know, she had the best taste in tea I've ever - oh.'

Sarah had taken off the pale green and white kimono to reveal a second, much different type of costume underneath, which consisted of a black lace camisole with matching knickers, suspender belt and stockings. Around her neck, she had looped a long string of pearls twice around, leaving the rest of the pearls to hang enticingly along her chest and stomach. The pearls glowed with an almost ethereal glow from the gas lamps and candles which lit the room.

The blackness of the lingerie, the soft colouring of the pearls and the whiteness of Sarah's skin made the Doctor's mouth go a bit dry, despite the tea the two of them had just taken. Sarah, however, seemed to take little notice of the sudden change in the Doctor's demeanour and sat down on the couch, swinging her legs over the opposite end.

'I hope you don't mind that I borrowed the, erm, lingerie, Doctor.' Sarah said conversationally. I found them in a drawer near the kimono and,well, I didn't mention it earlier, but I saw that you had an original copy of the Elles lithographs and, well, they're actually kind of - '

'It's . . . it's perfectly alright Sarah.' The Doctor said, taking another sip of the tea that sat on the little table next to where his paints were. 'I did say this would be in the spirit of the Belle Epoque, after all.'

Sarah looked happier and said, 'So, how should I sit, Doctor? Or should I lie down, or what would you prefer?'

'Um, well, I'm not sure yet . . . ' he began, running a hand through his hair, finding both word and thought suddenly a little harder to come by than it had been earlier. 'Um, perhaps a reclining pose would work best. . . yes, let's try that.'

Sarah nodded and began arranging herself carefully on the couch into said position. The Doctor turned back to his easel, making sure the canvas was stretched properly, that he had all the necessary paints and supplies, and doing whatever he could to avoid gawking at Sarah like a fool.

'How's this Doctor?' she asked, pulling the Doctor back into the reality of the room.

He turned to find Sarah's shoulders pressed against one side of the couch, her left leg bent at the knee, her right one straight. Her right arm rested across her stomach, a few of the pearls entwined around her fingers, while her left hand was buried in her hair. The lower half of her face was lit by the gold and sepia lighting of the room, while the rest of her face was almost entirely obscured by the shadows of the room, in the places where the light would not reach.

It was a perfect pose, he thought. He couldn't have physically shaped or eased her into anything more exquisite for painting or drawing. The way the light played across the room and across Sarah had a slight hypnotic quality to it; it reminded him of the leafy patterns formed on her skin when he'd found her napping by the lake, only the pattern was more sensual now, more enticing and somehow, more fascinating than the earlier patterns traced across her skin by light and leaf.

'Doctor? Is something wrong?' Sarah asked, starting to move slightly.

'Oh, no, no, Sarah, keep that pose, please!' he said quickly, snapping himself back into the present. 'Actually Sarah . . . while painting you would be wonderful, I think I'd much prefer to sketch you like this and perhaps paint it later. Do you mind?'

'Not at all!' Sarah said without moving. 'I'll just stay like this then?'

'Yes, please.' The Doctor hurried across the room, pulling his sketchbook out of the pocket of his coat and racing back to the chair in front of Sarah and the easel. Paints and canvas forgotten, he flipped to a fresh page in the book, whipped out the virgin charcoal pencil from inside the spine of the book and began to sketch.

For the next twenty minutes, the only sounds in the room were of Sarah's light breathing, the scritchscritchscratch of the charcoal on textured paper and of the Doctor's own breathing, slightly deeper than Sarah's, but still quiet.

'Doctor?' Sarah said, breaking the stillness.


'Would you mind if maybe we took a little break? I'm starting to stiffen up a little.'

'Oh,of course.' he said, lying his pencil across the page carefully and moving his chair closer to Sarah on the couch. Sarah exhaled deeply and wriggled down onto her back, the pearls still twisted in and around her fingers.

'Ah, that's better.' she said, a blissful smile on her face. 'Not that I mind posing, of course, Doctor, but it really does put a strain on the muscles!'

The Doctor smiled and nodded. 'It really can, especially certain poses, I've heard. But it's very much worth it. You pose beautifully, Sarah.'

Sarah smiled a bit sheepishly and turned her face from the Doctor. 'Oh, really now, Doctor, you don't need to flatter me - I'll still pose for you until you're done.'

The Doctor felt his face growing rather warm and quickly got up to fetch his now lukewarm tea. Thinking better of it, he said, 'Sarah, would you like a cup of cordial, perhaps?'

Sarah considered it for a moment, then nodded wordlessly. The Doctor set his cup down and descended back down to the kitchen to get Sarah a cup and to bring up the kettle.When he returned, he found Sarah sitting up, absentmindedly sucking at one of the pearls around her fingers, completely lost in her own thoughts.

The sight created a slight knot in the Doctor's stomach. He gripped the small tray harder and said, 'Your cordial, Miss Smith?'

Sarah looked up happily, letting go of the pearls to take her cup from the tray. 'Thank you Doctor - I can't believe how thirsty posing can make you!' She smiled and sipped gladly from the delicate cup. The Doctor turned as quick as he could from the sight without dropping the tray and set it down next to the easel and returned to the chair next to the couch.

They were both quiet as they drank, Sarah toying with the pearls around her neck, the Doctor staring into his cup and trying to think about anything other than Sarah and the pearls twirling and spiralling around her fingers.

Finally, after they'd finished, the Doctor said, 'Well, that was a bit of relaxation - shall we return to work now?'

Sarah nodded, swallowing the last of the cordial and passed the cup to the Doctor, who set it back on the tray. He watched her move back into her previous pose, trying to ignore the faintest rustle of the lace against Sarah's bare skin and against the fabric of the couch. He picked his book up and began working again, forcing himself to take his time with every line that made up the couch, every curve of the round pearls of Sarah's necklace, every crosshatch that would create the shadows hiding her face.

He was so lost in concentrating on lines, smudges, smearing and accuracy that the sound of his pencil snapping in half caused him to jump, knocking the book from his lap.

Without even thinking, Sarah broke her pose and reached over the side of the couch for the Doctor's sketchbook and the part of the pencil that had broken and fallen to the floor. Her pearls made a light thump against the un-carpeted floor as she reached for the fallen items. She pushed both her hair and necklace back as she moved back up to hand the Doctor his things, only to find him studying her rather intently. She swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling rather warm under that gaze.

It was a gaze so intense that it almost more akin to a touch than a look. For a moment, she forgot she was holding the book and pencil half in her hand until he said in a soft voice, 'Sarah.'

She blinked and looked down at the book and piece of charcoal in her hands,then back into the Doctor's eyes. He seemed transfixed in a way, on everything his eyes could touch of her. Transfixed and somehow, a little lost, like a child confronted with a dream toy, but not knowing precisely how it worked or how to make first contact with it. The initial warmth became more of a stronger heated feeling all across her skin. The lace suddenly felt cumbersome on her body, the pearls tiny anvils locking her into place.

The silence was damn near palpable. Thick. Almost choking with words unsaid, emotions pushing against locked lids, and movements which felt too organic to be ignored. However, neither Sarah or the Doctor could find the right combination of word, emotion and movement to cut the silence in two. Not just yet.

Finally,the Doctor took the book and pencil half from Sarah's hands and set them aside. His fingers caught the pearls around her fingers, slackened from her having forgotten them entirely. He pushed a stray lock of hair away from her mouth and tucked it gently behind her ear. He tugged the pearls gently forward, brushing his nose against hers and kissing her, so softly, so lightly, that Sarah wondered if she had either simply imagined the kiss, or her hair was falling into her face again.

He let go of the pearls slowly, letting his fingertips linger on the largest one in the centre, the one Sarah had been playing with earlier. He seemed to be gauging her response to the kiss, which Sarah was quickly trying to work out in her own mind.

Confused? Yes.

Lost? A little.

Encouraging? Certainly.

She lay back on the couch, pulling the Doctor with her by the pearls still in his hand and returned the kiss, but much deeper and more passionately than he had given her first. It didn't take him long to respond in like; he moved fully on top of her, the tip of his tongue teasing hers while the hand with the pearls drew them upward, into her hair, gently tightening the loop around her neck. His free hand moved from her hair, down to her almost bare shoulder, his fingers toying with the strap of the lace camisole, drawing it down just a bit,testing Sarah's limits and decision.

She sighed softly, causing the Doctor to remember that unlike himself, Sarah didn't have a respiratory bypass system and therefore, needed a moment to breathe. He broke the kiss slowly, his hand still clutching the long string of pearls, the other still twisting the lace strap around his finger.

She watched him for a few seconds, before taking the pearls from him gently, then carefully, almost teasingly, unwrapped them from around her neck, leaving the previous double loop one long necklace which trailed past her stomach to the centre of her thighs, the largest, most shimmery pearl resting on the black of her right stockinged thigh. The Doctor slid his finger under that pearl, slowly tugging it upward, until the entire necklace was gone from Sarah's body and was resting in a heap in her lap, the whiteness of the gems a stark contrast to the black lace knickers and lacy tops of her stockings. He took the string from her lap with one hand as he eased Sarah fully down onto the couch. He straddled her, lowering his head and bringing hers closer for another kiss, as she pulled him down against her fully, taking the opportunity to carefully undo the rest of the buttons on his white shirt. She wrapped one leg around his waist when she felt his bare chest pressing against her skin, amidst the folds of her lace and his linen, all of which made her squirm beneath him, arching slightly into him and rubbing the lace of her camisole against him.

She could feel the double beat of his hearts against her, as well as his hand snaking down from the back of her head to her thigh, catching onto the strap that held her stocking up. She rubbed her thigh against his hand, a form of wordless encouragement that he caught onto immediately.She wrapped her other leg around him as he flicked open the clasp holding her stocking tight and began sliding the silk off of her leg after unsnapping the back clasp almost without her noticing his fingers moving at all. She moved against him, breath ragged, almost pleading with him to follow suit with her other leg.

Soon enough, he did, only this time, he slid the clasp very carefully out of its fastening, letting both stocking and strap stroke against Sarah's incredibly sensitised skin. She heard herself panting against the Doctor's bare shoulder, nipping gently at the thin skin over his collarbone as he drew down the second stocking and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

Her legs completely bare now, she pulled away from the kiss, taking as many shallow breaths as she could before before pulling the Doctor back against her, almost tearing his shirt off of him as she struggled to get it away from his body. He sat up and pulled her into his lap, helping her to remove the garment without completely destroying it. Before he could react, she pushed him down onto the couch quickly, now straddling him, as he'd done with her. She lavished his neck and throat with slow kisses and the occasionally sharp nibble to keep things unexpected. As she did so, she reached around and undid the clasps of her suspender belt, tossing it onto the floor as the Doctor had done with her stockings, allowing the Doctor's hands a bit more access and giving him less to mess about with.

Asher hands returned from behind her back, the Doctor caught her wrists in one hand and moved back up into a sitting position, his eyes full of desire and mischief. He pushed her back down, biting sharply at her collarbone and kissing his way down to his shoulder, catching the strap of her camisole in his teeth and pulling, pulling harder and lower until Sarah heard the antique lace begin to rip and snap under the pressure. The Doctor tore at the lace feverishly with hand and teeth til the camisole was in tatters. Sarah kept her legs around the Doctor's waist as he circled her nipple carefully with his tongue, until Sarah heard herself whimpering at the exquisite agony, and in-between shallow breaths whispering for more and more. He tugged gently at her nipple with his teeth, causing Sarah's entire body to arch up fully against the Doctor's as he slowly made his way down from her breast to her ribs, kissing, stroking and caressing every inch of skin his mouth moved against. She could hear her own heart throbbing in her ears, and feel the faint echo of the Doctor's two hearts thudding in his own chest against her body as he moved further down toward her lacy knickers. Her body was shaking as he took the top of the lacy undergarments in his teeth and began pulling them down very slowly, making sure Sarah felt every centimetre of the lace rubbing and stroking against her skin, until she was hissing out his name with every scrape of the fabric on her skin, her legs tightening around him, her own fingers entangled in his hair.

Just as the last barrier was so close to being removed, he stopped suddenly, lifting his head to look at Sarah, her eyes closed, her entire body shuddering with pleasure and shameless arousal. He slipped the pearl necklace back around her neck, just as her hips began to writhe against the couch, trying to get free of her knickers without the Doctor's help. He stilled her hips with both hands, pressing firmly as he kissed her, whispering softly, 'Patience, Sarah. Patience.'

She moaned softly at his words and stopped moving as he began kissing her again, tenderly, passionately, as his hands, now free of the pearls,slid the last fragile, soaked bit of lace from Sarah's body and let it slide down her legs and to the floor, on top of the crumpled pile of linen that was his shirt. He eased her thighs apart gently with one knee, until one leg hung off the side of the fainting couch and the other was pressed firmly against the back of it, held in place by the Doctor's knee. She pushed herself against him, entirely fuelled by lust and passion, all reason and rationality gone from her mind, as the Doctor knew would soon be gone from his in its own time. As he kept Sarah's mouth occupied, his fingers located the largest pearl of the strand and began gently stroking it between her legs, the pearl becoming slick with her wetness. He could feel her legs tighten around him even more, until he could just barely breathe and feel her cries echoing in his mouth.

He could almost taste them, even, at that moment - salty, coppery, sweet, all at once.

The essence of human pleasure.

No, the essence of Sarah Jane's pleasure.

It was sweeter than the finest wines of Gallifrey, the most exotic tea of anywhere he had ever sipped a cup of. Sweeter than the most exotic candies he'd ever tasted anywhere, sharper than the lemons of Florana, headier than the opium dens of nineteenth-century London, or of the very first cup of absinthe upon its making.

It was her pleasure in those muffled cries, those moans and pleas of Doctor, Doctor . . . please.

It was the finest thing to ever taste, in eight lifetimes.

He pushed the pearl deeper between her thighs, moving it carefully as he pulled away from her mouth slowly, feeling her twisting and wriggling underneath him. He pressed a finger to her lips as he began to unfasten his trousers slowly, pressing his finger harder against her lips every time she tried to make noise of any kind. Upping the stakes in her own way, Sarah slipped the tip of her tongue against the slightly roughened skin of his finger, keeping her eyes on his as she eased his finger carefully into her mouth, sucking vigorouslyas the Doctor worked at his fastenings, quicker now, almost in time with the movements of Sarah's mouth. Sarah merely smiled around the Doctor's finger, twirling her tongue quicker and quicker, watching the expressions of his face with each spiral and slip against his finger.

With the final fastening unlocked, both the Doctor and Sarah pushed away the last vestiges of fabric between them, him kicking it to the floor, her pushing it downward with her feet until it landed somewhere on the floor, neither of them interested in where by this time. He pulled the necklace away from Sarah roughly, yanking it over her head and letting it fall noisily behind the couch.

By now Sarah was fully entangled with the Doctor, scarcely knowing her own body ended and where his began now. Her head fell back against the arm of the couch, her damp hair brushing against the velvet material as he finally slid inside her, hearts beating so fast Sarah could hear them over her own single heartbeat, she was sure of it now. She held onto him tighter and tighter, the faster he moved in and out of her, recklessly and wild at first, then slowly easing into a quick, but gentle rthymnwhich caused Sarah to dig her nails into his back, gripping him harder between her thighs and in her arms as they moved back and forth against the velvet. It burned and scraped after a bit on Sarah's bare back, but if it meant being solidly, thoroughly fucked by the Doctor, she'd take that pain and more. She felt the two of them sliding about against the surface of the couch and realised a few seconds later, that they had reversed positions - she on top of him, he underneath her, his head thrown back, lips parted, his hair a wild tangle around his face and on the velvet upholstery. He was still thrusting into her, his mouth forming silent pleas and soft whispers of her name, over and over.

Sarah felt her whole body shudder as she moved on top of the Doctor, every sensation, every feeling heightening as she neared her climax. As she felt herself getting closer, she increased the speed of her own thrusts, moving faster and faster, pinning the Doctor to the couch with only her knees on either side of him and her hands keeping his shoulders pinned so firmly that he could barely move against her. She felt herself smile a small smile to herself at seeing the Doctor - her Doctor so physically helpless and just barely able to move against her or control either of their movements. She felt a rush from seeing it, seeing him as helpless as a trapped butterfly, from hearing him moaning and truly, unabashedly begging her to keep moving, not to stop, ever, please, Sarah Jane . . .

She pushed herself harder against him as she realised how close he was. She moaned softly, not purely out of her own pleasure, but at realising how easy it would be to push him that final step forward, to watch him tumble out of the boundaries of his own control and give her, just for once, a bit of control over him.

She rocked harder against him, feeling him reaching up for her, to pull her down as he fell down, but no, not this time, she decided. She pinned his hands firmly on either side of the couch and closed her eyes as she felt him come, his pleasure rippling and washing over her as it washed over and seemingly, just for a few seconds, drowned him entirely. She kept rocking and pushing herself down onto him, eyes closed, revelling almost selfishly in his uncensored moans, his open, exposed begging. She felt his entire body shaking and quivering underneath her, his cock still moving inside of her, though slower now, as he began to resurface from the lake of pleasure Sarah had thrown him into. But it was all Sarah found that she needed to reach her own orgasm, collapsing against the Doctor's chest, limp as a damp cloth on a clothesline. She wrapped herself around him once more, feeling him enfolding her in his arms, panting her name into her sweat-drenched hair. He held her tight as her body spasmed from her orgasm, kissing her hair and shoulders softly, as he had in the very beginning.

She felt weak now. Spent and exhausted, but she held those feelings with a bit of pride, smiling against the Doctor's chest. He kissed her temple and before she realised it, her eyelids were falling closed and she found herself dozing once more, this time her mind unclouded by questions, just filled with warm, sensuous bliss.

Sometime later, Sarah awoke to find herself alone on the couch, the Doctor's green velvet coat draped over her like a blanket. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and realised that the Doctor was gone.

Nervously, she slipped into the warm frock coat and padded down the spiral staircase to the console room.

'Doctor?' she called.

The Doctor, now wearing his shirt and trousers again, was standing barefoot at the console, carefully studying dials and occasionally flipping a switch up or down. He turned to see Sarah, standing there in nothing but his coat and smiled brightly.

'I'm sorry for leaving you up there Sarah. I didn't want to wake you, but when I awoke, I had a wonderful idea!'

Sarah laughed and sat in the nearest chair, ignoring her lack of clothing. 'And just what would that be, Doctor?'

The Doctor grinned at her, his eyes twinkling familiarly.

'Well, Sarah, before I came down here, I was remembering all the places I took you before, and all the places I wanted to take you. Then I realised the perfect place to take you to, right now.'

'Well don't keep a woman in suspense, Doctor - where are we going? That is, if we haven't already landed.'

The Doctor spun around to the console one final time and pulled a lever and spun a small globe so quick it made Sarah a little dizzy to watch.

'Tell me, Sarah Jane Smith - can you do the can-can, or shall we simply take in the performance?'

feeling a little: bouncybouncy
hearing the sounds of: Her Space Holiday ♦ Hair Cut Short
The Evil Oppressor Persiflage: Eight Consolepersiflage_1 on December 28th, 2008 01:16 pm (UTC)
Rawr!! Very nice, very yummy!!
[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight ;; supernatural yes it's trueriverdresses on December 29th, 2008 06:43 am (UTC)
::beams & blushes all at once::

Thankyou very much! I'm glad you enjoyed reading it!

(& hello there! ::waves::)
The Evil Oppressor Persiflage: SJS Specs Sexinesspersiflage_1 on December 29th, 2008 06:50 am (UTC)
Heh. I totally enjoyed it. Smexy SJS and Smexy Eight FTW! :D
[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight ;; head against the skyriverdresses on December 29th, 2008 07:04 am (UTC)
YES INDEED! (& I am planning on an admittedly less smutty follow-up to it, but I PROMISE this isn't the last bit of smut for Eight & Sarah! :D)

ZOMG SPECS!WEARING!SARAH. Now THAT is some serious specs appeal right there! ^_^
The Evil Oppressor Persiflage: 10 Geekpersiflage_1 on December 29th, 2008 07:12 am (UTC)
Oh good!! I love Eight/SJS smut! :D

The moment I first saw her in the specs in SJA I knew I had to have an icon. I had a real thing about people in glasses (I'm just waiting for the day Freema has to wear a pair for a story... Guh!!)
Megan: dw - contemplative sarah janesanestlunatic on December 28th, 2008 05:41 pm (UTC)
I'm so jealous of your ability to create such beautiful, vivid imagery - parts that especially stood out to me were the leafy patterns at the beginning and Sarah Jane posing with the pearls and lingerie (yum!). And the porn, of course, was hot and brilliant - though having two attractive characters like Eight and Sarah doesn't hurt in the slightest, I imagine, particularly not when it comes to inspiration. ;)

[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight+sarah ;; promised faerytalesriverdresses on December 29th, 2008 06:49 am (UTC)
O, sweetheart . . . thankyou so much for this comment. I truly appreciated every word of it & I'm quite flattered that you enjoyed my story so much, especially because I ♥ your stories so much!

Thankyou, thankyou! :D
Jessica: dw Romanastarxd_sparrow on December 28th, 2008 06:34 pm (UTC)
Goodness gracious! That was so gorgeous and richly detailed, I'm just about a puddle of mush where I sit. Brava, you!
[dreamwidth]: [dw] romana ii ;; a daisy fresh girlriverdresses on December 29th, 2008 06:54 am (UTC)
::bows shyly:: Thankyou very much! I'm glad you liked it! :D
TeaJennilullabymoon on December 29th, 2008 07:27 pm (UTC)
Oh WOW! This is just totally yummy and awesome! :D
[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight+sarah ;; two way dreamingriverdresses on December 30th, 2008 01:39 pm (UTC)
Thankyou, thankyou! ::big grin:: I'm glad you found it to your liking! ^_^

::sighs quietly over your icon::
TeaJennilullabymoon on December 30th, 2008 09:04 pm (UTC)
lol. you can have it if you want.
[dreamwidth]: [dw] four ;; laughter like windchimesriverdresses on December 31st, 2008 06:59 am (UTC)
O dear, thankyou! (I needed more Sarah icons!) :D
Missus Howard: Dave_Horsey_Liarsyien_island on January 1st, 2009 07:54 pm (UTC)
I am in love with the Belle Epoque image: antique lingerie and pearls, oh mama! Its lovely and sensual, and dangit I think I'm in love with the Eighth Doctor now! Ten who??
[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight+grace ;; ask me to stayriverdresses on January 7th, 2009 11:06 am (UTC)
(I do apologise for the late reply!)

Thankyou very much! O, Eight . . . he's just a dear! (& utterly, utterly sexy as well! :D)
(Deleted comment)
[dreamwidth]: [dw] eight ;; infinity made finiteriverdresses on January 7th, 2009 11:14 am (UTC)
(I'm so sorry for the late reply, hon! I have been SO bad at commenting lately, argh.)

Thankyou so much Jules! ::kisses your cheek:: I'm very flattered that you liked it as much as you did, I really am. I'm a bit speechless, really, so . . . thankyou! ♥♥