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Following their battle in Acre, the gang returned to Bassam's house for the night. Upon their arrival, Djaq prepared to seek out her uncle's friend, leaving Will with a squeeze of his hand, whispered words of affection and a promise to not be long. The elder man found her first, running to meet her and embracing her without hesitation, incredibly relieved to see her safe and with her beloved still at her side, unharmed. After all that she had lost and suffered, he could not be more grateful to see her fortune change for the better.

“Welcome back, Safiyya.”


“Sorry, yes, I remember, Djaq.”

“Thanks.” She knew it would take him a little while to get used to, but it was the name she had chosen to live by, continuing to use it even after dropping her disguise and she could not imagine herself going back now. She did not doubt that there would always be times that Bassam would, with a slip of the tongue, call her Safiyya, but she could accept that, and did not intend to completely erase that name from her identity, it was just secondary.

After a minute, Bassam slowly let her out of his embrace, taking her in at arm's length for just a moment before releasing her. “Djaq, now that your friends have brought you home, please tell me you will stay, you have a home here, you will always be welcome here.”

“I know.” She nodded hesitantly. “But is Will?”


“I have to be with him. I love him and I promised him; I won't break that promise. I need him at my side; I cannot stay anywhere he would not be welcome too. You are important to me too, so I am asking you to trust my judgement, trust that my heart knew the other half of my soul when I met him; Will is that person, I have trusted him completely since the day we met, and I ask that you take time to get to know him, and respect him for who he is. All I ask is that you don't just think and feel what people expect you to.”

“Have you ever known me to do what people expect me to?”

Holding her hands out to him, she leant forward slightly, urging him to listen. “You don't understand.”

“You think I don't understand love? Oh, Safiyya, of course I do.”

She let her arms fall back to her sides, his wife had died when she was still a girl, almost a woman but still a good few years away from truly understanding what love was, and yet he still carried her with him in everything. “No, I know, I do. When I was young, you never restricted me for being female, and all I ask is that you treat him with the same fairness, that you don't judge him for being an Englishman.”

He smiled. “You think I care about the colour of his skin? I don't. But I do care about the way he sees yours.”

“He would never change it. He would never change me. He is fascinated by our culture, I am teaching him Arabic, he truly embraces everything about me that comes from being a Saracen; he has only ever seen it as a reason to protect me if I need it. I love that, and I love Will.”

“And he loves you just as much?”

She nodded, simply unable to prevent the edges of her lips curling upwards at the thought. “Yes. You've seen it.”

“He treats you right?”

A broad smile spread across her face. “Yes, of course!”

“Then he is welcome.”

Grinning, she stepped forward to grab him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“So you will stay?”

She let go, not wanting to raise his hopes too much. “Maybe. I don't even know what I want, let alone what he wants. We will talk about it and decide. But I want you to know that whether here or in England, I am very happy. Will is my family and my home.”

Bassam smiled. “I am very proud of you, as would your father, mother, brother and uncle be.” Tears pricked her eyes at the mention of her poor late family. “Now go, don't worry about this old man, go and spend your evening with him.” He watched her walk away, part of him still in disbelief that she was alive, and more incredibly, safe. “Even love that's forever can't give you an infinite number of nights together.”


Djaq didn't have to go far to find her carpenter; Will had already been on his way back to find her, seeking to provide and receive a little well needed comfort. She took him down the corridors to her old room, when they'd arrived Bassam had assured her it was still hers, and whilst it didn't quite feel like hers anymore, it was a quiet, safe place where they could be alone and talk freely. In need of her sanctuary, she was grateful to find him eager to provide it, cuddling her for a long while until she felt relaxed enough to broach the subject they needed to.

“Bassam asked me to stay. Told me I'll always be welcome, promised you are too.”

Gently kissing her forehead, Will let her go but closed his hand around hers as it fell into her lap. “I think we should stay.”

“What?” Though her mind had still to settle, she smiled. “You don't have to say that, you don't have to think you'd be taking me from my home, England has felt like home too, because... because it's been you, you're home not a place.”

He couldn't help smiling back. “I feel the same. Djaq, I think this is were we need to be now.”

She frowned. “Doesn't England need us?”

“Yeah, probably. But I need you more.” Wordlessly, she reached out to cup his cheek, pulling him to her for a deep kiss. “England just needs people to fight for it. But I need you. Don't you think it's cost us enough?”

She nodded as he drew her into his arms, grateful for the kisses he was pressing to her temple; after they day they'd just experienced there was no denying what it cost.

“Our friends, family, you almost died in the mines, I almost hung, you almost... died...” He tried not to think about about the memory of her bleeding in his arms, so close to death, terrified like him. “I don't want it to cost me you too.”

“Me neither.”

“I think we are at a point where we have to choose; I don't want to be fearing for our lives, fighting every day to survive, worrying and fretting and having to hide. I want us to be free; you deserve that more than anyone I've ever known.”

“I want that for you too, you deserve it too, Will. I just want us both to be safe and happy. You think you'll be happy here?”

“Yes. I'm happy because I'm with you. I'm a simple man–”

“You're not simple.”

He smiled, kissing the crown of her head. “You know what I mean, all I want is to be safe and free with my family.” He tilted her head up. “That's you. You make me happy.”

Djaq smiled back. “Are you sure about staying?”

“Completely sure. Unless you really don't want to, in which case I am not opposed to going back to England.”

“No, I hadn't decided, I couldn't, but I trust you, I think you're right. So, let's stay.”
To Be Free
This stemmed from the idea that Will is likely to have suggested they stay, even if not for wanting to learn more about where she grew up, and get to know Bassam and hear about her family from him etc. Even if it was only to put an end to their outlaw status and the danger, Will loves Djaq so much he'd be happy to leave his country (and brother) behind to finally give her the freedom she deserves, especially knowing that if he asked she would follow him anywhere so long as they could be together.


Her jaw dropped in surprise, in shock yet not quite disbelief at the sight before her, at the man stood in her doorway. She had dreamt of such a moment so many times that she knew it to be real, imagination never could compare. Breathless, she threw her arms around him. “Harry.” Clutching him to her as tightly as she could, although it didn't feel tight enough, she pressed her face into his shoulder. “You're alive.”

Smiling, he kissed the top of her head, surrounding her in is embrace and cradling her head in his palm. “I love you, old thing.”

“Oh, Harry.” She leant into him more, as if that could somehow bring them even closer together. “You're alive. You're here. Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”

“Missing in action doesn’t always mean dead. Sorry for scaring you.”

Grinning, she shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He laughed. It was the softest and quietest he'd ever laughed, but it was also the first in many years, falling on two pairs of welcoming ears. “I know. I feel it too. But I'm grateful to be home.”

Pulling back from him, she took his face in her hands, refamiliarising herself with his eyes. “Look at you.”

For a second he let the silence dwell between them, then as he curled an arm around her shoulders to draw her close, kissed her forehead. “I know. Haggard.”

Sarah shook her head vigorously. “No, beautiful.”

He scoffed. “Says you. Well I feel haggard.”

Despite the concern, and the crease that formed in her brow, she smiled. “Sorry, come inside. Let's get you some food, a wash, some rest.” Withdrawing herself from his arms, she took his hand to lead him through the door, but he tugged her back to him.

“Hang on, hang on.” Cupping her cheek, he just gazed at her for a few seconds; soon there would be so much to do and explain, but for now, as long as he could, he wanted to enjoy the peace and freedom he had in being with her. Leaning towards her, he softly, carefully pressed his lips to hers, free hand falling against the small of her back and pulling her body against his.

Once he let go, though breathless, she grinned. “I love you too. I love you and I never stopped.”

His smile softened, for the first time in more months than he dared to count tears started to form in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“What?” He had always been incredibly sweet, she was infinitely glad that despite everything he must have been through, that hadn't changed. “Harry, thank you for making it home to me.” She took his hand in hers, squeezing it and once again pulling him towards the house. “Come on, what do you want to eat?”


Harry lay back in the bed, it was odd to think it was his bed, and closed his eyes, spreading his arm out for Sarah as he felt the mattress dip beside him. He sighed as her head came to rest on his chest, holding her close and kissing the top of her head. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the soft sounds of each other's breathing, until she moved her head to his shoulder. “Are you staring at me?”

She smiled. “Sorry.”

“No, you keep staring.” He stroked her hair, turning his face towards her and relaxing once more, welcoming the rest he was getting even without sleep. “I think I must have died out there, old girl.” Half asleep, she mumbled half a question, and though the words were not quite intelligible, it only made him smile more. “This, right here with you, is heaven.”

She nodded. “Yeah it is. Thank you.”

Hushing her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My pleasure. Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As they drifted off, wrapped in each other's arms, she was almost sure she heard him whisper under his breath to her. “Please be real.”


Sarah woke gently the next morning, warm and cosy and bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtain. She soaked in the feeling of her beloved’s embrace, and opened her eyes to find Harry watching her with a smile. Lips curling upwards in response, she gazed back with sleepy contentment. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever woken to.” Her smile grew as he grinned at the compliment.

“Good morning. Oh, Sarah Jane, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful.”

“How do you feel?”

He waited just a second before answering. “Happy. Loved.” With that he dipped his head closer to kiss her, soft and gentle, his hand moving to her cheek. Satisfied, sure happy included healthy, she tenderly brushed her fingertips through his curls. “I love you.”

“And I love you. You seem rested, sleep well?”

“Didn’t sleep much at all. But I’ve had a night in a warm cosy bed for the first time in years. And my heart is at peace, calm, contented from watching you sleep. You are so beautiful and I just needed to soak that in, absorb it for a few hours. I hope you don’t mind.”

She tentatively shook her head. “Oh, Harry, thank you so much for coming home. I think you need to get some more sleep though, just a couple more hours; you need to rest.”

He held her tighter. “What I need most is you. Just to be here with you, old thing.” Utterly content, he beamed as he watched her, knowing she’d fall back asleep before long. He could hardly believe that after all those years of missing her, of yearning to see her face again, call her ‘old thing’ and hear his name on her lips, she was curled up in his arms. “You will never know how much I needed this.”


Harry stood in the corridor, waiting, though not sure what for. But as Sarah came out of the kitchen to find him, and his gaze settled on her face, he realised what it was he'd needed, the courage she gave him.

“Ready to meet her?” She smiled, wary that it likely wasn't just nerves causing the crease in his brow. Taking his hand, she rubbed his fingers to give him something soothing to focus on instead of the prospect of meeting Sky and later Luke since he was on his way home already, just to meet him.

“What if they hate me?”

“They won't.”

“But what if they do?” The last thing he wanted was to hurt her family, they had both waited so long for one together, and having not managed to give her one, he'd never take that away from her when she'd found it herself.

“They won't. All the things that I love in you, they will love too. I promise; I know them well enough to promise that.”

“And I do trust you.”

“So don't worry. You're my family too; you were family first. I'm not giving any of you up.”

“But I'm telling you they come first.”

Raising her hands to the back of his neck, she brought her lips to his to curb his fears with a kiss. “They will love you. I know they will choose you like they chose me.”

“Come on then.” He let her lead him through to the kitchen where the girl was eating breakfast.

Sky looked up as he entered, an adorable display of surprise crossing her features and for just second he forgot how to walk and just watched. Despite the logic disputing it, he wanted to pinpoint little pieces of Sarah in the young teen, but instead just smiled.

“Sky, this is Harry, my husband. You remember I told you about him, and how he was missing—”

“—in action.”

The journalist nodded. “Well he's not anymore.”

Standing, she approached the man, her mum's trust preventing any hesitancy that might have otherwise formed. “You're Harry?” He nodded, somehow dumbstruck. “I'm glad you came back.”

Once again, Harry nodded his head, searching for his voice. “Me too.”

“So are you my dad?”

He broke into a grin, having long since believed no one would ever call him that. “Only if you want me to be, but let's get to know each other first.”

“I'd like that.”

“Me too. You are so bubbly and beautiful, Sky.”

She grinned at the compliment. “Thanks.” Returning to her breakfast, she took another mouthful of cereal, watching him watch her. “Well, sit down.”

The simple touch of Sarah's hand in his hair, coaxing him forwards, drew his attention back to her to see her broad grin. “I'll make you some breakfast.” Then, as she walked away, she patted Sky's shoulder, stooping to her level. “Go easy on him, okay?” The girl nodded eagerly and was soon babbling away to her new father. Months later Sarah would tell him how for the first few minutes she wasn't preparing food at all, but just listening to them talk, forming the foundations of a bond that would last the rest of their lives.


“Hello, boy.” Harry grinned as K9 trundled towards him.


“Miss me?”


He laughed. “Good dog.” Crouching down, he wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him close and whisper to him. “And good dog for looking after Sarah Jane, thank you.”

K9 lifted his head. “I will always protect Mistress. It is my duty.”

“Shh, K9!” Harry hurriedly hushed him, lightly tapping his side.

Sarah Jane stood fondly watching him, a smile on her face. “It’s okay, I know. I’ve known for years.” She’d missed it the first few times, but a couple of years after she’d received K9, she caught Harry knelt down beside the dog and whispering to him. He was just about to leave, for an assignment with UNIT the other side of the country, and even though it was a dangerous trip, one she feared he wouldn’t make it back alive from, he was telling K9 to look after her. It was something she took to spying on when he had to leave, and every time, when he asked for her protection until he returned, she stored it in her heart to stop her worrying about his welfare in his absence. It had worked almost perfectly until she was told they’d lost contact and he was missing in action. That night she’d cried her heart out, sobbing for hours, and not even K9’s reminder of his promise to return helped, not for a few weeks anyway. “Thank you.”

He smiled as he looked up at her. “You’re so important. Especially to me.”


Harry watched from the doorway with glee as Sarah greeted her son, hugging him and excitedly pulling him up to the house to introduce them to each other. Smiling at the sheer wonder on her husband's face as he looked at Luke, she wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, kissing both their cheeks. Taking in the sight of them both for just a few seconds more, she then left them be, easing the pressure she knew Harry felt by leaving them alone; Luke would soon have him at ease.

“It's great to meet you.”

Harry nodded. “I'm really glad I got the chance to meet you too.”

“Mum has told me a lot about you.”

“She has?”

Luke nodded. It was strange that despite having just met him he felt like he knew him well, but that was what came from having a mum who loved him the way she did, and he remembered every story she'd told him. “She's very proud of you. Talked about you a lot, sometimes more often than she realised.”

The older man smiled. “She's so proud of you too. She's been talking to me about you this morning, how intelligent you are, brave, kind, loyal, strong. She talked about you saving the world, over and over, and going to university early. It sounds to me like there's a lot of her in you; I think she's right to be so proud.”

“Well she's an incredible mum.”

“I always knew she would be. And I'm sure you must be protective of her, I understand that feeling, I love her too.” He leant forward a little, looking him in the eye. “Luke, you don’t have to let me be your dad just because I love your mum and she loves me. In fact I think I’d feel rather sad if that was the only reason you let me. Honestly it would be wonderful just to be your friend, but I ask that you give me a chance, I would really, really love to be your dad, yours and Sky's.”

“Of course I will.”

During the hours that followed, Luke watched as Harry paused to look over them all, watched him smile and joke, the laughter doing his whole body good. He saw the man gazing at his mother, and the joyful surprise that crossed his features every time she sought out hugs and kisses from him. He caught the awe on his face whilst listening to every word Sky said to him, and the way he closed his eyes when the girl hugged him. Everything he saw told him that this man was finally where he belonged, with them.

“Thank you for coming home to her.”

Harry shook his head, smile slightly lopsided. “She is so welcome. It was my pleasure. It's worth everything.” Turning his head, he caught Luke's gaze and held it. “I hope you understand that I never chose or wanted to leave her, that wasn't my choice. I never wanted to upset her or cause her pain, I didn't mean to, I never would. I love her, I always have.”

“I know.” Rocking in his seat slightly, he bumped their shoulders together. “I know, Dad.”

“Dad? Are you sure?”

The teen smiled. “I knew Mum was my mum in less than a day, I don't need any longer to know you're my dad.”

Wrapping an arm tight around his shoulders, he gave the lad a squeeze. “Thank you, I won't let you down.”

“I know that too.”


Letting himself into the bedroom, Harry took in the sight of his beloved, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, soft skin freshly moisturised, all so normal and routine but to him a beautiful treat to end an incredible day. Sarah had given him everything; home, life, love, and strength were but a few, and she was now adding two breathtaking teenage children to that list. There were still days when he didn't quite understand why she never asked for anything in return.

“Thank you for trusting me with them.”

She smiled, even as she kissed him. “You always were going to be the father of my children. We just sort of went about it the long way. I never doubted you'd be an amazing dad, I'm just sorry it took so long for you to get the chance to prove it, and see that for yourself.”

“Well, you are a wonderful mother, I am so proud of you for that. I love how strong you are.”

Resting her hands in the small of his back, she drew him closer once more. “You're the one who made it home after so long.”

“Because I had you waiting for me.”

She stared for a second, the next her lips were crushed against his, kissing him urgently, her fingers tangled in his shirt. Strong arms wrapped around her back as, pulling her against him, he kissed her in return, forgetting anything existed beyond her, beyond her fingertips caressing the skin at the nape of his neck then cradling his jaw, and her soft lips against his. “Harry.”

Lingering with his forehead touching hers, for a few breaths he stood in silence, palms resting against her back, pressing with just enough force to hold her to him. “You wanna make love?”

Sarah nodded just slightly, beaming at him. “Yes, so much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head up slightly. “I've missed you.” Withdrawing a little to look him in the eye, she ran her fingertips along his jaw. “No pressure; are you sure? After what you've been through, are you ready? I honestly don't mind waiting for you to recover.”

He kissed her in gratitude. “Oh, old girl, I love you so much for that. I am fine, more than fine, let's just take it slow.”

With a nod, she closed her eyes as his lips returned to hers, happily letting him take complete control of the kiss for a minute or two, enjoying his strength and warmth, and all the joys of being truly, genuinely wanted and so deeply loved. Sliding her hands under his shirt, palms against his back, she pushed his shirt out the way until he helped her with it, freeing himself from the garment. Sarah smoothed her hands over his skin and round to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath her fingertips. Taking a step back, her gaze dropped to meet her touch at his abdomen, brow furrowing. “Oh my god, Harry.” His eyes followed hers. “Look at you, those weren't there before.”

After so many years without a mirror to look into, or even a change of clothes, he had forgotten most of the scars he bore, including ones she'd seen before. One hand on her hip, he coaxed her to step to the side and sit on the bed with him, letting her stare. “Go on, touch.”

“What happened to you?” To a certain degree she could see the answer; a bullet wound and a couple of new knife marks told part of the story on their own. “Oh, Harry.” She ran her fingers over the marks again.

“Sarah, I'm okay. It's all healed, I'm okay.”

“But that doesn't make it okay.”

With a fingertip, he tilted her chin up, taking one of her hands in his. “Sarah, I love you; please don't let it...” He touched her palm to his right shoulder. “Please look at them the way you look at this. I got this saving you, and I got them getting back to you.” He placed her hand back onto his stomach, stroking her fingers.

Her brow furrowed more and he kissed the same spot to diffuse the tension. “Harry, I'd never... I'm not repulsed, I couldn't be. You aren't any less attractive for them, maybe more for your strength. It's just a shock, hard to think someone would do that to you, to someone I love so much.” Kissing her forehead again, he curled around her to catch her before the tears in her eyes overflowed. Holding tight, heads rested on each other's shoulders, they sat together for a few silent minutes until her emotions finally calmed. “There's something you need to see too.” Reluctantly, Sarah pulled herself upright, leaning against him for just a couple of seconds more and letting him nuzzle against her.

“I love you.”

She closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch as he kissed the bridge of her nose and then her lips, tender and reassuring, just as she needed. Kissing him back, she undid the top button of her shirt, smiling as he moved her hands out the way to continue unbuttoning himself. Once he pushed the fabric off her shoulders, hands running over the the bare skin it revealed, she pulled back slightly, placing his hands against her stomach. “Harry, look.” Confusion crossed his features as he looked at her. “Here.” She pressed her hands over his, then let go so he would too. So he did so, moving his hands to her back and taking her in.

His brow creased, she lifted her hand to cup his face, stroking his cheek. After so long apart she had expected to worry about ageing, to fear that her body had changed beyond recognition, become weaker and unappealing. Yet when finally he returned, those fears never surfaced with the love radiating from him. Instead, even with new scars of his own, it was the marks that had been inflicted on her skin which had filled her with fear. Despite her head knowing they simply proved her stronger than the attack, her heart hated the sight whenever she looked in the mirror; it seemed her heart needed his to love her scars before it would too; they were the one thing she was nervous about him discovering.

Oh, Sarah.” Sweeping his left thumb over the round marks, he used the other to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. “You are beautiful.”


He nodded. “More so every day.” The absent-minded stroking of her skin reassuring her, she let herself fall back against him, into his arms. “But, you were shot? What happened? Who shot you?”

“Doesn't matter, that's not important right now, they're gone. It's okay, like you said, it all healed, I made it, I'm okay.”

He leant his forehead against her temple, holding her to him as a few unpreventable tears escaped. “You never deserved that. Thank you for surviving.”

Turning her head into him, she grinned, touching the remnants of a cut on his hip. “I couldn't have you come home, after all of this to find I didn't fight too. Every time I thought I was going to die, you kept me going, you and our children.”

“Sarah.” Shifting on the bed slightly, he pressed his forehead to hers, beaming at her as he then feathered kisses over her features. “You are so strong, amazing, intelligent, so so beautiful, every single part of you is beautiful. I love you so much for making it through everything to be here now, for standing up for what's right, for fighting, for mothering, for having faith, for caring, for loving, still always loving me. Oh if you knew... if you knew just what you are—”

“Then I would still be right here. You deserve this as much as me, and I love you.”

Gently he lay her back on the bed, and leaning down, pressed a kiss to each of her scars. “You are beautiful.”
Coming Home to Her
Set sometime not too long after the last episode of The Sarah Jane Adventures.

I've written a few unfinished versions of Harry coming home in the past, and been unable to really settle on quite how I wanted it to unfold. I've mixed and matched some of those scenes, reworked and combined some and added others in an attempt to create the best version I can, I'm pretty happy with the end result.

I hope you enjoy, Happy Holidays!
Set after the events of Dreamland.

“Sarah? Sarah, it’s me, Nat. Can you hear me?”

Her eyelashes fluttered for a second, then she opened her eyes a little, squinting in the dazzling light. “Nat? Where…” She turned her head away from her friend, taking advantage of the fact her eyes were adjusting to the brightness and searching the room.

“You’re in hospital, Sarah.”

“H… Harry…?”

Nat shook her head and frowned, she didn’t want to make Sarah sadder, but the last thing she needed was to be lied to. “I’ve not heard from Harry, I’m sorry.”

That woke her up fully, and she suddenly remembered what had brought her there. “Josh. Oh, Josh. I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t help him, I’m so, so sorry.”

Nat reached out to take her hand. “Sarah, relax. You need to stay calm, you’re very lucky to be alive and you have to let yourself recover. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I tried so hard to look after him.”

“And you did. They said you were still holding him when they found you. You took care of him, he’d be grateful.”

The tears that had been forming in her eyes were now fully flowing and she squeezed her friend’s hand for comfort. “How long have I…? Did I miss his funeral?”

“No, no you haven’t.”

“Good.” She furrowed her brow as she pressed her palm to her forehead. “Oh, my head. Am I going to be alright?”

“Should be. You’ve been out for a couple of days, your brain was a bit starved of oxygen when they got to you, but you should make a full recovery. I’m so glad you’re alive, Sarah.”

“Will I be well enough to attend the funeral? I need to be there.”

“It’s in a few days, I think so.” She covered the back of her friend’s hand with her right one, and leant forward. “You know, his last act was to save your life, Sarah.”

“If he hadn’t brought that stupid gun.”

“No, I mean, they put enough oxygen on board for three of you for the planned journey, or, as it turns out, just enough for one of you to be saved when it went wrong. If he hadn’t died when he did, there wouldn’t have been enough oxygen for you both, neither of you would have survived.”

“Oh, Josh.”

“He was your guardian angel. I think he’d say it was worth it. He really loved us.”

“I’m glad I’ve still got you, Nat.”

“We’ll get through this together, I promise. Get some sleep now, Sarah, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Will you stay?”

She nodded with a gentle, reassuring smile. “Of course.”


Sitting in her hospital bed in the middle of the night, Sarah picked up her phone. Nat had left several hours earlier, heading back to her hotel room nearby for the night, and the time on her own had only served to remind her how very alone she was. For a minute or so, losing track of time, she stared at the picture she had set as her background, unchanged for years, a photo she always found comfort in. Finally, drawing herself away from it, she unlocked her phone and opened her contacts, two seconds later she pressed the device to her ear.

“Hello, this is Harry Sullivan, I can’t get to the phone at the moment, but please leave a message.”

She closed her eyes, so grateful to have lived to hear that voice again. “Hello, Harry. I miss you so much. And I really, really need you to come home now. Everything has gone wrong; I nearly died, and my friend did. I nearly suffocated, Harry, and I, I need you. I'm in hospital, well the medical centre in Area 51 of all places, and if you could get here somehow, I know they'd let you in, to look after me, and to come to the funeral with me, then that would mean more to me than I can say. But I do know chances are that won't, can't happen. Harry, I would give anything to keep you safe, to see you again.” She let the silence draw out far longer than necessary, as if she could pretend she was really talking to him, though in reality she was horribly aware she wasn't. “I love you."

Ending the call, she returned her mobile to the table and reached for her overnight bag and the purse inside. From one side she withdrew a necklace, reading the inscription on the back of the H shaped pendant. 'I love you – Harry'. No matter how silly it might have seemed to others, she had always adored the gift from him; treasuring it and carrying it with her everywhere, except space that was. She hadn't been able to keep much with her and in some small way it felt like keeping him close to her heart.

Fastening the chain around her neck, she eventually relented to the night and lay down under her hospital duvet, wishing she was at home in Ealing. She hadn't even seen it for far too long, having fled as soon as she had first been targeted for fear of losing their home to the assaults that would follow. It had at least protected it, even if she had been left with little to take with her, and even less of sentimental value to provide comfort in the struggles she'd endured since. She hoped that now, as soon as she was discharged, she could return, even if it was to an empty house it was better than the empty flats she had been enduring for years.

In the dark and lonely hospital room she longed for one of those comforting items, one of Harry's jackets being what came to mind; something simple and yet powerful, something she could hug or bury her nose in, or just rest her head on as she slept. Maybe it would feel enough like home to allow her some much needed rest, her body still desperately recovering.

Some time later, imagining returning home to the impossible; him, she finally fell into a shallow and troubled sleep.


Josh's funeral came and went, they mourned and said goodbye, and Sarah thanked him for saving her as they scattered his ashes beside his father. Two days later, though still weak, the hospital cleared her to fly home, and she travelled back to London with Nat, very little said between them, both still a bit in shock, whilst altogether exhausted and opting for sleep.

Once back in their home town, and sure that Nat would get home safely, Sarah headed home, forgoing the latest flat she'd stayed in, and let herself in with a well hidden key. Closing the door, she breathed in the musty air, soaking in the marks of life in the house; an open book left upside down on the coffee table, a jumper on the back of the sofa, personalised mugs on the kitchen counter, photographs everywhere.

She sunk to the ground with her back against the fridge, letting her pent up tears fall. Home.

Some time later she rose from the floor, trudging upstairs to their, her, room. After changing the bedding, she took Harry's blazer from the wardrobe, clutching it to her as she buried herself under the duvet. Finally getting her wish of curling up with something comforting, she tucked the fabric underneath her head. Breathing in his scent, for the first time in weeks, Sarah truly rested.

She slept there for over twenty hours, and would have gone straight back to sleep upon waking if it hadn't been for the ravenous hunger she felt. It had been almost two days since she'd eaten anything more than a snack, but since the house had been empty for years, there was no electricity or water and no edible food, at least nothing you'd want to eat. Begrudgingly, with no other choice, she took a taxi to the flat she had wished to avoid a little longer, swearing to herself, and Harry, that she would be back home for good within a week. At least one of them should be where they belonged.


Four days later Sarah received a phone call from a solicitor, Josh's solicitor, arranging a meeting with her and Nat to discuss his estate and will. Though pointlessly wishing it wasn't a situation she had to face, the date was set for the next week, so she tried to put it out of her mind until then. The unexpected call two days later about Will Sullivan's final wishes, unfortunately had the opposite effect, and with that appointment set the day after Josh's, she closed her eyes and willed the universe to keep her from facing the same thing for someone else for many years, or ever if possible.

With very few people he was close to, Josh had left much of his property to the two women, including that which his father had so recently passed on to him. Though it wasn't much of the fortune, it was still more than generous and as far as Sarah was concerned, a ridiculous amount. The two friends shared a few drinks in his memory that evening, before returning to their apartments alone.

The next morning, Sarah felt sick to her stomach with the impending appointment weighing on her mind. The call had been from her solicitor, the one she and Harry had found together; it wasn't their family's solicitor, so Will would not have filed anything with them, there was no denying that call meant just the kind of reminder she wished to avoid.

Taking Nat along for support, she headed to the solicitor's office, hoping her expectations would help ease the impact when it was proven reality. To a degree it worked, giving her control of the moment that got to her the most, but that was never going to be enough.

“Because Will didn’t have a family, he left everything to Harry, and—”

“Harry left everything to me.”

It was exactly as she suspected, but still it hurt that he could not be there to accept it himself.

She already had more money than she could ever need from her aunt, and through her, her parents, and from Harry's pension being paid out for her; she hadn't needed to work for many years, and yet it was only, really a source of pain. It meant the loss of all her loved ones and it just seemed cruel to once again be forced to trade the life of someone she cared about for larger numbers in her bank account.

Sometimes it felt like all she had was hope that one day it would stop. Some days she lived purely for the hope that one day she might actually be lucky and get just one of them back, the only one that could come back.

At least it was a small comfort to have Nat there with her, and that she at least in part understood. “We can find something to do with the money that would honour them, and for Will’s money, honour Harry too. A charity, a cause.”

“But I don’t want the money.” She fought to hold back all the emotion that was threatening to make her break down. “I just want my friends. And I want the person I love most.”

“I know.” Nat reached out and wrapped her arms around Sarah. “If I could do something to change that for you I would. But I know things are about to get better for you. And for what it's worth, I believe that Harry will come back.”

And he would, eventually.
When he was twenty, Harry was full of hope, eager and expectant. He knew that his soul mate was out there somewhere, that she was looking for him too and always, gradually getting closer. He had faith in her.

At twenty five he was getting a little worried. He tried to immerse himself in his work, after all he was proud of the good he did, that he saved lives, and mostly it worked. But he would often catch himself musing over his loneliness, he was all too aware that all his friends were married, engaged or otherwise in long term relationships, some even had children. Yet he was single. He was always single and though they meant well with their assurances that his kind heart would soon capture that of a wonderful, beautiful woman, he felt more and more doubtful, and as the hopeless romantic he was, it saddened him. But still he had faith in her.

By his thirtieth birthday Harry had given up. He didn’t think it was so much that he hadn’t found her, but he hadn’t even got close, he’d met many beautiful and interesting women and yet not one had really appealed to him. He thought it was rather pathetic to be thirty years old and to never have even been kissed, and yet despite that, his heart was still insistent that he should only ever kiss a woman out of love for her. It seemed that some little part of him still had faith and that at least satisfied the romantic part of him that remained. He felt cheated; all he’d ever wanted was his soul mate, he wanted someone to spend his life with. Just one person. He had so much love to give her, that he’d been wanting to give her since was twelve and had first seen what love really was, and now he feared she didn’t even exist. The night he turned thirty, he wept, the fear and pain finally getting the better of him, crying for the wasted time and the dreams he’d never get to live, or dream with her, he cried for all the things he’d never get to experience, from the deepest passions of love to the simple act of holding her hand, and most of all he wept for her, terrified he’d lost his faith in her.

That night he hadn’t the slightest inkling that Sarah Jane Smith would walk into his life that year.


The first time he met her he actually thought his heart had stopped, that was until a few seconds later when the normal, even beating resumed and he realised it was its way of saying, ‘That’s her.’ She was busy, bustling around and asking questions, and he didn’t even think she’d looked twice at him until she was leaving, needing to rush off and finish an article. But she was polite and friendly, shaking his hand as she said goodbye, and he’d later admit to smiling to himself as she’d walked away, unaware of the effect she’d had on him. He was left wondering when they would next meet, certain there was so much more to follow.

The next time he saw her he’d been brought in to care for the Doctor, and even in the chaos and panic he had instantly noticed her sat caring for her friend. She looked so worried and he wanted to reach out and comfort her, embrace her and assure her that he would make sure the Time Lord would be alright, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She needed him to be quick and active in helping the poor man and once she saw he was alright then she would relax and perhaps he’d get to see her beautiful smile once more. So he went to work and soon earned said smile when the incidentally perfectly healthy Doctor had tied him up. But all the strangeness and embarrassment and danger hadn’t bothered him, not really, because he got to be with her; he relished every second he got to bond with her, to find out more and show her who he was. Somehow, even though they were in the most ridiculous situation he had ever experienced, he thought it was perfect. He could think of nothing better to bring them together and he would always be grateful for the job that had brought that to them. And of course he was grateful to her for having faith in him, just as he now saw he had never lost faith in her.


“Sarah.” The lieutenant reached out to her, wriggling his fingers in the hope of drawing her attention to him, unsure if she was even looking, but busy tracing his gaze along the odd crack in the ceiling and opposite wall. “You have to move.”

“Would you stop?” She glanced back at him for only a second, slowly continuing on her way through the dank and gloomy cave. “I'm fine.”

“No, I'm not being silly, you need to move now, quick, Sarah. Something is not right about this.”

“Harry, we're walking through caves and tunnels on an alien planet, in shorts, five galaxies away from the beach we were supposed to be on. Do you think anything is right about this?”

“Please listen to me. Just this once, listen. You're not safe.”

Stopping in her tracks, Sarah turned to face him. “What?” She narrowed her eyes at him, he was looking everywhere but at her and that didn't exactly persuade her there was any need to change her direction or speed.

“I think this is a trap. Come here.” He pushed his hand further towards her. “Be careful and come here. Please trust me.”

“It's not about trust, I can look after myself just fine. Would you look at me when you talk to me?” His gaze shot round to the right, even further away from her. “Harry, are you even listening to me?”

Still silent, he tilted his head to the side, listening intently but to their surroundings rather than her, his instincts making him heighten his senses. He thought he heard a metallic click, then there was a thump. Harry sprung forward, wrapping his right arm around her waist and pulling her with him. The swinging blade passed through the spot where Sarah had been stood, slicing into his shoulder; he groaned, bracing himself against the wall to avoid crushing her.

“Oh God... Harry.” Lifting her hands to his shoulder, she pulled the material of his shirt apart a little more to keep it out of the wound.

He growled through his teeth slightly, waiting for the pain to numb, yearning for the burning to dull just slightly. “It had to be a movie style booby trap.”

“I'm so sorry.” Still pressed between him and the wall, she made no attempt to move him, instead placing her hands on his sides to alleviate some of the strain on his muscles.

“It's okay. I know.” He took a second to control his breathing a little more. “I was just trying to protect you.”

“You did.” She brought her left hand up to his face, helping him to concentrate on her and ensure he was still with her, keeping awake. “Thank you for saving me. I do trust you.”

Squinting to focus, he found her looking into his eyes and suddenly realised how close they were. “Just give me a minute.”

She nodded, keeping her gaze on his as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. “I've got you.” Digging her heels into the ground, she wrapped her arms around his middle, pushing against him to take his weight. “Let me patch you up.”

The next morning as he lay recovering in bed, safely in the TARDIS with Sarah looking after him, he dared to imagine that one day she would trace her fingers over the white scar the wound would leave, or even press a kiss to that mark on his skin and whisper how much she loved him. Really he knew he wasn't that lucky, he was just delirious from the painkillers, but he had his reward in her still stood before him, still breathing, and was content to simply make the most of the time he did get with her.


After one particularly stressful trip spent fighting for their lives and separated by time, with Harry facing a werewolf, an Arthurian man, tree spirits, Morgan le Fay, and another Doctor, and Sarah finding his grave in the snow, she had hardly let him out of her sight. He wondered if she felt guilty, as if stepping back inside the TARDIS, leaving him alone for one minute, had meant it was her fault that the ship had inexplicably jumped forward through time. It wasn't and he yearned to reassure her that he had never thought so; she had found him, they were safe, that was all that mattered. With gentle, patient reassurance, he had managed to convince her to let him leave the room, five minutes to get refreshments from the kitchen, he hoped a treat would help her relax.

There he had found the Doctor, who had immediately urged him to go and be with her, not just so they could look after each other. His profession had certainly helped with that, given the harsh conditions she'd been in, and he was glad she trusted him enough that he could take care of her emotional and mental welfare too.

Despite his assurances that Sarah was alright, and the pair would always take care of each other, the Time Lord was persistent. Normally Harry would have dismissed it as silly, nothing more than unnecessary paranoia, fuelled by the care and responsibility he felt for her, and a little guilt. But that thought was cut short as the Doctor urged him to ask her just what she did to find him. He fell silent, nodded and made sure that was the first thing he said to her when he returned to her.


“You nearly froze to death for me?!” Harry's jaw dropped just a little, eyebrows drawing together. “Sarah, I—”

“I had to.” The memory caused her brow to furrow as she looked down. “I had to know. I had to prove that I'd find you. I couldn't leave you.”

“Sarah.” He tenderly tilted her chin up with the touch of a finger so he could look her in the eye. She didn't just tolerate him, he didn't annoy her; she loved him. “Thank you.” Soft lips pressed against hers with a single tender caress. Then, as they parted, he sat back just slightly, leaning towards her with a broad smile on his face. “That was my first kiss.” For a few seconds he simply held her gaze. “To say thank you. Goodnight, Sarah.”

As he rose from his seat, she placed her hand on his arm. “Harry. Stay? For a bit?” She looked up at him with hope, and the awe in her eyes touched his soul. Without looking away, he rejoined her on the sofa, watching with curiosity. “That was my first kiss too.”

He closed his eyes. “Sarah—”

Harry!” She smiled as he stopped withdrawing and just stared at her. They had been to the future but she couldn’t see theirs, and even if nothing ever became of it, she was infinitely glad it was him. Glad that it was so simple and pure and perfect, and that it was out of complete and utter love for each other. “Thank you for making it so special.” Assured, his lips gradually curled into a soft smile, and before he could say anything in response she’d pressed herself into his chest, arms wrapping around him as he embraced her.

“Sarah…” She looked up at him, keeping her head resting over his heart. Harry beamed in response, cupping her cheek and kissing her forehead, and when she burrowed back into him he felt sure that she wouldn’t let him go for hours.

He really didn't mind.


When the Doctor had left her far from Croydon with just the change in her pocket and no way home, it was Harry she called. There were cracks in her voice, but relief began to seep in too once she found him free to help her. The fact he was more than willing even coaxed a small smile from her worry stricken features.

“I’m on my way, Sarah. Read a book, find a café, just try and relax, I’ll be with you as soon as I can. Just stay somewhere in the centre so I can find you.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He grinned, hoping she would hear it in his voice. “You’re welcome, old girl. See you soon.”

Travelling there by train had taken far longer than he wished when he had no way of contacting her until he arrived. Once there though, it hadn't taken long to find her, sat in the window of a café that would soon be closing, watching the sunset with her chin rested on her palm. He noticed her solemn expression lift as he came into view, and couldn't resist smiling back as she stood.

“Sarah, old thing, come here.” Harry wrapped his arms tightly around her to envelop her in his embrace. “Hello.”


“Are you alright?”

She nodded, although he was entirely unconvinced. “Thank you for coming. I was worried you’d be on a mission.”

“No. But if I was I would have dropped everything. You’re far more important.”

After they'd shared a long embrace, with Harry whispering words of assurance, Sarah Jane was adamant that they didn't stay the night but head straight back to London instead. Though that wouldn't have been his choice, he bought them both tickets for an overnight train, careful to keep her from worrying about the price when he wasn't. By the time they were settling down in their cabin, her worries had calmed leaving exhaustion to take over. In the peaceful solitude, comforted by his arm around her, she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.


The first time he left for a mission after her return was hard on them both. He had taken several weeks off work just to spend them with her, but eventually he had been needed. Harry did far too much good for the world for her to ask him to stay, but despite her better judgement, knowing he was about to leave felt agonisingly like being abandoned once more.

All too aware what the crease in her brow meant, the lieutenant pulled Sarah to him, folding her in his arms and purposefully cradling her head against him. As her eyes began to water, he assured her it was safe and that he'd tell her all about it on his return, rocking her in his embrace to combat the tears.

The subsequent promise to come home, accompanied by a soft kiss to her forehead, soothed her enough to let go. He was worth the fear and the worry, and the pain she was terrified would follow if one day he couldn't return. She could deal with that uncertainty, with waiting forever if she had to, for him.


The second time he kissed her was exactly what she'd come to expect from him; soft and sweet and pure love.

She kissed him too, tender and purposeful, smiling at the way his eyes stayed closed for a second or two after they parted, lips curling uncontrollably upwards.

“Sarah.” Cupping her cheek, he drew her closer again so their foreheads touched.

She leant into his palm, grinning even wider. “Yes, Harry?”

Softly caressing her skin, he withdrew just slightly, making sure to look into her eyes as he spoke. “Sarah, old thing, beautiful, incredible, amazing, Sarah, I am so in love with you.”

The words leaving her speechless, despite already knowing, she gently pulled his hand away from her face and into her lap, enclosing it in her own. She tenderly ran her thumbs over his skin, stroking his fingers as she savoured the moment, relishing every feeling as she committed them to memory. When he opened his mouth, seemingly to doubt himself and even his beautiful choice of words, she cut in first to keep those thoughts at bay. “Harry!” His mouth closed and just a touch of confusion crossed his features. “Harry, I love you too.” She took his face in her hands to make sure he took her words to heart, knew what he and his love meant to her, and how fond she'd become of the nickname, with its affectionate meaning far from the face value. “I know, and I love you so much.”

Harry clutched her to him, pressing his face into her shoulder as he hugged her, broad grin still spread across his face. She wrapped her arms around him in return, cradling his head against her as she happily waited until he was ready to let her go.


They swiftly formed a routine for whenever Harry returned from an assignment, a way to celebrate his safe homecoming, providing comfort and reassurance after being parted. He took to going straight to her once back in London, not caring for his flat, and sweeping her into his embrace, strong arms enveloping her. She always welcomed the way he crushed her against him, and rested her head over his heart in response, homing in on the soothing even beat as relief flooded through her.

In the evening they'd dine out at their favourite restaurant, his treat, taking pleasure in dressing up for each other, so much so that Harry had soon come to keep a collection of clothes in her flat to remove any need to leave on such days. Later, returning to one of their apartments, they'd have a hot drink, cuddle up under a blanket, talk and just relax with sheer relief at being in each other's presence once more. Inevitably they'd fall asleep on the sofa, and often when he woke in the middle of the night Harry would tuck her into bed, whoever's bed it was, but some mornings she would wake still wrapped in his arms. Those were her favourites.

It was meant to get easier, that was what they'd heard, but had come to realise the opposite. The more he went away, the more probability was against him, and he didn't think he could stand it any longer. The Navy, UNIT, MI5, NATO, they could all easily replace him; Sarah couldn't. He didn't want to be one of those people that never came home; missing in action and leaving his beloved forever wondering if she'd ever see him again, if the worst had happened, where he was, if she could find him if she just looked in the right place, what happened to him, how it had happened, if it had been painless or if he'd known it was coming.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side, her sidekick, he wouldn't actively pass up his chance at that. Nor did he want to put the woman he loved through that pain, she deserved better.



As she looked up at him, he gently held her face in both hands, kissing her forehead. “No more missions.”


He smiled. “That's it. Last one. No more missions.”

“Harry, I'd never ask you to give it up.”

“You didn't, and I know.” He ran his fingers through her hair, drawing it back from her face. “I can't do it anymore. I need to be here with you. I love you, and I don't want to give up my life with you. You're the most important thing in my life, old thing.”

“But what would you do?”

“Transfer. I'm still a doctor, I could work in a lab, research. I can still help people from there. And I could help you proofread your articles, and your book if you ever get round to it.”

She beamed at him, cupping his cheek to press her lips to his. He didn't ask for honour or glory, for medals or recognition for anything he did, all he wanted was her, provided she felt the same, and she felt honoured to give him that, to be enough reward for this brave, loyal and caring man. “I am so proud of you.”

“That's all I need.”

Wrapping her arms around his middle, she pressed herself back against his chest so he'd hold her tight again. “I love you. Thank you for making it home safe.”


The day he proposed was the most nerve-racking of his life. It wasn’t that he doubted she loved him as much as he did her, nor did he think that she wanted to leave him, but she had never expressed any particular desire to marry. Neither, he reminded himself, had she said she didn’t want to, and he was sure she knew how he felt; they had shared their dreams and all his life he had been seeking a family based on love not just blood, where they chose each other. He longed to make that official, to be bound in everyone’s eyes, the danger in his former line of work a reminder of all the benefits it gave them too, for the good and bad things in life. But she was his family regardless.

His heart pounded as he gazed at her, and before he even opened his mouth Sarah gently placed her hand on his chest, feeling the furious beating beneath her touch. “Relax.”

Suddenly it wasn't nerve-racking at all; this wonderful woman loved him, she wanted forever too, and there was no way that wouldn't make him smile. “Sarah—”

“Just relax, you have nothing to fear.”

The way she read him and knew all, yet only showed an abundance of care and patience made his grin widen. His heart now calm and overflowing with love for her, he proceeded to speak.


In the warm afternoon sun, the young couple sat curled up together on a bench that overlooked the garden, enjoying the solitude away from the small group of people they could hear just out of sight. Harry wrapped his arm more firmly around her shoulders to shield her from the breeze, kissing her temple as she leant further into his embrace, gazing up at him. “You look so very handsome, just gorgeous.”

Beaming, he carefully threaded his fingers through her hair, brushing them against the blue and white flowers in her soft curls. Just the sight of her left him speechless and a little breathless, in fact that was exactly how he'd felt when he'd first set eyes on her earlier that day. “Oh but look at you; you are beautiful. I love you, Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Mrs. Sullivan?” Sarah raised her eyebrow at him, but kept her arm firmly around his middle, nestled against him. “Now I’m definitely Sarah Jane Smith, but I suppose Mrs. Sullivan has a certain ring to it too.”

“You could put up with it, could you?”

“Perhaps.” She beamed. “Or maybe I should call you Mr. Smith.”

Cupping her cheek, he pressed his lips to hers. “I don’t mind either way, as long as I can call you my wife.”

She smiled, unable to take her eyes off him. “As I am very very proud to be your wife; how about both?”


To his joy, later that year, the dedication for her first book read:

Doctor, Lieutenant, Agent.
Hero, Best Friend, Husband.

Without you I wouldn't be here.
I love you.
Set between A Good Day to Die and We Are Robin Hood.

Will ducked under the low beam of the doorway, following after his beloved best friend who had snuck through there a few minutes before. It was a small storage chamber on the ship to the Holy Land, and she'd crept past the dislodged supplies to perch on a chest in the corner, staring at the wooden wall ahead of her. Concerned, he crossed the room and sat beside her, claiming the place she had once promised would always be his, bundled up under blankets together one cold winter night as she fought desperately to recover from the wound that had almost killed her. Their ever-growing love already strong, they'd filled their days with laughter and tender caresses, shared secrets and smiles, pressing soft kisses to cheeks and foreheads, and enjoying the casual intimacy that came easily to them; no confessions needed with a million words to express their affection and devotion. He had promised her his life, and she too had sworn hers to the man who saved her life and asked for nothing, but was already her everything.

"Are you alright, my love?" He reached out to gently sweep his fingers through Djaq's hair, hand drifting down to her back as she finally met his gaze.

She leant into him with a slight smile. "Yeah, I just feel a bit... wary. A little..."

"Because the last time you were on a ship like this you were a captive waiting to be sold into slavery." She nodded. "At least this time you’re going home."

Her smile grew as she held his gaze. "I'm home as long as I'm with you."

Beaming back, Will curled his finger under her chin to draw her into a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you."

Watching her, he began to play with the strands of her hair, caressing her with every stroke. "How about you get some sleep? It's been a tough few days and we all need some rest."

She beamed knowingly at him and lifted her hand to cradle his jaw. "Then you get some too."

"I will." He nodded. "And I'll stay by your side. Just remember I'm here."

Her smile was unfaltering as she pressed her lips to his once more. "I know. And I am so grateful. If you weren't here I wouldn't feel safe or comfortable but I do, and I feel completely loved." She let out a slight laugh as she leant closer. "So relax, habibi, come and get some sleep with me." Taking his hands in hers, she began to lead him back to their makeshift quarters next door, made to make the long journey to the Holy Land as comfortable as possible.

"Djaq?" Tugging on her hand, he coaxed her to stop and turn back to him.

She smiled. "Yeah?"

"Are you going to want to stay?"

Pulling him close again, she looked up into his eyes. "I don't know. I don't know if there'll be any reason to stay; if the people I know are still alive, if we could be safe. But I do know that you are my soul mate, Will; I love you and I need you. If there's a reason to stay, I promise that we will make that decision together."

There was no denying that she knew he'd follow her anywhere, but he was grateful for the gesture to remind him they were equal, that her love was pure and true.

"Thank you." Cupping her face in his hands, he beamed down at her. "I love you."

Tugging at the sides of his shirt, she drew him closer to treat him to a soft, lingering kiss. "I love you more than anything. Thank you for everything you are."

Still grinning, he curled an arm around her shoulders to kiss her temple in gratitude.

"Come on." Djaq closed her eyes and leant into him anyway, ignoring her exhaustion for just a little longer. "Come and curl up with me. Let's get some sleep."
  1. How long have you been on DeviantArt?
    Too long, which is apparently 7 years.

  2. What does your username mean?
    It's the username I have for everything, I created it a long long time ago, when I first needed a username. It doesn't mean anything in particular.

  3. Describe yourself in three words.
    Tries and fails ?
    Not good enough ?

    I hate these things. Honestly you don't want me to start describing myself.

  4. Are you left or right handed?

  5. What was your first deviation?
    Apparently this: 
    Rainbow Flower by Abboz
    And not much has changed since.

  6. What is your favourite type of art to create?
    I suppose it's writing fiction. I certainly do more of that because I find the other things I'd like to be able to do so frustrating. Or perhaps photography, I at least find getting a decent shot far far easier than drawing/painting a decent picture. 

  7. If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be?
    Anything? I would just like to be able to draw what I see in my head (obviously with the certain degree of differentiation) preferably without using 50 references for a pose that then doesn't even look like that it was meant to. I'd like to be able to actually do likenesses, to do something with skill, something worthwhile.

  8. What was your first favourite?
    Namesakes by muggle-struggle

  9. What type of art do you tend to favourite the most?
    I haven't favourited much for a while, but it's almost always fan art, which tends to be digital painting of varying degrees of realism, from realistic to cartoon.

  10. Who is your all-time favourite deviant artist?
    I couldn't choose to be honest, there's no single person whose art I specifically look forward to (actually in trying to answer this question I found that most people I watch on deviantART aren't really active any longer - somehow even less active than me!) But the most active is a wonderful artist who is a fan of at least a couple of things I am, making great art for them:
    Victoria Waterfield by mustamirri Clementine by mustamirri

  11. If you could meet anyone on DeviantArt in person, who would it be?
    Pass? I'm not currently in contact with anyone through deviantART.

  12. How has a fellow deviant impacted your life?
    Honestly being on this site has had a lot less of an impact than I expected or hoped. Nothing particularly good comes to mind and sadly I have found myself kind of lost in the masses and not interacting with people.

  13. What are your preferred tools to create art?
    For writing, the obvious: MS Word and a keyboard.
    For other art I mostly use my Wacom Bamboo tablet and Photoshop (I don't recall doing any traditional art for a long time, though I wish I could, I just require too many undos/redos.)

  14. What is the most inspirational place for you to create art?
    I don't have anywhere in particular, the closest thing to a particular place is somewhere watching a show (or more specifically characters) I love; they are all that inspires me to create things, at least I want to create things for them.

  15. What is your favourite DeviantArt memory?
    Nothing springs to mind unfortunately. Perhaps when people surprised me by making me things, that used to be amazing.

  • Mood: Artistic


Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United Kingdom

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therandomgal800 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday! Hug 
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Aww thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to message me.
therandomgal800 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Anytime. :)
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
What was it that you added me to your watch list for? I know I've been really bad lately at posting things, but I have reasons and I am sorry. 
(1 Reply)
Laurenthebumblebee Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Student General Artist
Happy Birthday Abi :)
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Aww, thanks! :hug:
TehAngelsCry Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Professional Interface Designer
Happy Birthday Abi! 
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you very much!
CarryPhoenix Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday!
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much! :hug:
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