URGENT NOTE: As you may know, the BBC starts shooting the 50th anniversary special this week. If you'd like to see a proper tribute to Sarah Jane in the special, please consider signing the petition at www dot ipetitions dot com / petition/sarah-jane-smith-dr-who-tribute (automatic link removed because we don't want to break any rules) and passing it on to any groups you belong to. If we all pass it on, we can make a difference! Time (ironically) is of the essence! Thanks!

Author's Note:

Well, we're finally back. Sorry it took so long, but this story was a bit of an undertaking!

It's actually the first in a series of interconnected stories. We promise that each will have a well-defined beginning and end, but they'll all fit into an arc that starts when a man shows up on Sarah Jane Smith's doorstep with no memory and ends when … well, you'll just have to find out.

As far as canon, all of these stories mesh with what we've actually seen onscreen in Doctor Who itself, but not necessarily Sarah Jane Adventures.

(OK, everything onscreen in Doctor Who except the Brigadier's history in "Mawdryn Undead", and that's because THOSE writers were fudging dates and hoping nobody would notice.)

Also, if you've come here because we've listed "Tenth Doctor" in the second character pulldown, we should tell you now that he doesn't appear until much later in the series … or does he?

Finally, we've put a lot of work into making sure all the pieces fit together - and believe me, that's quite a job! - so we'd really appreciate your feedback.

Thanks!

January, 1977

Two hours ago, Sarah Jane Smith had stepped down the street, quietly whistling "Daddy Wouldn't Buy Me A Bow Wow", looking for somewhere to go while waiting for the Doctor. Just a few moments before, the TARDIS had dematerialized. A moment later, looking around, she'd realized that once again the Doctor had blown it; this wasn't even South Croydon, let alone Hillview Road.

Part of her hadn't been able believe that he was actually gone. Even though he had told her he was leaving her to go back to Gallifrey, she'd never really believed he would go. Even though he'd instructed her about to whom to give his regards, she'd been sure he'd be back very soon, long before she could deliver them. Even though he hadn't said he'd be right back, she'd been sure he would.

Carrying a small suitcase, a potted geranium and a few other personal items, she'd kept expecting him to call her back. She'd walked down the street glancing over her shoulder every few minutes, expecting him to reappear at any moment.

But he hadn't. Instead there had been just an empty void where a few moments before, the only place she had ever felt at home had stood. 'That's it?' she'd asked herself. 'All those years, and now suddenly nothing?' He'd be back, she'd thought. He wouldn't, couldn't do this to her.

After almost two hours of sitting on a curb waiting, she'd walked to the nearest phone and placed a collect call to the Brigadier. Now she sat in a local Scottish pub sipping a soda while she waited for Sargent Benton.

It all seemed so surreal. One minute she was in the center of the universe, the next, dumped in Aberdeen. She sighed, reminding herself that he'd be back soon, and she could tease him about it then.

Three months later, Sarah Jane Smith was sitting on her back porch with her arms wrapped around her legs, looking up at the sky. The sky was clear and the stars were beginning to fill the night. As they started to appear, one by one, the twinkling beacons seemed to call to her.

In her mind, a deep voice was saying, 'Till we meet again, Sarah.' How she longed to hear that voice again. But he had yet to return for her, and she wondered where he was at that moment.

When they'd said goodbye, she had been so sure it was all a bad dream, or some silly mistake, and he would come right back for her. After all, she was his best friend, and as for him, well, he was life itself to her. They had been together for years; why would he just abandon her?

What if she had done something wrong and didn't realize it? Was it that silly fight? No, they had those all the time; they both knew it was all in fun.

She closed her eyes for a moment and like a child, she wished and prayed at the same time. "Oh, please come back for me. I don't belong here, I belong with you." A little tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. "I don't fit in here. This isn't my home anymore."

When she could no longer keep her eyes open, she stood up, walked into the house and went upstairs to bed to cry herself to sleep. She didn't bother to change her clothes. Instead she just lay across the bed and silently cried.

The next morning was the same as any other since she had returned. The sun always rose in the east, always orange, always just the one. Nothing chasing her, no alien plots to foil, no galactic catastrophes threatening life as she knew it. It was like being stuck in a time loop, one day just like the last, and just like the next.

But today, she was going to change all that.

It had taken some doing, but she'd convinced the Brigadier to let her write "Fighting for Humankind: a History of UNIT", on the condition that she understood that the book might be censored later. That was fine with her; this way she could write about everything, including the exciting pieces she really wanted to write about, without the Brig thinking she'd lost her touch - or perhaps her sanity.

And today was her first day working on it.

To start off her research, she'd invited Harry over to breakfast. She'd told him it was because he'd been working for UNIT since long before he'd ever even met the Doctor, but really, it was because it was good to talk to someone who understood what it was that she was missing. He was the only person she knew who had traveled with the Doctor, and talking to Harry made her feel closer to him, too. Of course she never let on about how hurt she was, or how much she missed him. That was something she kept to herself.

Finally, she leaned over and shut off her recorder. "Thank you so much Harry, that's enough for one day. It'll be such a great help to me with the book."

"Glad to be of service, my dear Sarah Jane," Harry smiled at her, and munched on a Jammie Dodger. "Thanks for remembering these are my favorites, old girl."

Sarah gave him a stern look. "Harry I'm so happy about all the information you just gave me, I'm not even going to scold you. But please, no old girl or old thing anymore, alright?"

Harry laughed. "Sorry old gi...," he stopped short. "I say, force of habit you know, hard to break. I promise though, I will try to remember." He chewed a bit. "You know, you look tired, Sarah Jane, and much too thin. Should I be concerned about you?"

Sarah smiled and patted his hand. "No, Harry, just still adjusting to living back on earth, eating the food here again, and the changes in time. I expect my body will get used to it sooner or later."

"Well then, I'm afraid I have to brave the rain and get back to work. However, I will be checking back in on you now that you're settling into a normal routine."

"Thanks, Harry. It's always good to have friends around," said Sarah as she stood up. "Come along then, I'll see you to the door like a proper hostess, Doctor Sullivan." She gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek, then opened the door for him.

Sprawled on her front stairs lay a man, his body twisted as though he'd slipped and fallen in the pouring rain, blood gushing from his head and running down the steps towards the street in a scarlet river.

"Oh my heavens," exclaimed Sarah. "Harry, we've got to help him!"

Harry knelt down and listened to his chest. "He's still breathing. Sarah Jane, go get an umbrella and some towels."

Sarah ran back into the house and came back out with the towels and an umbrella as quickly as she could. "How is he, Harry?" She looked at all the blood on her steps and knew it couldn't be good.

Harry had run out to his car to grab his medical bag and was listening to his chest. "Ah, wonderful," he said, eying the umbrella. "It's raining so hard I couldn't even check his pupils." With Sarah holding the umbrella over them, he leaned over and flashed a light in the man's eyes. "Pulse is strong, eyes aren't dilated, so that's good. Do you know this fellow?"

Sarah gave him a long hard look. He looked to be in his late thirties, early forties, fairly attractive, even with his short brown hair plastered down with rain and blood. She shook her head. "No, I've never seen him before."

The man groaned and started reaching out as though trying to grab something.

"Can you hear me old chap?" Harry asked him.

The man groaned again. "My head..."

"Try not to move," Harry said, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "I'm a doctor and I'm here to help you. Now then, can you tell me your name?"

"Doctor ... You're a doctor?" The man looked up at him as though trying to get his eyes to focus.

"Just lie still and try to keep calm," Harry said, trying again to take his vitals. "You've had a bad blow to your head. Do you know your name, or where you are?"

"Course," he mumbled. "I'm ... " He seemed to be concentrating. "Um ... can't seem to ... " He stifled a groan. "Tip ... my tongue." His eyes closed and he seemed to lapse back into unconsciousness.

Harry checked his pupils again and he moaned.

"Looks like he might have fallen on your steps and hit his head. Sarah Jane, go call an ambulance, we'll need to get him to hospital, and I don't want to move him without at least a cervical collar, just in case."

"NO," the man said, almost forcefully. "No hospital..." But then he was out again, and quiet.

"This is going to need more attention than I can give him here," said Harry. "I'll do what I can to stop the bleeding." While Sarah ran to call the ambulance, Harry pulled a bandage out of his medical bag and applied pressure to the gash with one hand, holding the umbrella over the man with the other and trying to piece together what had happened. The gash was on the top of the man's head, so he'd probably arrived with it.

He wondered just what kind of trouble had found Sarah Jane this time.