THE LONG WAY HOME, PART TEN

"Good evening," the maitre d’ said. "Reservations?"

"Jackson," Sarah said. "Party of four."

"Yes, I see you recorded here. I have a message for you. Your mother called--they’re running a little late, but to go ahead and get a seat."

"Very well, we’ll wait," Sarah said. The maitre d’ led the way to the table, with Paul following along pushing Sarah’s wheelchair himself. Sarah noted with some amusement Paul’s feeling of being a little lost not handling the arrangements for things himself and being reduced to servant class for the moment. With Sarah situated at the table, Paul sat down, took a sip from his water glass.

"Can I speak now?" Paul asked.

"You may," Sarah said, with a mockingly dour tone.

"You still haven’t told me what to expect. Are they normally late?"

"My dad is terribly disorganized. He’s a very bright man, but his head is always in the clouds. Mum is down here on Earth waiting for him with a rolling pin, so perhaps that is the way he chooses to be."

"Match made in Heaven, surely!"

"Not how I’d characterize it, but whatever it is, it’s worked for them for thirty-six years."

Paul sat expectantly. "Well," he asked, "what else do I need to know?"

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but then paused. "No," she said. "Relax, I’ll explain it to you up here," and she pointed to his head. Paul seemed a little surprised, but assented. He closed his eyes.

"My dad, Albert, has been teaching philosophy and poetry for many years. He’s a bit of a bore if you don’t share his enthusiasm for his pet subjects, but he’s very knowledgeable. He speaks at a number of conferences across the continent, and is away a great deal during the summers. My mum’s name is Loretta. She’s head of the Norbridge Ladies’ Literary Club, is active on the social circuit, and is very opinionated. My older brother David left home to get away from her. Jane, my older sister, died in a car accident before I was born. Mum’s always been very protective of me--I think that’s probably why."

"Is that them?" Paul pointed to a gray-haired woman brow-beating the maitre d’ over some slight, and a balding man with glasses trying to steer her to her seat. Sarah waved to them.

Paul heard in his head the following admonition. "Keep your mouth shut about aliens and marriage proposals. I’ll be the one to tell them, and when I think the time is right." He nodded.

The introductions went well. Paul was deferential and charming, and when Loretta Jackson began talking about how her daughter had spent entirely too much time working at the Junior Gazette, Paul noted he’d regretted spending so much of his own youth working. He mentioned reading Pride and Prejudice, and he and Loretta engaged in a lively discussion of Jane Austen as they waited for dinner to arrive. She had felt some tension about her father’s attempt to confuse Paul by choosing a restaurant that specialized in foreign dishes with foreign names--trick the poor American time, she thought. Paul hadn’t blinked when Albert ordered an elaborately named tongue-twister of a French dish from the Pakistani waiter. Albert smiled at Paul, and waited to see what Paul would do. Paul turned to the waiter and asked him for his own advice--in the waiter’s native tongue, Urdu. The waiter had a good laugh over this, as did Albert. When the food arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson began eating. Sarah wasn’t terribly hungry and just picked at her meal, but watched Paul do something that caught her completely off-guard. Paul bowed his head and silently prayed before eating. She hadn’t actually even had dinner with him before to notice this, but seeing it reminded her of something she’d forgotten to tell him.

"Frankly, I’m surprised a man of your intelligence still clings to superstitions," Albert said.

Paul swallowed a mouthful of food and sat back in his chair. "Superstitions, you say?"

"Albert, don’t be rude," Loretta said.

"No, Mrs. Jackson, it’s okay. I’m a soldier by trade. Maybe when you spend your life getting shot at and watching your friends die, you get a different perspective on life and death."

"I would think you see people die all the time for no good reason. Tell me that makes sense in your view of the world."

"My parents were very simple folk who believed very deeply in the old faith. They died when I was four for no good reason, either. It doesn’t make sense if you don’t believe in good and evil. I don’t share their piety, but I do respect what they stood for. I’m in the business of fighting Evil. Maybe that will make up for my shortfalls in other areas."

"I believe very strongly in the peace movement," Loretta said. "I’m frankly surprised to find my daughter dating a soldier, as I was quite under the impression I raised her to believe as I did, just as your parents raised you."

"Mum, don’t do this," Sarah whispered. "He’s not officially a soldier."

"Are you?"

"My commissions are honorary, but I am occasionally called on to assist the military when they need some specialized knowledge."

Mrs. Jackson looked skeptical. "I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of an honorary soldier. From my understanding of them, the military don’t work like universities and give degrees away to anybody they feel obliged to, or wish to curry favor with."

"Correct," Paul said. "Nobody from Scotland Yard ever commissioned Sherlock Holmes as a detective, either. Either way, it doesn’t change the military asking for my help or my granting it."

"Are you a University man yourself?" Mr. Jackson asked. "We had hoped our daughter would be interested in that herself."

"I think Sarah is a very bright young woman who has a great future ahead of her," Paul said. "To that end, you’ve produced something you can be very proud of. I have a doctorate from the University of Minnesota, but that’s a long story. Never been there," Paul said dismissively. "Don’t think I missed anything."

"Missed anything?" Albert said in shocked tones. "The quest for higher learning is the greatest thing a man can strive for. I’ve worked all my life to learn about the world, and yet you dismiss it as of no importance."

"Education is important, but can be gleaned from a number of sources. I think your daughter probably learned more from working as a reporter for Lynda Day than she would learn in an English course taught by some stuffy old don."

Sarah started chuckling at the thought of a professor she’d sat under her first semester whom no one understood and who seemed pained to have to come down from the clouds of meditation to actually teach first year students.

"Sarah, that’s disgraceful," her Mum groused. "Why you persist on tying yourself to that dreadful newspaper is more than I can comprehend. I find it tiresome that you think education is a joke."

"I do not think that," Sarah said, getting annoyed.

"Once upon a time, you were a level-headed young woman who wanted to make something of herself and dedicated herself to succeeding. Now look at you--throwing yourself away at this paper and this gentleman." Mrs. Jackson paused, and added, "He’s a fine young man, but you’re too young to be quitting school and getting seriously involved in a career or a relationship."

"All my life I’ve wanted someone to believe in me," Sarah said. "You two did, once, as long as I did what you liked and thought like you did. I’m getting older. I think my beliefs are allowed to change. Just because you never changed yours in my lifetime doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing--it would do you two a world of good."

"And what do you believe in?" Albert asked patronizingly. "Once, you believed you wanted to go away to university and become a serious journalist."

Sarah smiled. "I believe in myself now. I believe in a universe full of possibilities that I can experience that no classroom in the world will be able to teach me. I believe I’ve found someone who loves me for who I am, and who I care about deeply. If you really want to get really crazy, I believe in Magic."

The Jackson’s looked at each other. "We’re running about the moors and worshipping our crystals, are we?" her father asked.

"Like these? You haven’t noticed these because I haven’t allowed you to." Her parents became aware of the diamonds in her necklace----and the diamond ring she wore. "Where did they come from, Dad? Some sleight of hand on my part? How about that little cat of mine in the hospital, Mum?"

Sarah noted with some displeasure that Paul seemed to mentally block her parents’ comprehension of some of what she said, and seemed extremely annoyed she was trying to push the conversation in this direction. He hadn’t been quick enough to stop her totally, and even if they were a little disoriented, her parents did notice one thing.

"The ring," her Mum said. "Please don’t tell me you’re going to marry him."

"I haven’t given Paul an answer to his proposal. I’m doing so now."

"You’ll do no such thing. Sit down and finish your meal, you silly child. Have you lost your mind completely?" Loretta stared at her daughter in horror.

Sarah’s eyes grew angry. "Do you think I’m silly, Dad?"

"Precipitous and foolish would be more applicable. Silly is such a pedantic word."

Sarah reached across to Paul and took his hand. "Yes, I’ll marry you," she said.

"So you can get shot again, Sarah? Or maybe he’ll just go off on his warmongering and get himself killed and leave us to pick up the pieces of your screwed up life. We did that when you and Raymond--" Loretta was getting warmed up, but Sarah interrupted her.

"I am not here to discuss Raymond," Sarah said flatly. "That is past history."

"Fine, you don’t want to discuss the past? Let’s talk about your future. Do you have a place to live?"

"I own a castle in Scotland," Paul said. "I can buy any house anywhere anyplace anytime. I have enough money to buy all of England if I really wanted to live comfortably. As for dying, I don’t think that’s a problem you have to worry about. If that did happen, or if we divorced, she’s going to be able to care for herself in a fashion that Queen Elizabeth would be comfortable with."

"A slightly hyperbolous statement to be sure," Albert said. "If anyone alive had that much money, that person would be known throughout the world as a celebrity on par with Onassis."

"I’m not in a business where I can allow that much visibility. You wouldn’t know of it if I wasn’t here asking your permission to marry Sarah. Your daughter and I are always going to be a part of each other’s lives. That’s nothing either of us can help, and I can’t tell you why, either."

"You will have to do a lot more than be able to discuss Jane Austen, young man. You will have to tell me what you two are hiding if you ever want my blessing. I assume that there is something more lurking in the shadows than money."

Sarah and Paul looked at each other for a few moments, thoughts passing between them.

"No," Sarah replied. "That would be a violation of the Official Secrets Act. I swore an oath--"

"Bah!" her father said. "You’re sounding like a soldier yourself now. I remember when you and your Mum went protesting down at Greenham Commons...."

"Really?" Paul asked, smelling a chance to drive the conversation far off topic. "You were there?"

"Yeah," Sarah said. "Been a long time since we did that, Mum."

"Stop being impertinent, Albert. She’s not going to tell us, and I for one am not going to sanction a marriage when I am not to be told the reasons why it is occuring." Sarah stared at her Mum as she spoke.

"I think you are doing this much too quickly," her father said. "Take some time and get to know each other first. Get a place, move in together--"

Loretta and Paul both looked like they wanted to silence him. Paul got his words out first. "I respect your daughter far too much to do that. I wish you did."

"Albert," his wife spat, "you are a fool for suggesting such a thing. Mr. Marriner, I disapprove of this union." Loretta said coldly.

"I cannot marry any one else," Sarah said simply. "I will not marry anyone else."

"Twenty-one years old, and you think you know everything. You don’t," her Mum said sharply.

"We get married," Sarah replied, "with or without your permission."

"You will not tell me why you are doing this?"

"Someday I will," Sarah said. "Someday you will be able to understand why. Not now, though--you aren’t willing to listen and you aren’t ready to understand."

"We are ready to do both," her Dad said. "You do not seem to be."

No one said anything at that. The four diners returned to their meals for a time. Sarah felt a little mental tug and cocked her head slightly.

"We have to tell them," Paul mentally said to her. "I don’t want you spending the rest of your years without having your folks around. That’s not right."

"Paul, they’ll freak. What are they going to think of you if they find out you--"

"Let them think whatever they like. It doesn’t change what we’re going to do."

"How do we spring this on them and get them to believe we’re serious?"

"Like this," Paul said. "I’m not supposed to share this little trick, but I think it would be better coming from you." He stared very deeply into Sarah’s eyes and Sarah suddenly understood how Paul could get into other people’s minds.

Loretta and Albert Jackson noticed the two of them looking at each other and the two of them tried to get Sarah’s attention. Neither of them were successful at first until Sarah and Paul suddenly blinked and went back to eating.

"What is going on, you two?" Albert asked.

"We’re going to tell you what you want to know," Sarah said. She reached over to Paul and the two began holding hands. Paul looked at her Dad, and Sarah looked at her Mum. Neither parent was able to shake their gaze or the voices they suddenly heard inside their own heads. When the voices ceased and Paul and Sarah looked away from Albert and Loretta, two very terrified people understood. When Sarah asked permission to marry Paul a second time, Mr. and Mrs. Albert Jackson said ‘yes.’

"Exactly what are the rules in your country for aliens seeking marriage licenses?" Paul asked on the way back to the newsroom from the restaurant.

Sarah couldn’t help laughing a little. "I don’t think we actually have any rules about aliens getting married. I’m sure the tabloids would find it amusing."

"Not to mention any xenophobic ministers in parliament who would want us dissected in a lab someplace," Paul replied. "I say we elope."

"We’re not married, silly! We can’t elope."

"Then we need to exchange vows. Come on."

Paul drove back to the Gazette building and carried Sarah up to the temporary offices of the Junior Gazette. Spike and Lynda were there, showing off Lynda’s new ring to Tiddler. Kevin, Jeff, Sonya, Martin, and Jane were working late and all of them looked up in surprise to see the twosome."

Lynda and the others rushed over to see if Sarah was hurt, but she motioned she was okay. Paul set her down at Julie’s desk and gathered the team together. "Look after her a moment. I have to fetch someone." He left the room, and shortly returned with his two guards, who Lynda sort of guessed were Sophie and Laura in disguise.

"How did it go," Tiddler asked Sarah.

"We’re getting married," Sarah said. "Tonight." Tiddler and Jane squealed. Lynda gave Sarah a hug.

"Married--here? Now?" Spike looked puzzled. "Don’t you need a minister and a license for that?"

"Humans do," Sarah said. Lynda noted a smile on her face as she said that. However nervous she might be about the future, Sarah had made her peace with it. "If you still want us to do a double wedding when you and Spike are ready," she said to Lynda, "let us know. That way my parents will have a wedding ceremony to share in. Right now we can’t wait."

"Kevin, in the mood to take wedding photos tonight?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Well, get the camera, then. I guess you folks are going to be our guests and witnesses for this occasion."

Tiddler frowned. "I guess this is the official word then. You aren’t human?"

Sarah and Paul exchanged glances. Lynda guessed they were discussing what to say.

"No," Sarah said. "But he’s biologically compatible, if he’s telling the truth. I’ll get back to you on that when I find out."

"An alien, Sarah? You ran out of human males who will dump you?" Jane asked.

Sarah grinned. "Maybe humans couldn’t appreciate me properly. I had to step up in class."

"Do we trust him?" Kevin asked. "Kate says he might be trying to take over the world--"

"One female at a time?" Lynda interrupted. "Kate is scared of her own shadow. I have met more aliens than Kate has and I’m well acquainted with--" She paused, seeing a room full of curious faces and realizing she’d never actually explained her meeting with the Doctor to anyone but Spike-- "--Sorry, Official Secrets Act on that one, too. Trust me, this is not story material here. You want to dig up dirt on aliens, find some bad ones like the one that shot Sarah and killed Leslie. I trust these two with my life, even though they scare the crap out of me now and then. Nobody says anything, agreed?"

Everyone did. The group sat down to figure out what exactly an alien wedding should consist of. Sophie and Laura took the bride and groom off to find some wedding attire in the wardrobes of the TARDIS. Tiddler and Jane made confetti from office paper pulled from the wastebaskets. Sonya, Jeff, Lynda, and Spike rehearsed a vocal version of a wedding march that didn’t come out on key or even contain all the notes. When Paul and Sarah returned, Paul was wearing a black tuxedo and Sarah a wedding dress that once belonged to the last Mrs. Marriner. Sarah walked under her own power, though she went slowly and seemed to just barely be keeping her balance. The choir had a difficult time not laughing at how bad they were performing, but nobody minded. Kevin wandered about taking pictures.

When Paul and Sarah got down the aisle of desks, the two of them turned to face their friends. "Do we have any idea what we say now?" Sarah asked.

"Not a clue," Paul laughed, and kissed her. "Let’s wing it."

"I love you, Paul," Sarah said, "and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together."

"Until deaths do us part?" Paul smiled. Sarah smiled back

"Until deaths do us part," she repeated.

"For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health," they said together.

"Then I now pronounce you---" Lynda stopped and thought. "What the hell do I call you?"

"Married," shouted Sophie. "Kiss her for pity’s sake."

"I wouldn’t argue with those two if I were you," Spike said.

"Agreed," Paul said, and kissed his wife under a hail of fake confetti and the light of a single flash bulb.

This page created by Murray Head on the eleventh of June, 1998.