Author's Note: This is weird and random, but I for some reason had this image of Sarah Jane working on Bessie in my head while watching The Three Doctors (doesn't even have SJS in it :S) and decided I'd write something about it to post before I go away (Wednesday-Friday) so I would feel less guilty for not UDing Reposition.

Disclaimer: I dinnae own Doctor Who. Never have, never will [in all likelihood].

PS. Why Sarah doesn't open the garage with the sonic lipstick escapes me…


Once a week, every week, no matter the weather, while Luke and the others were at school, Sarah-Jane Smith would go do something highly secretive, something she would not tell anyone, not yet. She grabbed a set of overalls from her drawers, Clyde would tease her endlessly if he ever found out about them, and that was something she could not be bothered with. Sometimes, that boy did get a little tiresome, but she wouldn't trade in their friendship for anything.

"Hello, John," She greeted a man sitting at the desk. He looked up. "I can't say I'm not surprised to see you here."

"I took over from the Corporal after he went back on duty. After all, I'm just an old retired Major General. Nobody really gives a damn what I'm doing anymore. I do keep an eye on that bloody Torchwood for Them though."

"I'm afraid I can't quite see you as anything but 'Sergeant Benton'." She smiled, stepping into the boiler suit. "Is she alright in there?"

"Just fine. I don't see why you want to do her up so much. She's just an old machine."

Sarah grinned, "Not as old as the TARDIS."

"I'll give you that."

She held out her hand for the key. "Don't you know the rules yet, sergeant? No talking to civilians if unauthorised on UNIT grounds."

Benton gave a lazy salute with one of his still lanky arms and threw a key to Sarah-Jane. "You know the drill better than I would, Miss Smith."

She smiled, "Didn't your drill usually involve a large explosion?"

He laughed, "It can be organised for you if you want."

Still smiling to herself, Sarah slung open the door of the garage, revealing a room empty but for a can of oil and a tank with 'PETROL' splayed across it in large black letters… and a canary-yellow roadster.

"What will we get done today, old girl?" Sarah asked the car, patting the bonnet fondly. "Maybe recalibrate that minimum inertia hyperdrive, and get you working the way you should again… Hmm, I sounded like Harry there. But… I suppose we're both 'old girl's together now anyway."

She removed her lipstick from the shoulder bag she had brought and pulled off the lid, "Why he carries a screwdriver when a lipstick can do the job…" She trailed off as she slid underneath the car, her face illuminated with a red-pink glow, she got to work.

The car was almost complete; Sarah smiled to herself as she picked up the number plate and sealed it on.