Daughter of Torchwood

Dinner Dates

The attic was quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of pens against paper. Starla sat perched on the edge of the desk in a pair of worn-out boyfriend jeans and a faded Torchwood Institute t-shirt she'd swiped from her dad's stuff. Her hair was pulled back into its signature thick braid, but a few loose strands framed her face as she leaned over her workbook.

Sarah Jane stood at the mirror, smoothing down her smart blazer and adjusting her hair with an uncharacteristic flutter of nerves. She looked polished, far too polished for a dry local government meeting.

Smiling at her reflection, Sarah Jane grabbed her bag and walked over to the pair, "See you later, then."

"Yep, see you, Mum," Luke said, his eyes never leaving his equations.

"Have a good evening, Sarah Jane," Starla added, offering a quick, supportive smile before highlighting a sentence in her textbook.

"You too. Bye, K9." Sarah Jane reached down to tap the robot's nose.

"Enjoy your evening, Mistress."

The heavy thud of the front door echoing up the stairs served as a starter pistol. The moment the lock clicked, Luke was on his feet, the studious facade vanishing, "Mr Smith, I need you. Quickly and quietly."

The wall panels slid open with a muted hum, Mr Smith forgoing his usual booming fanfare at Luke's request. Starla didn't hesitate; she fished her phone out of her jeans pocket and hit speed dial. "She's off again," she told Rani the second the call connected.

Outside, as Sarah Jane's car pulled off the drive, Clyde and Rani stepped out from behind a garden wall. "Right. We're coming over," Rani said, her voice crackling through the phone before she hung up.

Clyde frowned, watching the red taillights disappear around the corner. "What is she up to?" He didn't wait for an answer, sprinting after Rani straight up to the attic.

"How can I help, Luke?" Mr Smith's voice was low, sensing the clandestine nature of the mission.

"Activate tracking device, Mr Smith," Luke instructed, "Aerial satellite scan."

Rani burst into the attic first, breathless, "So, what was her story this time?"

Clyde followed close behind, "Better be good. She's wearing the 'important' earrings."

"She said she's going to a meeting at the town hall," Starla informed them, hopping off the desk and crossing her arms, "Something about a motorway extension."

"Mistress's exact words were," K9 interjected, his head swivelling toward the group, "You never know, there could be a story in it."

"Her excuses are getting lamer and lamer," Clyde said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Affirmative. Veracity level: 12%," K9 confirmed.

"Why is she lying to us?" Clyde moved to kneel beside the tin dog, patting his metallic flank.

"She's heading into town," Rani noted, moving closer to the crystalline display of Mr Smith, her eyes fixed on the moving red dot.

"Query," Mr Smith interrupted, his screen pulsing with a hint of mechanical disapproval, "Am I to understand you are using my tracking system to spy on Sarah Jane?"

"It's the fifth time in a month," Starla argued, her Torchwood instincts flaring. She knew the signs of a secret; she lived with enough of them herself. "It's not like her. We've got to find out what she's doing."

"She goes off on her own, all mysterious... what if she gets into trouble?" Clyde reasoned.

Mr Smith's fans whirred, "This is highly irregular behaviour."