Sarah Jane Smith sat back and stared at her computer for a while.
Well. That was an email she hadn't been expecting. Some reporter from the States, working for a paper that she'd never heard of. Ordinarily she would simply have deleted the message and moved on. She had more important things to be doing. Like spiking Torchwood's latest attempt to get at one of her alien refugees and making sure her son ate something healthy for a change between school and running off with his friends.
Dear Miss Smith, it read. I have been following your stories with great interest...
And great disbelief, probably, at least in regards to the editorials.
It seems that you and I have similar interests, though I believe that we approach them from different ends.
Similar interests. What on earth could this woman possibly mean by similar interests? Sarah Jane had looked up the other's ouvre and seen nothing but tabloid-esque histronics about vampires and wizards. Yet she knew that there were such things as vampires, or creatures that could be mistaken for them, at any rate. As for wizards... well.
Perhaps this woman wasn't crazy, just confused. Similar interests. Hmm.
Would you consider a correspondance? I would be delighted to have someone of your obvious intelligence and experience to talk to.
Sarah Jane dismissed the flattery, but considered the request very carefully. Similar interests.
Well. What could it hurt, after all? It was only email.
She opened up a new message and began to type.
Dear Miss Rodriguez: I would be delighted to correspond with you...