Sarah Jane nodded at his question, and couldn't help but chuckle as he went on about the journalists he'd known. "I'd like to consider myself the latter," she said. "Although I will admit to having to create cover stories for papers when the truth would have been too difficult to be believed." How many excuses had Mr. Smith created over the last few years? And how many had she herself written, after carefully writing up the true account of something, like the dinosaurs in London, when she was told the Official Secrets Act wouldn't let her real story be published? At least her skills had gone to use. There was a file somewhere in the UNIT archives with her name on, full of reports of the various things she'd witnessed over the years. And all her investigative skills had helped to save the planet several times, which was more important than a by-line any day.
She listened to Dr. Reid's description of his job and nodded in sympathy. She'd had acquaintance with people like him over the years, and it wasn't an easy job. Useful, especially when she needed something looked at, or some sort of pattern analyzed, but not easy.
Bunker. Screens lining a wall. Locked in a bunker with other people. Sarah Jane's eyes narrowed and she frowned, trying to remember. The images wouldn't come, at least, not yet. She was certain that listening to him would help her memory. "Go on," she said when he paused in his recounting.