his_sarah_jane | [Milliways] OOM: James' Flat, London, 2006

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[Milliways] OOM: James' Flat, London, 2006

After their discussion days ago regarding moving the wedding up to ...well, to sometime relatively soon, Sarah Jane had promised to start looking in to details (as long as he would do the same, of course). But that had been days ago, and since then Sarah Jane had no more opened the wedding magazine she had brought than even began looking at the calender for a date.

Instead, she busies herself today with working on an article for a small London newspaper. The magazine sits somewhere on the table, buried under notes and photographs and books. It rests there, almost forgotten, as she works and wonders.

How long has it been since her last trip with the Doctor? Sarah thumps her pencil against the table, and when she reaches for the calender, it's not to look for a wedding date at all.

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Sarah Jane is not the only guilty party in this: James had not searched the calendar for a wedding date, either. He still hasn't done so today. He's filled his hours reading the paper, watching the news, walking around the neighborhood, itching for a life greater than the mundane domesticity he's fallen into... He fondly remembers the days, not too long ago, when he could up and leave and go anywhere he chose, with anyone he pleased. He can't do that now without Sarah Jane worrying about the personal implications.

All of this might mean he's itching for excitement at work. But then again, life wasn't like this before, and it's this circular fact that bothers him endlessly when he muses on boredom--or when he thinks about marriage. He's no longer surprised he feels irritated when he thinks of how irrational he had been, without considering whether he'd enjoy marriage or whether marriage added another boring, mundane institution to his life. Sometimes it's easy to justify everything by saying he loves Sarah; sometimes it's difficult to justify anything when he thinks of how he can't do anything without her taking it personally, can't say he's bored or restless without her doubting his fidelity, can't be absent for too long without her worrying when he doesn't do the same when she's gone. Oh, sure, he's wary of the Doctor, but at least he has enough confidence to believe she wouldn't try anything. But there are times he knows his reputation as a fictional playboy is influencing her faith.

He's ready to burst, really. Something needs to happen, and it needs to happen soon. As for him and Sarah Jane--maybe that's true, too.

James enters the flat, wondering what to do next. It's still afternoon and he's exhausted all of his (safe) options.

Sarah barely looks up when she hears the door open, engrossed in reading over some of the notes she had written the other day. It seems difficult to make heads or tails of her crabby, rushed handwriting and not for the first time, Sarah Jane wishes she had taken more care with her work.

Finally she gives up, sighing in frustration and placing the paper down on top of the others. Perhaps a drink would help. Or a bite to eat. Or something to get rid of this nagging frustration of life reaching a standstill. Because that is what's bothering her, isn't it?

She's found herself stuck in domesticity with a man she loves and desperately wanting to get away. It's not how she ever pictured being engaged to be which makes Sarah wonder if this really is the life for her.

The only thing that still reminds her that it is is the way her eyes tear up and her heart aches whenever the stray thought of leaving James for good crosses her mind.

It's occurred to James that he wouldn't much enjoy being without her, either. Oh, yes, there'd be lots of women and lots of freedom. But would he be happy? That's the thing he has that he didn't have before, the thing that almost makes all these dull days of domesticity worth it in his mind.

Yet, at the same time, he finds the whole situation unbearable. The same place, the same woman, the same routines over and over again. The thrill of her sexual appetite is gone. Now it's expected. He never thought he'd tire of a woman who enjoyed sex just as much as he did, but in some respects, he has.

Sighing, he sits on the couch and feels yet another burst of indignation: has it really come down to this, flopping on the couch, waiting for some shred of excitement to fall onto his lap?

When Sarah Jane walks back in to the living room, still lost in her own thoughts, she doesn't exactly notice James at first. She sips at the wine cooler as she continues on her way, wanting so badly for someone to earnestly talk to about relationships. Did all of them grow this... stale, is it? ...this fast? Or is it because they had rushed into things, without giving the least bit thought to how compatible their lives and personalities really were?

Well, it still doesn't change the fact that she certainly loved him. That much remains certain through out all her musings. Maybe she even loves him more than she's loved any other man. But it hasn't stopped her getting restless and, to be frank, frustrated with living in two different decades.

So when Sarah Jane finally does notice him, she's already more than halfway to the couch. She looks at him with surprise in her eyes, blinking once or twice to make sure she's seeing correctly.

"I didn't realise you were coming home this early."

"Ran out of things to do," he replies nonchalantly, though the look in his eyes is anything but. He's scrutinizing her, as if she, just by standing there, will provide the solution to all his problems.

She nods, stopping in her steps for a moment in hesitation. This is absolutely ridiculous, she knows, but for seconds there, Sarah Jane feels as if she needs an invitation to sit next to him.

Rather ridiculous, she reminds herself as she flops down on the couch next to him. The wine cooler is placed on the table and Sarah Jane sighs. "I think I rather know that feeling."

He stares apprehensively at the wine cooler. That, more than anything, is the symbol of all the dullness he so wants to rebel against. And yet here it is, sitting innocently on his tabletop in his flat.

"Weren't you working?" he says, prying his eyes away from the bottle.

"Something like that I suppose," Sarah responds, glancing at the scattered papers and typewriter on the desk she had claimed as her own. "Working, thinking. You know how all those sorts of things tend to intermix."

"They're the same for me, these days," he admits with a sigh.

Sarah nods, cautiously leaning her head against his shoulder and hoping he won't mind. She just needs the contact right now. Needs it a lot.

"No new assignment yet, eh?"

He doesn't mind. He enjoys the contact: being around her is one way to combat all the issues he has with his present situation.

"No."

"Bullocks," she mutters, frowning.

She then falls silent for a few seconds, glancing around the room. Her eyes finally settle on the exposed corner of the bridal magazine and her frown deepens.

"I suppose that means more time to plan this wedding then."

James shifts--better yet, he squirms--in his seat.

"I suppose."

She notices that squirm, especially when said squirm knocks her head off his shoulder for a moment. Sarah pulls away slightly, sitting up straighter in the couch so she can look at him thoughtfully.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Are you?"

"Yes," she answers right away, relieved to get the word out. It had been such a weight on her chest, all those fears and uncertainties leading up to the wedding. And now that she's admitted them?

It's certainly a start.

She doesn't look away as she continues to speak. Once the words resume, Sarah Jane finds it very difficult to stop until every last thought is spent.

"It's not that I don't love you, James, because I do. So very much, more than I can put in to words. But I'm frightened. The last time I tried doing this was a complete disaster. And...and well I can't help but notice that we've reached a lull in our relationship. Is this what life is going to be like after marriage? Well, boring?

"And then I think about walking away from you and that thought frightens me just as much. I don't want to lose you either. Oh, crikey, I don't know what I want!"

James pulls her into a hug, partially to comfort her and partially to distract himself. That simple word, "yes," had been a concise declaration of all the dissatisfaction laying beneath their domestic bliss, and he's slightly surprised to discover that Sarah Jane feels the same way as he does--though considering their history, he shouldn't. He and Sarah Jane are more alike in mind than he realizes, at times.

As for what he has to say, he keeps to himself. Largely because he doesn't know what to say.

For once, Sarah Jane doesn't care that James isn't responding with words. It's the hug that matters most to her right now as all her fears continue to plague her. He's not angry with her (or he wouldn't be hugging her, would he?) but that still doesn't answer anything. It doesn't tell them how they can get the best out of all worlds.

When she shuts her eyes, a few tears finally fall and Sarah buries herself in his embrace. This isn't fair. She truly loves James, and she's certain he feels the same way about her. Or they wouldn't be in this whole mess to begin with.

Oh, why did she have to go and fall for someone who handled domesticity as poorly as she did?

James relishes the distraction of the embrace. Doing this, he can shut off his mind and focus on the act, on doing the right things that will make her feel comfortable.

The distraction doesn't work too well, this time, though. After a few seconds of mindless bliss, James is struck with a persuasive conviction that he's done this all before, and there's nothing new; they've exhausted all the routes of their relationship. Going any further would spell misery and disaster for them both.

She sighs as she pulls herself out of his embrace, needing to look at him right now more than actually touching him. She wants to search his face for an answer, but to her disappointment Sarah doesn't see anything more than she knows her own face reflects.

One of them has to speak, though, and her patiences is planning to give out soon anyway. With another sigh, Sarah tilts her head and fights back the newest wave of tears.

"Is this the end, James?"

Pause.

"I don't want it to be. But I'm so afraid it is."

That's the thing about Sarah Jane Smith: she thinks what he thinks, and she's not afraid to admit it--one of the things that drew him to her, initially, but now that tendency to speak their mutual truth is serving to draw them apart. He can't bring himself to lie through actions and words. As usual, she's rendered him completely defenseless.

He stops himself from looking away and stares directly into her eyes.

"It might just be."

The other thing about Sarah Jane Smith is that she has never been afraid to wear her emotions on her face. So she lets the tears fall as she faces, thinking over his words.

It feels so much like it's over. They've reached this dull lull that neither of them are happy with. Domestic bliss isn't suited for either of them. It's rather clear of that now, sitting in the living room of the flat together in silence. This whole conversation keeps reminding her how clear it is.

But she's still in love with him. Her heart still skips beats when he kisses her and she still can't imagine her life without him. And that certainly means she's not giving up on him yet. She's not giving up on them yet. One failed engagement in Sarah Jane Smith's life is more than enough. She doesn't want to live through another.

Resolve comes quicker than expected and Sarah wipes at her face before standing up. She picks up one of James' hands in her own, standing there with quite a sincere look on her face.

"Pack a bag."

James was readying himself for a big emotional break-up and break down, but this new resolve, and this new request, catches him so off guard that he's left with an almost comical confused expression on his face.

"What?"

"Oh, you heard me," Sarah replies, tugging on his hand to try to get him out of the seat. No other thoughts remain on her mind but this one demand.

"Pack a bag. And we'll get the next plane out to the Riviera and we'll get married. And then we'll disappear for a cruise around the world and make our own adventures if none will come to either of us."

She pauses, watching for her words to sink in.

"Marry me, James Bond." Pause. "Now."

This sounds...this sounds...

...wonderful, fantastic, thrilling--and all a fucking fantasy. That's what he was going to have with Vesper.

Still, he can't find the words to object to this insane plan. What about their jobs? He couldn't keep yanking M's chain, resigning then not resigning. He didn't know where these "adventures" with Sarah Jane would go. Where would they get the money? What would they do?

And yet there's a part of him, a part that's growing by the second, that loves this insane plan. Even if it is getting beat down by the logical portion of Bond's brain.

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