From the Journal of Sarah Jane

"I wouldn't, on the condition that I'm allowed to fix a plate for Vesper, as well."

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It's the smile that does her in.

She can act her age for once in her life, after all. Sarah Jane sighs slightly and forces a small grin on to her face. "No, James. Stay for a bit if you'd like."

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The Doctor gives her foot a gentle nudge under the table with his own. It's a gesture of pride and respect that he knows would only embarrass her if he were to say anything in front of James.

Instead, he just shifts a couple of the dishes to make room.

"I'm sure there will be plenty left for another plate. I may have two hearts, but there's still just the one stomach."

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James grins broadly. "If you insist."

He really and truly does not wish to intrude. It's with slight reluctance that he steps forward to the table, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets. He's ready to go the moment he's dismissed. Even an occasionally thick man such as himself can appreciate the need for two people to be alone.

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Sarah beams at the Doctor when she feels the foot nudge, getting his message clearly. She turns her head to look at James, smile still in place, and nods.

"He may claim to have only one stomach, but sometimes I truely doubt it," she says, quickly winking at the Doctor. "Still, I did over-do it and...

"Well, I hope that there's something you like."

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He doesn't wait for James to fix his plate or sit, just goes right back to his meal once the situation is sorted.

It really is quite good, after all.

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James grins at Sarah. "I had the same problem, myself. Cooked for a large group instead of for one."

Eventually he learned to downscale on the food. There are times, however, when he gets a little overzealous. Bad habits are hard to kick.

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Sarah flushes a little, shrugging. "It's not as if I have any group to cook for, anyway. I just wasn't sure what he'd like.

"You do like it, right?" She looks hopefully at the Doctor.

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He nods, spearing another sausage from the plate.

"It's lovely, Sarah Jane. Honestly."

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James takes a bite of the bacon.

"It's not bad at all."

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She smiles proudly at both of them, before ruining any shred of dignity with a big fork-full of beans stuffed in her mouth. Then, Sarah reaches for her mango juice and takes a sip, swallowing.

Face it, all that cooking had made her hungry.

"Excellent. Aunt Livinia was always so much better at this, but I'm glad to see that I've picked up something from her."

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"As much as I enjoy it, I do hope you don't get too comfortable in the role of doting hostess. My earlier self will be needing the take-no-prisoners feminist warrior, after all."

He's teasing, of course, but the reality is tucked in there as well. He let Milliways get too far into his blood once, too.

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If either of them have noticed that James has suddenly become more reserved, they aren't imagining it. He really does feel as if he's intruding on a private conversation. James picks up a slice of bread and bites into it, eyes focused on the tabletop.

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Sarah snorts and looks towards James for a moment, her lips pressing into a frown at his silence.

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that, Doctor. I'm perfectly capa --"

It's about then that she realises what he really said and kicks his leg hard under the table. "Oh! I'm not a feminist warrior! Brute!"

There's another glance at James. "Well? Aren't you going to help me here?"

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The Doctor yelps at the kick, jerking his leg back. Unfortunately, this has the effect of banging his knee into the table and knocking over his tea -- his still quite hot tea -- which is heading rather in James' direction.

"Well, you certainly kick like a warrior!"

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James is good at avoiding objects in motion if they come at him from a distance; avoiding hot liquid at a short distance, not so much. That still quite hot tea lands on James' leg. He takes in a sharp breath as the pain hits him and immediately reaches for a napkin.

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"Oh, you deserved it!" Sarah retorts, trying very hard to keep a serious expression on her face and not laugh at the two men. "Feminist warrior, my foot!"

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The Doctor can't keep the smirk off his face.

"Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say, ma'am. Just please don't hurt me again."

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Right. So. James has been burned. It kinda hurts. He's made visible attempts to relieve the pain by getting as much of the hot liquid off of him as possible, and yet these two are still in their happy, fluffy love zone. James isn't jealous, but he does have the feeling that he doesn't exist in the happy, fluffy love zone, and if he does he's not unlike a ghost. How, then, does this ghost excuse himself from the table without seeming rude? James considers his words carefully as he finishes wiping off the tea.

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"You're absolutely, positively horrible," Sarah Jane retorted, eyes narrowing at the smirk on his face.

Oh, how she would love nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. "I could do so much more than kick you under the table, you know!"

She really will notice James, really! As soon as that smirk goes away.

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"Burn me with coffee, for instance?" he says pleasantly. "Like our friend James? Oh, be a dear, Sarah Jane and get the poor man some ice or something."

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Attention! James is almost surprised by it. "Don't worry, Sarah," he says as he pushes his chair back, rising to his feet. "I can get it myself."

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Sarah glares at the Doctor for telling her what to do (oh, like he can't go and get ice either!) but gets up from her seat anyway.

"You should sit," she says to James, pointing a finger at him. "I'll get the ice."

She doesn't bother waiting for an answer and walks to the refrigerator, grabbing a towel off the counter along the way. Sarah opens the freezer door and quickly grabs a handful of ice to put on the towel. A few more seconds later she's back with a neatly wrapped bundle that she hands to James.

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