(no subject)
James Bond is in his room, smoking like a chimney.
He was mean to Sarah Jane. In retrospect, he realized it was on purpose. Cruelty was a good way to keep someone at arm's length. He wasn't normally that cruel towards women. Oh, he could sometimes be an ass, and a few of his ex-girlfriends were fond of the phrase chauvinistic pig, but he generally tried to be as charming as possible. But he had issues with love. He had issues with long-term relationships. He had issues with marriage. And Sarah Jane represented all three.
She'd already crept into another James Bond's heart (it doesn't make sense, these alternate Bonds, and part of him refuses to believe it's possible). Who's to say she wouldn't creep into his? What if that was the whole point of his being here, as he suspects? He doesn't like the idea any better than she seems to. She's not looking for a second husband; he's not looking for another wife. He's not looking for somebody to love and lose again.
So he sits in his room, and smokes, and thinks.