|Reviews for Double Take|
| alix33 chapter 9 . 10/5/2010
"Bridget, why do you think he's here?" said her mother with a smile. She looked so much like her daughter might look in thirty years' time it broke my heart to think I might not be around to see her then: dark blonde hair going silver, blue eyes with generous laugh lines in the corners, open and warm and generally happy." - She sounds very pretty.
"given a cup of hot black tea with plenty of milk and sugar—not my favourite, particularly in the typically weaker American tea blends, but I wasn't going to be rude—and a plate heaped with slices of buttered toast." - I like the thought of heaps of buttered toast, but I do not DO English or Oriental teas, only rooibos, and that I have never had with the heaps of toast.
| nikje chapter 9 . 10/4/2010
Thank you for another wonderful story!
In retrospect, the angst was not too bad...and your frequent postings helped as well :)
| alix33 chapter 8 . 10/3/2010
"We generally spent a good deal of the day being very sloth-like," - I approve of a) sloth-like behaviour; and b) especially sloth-like behaviour in which Mark Darcy is involved.
"And… Natasha, isn't it? Nice to see you again." "Bridget," she said neutrally. I knew Natasha well, knew she was caught between wanting to impress a renowned actress and despising the woman that had, in her own mind, stolen me away from her." - Natasha's quandary made me laugh very maliciously.
| alix33 chapter 7 . 9/28/2010
"It would be mere minutes before I'd be hopping into a taxi for the Ivy. I did not want to drive; I knew I would need wine with supper, and plenty of it, for my formal debut into her society." - Mark Darcy and Bridget's ex and loads of wine, oh dear!
"that we were being set up with one another. Mark and me, I mean. It failed miserably as far as that goes. He insulted me so incredibly badly, but it didn't offend me. I was pleased, actually, that I was able to pull the wool over everyone's eyes, because all I usually get is that I'm just a pretty face." Even as I thought she must be exaggerating with the awards she had won, I felt terrible at the reminder of how horrible I'd been that day." - And IMO you SHOULD feel terrible at how horrible you were that day, Mark!
"but she grasped my suit lapels and desperately pressed her lips to mind." - "pressed her lips to mine".
"How about we have a shower then go to bed?" "Okay." She sat up, then stood, slipping out of her rumpled dress, pulling off her shoes. We washed in relative silence." - Using eeny-teeny-tiny little bars of hotel soap, or equally minute little bottles of hotel shower gel?
"We did nothing special, just sat with dinner and watched a film, the same film we'd tried to watch that night weeks ago. I suspected eventually we would make it through to the end. This was not that time." - Hehehe.
| alix33 chapter 5 . 9/24/2010
Gosh, I thought this chapter link would bloody never open! Tonight ff-dot-net stands for freaking-f%#$ed-up-dot-net, I swear! Virtually every second chapter I try and open and read, I get a freaking "an error has occurred while processing your request" message! It would not open from the link in the alert, nor from the Bridget Jones Fanfiction Archive page, nor from your profile page, and I tried each way a couple of times! Whoever it was that screwed with ff-dot-net to cause it to do that, deserve to have his/her breakfast cereal urinated in, IMO!
I have never had Indian takeaway food, I do not think. Their use of chillies (which I do not eat often and do not like as hot as it normally is, almost by default, in Indian curries) scare me. I DO like cheese and onion samoosas, though, something which would have real Indians or experts on Indian cuisine of any kind, possibly even the takeaway kind, run screaming for the hills. I think Indian expatriates living in South Africa thought that up, the cheese and onion samoosas.
"took our bowls to the sink" - To rinse later, before stacking them in the dishwasher? Or does Mark not have one of those?
"I had not honestly had much occasion to show off the cherry wood four-poster to many people," - Cherry wood, that IS pretty...
"I didn't guess she needed a moment." - Did you mean for Mark to think: "I guess she didn't need a moment" there? It would make more sense...
"and she was there before me in her pants; also lacy and lovely but not an exact match to the bra. I could not remotely care." - This reviewer cares, and appreciates it hugely that for once one of her favourite fictional people is not wearing a matching set of lingerie.
| alix33 chapter 4 . 9/23/2010
"My mother has always been a wonderful, caring, loving woman, and there's nothing she could do that would ever make me angry at her on a long-term basis." - I could say the same about my mom, except the times when she wasn't has had such devastating effects I will be angry at her for along time yet and at myself for being angry.
| alix33 chapter 3 . 9/20/2010
About your query in your review reply to my review of chapter two: What made me cringe about the pic of the actor on Bridget's laptop, is that fact that Mark found it: If I WERE having dinner (even if it is just Chinese takeout, Viennetta and espresso) with a real-life bloke as dishy as he (Mark) is, I would not want my movie star posters, or the 21st century version thereof, to be seen by said dishy real-life bloke, not ever!
"I was sure I recoiled when I saw her expression. She looked completely devastated. I forgot my quest for the moment and went up to her. "Bridget?" She turned to me, obviously startled, clearly upset. Her eyes were reddened and her cheeks damp; her nose was pink and chafed as if she had been blowing it. "Oh, hi," she said. I couldn't tell if she was happy to see me or not." - Gracious good Lord, I DO hope Mark did not really recoil? And I would say Bridget was happy to see you, but unhappy are how you are seeing her looking, Mark.
"I was determined at that moment to see her home the entire way, so I said, "Wait here," and with laser-like focus turned to find a taxi with a vacancy light blazing. I was a man with a mission, and in short order I found one. With purpose I strode forward off the walk and into the street, my hand raised to hail it. I met the taxi driver's eyes, and he dutifully pulled aside to the kerb." - Yay! for Mark having accomplished his mission (AND yum! for the mental pic he made thus)!
"She gave the driver her street address (which I immediately committed to memory)," - Not just a pretty face and yummy body, are you, Mark Darcy?
"even if I did feel a bit rejected." - AW, poor Mark!
"the taxicab was still idling at the kerb. As I approached, the window lowered. "Might you be available for another fare?" I asked. "Sure," he said. "I was actually waiting to see whether you were staying or going. Kinda thought you might be staying." I didn't really need commentary from the taxi driver on the state of my relationship (nascent as it was) with Bridget, didn't want to encourage a third-party analysis of what had just occurred, so I opened the back door, sat down and in a business-like tone proceeded to give him my home address." - Hey, no need to take it out on the poor cabbie, either! He HAS TO amuse himself somehow, as I reckon his job is pretty boring...
"I spent the entire weekend analysing it myself, however. I tried to work out why she had been near the hotel we'd had our drinks in, and it occurred to me: it wasn't far from the offices of Pemberley Press. When I thought of what could have made her cry, factoring in Pemberley Press, I could only think that her trouble had had something to do with Daniel Cleaver. I contained my urge to find him and kill him. I thought instead I would be the better man, and immediately upon getting home I went to ringing up to find a florist for delivery. First, though, I had to decide exactly what kind of flower to send. Roses, while beautiful, were beyond obvious and cliché in pursuit of (or to comfort) a lady, and seemed to better suit, well, the likes of Natasha in any attempt to impress. Bridget was different, special… and downright wild in comparison. Wild. The corner of my mouth lifted with a smile. I rang up the florist's and asked them to deliver on Monday morning the most unusual, brightly coloured, and fragrant bunch of wildflowers they could put together. I gave them the address for Pemberley Press, thinking with a perverse amount of pleasure what Daniel's reaction might be like if (rather, when) he learned I was sending flowers to a woman who had rejected him. On the card I asked them to write: 'Throw me a curve ball. Mark.' " - OK, you're forgiven for having been so curt with the cabbie.
"she ran forward and tackled me with an embrace, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "They're so lovely," she murmured into my ear. As if realising her outburst might have been attracting attention, she pushed herself back abruptly, flushing a bright red as she did. "Sorry," she said. "That is nothing to apologise for," I said, feeling very proud of my efforts. "I'm just glad you liked them." She pulled the bouquet out from her bag, then brought them to her nose and inhaled deeply. "I do. I really do. I just felt so badly about…." She trailed off." - Hehehe.
"Why don't you come to my house when you're finished?" She looked sceptical. "And then go where?" "I'll cook." "Are you a good cook?" "Passably good." She didn't reply. "You don't have to look so disbelieving." She chuckled. "I'm not used to that. Someone to cook for me." "I'll cook for you," I said again." - Gracious good Lord, yum! Like I already said: Not just a pretty face and yummy body, are you, Mark Darcy?
"She smiled again, and it was a beautiful thing to witness, full of warmth and emotion. "Okay. Friday at eight, your place." I nodded. "One small detail. I have no idea where you live." I laughed out loud. "Have something to write on and with?" I gave her my address, which she wrote on the back of the card that came with the flowers with a pen that the fruit vendor had." - Bless the literate fruit vendor!
"I settled on a pasta dish, rotini with pesto, which I thought would be safe enough, light, filling, tasty and a low possibility for disaster (unlike long messy spaghetti strands)." - EW, I dislike pesto, or maybe it is only the kind made of basil?
I do not know about you taste in reading material, but if you ever come across the works of a British author named Freya North, read her debut book, called Sally. In it, the hero, Richard, seduces Sally over pasta with porcini sauce and tiramisu, yum! Mark's preparations for dinner with Bridget at his house made me think of that author, book and scene.
"It was a grey tweed jacket, tailored to fit closely to her form, with which she was wearing a matching skirt that I noticed only then came up over her knee." - Yum! There are only a very few things in this world that I covet more than a tweed suit (though the least expensive ones would probably cost as much as my groceries for a month), only I work and play in an environment where jeans and T shirts are de rigueur, so I will have nowhere to wear said suit to, were I even to somehow obtain one.
"I watched with a mixture of surprise and amusement as she slipped out of her shoes, heeled with a modest lift. She caught my expression as she raised her head again. "What?" "Why are you taking your shoes off?" Her own expression suggested she thought I'd gone mad. "I don't want to scuff up your floor and get your carpet dirty. Why else?" "Have you been tromping through pig wallows?" I joked. "You can leave them on if you like." "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "It just wouldn't feel right." In solidarity, I took off my shoes as well. She smiled, then laughed. At least I had nice socks on and not some bizarre mismatched pair grabbed in the haze of dressing this morning." - What a totally cute scene!
"a fish monger?" - "fishmonger" is one word.
"She picked out a slice of tiramisu and got a decaf cappuccino, while I opted for a lemon chiffon cake and a hot black tea, also decaffeinated;" - I have never had lemon chiffon cake, what is it like? And also I am lucky in that caffeine does nothing to my sleep pattern, so I can have coffee with caffeine in it any time of the day or night.
Phew! At least that confused Rose boy in the bakery did not spoil the end of the evening entirely!
"So where are we going?" "Don't you like surprises?" I asked, glancing towards her. "Depends on the surprise," she said, then added with a smirk, "Reindeer jumpers, no." - That was a bit mean, IMO! I LOVED Mark's reindeer jumper! (but v. poss. only because of the body inside said jumper? Which shows I am shallower, much shallower by far, than Bridget in this fic.)
"Lunch was fish and chips, a pint of bitter (for me) and hard cider (for her)." - Yum!
"The food was good, certainly not exotic, but her company was all that mattered to me." - AW!
"the effects of the cider a bit evident as she swiped a chip through some malt vinegar." - I LOVE the SMELL of vinegar when it is served with fish and chips, and yet I LOATHE the taste of it.
"It was near to five when we left for London. It seemed silly to part just in time for dinner, so she invited me up, offered to spring for pizza. I accepted. We sat together on the sofa and watched a film as we ate the pizza, drank a little wine." - What topping on the pizza, please, or didn't you two even notice?
| alix33 chapter 2 . 9/20/2010
OK, so I got it totally wrong about Henry!
If I HAD to find a working corkscrew in MY flat, I would have to tip out the whole of the miscellaneous drawer (that is, the top drawer in my kitchen cupboards; the rest contain crockery) on account of hardly ever drinking in my flat too!
Viennetta - I had to Google it. I think I have had it once at a dinner party of my parents' and found it utterly gross.
I am ABSOLUTELY CRINGING at Mark having found that actor's picture on Bridget's laptop.
I am intrigued at what Bridget needs to sort out...
| nikje chapter 3 . 9/20/2010
Beautiful chapter - I loved the trip to Guildford.
But was it really necessary to add that last line... :)
| jeremiah 2911 chapter 2 . 9/18/2010
I love this story!
| middlekertz chapter 2 . 9/18/2010
After all, she certainly had been a delightful upheaval in my life thus far, one with very pleasant curves.
I laughed. :)
| natural buff buff chapter 1 . 9/17/2010
Yaaay! New story, and already hooked. Like the way you're keeping us in suspence ;) Will we find out who Henry is? Here's to hoping!
| sleepwalker chapter 1 . 9/17/2010
omg! this is soooo intriguing! I'm dying waiting for the next chapters, please update soon because I'm sooo curious to see how this plot will develop! you're brilliant. and that's an understatement!
| middlekertz chapter 1 . 9/16/2010
'It was a good cause, which I thought was probably the only antidote to a weekend afternoon (and into early evening) of Natasha clinging to me as if she were an overanxious howler monkey.'
I have been waiting for this term since you emailed me about it over the summer, my friend. Thank you. Thank you so much.
| alix33 chapter 1 . 9/15/2010
"and the black satin dress that Natasha had confided to me was not from a couture line she'd ever seen (meaning: it wasn't from one)," - Natasha makes me want to hurl heavy things at the TV screen violently whenever I watch this movie. Fortunately I never quite do, since I am (futilely, it seems, with property prices in the neighbourhood I want to still live in as high as they are even WITH a deposit, but still...) saving up for the deposit on a bigger flat and thus do not really have money for a new TV.
"it was better than eating takeaway alone in front of the telly or with a stack of papers to read." - If Natasha were MY alternative, I would say bring on the takeaways, the telly and the stacks of papers to read, and do so post haste!
"She was herself dressed smartly in what I presumed was something she would wear for work; blouse, skirt, tights, heels, her hair pinned back in a barrette." - I cannot even remember the last time I wore a skirt! And my hair is a chin length bob, far too short for a barrette.
This Henry Shaw sounds very in-te-res-ting...who is he, really? Tom's latest fling (or sugar daddy, on reading Henry was older a bit farther on in this chapter), on loan to Bridget for some much-needed poise lessons?
"I always liked browsing the fresh fruits and vegetables before jogging back home;" - But never buying any and taking it home in, say, a backpack? The weight-bearing jogging will be good for you, as will eating the fruit and veg...Or do top human right lawyers, on pain of death, not DO backpacks when they go jogging?
"I was sure I looked a wreck, sweaty and dishevelled from my exertion." - Sweaty and dishevelled Mark Darcy, yum!
"She didn't seem to feel the need to filter her thoughts through an internal editor before they came burbling out," - Hehehe at Mark's assuming Bridget even HAS such a thing as an internal editor!
"She was irreverent in her way," - No wonder she is one of my favourite fictional/literary people ever. I LOVE irreverence, especially lately.
"I heard a voice from behind me. "I thought she wasn't your girlfriend." I turned to see Bridget, and I must say the ensemble, the hair, the makeup, the singular silver necklace, was very striking. "She isn't," I said. "She had tickets." "And you were willing to do anything for them?" she asked, a glint in her eye." - BUSTED, Mark!
"Natasha was bored; frankly, I thought she probably didn't understand it." - How DID Natasha become a barrister if she is demonstrably a dim bint, then?
"I looked to Natasha, whose face revealed the undisguised jealousy she felt. "I don't think even you could find fault with her attire today." "Not the dress inherently; it's even from this season," she said with a snooty sniff. "But that dress probably costs more than she'd make in a year. Bet I can guess though who paid for that dress and her ticket into this match." - Damn, that is mean!
"Giles, however, was stabbing his finger in the air. "You say you know her?" he asked. "I'd swear I recognise her from somewhere. A film or something." Natasha did not appreciate it when her barbs go unrecognised, and as a result she snapped irritably, "What, in a porno?" - Natasha is also in dire need of an internal editor, IMO.
Henry spoke up. "Bridget, I can't leave you here." "He's my ride," she explained. "Oh," I said, struck by the best idea ever to strike a human being. "Why don't I bring you back to town?" Henry looked disapproving, but Bridget said, "Henry, he told me he won't say anything." Arching a single brow, Henry regarded me with a bit more openness. "Well," he said. "So long as you don't stay too long, I suppose." Rather short lead, I thought with some annoyance. "Oh, thank you. I'll call you later, then?" She grinned at him, then turned to me. "And thank you for offering. I really am having a grand time." "I'm happy to do it." Henry and Bridget said their goodbyes—a little coolly, I thought, but perhaps they were just being discreet—and she slipped her hand through my elbow; me, her new escort for the rest of the day. "Shall we have a drink?" I thought it best not to have another, but we walked towards the bar and ordered a glass of wine for her. "I noticed you seemed to prefer white," I said at her look of slight astonishment. "I do," she said. "Then what is it?" "I just can't believe you noticed." I felt a bit of heat creep over my cheek, hoped in the bright light of the sun and her pink-tinted lenses she couldn't tell. I sipped my water with lemon while she drank her wine; she asked me a little more about my work, listened intently to my responses and asked thoughtful follow-up questions leading to a bit of debate. Before I knew it the event was ending and we had not had a chance to mingle with anyone else. I didn't mind at all." - AW, this was SO cute!