Five Things That Should Have Been Said To, or By, Mark Darcy
© 2006, S. Faith.
Standard disclaimers apply, yadda yadda yadda.
1.)
Bridget Jones watched her mother flit away to ostensibly take care of lumpy gravy, leaving her with a lit cigarette, a screwdriver, and the company of a strange man wearing a reindeer jumper. She blew smoke through her teeth, took a sip of her drink, then turned to him with pursed lips, running her thumb along her eyebrow then raising her eyes to meet his. Probably best to set expectations straight right off the bat.
"It's nothing personal, but I can tell you don't want to be here talking to me any more than I want to be here talking to you. I'm wearing the ugliest dress ever to exist because of my mother, who, incidentally, does not take no for an answer and has never been subtle when it comes to playing matchmaker for me, so let's not prolong the agony, shall we?"
She made to step away from her new acquaintance when he said, "The jumper was my mother's doing." And then he smiled.
2.)
The words "just as you are" had barely had time to leave his mouth before he heard the clack-clack-clack of Prada across the floor then descending the stairs. It was Natasha, informing him that they were making progress on the case, a blatant lie as there was no case that the three of them – Mark, Natasha, and Jeremy – were working on at the present time.
Then she snapped three times in rapid succession, as if he were nothing but a lap dog that she was beckoning back to her side.
He had always thought the cliché "the straw that broke the camel's back" was tacky and overused, but in this instance, it was all too appropriate.
He wheeled around. "No," Mark Darcy said authoritatively, furrowing his brows. "I don't think that I will."
He took a step towards Bridget Jones, and extended his elbow to her.
3.)
"…More than nice."
She'd gotten her feelings out in the open, told him she was sorry for believing Daniel, told him she liked him too, told him it'd be nice – more than nice – if he were to come around again some time. Mark simply stood there, features inscrutable, as if someone had just told him the street light had changed from amber to red. "Crikey," he muttered under his breath.
The distinct sound of silver on crystal and Mark's father's voice calling attention to an impending speech brought him out of his reverie. He looked towards where the crowd had gathered, and back to Bridget. He knew what was coming and he had to get in there before his father said something that was about to become a lie. "Excuse me," he said hurriedly before stalking off in the direction of the party.
He headed with single-minded purpose towards his father, shrugging off Natasha's talons as he passed by her. He sidled up to his father and said quietly, "There's been a change of plans."
As he finished telling his father what not to say, he glanced up and saw Bridget at the back of the room, her face broadcasting the hurt his rapid departure had caused her. Quietly and quickly, Mark Darcy strode to the back of the room, and, not caring that all eyes were upon him (least of all Natasha's), kissed Bridget Jones.
4.)
Mark listened in disbelief to Bridget accusing him of not being able to muster the strength to fight for her, and he could take it no more.
"Do you mean aside from me beating the living hell out of Daniel Cleaver for the gall he displayed, coming back to you after hurting you so badly?" he said through clenched teeth. "Or the fact that I turned down a lucrative partnership in America just to be with you? Honestly, Bridget, I don't know what more you want from me."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he knew what was coming next.
"If I wanted a woman like Rebecca, I would be dating Rebecca. But I don't. I want you, because you're beautiful, you make me laugh, and I love you, as I have mentioned quite a few times. And unless you're willing to be patient about the fact that I am not ready to jump into marriage after only a couple of months of dating, then maybe you should leave."
Without words, she slipped out of her coat and took him into her arms.
5.)
"Your sex life doesn't concern me."
The days and nights spent in this lurid Thai prison were nothing compared to the way his words had cut Bridget to the quick.
In a slightly more professional tone, he continued, "Has there been any ill treatment?"
Her eyes flashed to him and she said under her breath, "Do you mean aside from that comment just now?"
He looked stunned.
She continued, "Don't get me wrong – I am thankful you are here, even if it is only on a messenger-type basis – but I tell you I'm sorry and that I think about you all the time, and you don't even have the decency to let me finish and tell you that I did not sleep with Daniel Cleaver…?"
The attaché case he had been holding in his grip fell over, spilling papers all over the table.
She helped him to gather them back up and heard him say in a very small, very weary voice, "I'm more than just a messenger, Bridget."
The end.