"???" -Bridget Jones (few f/ mostly m) - (2 Parts)

[tma]

Author:me

Title: thinking about "I'll Be There For You" (not certain though)

Fandom: Bridget Jones Diary (books & movies)

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em I make no money- don't sue

Summary: Mark always takes care of Bridget; will he let her take care of him?

Authors Notes: I love these characters and I wanted to hear from both of them, but I just don't know if this style is working for this fict. Many, many thanks to wonderful Brit. beta for helping me with terms and such.

Feedback: Is a treasure. Comments and suggestions are welcomed too.

**Oh... words with * next to them have the American translations down at the bottom.**

Bridget

Feel like crap. But am meeting Mark tonight. Think that I may be coming down with something. Work has been a real germ factory lately. I sniff congestedly. I think I’ll call Mark and cancel. Hate to do that. Been looking forward to seeing him all week. Oops. Need to blow nose. Will do that first, then will call. Blowing nose made me have a sneezing fit. Blew nose again. Realised that I am getting a headache, take some *paracetamol. Try calling Mark. Line is busy. Think I’ll just lie down.

Mark

I just got off the phone with my mother. Honestly, I love my parents, but sometimes I think they take pleasure in hounding me. Mother needed me to pick up a few things for her garden party, since father is away, and she detests shopping, unless it is via computer/QVC, or having the store come to you. I can’t wait to see Bridget. It has been a really long week. I have a huge case coming up that I am trying in the High Court and I have probably put in a good 75-80 hours this week preparing. I am ready to have some fun. Rang her bell. No answer. Rang again. Same. I wondered if she was blow-drying her hair again. It had happened to us once before. Well we have finally exchanged keys, so I decide to let myself in. She is on the couch. Is she hung over? Not this early. She is probably just tired. I decide to sit on the lounge chair and wait for her to wake up. No sense it waking her up early. I decide to catch up with the paper while I am waiting.

Bridget

Mmmm… little nap felt good, just need to get up and call… Yikes!!! He’s here. Scared me, I start to scream. Mark came over by the couch and held me and said, “Hey, hey, it’s all right Bridget. It’s just me.” Started having coughing fit. Feel mortified that sexy barrister boyfriend is seeing me looking like Medusa. He got me some water and held it while I drank. “I’b sorry.” Now I sounded like a clown. I blushed and looked for a tissue. “Bust be here sombwhere” Mark handed me his handkerchief. It’s good to have a boyfriend who is always prepared. I turned and quietly blew my nose.

Mark

Bridget had definitely come down with something. She’s so cute though. She tries to get up to fix her makeup, and loses her balance and plops back down on the couch. “Mark, I am so sorry that I ov… ov… eishoo, hishoo, eishoo" Three cute little feminine sneezes in a row.

“Bless you, Bridget” I said. “What were you trying to say?” “I didn’t mean to oversleep. You should have woken me up.”

“Whatever for?” I asked, confused.

“I know that you had res… eichoo, hitchoo, huh huh eishoo reservations” she turned away and started blowing her nose again.

I noticed that not only was her nose bright pink, but she looked flushed too. “Bless you. Why on earth would you think that I would care about the damned reservations? Come here.”

Bridget

Mark was taking his “barrister” tone with me. I’d better do as he says. I meekly come over by him. Gently he takes one hand and brushes the *fringe off my face. He leaves his hand on my forehead for a little bit. Oh, his hand feels so nice.

“Bridget!” he exclaims, “you’re burning up. You need to get in bed.”

"Okay” I answer. Am feeling really crummy anyway. Should get in bed and let Mark get back home. But I REALLY wanted to see him. “I’m sorry that I spoiled everything." I sniff miserably. Really need to keep better eye on where tissues are located. "I’ll see you Monday night.”

Mark

She started walking toward the bedroom. I thought that I noticed tears in her eyes. “Let me make you some soup. Just tell me if you have…. Wait, this is you we’re talking about…. Let me run to the store really quick. It will only take me a minute.”

“You don’t have to” she said hanging her head and looking miserable.

“I know.” I smiled, “but I want to.” I realise that I do want to take care of her. She looks so fragile and miserable. I want to make her feel better and make her smile. I came over and put my arms around her. She tensed up and tried to move away.

“Mark, you don’t want this” she said as she sniffed.

“Come on Bridget you know I never catch anything.” I think the last time I had been ill was probably uni.

“Of course. You’re just too obstinante to catch anything.” She said, and stuck out her tongue.

“You’re lucky you’re sick missy.” I warned.

“Yeah… lucky be.” She said rolling her eyes.

Monday- Mark

When I woke up Monday morning my throat was sore. That was odd. I quickly drank a couple glasses of water to clear my throat and went off to work. I was in the middle of going through briefs when it hit me. My nose started tickling. I took out my handkerchief and sneezed three times in a row into it. There. It was probably just something in the air. I poured myself some more water and got back to work. Oh great. Now my nose was running. I blew it a few times. My secretary came in to do some typing for me. I was starting to feel really warm. I took off my jacket and ran my fingers through my hair. “

Is there something wrong, Mr. Darcy?”

“What?”

“I was wondering if there was something wrong, you keep staring off every so often.”

Oh no. The tickle in my nose was coming back. I shook my head “no” and rubbed at my nose. I didn’t trust my voice. A few minutes later she had a question for me that I needed to answer. I tried sniffing lightly and biting my tongue, hoping that the tickle would go away. “Oh yes, that ref… rence was on pay…. Ay.. “ Oh no there was no stopping it. I pulled out my handkerchief. “Excuse me. HuReichuh…. EiChuh… hichumf" Fortunately I managed to stifle the last one. I could feel myself turning red.

“Bless you, Mr. Darcy.” Said the secretary in a concerned way.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. Now I was saying that the reference was on page 24 of the statement to the court.” We continued to go through the brief, but my nose kept tickling. I tried to hold it off, but I finally succumbed to another sneezing fit.

My secretary was rather concerned that I wasn’t feeling well. I assured her that I was fine, but then I realised that I probably had somehow managed to catch Bridget’s cold. Of all the times! I felt fine enough, aside from feeling a little congested and mortified that I had to keep interrupting myself to sneeze. However, I really shouldn’t needlessly expose my poor secretary to my germs any further. I told her that on second thought I would finish things up at home.

“Then you’ll get some rest, sir?” she queried.

“Once everything is finalised.” I said, avoiding eye contact.

I really wanted to rest. My head had started pounding, and my eyes felt heavy. My nose kept running. I decided to take several handkerchiefs out of my drawer and put them at my desk, so that if I needed another one, I wouldn’t have to leave my work. I had to get this done. Almost wanted to call up Bridget and have her nurse me back to health. What am I thinking? I’m sure that is appealing. Being some sort of pathetic mummy’s boy type who can’t get through a little head cold to get his work done. Besides I really did need to get all the way through the witness statement and my opening and closing arguments.

Bridget

This is strange. Quarter past the hour and still no Mark. Mark is certainly not the type to be late for anything. In fact is usually a stickler for punctuality. Wonder if he got into an accident. My instance of exchanging keys has paid off. I jot a note, make certain to seal it with a kiss and run over to his place.

*paracetamol= aspirin

*fringe= bangs

[vote_for_pedro]

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE IT! It was so cool the way you wrote that. Is it how the book is written? I actually have it on the bookshelf. I ought to read it someday.

[tma]

Thanks I'm So happy that you like it. *hugs* Actually the book is all from her point of view. And as much as I Luuuuuurve the movies (Collin Firth is just TOO hot) the books are in opinion even better.

I thought about just doing it her point of view- but then I really wanted to hear from Mark too, so....

[VoOs]

I haven't read the books about Bridget Jones, only seen the second movie, but... *sighs happely* ...this story is so SWEET!!

Could we have some more? Pleeeeease?

[vignette]

Oh. My. God.

*screams* Oh, how long have I been waiting for sexy!Mark Darcy ficness? All snuffly and trying to be manly about it- I can't think of anything better. And you really have the Bridget style down to a tea. This totally completes my day, as the are repeating the tv Pride and Prejudice at the moment, so I've had an overload of Colin Firth nummyness today. Please let there be more, and soon? You know how utterly incompetant Bridget would be at looking after Mark, despite wonderful resolutions to be perfect domestic goddess type...

[tma]

thanks So much for the lovely comments. I Really appreciate them. I totally adore Mark and I do have another couple sections in notebook to polish, type, etc., etc.

Oh... and section one is edited. I believe I *got* all the Brit. spellings this time and I got some help with a couple of the terms (Thanks!!). And there may be more edits later, but....

And again * are in front of words that will be "defined" by their "Americanism" at the bottom of the page.

And now for more fic. ***************************************

Bridget

Went into Mark's study. I love his study, all masculine and posh and impressive looking. Found him surrounded by legal documents spread all over desk. Brown head of hair lying in midst of it all. Awww… he fell asleep. Went over to give him a quick hug and wake him up when I noticed several balled up handkerchiefs lying in a little basket by the desk. God… the man organises everything.

He must have caught my cold. I'm sure that explains everything. Mark is so terribly posh, he's probably mortified. I put my hand to his forehead like romantic heroine… yes-slight fever.

Started feeling swell of tenderness and capability. If Mark is ill, I'll take care of him. Now what would a domestic goddess/ sexy, caring nurse type do? Ah yes… Soup. Couldn't be that difficult. Plus unlike me, Mark has tons of stuff in fully stocked and modernized kitchen. Am sure to be able to make top notch soup.

Mark

My head was throbbing. There was clattering and clanging noises. What on earth? Did I lock the door? I thought that I had, but then again I had also planned on staying awake, which I evidently failed spectacularly at.

I crept into the kitchen, not certain what to expect. Bloody hell! It was a disaster area, and in the midst of what I could only assume to be a culinary attempt gone horribly wrong, was Bridget. I ran my fingers through my hair with a mix of frustration, confusion and annoyance.

Bridget

Why it is that things always turn out fabulous when done by others, but somehow those same things manage to get completely arsed up when tried by oneself? I was having a bit of a problem finding of the things, and the soup, while it was certainly on it's way was being a bit uncooperative. Then Mark suddenly appears out of nowhere; soup ends up all over, and I manage to look like a complete flop.

"What are you doing here?" he asks in his best "barrister" voice. The overall effect being ruined somewhat by dishevelled hair and twitching, pinkish nose.

"Well, weren't we supposed to go out tonight? You were just there sleeping, and I just thought… that I'd try to make…." Voice trailed off. Wasn't certain quite what to say.

Mark chuckled, "A mess?" He took a quick look at watch, expression becoming instantly apologetic. "Bridget, I-I'm terribly sorry. Give me just a moment and we'll go."

Am not at all certain that is a good idea. "I don't think that you…" am interrupted by violent sneezing fit.

"HuhRtchuh…HuTchuh… EiTchuh.. huh…ReTchuh..Chmpt." Sneezes bent him almost double. Adorable brown tears look teary and he looks completely flustered. He clears his throat, "Excuse me. I-I'm terribly sorry." He manages to say, staring at his shoes the entire time.

Mark

"Not a problem. Nurse Jones is here to take good care of you" she said. It's quite sweet of her actually, but I knew that she'd much rather go out, and I was certain that my kitchen would stay more in tact that way.

I shook my head. "That's very nice but unnecessary. I'll go change. We can g-g-Etchnmpt" Unfortunately that sneeze had managed to sneak up on me with incredibly awful timing.

She stood firm. "Go? I don't think so. You sound horrid. Call into the office. I'll take a couple sick days and you'll be as good as new." I groaned inwardly. I should have known that Bridget wouldn't just let go of her plan. She's too tenacious for that.

"I can't. I've got the DeSantos trial starting tommorrow."

"Well… can't…can't you just call the judge or something?" she asked, looking at me hopefully.

Honestly, she's very sweet, just sometimes a bit hopelessly naive. I chuckled but then it managed to turn into a coughing fit. They came out much harsher than I would have liked. I rubbed at my throat a bit.

Bridget went and got some water from the tap. I sip at it gingerly. "Sorry Bridget, you can't call in sick for trial in High Court. Besides, I am fine." I scrubbed a knuckle underneath my nose, hoping to quell the mounting tickle.

**ETA** (sorry got momentarily interrupted while typing

Bridget

"Well, if you can't take off tomorrow, then you'd certainly better let your nurse take care of you tonight."

"Hmmm…. I'd better?" he questioned with lift of eyebrow and patently patronising look on his face.

"Yes, you'd better." I said in my most official, take-charge tone.

"Well, I sup…" his voice began to quiver and he struggled to find his handkerchief and finish the sentence "supo..saHeiTchuh….huRutchuh…chmpt. excuse me, suppose I'd better then. What's first?" He was still humouring me that was obvious. But that didn't matter so long as he went along with it. Honestly, if men didn't have women to make them do what was good for them, however would they get along?

"Well, first I need to take the patient's temperature. I ran and found the thermometer, old fashioned one of course, probably foisted on him by his mum. Men never think of things like that. Mark was still standing in the study, shaking his head at me as if I were some silly child.

"Sit down." I commanded. He obediently sat down on the couch. Oooo!! I like this. Feel commanding, in charge, etc, etc. "Say Ah…." I continued.

He cleared his throat, "Ah…"

I put the thermometer in under his tongue and he closed his mouth. After not even half a minute had past, I noticed Mark's nose starting to twitch. "Not yet" I warned.

He nodded and scrubbed at his nose a bit. As soon as I took the thermometer out, Mark's jaw slackened, and his breathing became uneven. He quickly pulled out his handkerchief from his back pocket. For some odd reason the thought occurred to me that Mark is V. V. cute. I mean, he's always sexy and in control and such, but sometimes seeing him helpless and flustered makes him more approachable, more endearing in a way.

His eyes squeezed shut, his breathing became shallow, then suddenly he tilted his head back and "huh HuTchuh… EiTChuh… HuReiTchuh… EiShuh." He sighed and looked as if those sneezes took rather more out of him than he'd want to admit. "What's the veridict, durse?"

"Well… you are running a slight fever, you sound congested, and you can't seem to go more than 5 minutes without sneezing. Offhand, my medical expertise tells me that you've managed to catch my cold, which I believe I had warned you about. You need bed rest, soup, and if I'm not mistaken, some *paracetamol."

Mark[\i]

I was continuing to humour her. Although, truth be told, I was rather glad that she was on this bent. I felt like I'd been run down by a *lorry. So I let her get me some water and *paracetamol. Which she managed to spill a bit on my trousers in her haste to bring it to me.

Then she started to massage my temples. I was a bit nervous. But it actually felt quite nice. "Hmmm" I mumured, leaning into it, "You know, you are incredible."

"So I was right?" she asked, with look of cat who'd eaten the canary.

"In learning massage, absolutely." I wasn't giving her any more satisfaction than that. In fact I definitely needed to put some time parameters in place so that I could finish up the work that needed to get done. Because as absolutely wonderful as lying down, being pampered was, it didn't make one's duties and obligations disappear.

ETA**Blushes Profusely as I Just realised that I neglected to write trousers and wrote instead that Americanism that has different meaning. Sorry. **

*paracetamol=aspirin

*lorry=truck

[Sneesee]

Mmmmmm, this is lovely! Thanks tma! I presume there is more?

[vignette]

Oh, this is so awfully, awfully good. It's like the fic I've always been waiting for! Of course, sneezy!Mark is absolutely divine, but you write Bridget so well! And full marks for Brit speak and spelling - 'arsed up'... wonderful! More, please?

[daystar428]

love it!!! its very very cute hehehe

[count tiszula]

Jolly good stuff, old fruit. It's so nice to find a sneezy story with a bit of humour in it. And youi've got Bridget off to a T. Can't understa\nd why she's stopped sneezing though; I'm pretty sure her colds would go embarrassingly on and on.

Could we be heading for a sneezy court scene? Bridget with her Thermos[R] of soup in the public gallery? I know a sneezy barrister and have long fantasized about what happens if they are overtaken by a fit in mid speech. Never dared to ask, of course.

By the by, Aspirin and Paracetamol are different stuffs; Aspirin damages your stomach; paracetamol your liver; just in case someone confuses them.

[The Dude]

Woohooo, just caught up on this and I'm loving it! Keep up the great work tma!

[(hippo)]

omg SO CUTE!!! i love mark

and Bridget's sneezes perfection

thankyou so much!!!

[tma]

Jolly good stuff, old fruit. It's so nice to find a sneezy story with a bit of humour in it. And youi've got Bridget off to a T. Can't understa\nd why she's stopped sneezing though; I'm pretty sure her colds would go embarrassingly on and on.

Could we be heading for a sneezy court scene? Bridget with her Thermos[R] of soup in the public gallery? I know a sneezy barrister and have long fantasized about what happens if they are overtaken by a fit in mid speech. Never dared to ask, of course.

By the by, Aspirin and Paracetamol are different stuffs; Aspirin damages your stomach; paracetamol your liver; just in case someone confuses them.

Thanks! For some bizzare reason I have been able to "channel" Bridget. Probably because I think that she and I are rather alike in some ways. *this thought scares me a bit.* lol!

@ comment about why she's stopped sneezing- answer: because I wanted sneezy Mark dammit.... errrr... I mean.... because it magically went away.

Actually that idea for a court scene sounds Brilliant. Honestly. In fact I think I will lift it. And since I liked the idea So muchly- I'll even throw in some more cold-striken Bridge into the story.

I *thought* that "you guys" had aspirin over the pond- but proofer had offered up the other so, I wasn't certain.

*****

Dude- Thanks!! And I hope that you'll like more sneezy Bridge too.

hippo, daystar, vingette, sneesee.... Thanks So much!!

Honestly- you guys just made my day lots brighter. Thank you so much!!

*off to write more- I will Try not to be too long*

[Lady K]

FYI, Paracetamol is the same thing as acetaminophen, more commonly known to us in the U.S. as Tylenol.

(This has been your friendly neighborhood pharmacist speaking.)

[March Hare]

De-light-ful... You've got the style down to a nicety, my dear. Really you do. This is a top-notch fanfic... I love it! Wonderful!

[sneeze_e]

Hay thats so so good, i love the film and books, but this is wicked. keep em up