Doug and Marie-Ange: Wednesday
May. 30th, 2007 08:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to Wednesday - Weekday Date night for Doug and Marie-Ange. Take-out and movies are determined by virtue of random selection - spinning a globe and blindly grabbing some Bond movies. Is there significance to the movies selected? Do they relate to Marie-Ange's nightmare later in the night? Of course there is! It has nothing to do with Doug's player being a big James Bond fan at all. Nope. Not at all.
"Spin the globe, Angie," Doug told his girlfriend as he lay in his overstuffed chair, feet pointed at the ceiling and head pointed at the floor. He waved his feet back and forth and looked at an upside-down Angie. It was date night, and they'd decided on takeout and movies since neither of them was feeling up to anything more active and social. And so, with the evening's plans set, they needed to figure out what to get for dinner. The globe was the same as the one that resided in the office, and its purpose was the same: to determine what sort of takeout fare would be the evening's meal.
"Someday I am going to rig this so that it avoids Mexico and Thailand." Marie-Ange had already sent one of her imps to go get the globe so that she didn't have to get up off the sofa. Today's imps were black and blue pen sketches from the staff meeting earlier in the week, unfinished and jitttery in their movements.
"And what's wrong with Mexico and Thailand?" Doug asked with a grin. "Both allow me to indulge my penchant for waging savage war on my tastebuds." He chuckled. "And how would you rig a ten-dollar plastic globe anyway? Seems like an awful lot of work to go to in order to not get a couple countries. You could always just spin again..."
The imp brought the globe over and placed it on the floor before disappearing into mist. "Spinning again would be cheating. Otherwise why not just pick something?" Marie-Ange pushed the globe gently, setting it spinning and stuck out her thumb to stop it. "So.. does England determine our food, or our movie? Does the pub deliver?"
"Hm. I dunno. And I don't think the pub delivers," Doug said in reply. "And we're going to have to go out to the movie place anyway, unless we want to watch something we've probably already seen several times." Doug had a rather extensive DVD collection, but together he and Angie had watched a large portion of it. "We could just make it all England tonight and rent some James Bond..." Doug had been playfully aghast that the only James Bond movie Marie-Ange had seen was Casino Royale, and that had been with Doug dragging her to the theater.
"Fish and chips and Sean Connery?" Marie-Ange asked. "Can you call ahead to the pub and order for carry out, while I find my shoes? Your.... chair..." She said the word with an air of intense distaste. "Has eaten one. "
---
Doug hummed the James Bond theme under his breath as he and Marie-Ange wandered into the "action/adventure" section of the local video store. They could have gone to a Blockbuster, but Doug generally liked finding the mom-and-pop sort of stores, much the same as he did with restaurants. James Bond had an entire rack to himself, and Doug looked at Marie-Ange, his hands full of takeout bags. "Pick a couple for us?" he asked.
The rack of movies was far bigger then she'd expected. She had no idea what most of them were about. Marie-Ange knew that Doug had opinons about the actors who had played James Bond though. He'd mentioned it on the way to the pub to pickup their carryout. And then on the walk to the movie store.
Without any other way to guess which movies were good, Marie-Ange shut her eyes and reached out, picking up three at random. One, she recognized the title of. Live and Let Die was well known. She didn't know Moonraker at all, and the third she put back on the shelf. Doug had made his opinion of Timothy Dalton very clear.
"My inner Bond fanboy thanks you for remembering to put The Living Daylights back on the shelf, Angie," Doug told her as they made their way to the register. Some things were just a travesty, and Dalton's pair of efforts as Bond were high on the list.
***
"That was... interesting." Marie-Ange said, as the credits of the movie played on the television. "And strangly familar. I wonder why I have such a feeling of deja vu..." She wasn't sure the movie had aged well, but it had held her attention. "I thought that James Bond drank martinis? Why did he drink something else in that movie?"
"It was the first Bond movie after Connery, they initially tried to distance Moore's Bond from Connery's," Doug explained. "Later on he goes back to drinking the vodka martinis and such." He looked sideways at Marie-Ange with a sly smile. "Deja-vu, huh? Anything in particular seem familiar?" His eyes twinkled mischievously, and the giggle that he'd been suppressing ever since she picked up that particular Bond film off the shelf escaped for a moment.
"A young french woman who can see the future and used tarot cards? No, I think I know nothing of that..." Marie-Ange said idly, and used the moment to steal one of Doug's chips and nibble on it.
"Hey!" Doug objected loudly, grabbing his chip bag and pulling it closer inside the circle of his arms and frowning at Marie-Ange. "That wasn't very nice at all."
"You have better crisps then I do." Marie-Ange said, making grabby hands at the bag. "And you made fun of me about the movie. I get to steal crisps if you make fun of me. There is a rule." She'd taken a bit of a risk with the bag of crisps, and found out that while she liked salt and vinegar on potato wedges and 'fries', it was not a flavor she liked on crisps at all.
"Why is it that every rule seems to involve me getting smacked or stolen from or otherwise abused because I'm the male in this relationship?" Doug asked rhetorically as he ate some more of his chips. "I want to be a woman again so I can make the rules some more," he pouted.
"It is not because you are male. It is because you had the better crisps and made fun of me. If I had the better food and made fun of you, you would get to steal mine." A salt-and-vinegar crisp was flung at Doug to punctutate Marie-Ange's statement. "You knew what that movie was about when I picked it out and did not warn me. If I ... if I found a movie about a computer programmer who was like you and did not warn you, would you not be a little irate?"
"Nah, I'd be amused," Doug replied with a grin, catching the chip and tossing it back at Marie-Ange in an attempt to lodge it in her cleavage. "So, no comments about how Bond wound up getting the girl?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
The crisp landed on Marie-Ange's shoulder, and she picked it off, putting it on her paper plate with an expression of "Ew." "I think that I do not understand why sleeping with him made her lose her precognition. I did not lose mine when I lost my virginity." And it was even to a somewhat disreputable government agent. Of course, Remy didn't know that at the -time-.
Doug giggled in amusement at Marie-Ange's disdain and rose from the couch. "Guess it's time for the other one now," he said, quickly swapping the DVDs in his player and returning to the couch.
---
"You almost feel kinda sorry for Jaws at the end there," Doug opined as they watched the ending of Moonraker. "I mean, he finally figures out there's more to life than being a henchman who bites people with his crazy metal mouth, gets a cute girlfriend, and then he winds up stuck on a space station to die. Kind of a bummer."
"I think he gets away in the space shuttle..." Marie-Ange responded. "I like to think he does. But I like to believe in redemption being rewarded." She leaned into Doug and rested her head on his shoulder. "And in happy endings. Which is perhaps not very realistic of me, but at least in what I read and watch, I like to see people happy."
Doug's arm found its way around Marie-Ange's shoulder in a familiar comfortable way, and he smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "I like to believe in happy endings too," he agreed with her. "And in real life, too. I mean, we got a second chance, didn't we?"
There were more than a few things she thought of saying that all sounded much too cynical. And while cynicism had it's place, it was not here or not. So Marie-Ange opted to lean against Doug, quiet and content for the moment.
---
Doug came awake confusedly. He looked over at the alarm clock and saw that it was 2:30 in the morning and blinked sleepily, struggling towards some sort of wakefulness. A whimper from beside him in bed explained why he'd woken up. Marie-Ange was obviously having a nightmare, from the way she was twitching and whimpering. Her nightmares didn't tend to be the violent thrashing about sort, but when you slept with a person as much as Doug had with Marie-Ange, you learned to recognize small things, as he must have even while asleep. Rolling over, he reached a hand down to gently shake her shoulder. "Angie?" he whispered.
Her hand shot out but she missed actually hitting Doug, only glancing off his upper arm. "Right.. here..." Marie-Ange said, and made a fist. Not at, or before the moment of impact, but after, as if she was grabbing something. She pulled her hand back, and then moved as if to push Doug away, and would have, had he not caught her wrists.
She was obviously still in the grip of her nightmare, as her words didn't seem to make any sense to Doug. So he gently grasped her wrists in his, being careful and trying to avoid startling her too badly. "Angie, it's me, Doug. Wake up, it's okay, there's nothing wrong here."
Marie-Ange shook her head, and then opened her eyes, blinking. "No, I ... " She started to say, and then realized that Doug was holding her hands still. "Did I try to hurt you?"
"You almost hit me and kinda tried to push me away," Doug answered her. "But you were still asleep. It's okay." He drew her close into his arms, letting go of her wrists in the process. "Nightmares?" he asked.
"Yes. I am not sure if they were significant or not. Clowns, with razor teeth and cresent moon spotlights. Throwing grenades, but on strings like necklaces. And one tried to attack me. It was very, very strange." Marie-Ange had already reached into Doug's nightstand for the notebook she kept there, and was jotting down quick notes. "And the dream started out so well too, with you in a tuxedo and the James Bond drink..."
"Spin the globe, Angie," Doug told his girlfriend as he lay in his overstuffed chair, feet pointed at the ceiling and head pointed at the floor. He waved his feet back and forth and looked at an upside-down Angie. It was date night, and they'd decided on takeout and movies since neither of them was feeling up to anything more active and social. And so, with the evening's plans set, they needed to figure out what to get for dinner. The globe was the same as the one that resided in the office, and its purpose was the same: to determine what sort of takeout fare would be the evening's meal.
"Someday I am going to rig this so that it avoids Mexico and Thailand." Marie-Ange had already sent one of her imps to go get the globe so that she didn't have to get up off the sofa. Today's imps were black and blue pen sketches from the staff meeting earlier in the week, unfinished and jitttery in their movements.
"And what's wrong with Mexico and Thailand?" Doug asked with a grin. "Both allow me to indulge my penchant for waging savage war on my tastebuds." He chuckled. "And how would you rig a ten-dollar plastic globe anyway? Seems like an awful lot of work to go to in order to not get a couple countries. You could always just spin again..."
The imp brought the globe over and placed it on the floor before disappearing into mist. "Spinning again would be cheating. Otherwise why not just pick something?" Marie-Ange pushed the globe gently, setting it spinning and stuck out her thumb to stop it. "So.. does England determine our food, or our movie? Does the pub deliver?"
"Hm. I dunno. And I don't think the pub delivers," Doug said in reply. "And we're going to have to go out to the movie place anyway, unless we want to watch something we've probably already seen several times." Doug had a rather extensive DVD collection, but together he and Angie had watched a large portion of it. "We could just make it all England tonight and rent some James Bond..." Doug had been playfully aghast that the only James Bond movie Marie-Ange had seen was Casino Royale, and that had been with Doug dragging her to the theater.
"Fish and chips and Sean Connery?" Marie-Ange asked. "Can you call ahead to the pub and order for carry out, while I find my shoes? Your.... chair..." She said the word with an air of intense distaste. "Has eaten one. "
---
Doug hummed the James Bond theme under his breath as he and Marie-Ange wandered into the "action/adventure" section of the local video store. They could have gone to a Blockbuster, but Doug generally liked finding the mom-and-pop sort of stores, much the same as he did with restaurants. James Bond had an entire rack to himself, and Doug looked at Marie-Ange, his hands full of takeout bags. "Pick a couple for us?" he asked.
The rack of movies was far bigger then she'd expected. She had no idea what most of them were about. Marie-Ange knew that Doug had opinons about the actors who had played James Bond though. He'd mentioned it on the way to the pub to pickup their carryout. And then on the walk to the movie store.
Without any other way to guess which movies were good, Marie-Ange shut her eyes and reached out, picking up three at random. One, she recognized the title of. Live and Let Die was well known. She didn't know Moonraker at all, and the third she put back on the shelf. Doug had made his opinion of Timothy Dalton very clear.
"My inner Bond fanboy thanks you for remembering to put The Living Daylights back on the shelf, Angie," Doug told her as they made their way to the register. Some things were just a travesty, and Dalton's pair of efforts as Bond were high on the list.
***
"That was... interesting." Marie-Ange said, as the credits of the movie played on the television. "And strangly familar. I wonder why I have such a feeling of deja vu..." She wasn't sure the movie had aged well, but it had held her attention. "I thought that James Bond drank martinis? Why did he drink something else in that movie?"
"It was the first Bond movie after Connery, they initially tried to distance Moore's Bond from Connery's," Doug explained. "Later on he goes back to drinking the vodka martinis and such." He looked sideways at Marie-Ange with a sly smile. "Deja-vu, huh? Anything in particular seem familiar?" His eyes twinkled mischievously, and the giggle that he'd been suppressing ever since she picked up that particular Bond film off the shelf escaped for a moment.
"A young french woman who can see the future and used tarot cards? No, I think I know nothing of that..." Marie-Ange said idly, and used the moment to steal one of Doug's chips and nibble on it.
"Hey!" Doug objected loudly, grabbing his chip bag and pulling it closer inside the circle of his arms and frowning at Marie-Ange. "That wasn't very nice at all."
"You have better crisps then I do." Marie-Ange said, making grabby hands at the bag. "And you made fun of me about the movie. I get to steal crisps if you make fun of me. There is a rule." She'd taken a bit of a risk with the bag of crisps, and found out that while she liked salt and vinegar on potato wedges and 'fries', it was not a flavor she liked on crisps at all.
"Why is it that every rule seems to involve me getting smacked or stolen from or otherwise abused because I'm the male in this relationship?" Doug asked rhetorically as he ate some more of his chips. "I want to be a woman again so I can make the rules some more," he pouted.
"It is not because you are male. It is because you had the better crisps and made fun of me. If I had the better food and made fun of you, you would get to steal mine." A salt-and-vinegar crisp was flung at Doug to punctutate Marie-Ange's statement. "You knew what that movie was about when I picked it out and did not warn me. If I ... if I found a movie about a computer programmer who was like you and did not warn you, would you not be a little irate?"
"Nah, I'd be amused," Doug replied with a grin, catching the chip and tossing it back at Marie-Ange in an attempt to lodge it in her cleavage. "So, no comments about how Bond wound up getting the girl?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
The crisp landed on Marie-Ange's shoulder, and she picked it off, putting it on her paper plate with an expression of "Ew." "I think that I do not understand why sleeping with him made her lose her precognition. I did not lose mine when I lost my virginity." And it was even to a somewhat disreputable government agent. Of course, Remy didn't know that at the -time-.
Doug giggled in amusement at Marie-Ange's disdain and rose from the couch. "Guess it's time for the other one now," he said, quickly swapping the DVDs in his player and returning to the couch.
---
"You almost feel kinda sorry for Jaws at the end there," Doug opined as they watched the ending of Moonraker. "I mean, he finally figures out there's more to life than being a henchman who bites people with his crazy metal mouth, gets a cute girlfriend, and then he winds up stuck on a space station to die. Kind of a bummer."
"I think he gets away in the space shuttle..." Marie-Ange responded. "I like to think he does. But I like to believe in redemption being rewarded." She leaned into Doug and rested her head on his shoulder. "And in happy endings. Which is perhaps not very realistic of me, but at least in what I read and watch, I like to see people happy."
Doug's arm found its way around Marie-Ange's shoulder in a familiar comfortable way, and he smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "I like to believe in happy endings too," he agreed with her. "And in real life, too. I mean, we got a second chance, didn't we?"
There were more than a few things she thought of saying that all sounded much too cynical. And while cynicism had it's place, it was not here or not. So Marie-Ange opted to lean against Doug, quiet and content for the moment.
---
Doug came awake confusedly. He looked over at the alarm clock and saw that it was 2:30 in the morning and blinked sleepily, struggling towards some sort of wakefulness. A whimper from beside him in bed explained why he'd woken up. Marie-Ange was obviously having a nightmare, from the way she was twitching and whimpering. Her nightmares didn't tend to be the violent thrashing about sort, but when you slept with a person as much as Doug had with Marie-Ange, you learned to recognize small things, as he must have even while asleep. Rolling over, he reached a hand down to gently shake her shoulder. "Angie?" he whispered.
Her hand shot out but she missed actually hitting Doug, only glancing off his upper arm. "Right.. here..." Marie-Ange said, and made a fist. Not at, or before the moment of impact, but after, as if she was grabbing something. She pulled her hand back, and then moved as if to push Doug away, and would have, had he not caught her wrists.
She was obviously still in the grip of her nightmare, as her words didn't seem to make any sense to Doug. So he gently grasped her wrists in his, being careful and trying to avoid startling her too badly. "Angie, it's me, Doug. Wake up, it's okay, there's nothing wrong here."
Marie-Ange shook her head, and then opened her eyes, blinking. "No, I ... " She started to say, and then realized that Doug was holding her hands still. "Did I try to hurt you?"
"You almost hit me and kinda tried to push me away," Doug answered her. "But you were still asleep. It's okay." He drew her close into his arms, letting go of her wrists in the process. "Nightmares?" he asked.
"Yes. I am not sure if they were significant or not. Clowns, with razor teeth and cresent moon spotlights. Throwing grenades, but on strings like necklaces. And one tried to attack me. It was very, very strange." Marie-Ange had already reached into Doug's nightstand for the notebook she kept there, and was jotting down quick notes. "And the dream started out so well too, with you in a tuxedo and the James Bond drink..."
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