You won't believe me if I say I loved every word, will you? Which is a shame, really, because it's true. Call me a crazy groupie, but I love every word you write. In fact, if you happen to notice some tall brunette someday going through your recycle bin and stealing your discarded scraps of fic, pay her no mind...
*cough*
So, as I was saying...
I'm going against my usual MO here and I'm not going to "comment as I go" because... well, first off, I was laughing too hard - seriously, laptop kept trying to slide off my lap when I was half doubled over, then there was the knee-slapping and the hand clapping over the mouth. (Hmm... maybe you should put a warning on the story: Caution - Reading may involve rigorous exercise). Anyway, the other reason is that I'd really have to quote everything, or damn near, at least.
I will, however, quote one little bit:
“What are you going to tell her?” he heard a voice suspiciously like his own ask.
Rats.
It was his voice. Not that it meant anything. He was a reporter. He asked things. Investigated stuff...
Classic CC Stuff! You ought to trademark it, really.
Oh, and while I'm here... just wanted to say thank you because I'd been DYING for another CC fic.
So... when's the next story, eh??
Sara (who apologises for the non-sensical rambling, but hopes she got her point* across)
*The point: CC ROCKS!!!!!
