A/N: I know, I know, P&P has been overused and manipulated, but how can you not love Lizzie and Darcy? Review and let me know how I'm doing. Thanks.


Since birth and probably before, I've always caved whenever my amazingly wonderful twin sister batted her big blue eyes. It's just that look-she doesn't even have to say anything and I just give into her demands. How do you think she was born five minutes before me? Clearly she's been working on this technique since conception. Plus there was the time I ran out in front of a moving vehicle because Fluffy was suicidal and fled out the front door. ("Jane, I seriously could have died back there." "But, Lizzie, the cat- what about Fluffy's life? Plus, you did survive.") Okay, I didn't die, but still, I would do anything for my sister, because she's Jane – beautiful, sweet, and kindhearted, Jane.

When she asked if I would go with her to see some stupid musical, I was adamant that I would not even step foot in the theatre.

"No, Jane," I urged, "I hate musicals. Remember my glory days in Pinocchio when they kicked me out because I was destroying 'the splendor' by making faces in the background? I'm scarred for life. I can't get those childhood memories back."

"Lizzie, you attacked Pinocchio," Jane reminded, scrubbing a cookie sheet as I peered into the refrigerator, pondering what we would eat for dinner.

"He stole my cookie during snack time – during rehearsal seemed like the perfect time to punch his lights out." I made a face as I saw a container of expired Greek yogurt sitting in the corner. I tossed it into the trash can, while mentally making a list of things to purchase on our next shopping trip. Food, in general, probably.

"Oh the glorious days of third grade." She handed me the cookie sheet and a towel. "Your turn to dry the dishes."

"Fine, fine, fine," I grumbled and yanked it out of her hands, before plopping down at the bar stool near the counter.

"So, will you go?" Jane asked softly.

"Noooo, I hate musicals, remember? I just emphasized that fact. Plus, this musical is bound to have children running through the aisles popping up in your face."

"I won the tickets, though. They were free."

Of course, I'm the one to blame – sort of – because she kept complaining about how she should call in to the radio and answer the question to win. And, because I love my sister dearly, I had to encourage her. "Oh, Jane, just call, you know the answer." "But, what if I sound stupid on air?" "People will be laughing at your expense for years to come."

"Aren't you the one always saying that we poor college kids should take advantage of freebies?" Jane asked, her eyes nearly bulging with excitement, because she thinks she has me roped in. "Remember, we shared a womb."

"The children, Jane! And, why do you have to use that as blackmail? We shared a womb," I mocked her favorite line and she pinched my nose fondly. I had to love her.

First off, Jane has that whole "skipping through flowers, singing happy songs" vibe. And where that whole peppy thing is usually disconcerting, on Jane it is catching, because she's just so darn cute. You'd think I'd be jealous since she is the most beautiful of us five sisters, but you can't be. She doesn't even fully realize that she is beautiful, which makes it so much harder to think bad about her. Plus, she has that terribly overbearing motherly instinct where when you come home from a bad day, you want to crawl onto her lap and tell her everything and let her stroke your hair or rub your back.

"Did I mention the crappy quality?" I spouted.

"Crappy quality?" Jane repeated, bewildered.

"Cinderella looks like a frickin' man. Have you seen the billboards around town? That's just disturbing. Imagine the dreams crushed when they realize that Cinderella's a man. How are parents going to explain kissing scenes between Cinderella and Prince Charming? I don't want to be there when the young viewers have their hopes shattered when they see some nice male action on stage."

Jane looked at me with big doe eyes, torn between perplexity and amusement. "Lizzie, come on."

"No, I refuse!" I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest like a petulant child. "I will not go!"

"Lizzie, please." Now the whining has begun. And she's batting those ocean eyes again.

I stomped my feet for dramatics and sigh loudly, annoyed. "Fine! But if you won an aisle seat, it's all yours!"

Jane squealed, throwing her arms around me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Air!" I managed and she let me go, smoothing her shirt. "Love you, twin!" Jane kissed my forehead and padded down the hall to her room.

Manipulator, she preys on the weak.