The first takes place in England while all the rest are in the US.

1812-

On her walk, Elizabeth had thought it strange to hear hoof beats coming her way, but she thought no more about it, until a terrified whinny pierced the air. The beast was not far away and Elizabeth ran blindly towards the noise. She already knew there was little she could do.

The horse was sprawled out, it's legs bent in awkward, gross angles. The poor animal could not last more than a few hours. The rider let out a soft groan and she decided that it must be masculine. She could see that the horse's body was covering most of the man's legs and lower body. With quick worried steps she rushed to his side.

"Sir? Can you hear me, sir? Are you injured…? Mr. Darcy!" Her exclamation was partially due to her just recognizing the gentleman and partly due to the bright crimson she could see soaking the ground around him. She knelt down beside him.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said weakly. "I must be dead, for you are surely an angel." He coughed roughly into his handkerchief and a small spot of red appeared on it. He tried to hide it before she could see it, but it was too late.

"Why are you here, you were supposed to be in London." As she spoke, she was looking for his injury, but there was so much blood she could not tell where it spouted from.

"My aunt told me of her meeting with you. I must say it did the opposite of what she intended. It thought me to hope." He began coughing again and the handkerchief was stained with more blood.

"What about Lydia? I must thank you for taking on such trouble and mortification. To do such after my heated and misjudged abuse of you was truly admirable." Darcy's eyes fluttered against the pain and darkness that was ever growing, but he reached out for Elizabeth's hand and it was her touch that allowed him to fight.

"Whatever I have done, I have done for you. My feelings if anything have only grown since the spring. I am ready to openly declare that I love you." He closed his eyes for a second and brought her hand to his lips. When he opened his eyes, her eyes were pooling with unshed tears and she pulled their intertwined hands up and pressed them to her heart.

"Then I will declare it openly as well to anyone and everyone I meet. I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy." Darcy's eyelids drooped and a contented smile rose to his face.

"Then all is as it should be." His contentment could not be shared by Elizabeth.

"How can it be? You are dying!" Darcy fully opened his eyes again with some effort and while gazing at her with loving eyes, he spoke his last words.

"Have faith, we will meet again." Elizabeth bowed her head and tears fell from her eyes on to his torn riding coat. Darcy gave a final sigh and his head fell back slowly. Elizabeth felt his hand gently squeeze hers just before it went limp.

Elizabeth lived the rest of her life as a spinster, living off the generosity of both Jane and her newly declared sister, Georgiana. She became a loving aunt to both of their children, but never had a child of her own.

1862-

It was the time of the civil war, a bloody and miserable time. Not a place where one would expect romance, but somehow in the midst of this war, two souls managed to find each other. But fate conspired to separate them. Darcy had enlisted in the army and was off to fight the confederates. He promised her that if she would wait for him they would marry the second he returned home.

Every day after he left, Elizabeth searched the papers for news of him, either good or bad. He was never mentioned. It wasn't until almost a year later, on the day Darcy was to return, that Elizabeth was visited by one of his old friends who had fought beside him in many battles. He told her tales of their victories, but in the end he could no longer put off the telling of Darcy's final battle.

It was at The Battle of Chancellorsville that Darcy had been fatally wounded. With his last breath he begged his friend to deliver a letter to his love. Darcy's friend produced the letter and left, eager to be reunited with his own family. With shaking fingers, Elizabeth tore open the letter.

My dearest Elizabeth,

I write this letter for fear I will not survive to tell you these things myself. I have seen many die here and I know that I have been spared out of nothing more than luck. I hope that you will never have to read this letter, but I cannot trust my luck to hold for an entire year. But my slim chances at survival are not what I wished to write to you about. No, I write this as a reminder to you once again of how much I love you.

Army life provides much time to think as we sit and wait for orders or the enemy. I wanted you to know that my every thought has been of you. The terrors of war have driven some of my companions mad, but I do not see them. Your face is the only picture my mind possesses.

My other motive to write this was I wanted to wish you a final goodbye.

It is as hard for me to write this as I expect it is for you to read it, but, just remember, we will meet again.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

1917-

The world was once again a war torn mess, as the Great War raged in Europe. The US could not stay out of the war indefinitely and so men were being recruited all the time, but it still wasn't enough. Stories of the horrors of the war were not unknown to the US citizens and they were not fool enough to go to what was more than likely a death sentence. Without enough troops to send to Europe, the United States instituted a draft.

It was at this same time that the two lost, loving souls had found each other again. This time all looked to be as it should as William did not resister to the military. Yet, fate, with another of its cruel tricks, pulled them apart again. William was drafted and he left for the war after exchanging a tearful goodbye with the love of his life.

At the end of the war, William couldn't believe he was still alive. Against the near impossible odds, he had managed to survive the Great War and was coming home. Not only was he alive, but he still had his wits about him. The war had scarred others beyond repair, but not him. He dealt with the gruesome sight he had seen by drawing up the image of Elizabeth to his mind. She was waiting for him. There was only one more day of travel until they were together.

What William could not know was that Elizabeth had gotten sick. When he stepped through her door, she was nearly gone. The Spanish Influenza had killed thousands and she would soon be among their ranks.

"Elizabeth," he cried falling heavily into the chair next to her bed.

"William," she croaked her eyes glazed over. A hand reached from under her blanket and groped for his. He held it tightly with both of his. "I'm dying." William inhaled sharply and shook his head.

"No, you cannot die. I… I will not let you. There must be a cure. We can find it." Her pressure on his hand was the only thing that kept him sitting.

"I will be dead before you could do anything." William leaned down to bury his face in her hair.

"No, no, no. This is not how things should be."

"William, it is my time." She turned her head to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Do not be afraid, we will meet again." With a final sigh, her breath left her body and she fell into the eternal sleep.

William, having to deal both with the scars of war and the death of his love, had an emotional breakdown that landed him quickly in a mental hospital. He was afflicted with the Spanish Flu not long after, but he survived. It was not until quite a few years later that he too departed this world.

1961-

The Vietnam War was a terrible war. At home, protests of the war were everywhere. Yet, it was not on the sidelines that the lovers found each other again. No, this time they found each other in the midst of the war. Unlike most of the recruits, who had joined the war for patriotism or for the adventure, both Liz and William felt that they had lost something dear and joining the army was the only way to reclaim it. They were right, for not long after they finished training, they found each other and they suddenly knew what they had been searching for.

Things were not well even then, as Liz was sent on dangerous missions without him, or even back at the camp she was forced to face the sexual harassment of the other male recruits. William could do nothing as they could tell no one that they were in love.

It was on a routine mission that everything went wrong. William, Liz and about twenty others were ambushed and attacked. No one died in the initial attack, but they were trapped and with only enough food to last about two days. Liz, being a woman and expendable in the eyes of the US Army, was ordered to make an attempt back to base. She was shot before she had gone more than fifteen paces.

William disobeyed orders and crawled to her side. Her stomach was gushing blood.

"Liz," he whispered, cradling her head in his lap. "I love you." His hand gently stroked her pale face.

"I know. This war has been nothing but horror after horror. You have always been my one bright spot of light in the darkness." She let out a shuddering breath and her eyes began to close.

"And you were always mine, but will you leave me now to face this all alone?" Her eyes opened again slowly and she drew a labored breath.

"You are never alone." Her hand reached up for his and grabbed at it weakly. "I will always be with you no matter what. Have courage, William. We will meet again." Her eyes fell closed and her hand went limp in his and dropped heavily to the dirt floor around them.

William did not see any more of the war. He was court marshaled for his direct and deliberate disobeying of orders. He spent many years in prison, but he could always look to the bright spot of light that was Liz's love and memory. She was right, he was never alone.

2010-

It had been almost two hundred years since the two lovers had been separated the first time and they were beginning to become weary. They called to each other, but there were nearly seven billion people in the world. With so many people in the world, their finding each other was a near statistical impossibility. But love can cross many boundaries which other emotions cannot.

They met on a street corner in the middle of a crowded New York block. Both were on their way to lunch from their jobs in one of the bleak colorless skyscrapers that flooded the city. Beth, as she had grown to be called, was talking on her cell phone and near oblivious to the world around her. Finally she looked up and straight into Will's eyes. At that very moment something connected and Beth shut her phone with a click, completely disregarding the person she had hung up on.

They began talking as they waited for the light to change and as they crossed the street, but once on the other side things grew awkward.

"I usually go down here," Beth said, pointing in the opposite direction that he was going.

"Oh, right. Well, I guess I'll see you around?" Will said not wanting to leave her.

"Don't worry, we will meet again." Those four words were all it took for the souls to recognize each other. Beth turned and began regretfully walking away, but stopped as a hand wrapped around her arm.

"I don't want to wait any more. Can I come have lunch with you instead?" With a beaming smile, Beth agreed. Over lunch they discovered their similar fascination with history. Will could tell stories of World War One as though he had actually fought in it and Beth related tales of 19th century England as if she had grown up there.

After lunch neither wanted to part, so they took a mini vacation from work. They walked through Central Park for hours before they found a neat little museum to check out. Once they had finished there, Will asked Beth to dinner which she quickly accepted. He took her to a nice restaurant and they sat in a private, intimate booth.

"Beth, are you sure we haven't met before?" Will asked her as they waited for their meal to arrive.

"I really don't know. You seem kind of familiar, but if we had met before you'd think I would have remembered you."

"That's what I'm feeling too." They trailed off into silence and blurry images began to appear in their minds.

Beth saw a man half way covered by a horse, with blood seeping into the ground all around him. In Will's mind two images presented themselves. The first was of a dark haired woman lying in a bed, obviously dying of some illness. The other showed a girl in a military outfit that was stained with blood. The darkest spot of blood was at her stomach where more blood was gushing.

Throughout these images two names filled their heads. Unconsciously both spoke them aloud in a whisper.

"Elizabeth."

"Fitzwilliam."

Their eyes locked on each other again. Both quickly understood that the person from the images was sitting across from them.

"Elizabeth," he began, using her newly remembered name," I know we have known each other for less than a day, but I feel as though I have known you for several lifetimes. I'm not sure how, but I simply know that I love you, have always loved you and will never stop loving you. I know this is crazy, but, will you marry me?"

"It's not crazy, Fitzwilliam, I feel the same. I love you and will gladly marry you."

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, as they chose to be called from then on, were married two weeks later. Never again did either utter the phrase 'we will meet again', but that was because they were never apart. Even when their time came to leave this world, their love bound them together and they never parted again.

This is my present to you. Hope you enjoyed. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!