First Impressions
Rated: T
Disclaimer: You can't prove anything. (Wait, yes you can. Poop.)

- Kiss From An Angel -

What was that smell? That noise? Who was groaning?

It took Elizabeth about two minutes to realize the smell was that of burning wood, the noise was the fire devouring said wood, and the person groaning was herself. Upon inhaling smoke, her moans broke apart into coughs, and her eyes opened violently to loud colors and the bee stings of smoke on top of recognizing the signals shooting through her body as pain.

Where was she?

Elizabeth knew she was sitting on a wooden chair, and when she tried to stand up she realized why her shoulders throbbed and her arms felt awkward; her arms had apparently been viciously thrown over the high back of the chair to be tied to it. Her legs, similarly, at her ankles, were also tied to the chair with an abrasive rope. Despite the odd situation, her first instinct was to call for help instead of trying to answer all the questions running amok in her head that she'd usually want to answer right away.

"H-help! Someone – anyone! Call 911 or something!" Her crows fell short from the milling smoke and the dryness of Elizabeth's throat. Screaming had awakened the headache she hadn't yet realized was there, and she hissed in discomfort. Amongst the crackling feast from the fire, Elizabeth heard someone else's coughing – a man's, most likely, from the deepness of it.

"I'm in here!" It felt like a bad action movie to Elizabeth as someone opened the door she'd never noticed before, a halo of smoke wreathing around even darker black curls.

"I'm here, Kitten." His voice was cracking, just like hers, but it was much lower in timbre. Elizabeth couldn't focus on the man, but she could tell he was tall and cradling his right shoulder.

"I'm here, Kitten, to help you. It's okay… I'm going to untie you…" The voice, soft and gentle, was in her ear now as the man quickly moved behind Elizabeth, fingers slick with something sticky, struggling with the knotted rope keeping her wrists bound to the chair. A few muttered curses later, the man freed her wrists and moved down to the ground to get Elizabeth's ankles free of their constraints, all the while murmuring, "I'm here, Kitten, don't be scared… it's okay… I won't let anything hurt you."

- (One month earlier) -

Elizabeth ducked her head below the luggage rack, finding her seat next to the plane window. Letting her messenger bag fall to the floor before kicking it beneath her chair, Elizabeth fell into her seat. She didn't pay much attention as the plane filled up, but she was rapt when the stewardess was giving the mandatory safety instructions. Generally, Elizabeth was one to ignore them, but since it was her first time flying alone not as a minor, she thought it'd be best to listen. After the stewardess finished, Elizabeth pulled her iPod from her bag and put her headphones in, making herself comfortable; it wasn't too long before she was soundly asleep.

"Daddy, daddy, can I go buy an ice cream?" Tiny little Elizabeth Bennet asked, tugging on her father's hand and pointing towards the vendor with an ice cream cart. Wayne looked to where the small digit was pointing, seeing the vendor in question was still in eyesight although moving out of it.

"Sure, Liz-Bear. Come back swiftly, you hear?" He said, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out his wallet. As neither he nor Elizabeth knew how much an ice cream could cost, Wayne handed the whole leather-bound object to her, unaware of the teenagers watching near by. Wayne knew his daughter was unusually sharp and responsible for her mere six years and thought relatively nothing of letting her go chase down the vendor on her own since he was quite used to that sort of thing happening; besides, it was noon in a crowded park with many families meandering about. Nothing could possibly harm his little girl.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Elizabeth laughed in giddy delight, taking her father's wallet in her small hands, skipping her way over to the ice cream cart. Three teenaged boys, all of whom towered over her, intercepted Elizabeth in her quest, however, before she could reach the planned destination; she was also already out of her father's eyesight.

"Hey, getting some ice cream?" The tallest of the boys asked, voice cheerful despite his mean countenance. Elizabeth smiled naively up at him, putting the hands that contained Wayne's wallet behind her back, rolling on the balls of her feet clad in just bright pink flip flops decorated with sparkly butterflies.

"Mmhmmmm. But my daddy told me not to talk to strangers." Elizabeth replied coyly, about to go around the gaggle of boys when the one closest to her grabbed her arm with a grip so tight it caused a bruise to appear the next day.

"We're not strangers. We can take you to cheaper ice cream if you just follow us." He said in what he assumed was a kind voice, ignorant of how painful his grip was.

"No, my daddy wants me to not to talk to strangers." Elizabeth replied, putting a brave face on in spite of her pain. The boy who spoke first snorted, taking her other arm, pulling her forward slightly with the help of his friend.

"Your daddy would love you if you save him a bit of dough, you know." He tried to console her, not liking the way Elizabeth was protesting and dragging her feet. The third boy who hadn't done anything yet was looking around nervously, keeping an eye out for adults who might butt in; he completely mistook the boy nearing them as one going somewhere else and not interested in what they were doing.

"Hey, come on now, shut up and just follow us!" The tallest one, a violent lad, hissed, free arm going back to slap Elizabeth. His hand never connected with her; a boy interrupted it, jumping up from his scrawny height and taking the teenager's arm down with the element of surprise coupled with his meager weight.

"She doesn't want to go with you, if you didn't notice." An English accent highlighted his cracking, defiant voice. Although he was a teenager himself, he was a good deal shorter than the older teens and much, much skinnier; he resembled a rail, or a leaf blowing in the wind compared to the older boys' more lean builds. Elizabeth noticed he was even slimmer than herself.

"The hell? Get outta the way, brat!"

"No."

The one word caused chaos. Already incensed by Elizabeth's struggling, the violent boy curled his hands into fists and landed one, two, three, four punches on Elizabeth's savior before his two friends were pulling him back, telling him to stop, that he was gathering the attention of the adults. She didn't watch the three louts run away; instead, her eyes fell onto the boy who'd helped her as he fell forward onto his knees, clutching his ribs and coughing up bits of spittle tainted with blood coming from his split lip; it dribbled down the cleft in his chin before dripping onto his once pristine t-shirt. He'd been socked once in the eye, mouth, and twice in the stomach.

"Thank you." Elizabeth said quietly, forgetting her surroundings when her rescuer looked up, giving her a good look at his face. Despite the cut oozing blood on his lip and his red, puffy eye that'd bruise over soon, his face was beautiful, accented by the startling silver pair of eyes and the mop of golden curls. The boy truly resembled an angel – a hurt one at that.

"I'll be okay, lass. Let's get you that ice cream with out any more louses heckling you, yeah?" He suggested softly, one arm still cradling his ribs when he stood, the other outstretched, palm skyward, to Elizabeth. Because he'd helped her and wasn't grabbing at her but presenting the option of touching him, Elizabeth trusted the boy she was calling "Angel" in her head; she smiled exultantly up at him and took the warm hand in her own, swinging them back and forth between their bodies. Angel stayed with her, saying he was her brother's best mate watching out for he while he visited the loo when questioned by the ice cream vendor, and led her back the way she'd come from.

"You look like an angel, you know." Elizabeth said when she spotted her father, taking her attention off of her ice cream for the first time since receiving it, looking up at Angel once more. He laughed, the sound bouncing between that of a boy's and that of a man's, head thrown back in mirth.

"I can assure you, little miss, I'm far from it. But, since you see me as such, I'll give you a kiss from an angle for good luck." Angel said once he'd stopped laughing, stooping down and pressing his lips against Elizabeth's cheek. They were soft but chapped, creating a little bit of a prickle against her skin. When Angel pulled back, he used the hand not grasping Elizabeth's to wipe away the smudge of blood from his split lip, being the gentlest he had been yet.

"I bet that's your dad, isn't it? He's going to wonder who I am. I'll see you, yeah?" With that, Angel was gone, dashing away as fast as he could while Wayne walked briskly over to his daughter, concern etched onto his face. He could see the red mark on Elizabeth's bicep and wondered what had happened.

"Who was that, Elizabeth?" Wayne asked, tone harsher than he wanted. Elizabeth craned her neck back to stare up at his eyes, finding them a dull brown compared to Angel's.

"An angel."

And she explained her tale, making her father feel guilty for ever accusing the boy mentally for any wrongdoings. Over the course of the week, Elizabeth begged to go the same park, but her parents were reluctant in taking her there because of the incident. Exactly a week afterwards, she saw Angel again right before she was leaving for a month-long, end-of-summer camping trip cut off from civilization with her Aunt Mari and Uncle Eddie visiting from England.

"The casualties include the almost fourteen-year-old heir to the Darcy Corporation, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and…" The newswoman was saying, but her words were lost on Elizabeth as she stared at the screen. There was her Angel, listed under the casualties from a fire on a private boat that had been in the Atlantic Ocean; only after she'd asked what a casualty was did Elizabeth become melancholy.

"How ironic," Elizabeth, now at the age of twenty-one, thought, yawning and stretching in her seat. The time she'd dream about Angel was the time she was on a plane, the first one she was riding alone in. She'd spent most of the duration of her flight sleeping. Ever since she was a girl, Elizabeth had dreamed of moving to England; now, she was getting the next best thing, in her opinion: moving in with her English aunt and uncle who had moved to New York. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't because she remembered Angel having an English accent but hadn't quite assured herself yet that that was true.

Elizabeth had woken up because the stewardess had shaken her until she did, saying that they were landing soon and she should put on her seatbelt. She lost track of time after that in the hubbub of landing, getting off among the crowd, finding her luggage, and then finding the man whom her Aunt Mari and Uncle Eddie had sent to pick her up. They would have been there with all five of their children had not the middle child of their triplets, James, broken his arm during the time she was up in the air. After ten minutes or so of searching the parking lot for a man who resembled "a male version of Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter" (her Aunt Mari's words exactly), Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone and scrolled down in her contacts until the name Bill Gates popped up. She hadn't been told the man's name, just "Bill", and had decided to have a little fun in dubbing him until she learned it.

The phone rang three times exactly before a nasally voice crooned, "'Ello?" Scrunching her nose and knowing giving the man the name of "Bill Gates", even in jest, was doing injustice to the actual man, Elizabeth detested to answer and wondered what face could possibly match with the voice. Suddenly, "a man who resembled Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter" didn't seem like a hyperbole at all.

"Um, yes, hello. This is Elizabeth Bennet, and I—"

"O', Miss Eliza, 'ow wonderful that you've called. I 'eard your flight 'ad landed, but I 'aven't seen your pretty face yet, bird." Even though she hadn't heard many English accents in real life and knew some could sound that heavy, Elizabeth knew he was faking it for her.

"First of all, drop the completely phony accent. Second of all, don't you dare call me a bird or Eliza. Third of all, where the hell are you? I've been searching for you for a while now." She snapped, wincing slightly; her New Years resolution (for the past couple of years) had been to not get offended so easily and stop jumping to conclusions (which she hadn't been able to do, ever). There was a slight coughing on the other end before Bill went on.

"Yes, well, Mariabella said you enjoyed heavy English accents…" Elizabeth's face went blank, the thought, "He's hitting on me?" running through her head like the woman in a horror film fleeing from the murderer or evil monster.

"Anyways, I believe I see you, Miss Eliza…" A few seconds of silent fuming later, Elizabeth jumped in surprise when a hand fell onto her shoulder, accompanied by that awful voice asking if she was "Miss Eliza." She turned around slowly, shrugging the hand off, not too surprised by the man's appearance; her aunt had not, in fact, overstated it but had hit it on the bull's-eye. Bill was a stout man with his size belying his dishonesty about being addicted to sweets, a heavy muffin top breaching the top of his trousers, and greasy, dank hair smoothed over his skull; because of the grease, Elizabeth wasn't sure if his hair was black or brown. His face had acne scars and a pouchy look, with rat-like teeth poking out slightly over his slim bottom lip, and the only pretty thing about him, it seemed, was his eyes: they were a clear, startling Granny Smith apple green. He was even shorter than her mere 5'3 frame, though not by much!

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, finally, Miss Eliza. I'm William Collins III, but everyone calls me Bill. From what Mariabella and Eadbard have told me of you, I feel as if I've already known you for years." Bill said, giving a slight bow and holding out his hand. Elizabeth tried not to let her nose scrunch up once more as she tentatively shook his hand, making a mental note to wash her hands meticulously at the nearest chance she got.

"Well, I have no idea who you are, so can you just take me to the hospital the Gardiners are at?" Elizabeth said, adding, "Please," as an afterthought. Bill frowned slightly before nodding, leading her in the one direction she hadn't gone to a tiny, beaten car that was easily overlooked.

"Your chariot, Miss Eliza." Bill said, leering at her and opening the passenger seat's door. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow, shivering slightly as she dumped her bags into the front seat and then opened the door to the back seats to sit. Bill sulked but said nothing, getting to the driver's seat and starting up his car; the whole way to the hospital he tried to get Elizabeth to have a conversation with him. She only gave him monosyllabic sounds that didn't quite count as words. At the hospital, Elizabeth was able to shake Bill off after his incessant inquiries if she actually could carry all her bags and if she could find her family by herself by telling him the wrong area and that she wanted a drink.

"I'm so sorry about him, Lizzie. He saw your picture one day, and Bill wouldn't let this opportunity drop. It's wrong of me, but I think James' arm was broken because of him. James won't say a word." Mariabella said as soon as she saw Elizabeth, looking quite apologetic. The boy in question was finally getting a cast on in a room with his father and siblings next to him; Mariabella had stayed outside for Elizabeth.

"What did you say he did at your work, again?" Elizabeth asked, following her aunt to the small room already filled past its' limits with Gardiners.

"He was the janitor. Eadbard and I decided to fire him today because of what happened with James. We left them alone for five minutes, and suddenly James' arm is broken and he won't say anything. Nothing. The poor lad is mu— well, it couldn't last forever." Mariabella said, finishing upon entering a room where James was saying he wanted a black cast because black was the new black and looked really cool.

"Izzy is here!"

"IZZY!"

She wasn't sure which of the Gardiner girls had screamed first, but soon four of the five Gardiner children were crowding around her, hugging her legs and waist.

"Hey, guys, let me put my stuff down, yeah?" Elizabeth asked, laughing with Mariabella, trying to remember when she said, "Yeah?" at the end of a sentence. She blamed it on the dream about Angel.

"Yeah! James broke his arm being daft, did'ja know?" The first born of the triplets and therefore the oldest (by a few minutes) of all the Gardiner children, Shane, cackled. He, James, and Connor looked like their father with dark ginger hair and ice blue eyes, showing off their Irish roots; freckles were smeared across their noses, cheeks, and extremities.

"Naw, that fat rat broke 'is arm, Shane!" The youngest of the triplets, Connor, disagreed. Mariabella gave Elizabeth a look that said, "See what I mean?" before the two boys started bickering; Eadbard had to break them up. While the boys fought, Bonnie and Noelle, the girls, were able to climb into Elizabeth's lap, as she'd sat down after dropping her bags safely in a corner. The nurse wrapping James' arm was grinning, holding back laughter at the large family, having a hard time concentrating on keeping his arm straight because of them.

"Hello, girls. You know I'm going to be living in New York with y'all now? And Bonnie, are you missing a tooth? You're both getting so big!" Elizabeth said, spotting a gap in Bonnie's grin as both girls wriggled happily one her thighs.

"Yes an' yes! The toof faerie came by, too!" Bonnie giggled, zealous her cousin had noticed the change in her smile. It was the first tooth she'd lost, and she was making sure the whole world knew.

"I wanna loose a toof!" Noelle whimpered, the youngest of all five at only four. Bonnie was six, almost seven, and the triplets were all just barely past nine.

"You will soon, Noelle, promise. Now, who wants to play patty-cake?" Elizabeth said, hoping to distract the girls so their parents could concentrate on the triplets. Three patty-cake games later and one hair-pulling for being out of synch, James was finally done getting his cast, and the Gardiners led Elizabeth to their car. Eadbard carried her bags since James wanted a piggyback ride from her as he'd been neglected while he was getting his cast on. The ride to the Gardiner's messy abode was filled by the kids asking Elizabeth questions she was more than happy to answer, most unlike her ride from the airport to the hospital, ranging from if she knew who the tooth fairy was to why she'd moved to New York.

Mariabella distracted her children from Elizabeth when they reached the house with lunch while Eadbard helped Elizabeth move into the girls' room. Even though he was a lawyer that made a good yearly sum, Eadbard had decided with Mariabella to have a small, quaint house and to not spoil their children (or themselves) rotten because they wanted a large family. Large families equaled high education bills, and with Mariabella quitting her job and becoming a stay-at-home-mum, something had to give. Because of their intentionally limited housing costs, the Gardiners only had a three bedroom, three and a half bathroom apartment. Upon asking to live with them until she had a steady income and a nice place picked out, Elizabeth had been warned, "Either you kip on the couch or stay with Bonnie and Noelle on a bunk." Seeing as an actual bed was better than a couch, even if she could fit on either option because she was short, Elizabeth chose the latter option.

"They'll be nosy, you know."

"I know, Unlce Eddie."

"You'll not have any privacy."

"I know, Uncle Eddie."

"The triplets will come in more often than not."

"I know, Uncle Eddie."

"We didn't mean to sound quite so hostile on the phone, Lizzie, it's just—"

"I know, Uncle Eddie. Thank you for letting me stay with y'all anyways."

"We love you, Lizzie."

"I love y'all, too, Uncle Eddie."

- (One month later) -

Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and did a little twirl. Somehow, she felt like one of the princesses decorating the room she shared with her two younger cousins. The image was hard to picture as she was in all black, had temporarily dyed her hair black, and had a cat tail, paws, and ears on. It must have been the dress. It had to be the dress.

The dress was a little black concoction put together with a designer label, delicate and flowing off her shoulder. It dropped off somewhere around the middle of her thighs, but it was still long enough to cover the black spandex shorts Elizabeth had donned to cool her anxieties about flashing someone accidentally. It dipped low into her cleavage, giving anyone who looked a view of seemingly endless creamy skin, emphasized by a deep amber collar jingling around her neck, almost hidden by the cascading curls of her hair. The dress cinched under her bust but flowed seamlessly to give a shadow of what was underneath, and a crooked belt the same color of the cat collar was draped over her hips. Attached to the belt was her tail, and up, hidden in her hair was the headband that Elizabeth had attached a pair of fuzzy black cat ears with smoky gray insides; the only make up Elizabeth had on was centered around her eyes, the eye shadow she'd donned matching the smoky gray and the mascara highlighting her deep green eyes. For paws, she had on elbow length gloves that she'd outfitted with a light coating of fur-like material.

"You look beautiful, sweetie."

Elizabeth jumped, turning to face her aunt framed in the doorway, smiling.

"Thanks, Aunt Mari. I don't happen to know… thank you, again." Elizabeth laughed, watching her aunt pull the pair of black flats she'd been missing for the past half hour out form behind her back.

"Noelle had, um, 'borrowed' them 'with permission' for her dress up game with Bonnie." Mariabella explained, rolling her eyes playfully, walking over to Elizabeth and handing her the missing shoes.

"Tell me again about this party? I know Jane has a good heart, but this is… I mean, the dress…" Mariabella trailed off, gesturing hopelessly at the dress neither she nor Elizabeth could afford.

"Jane said it's my early Christmas present; I plan on somehow giving it back after tonight. I didn't have to get into the party with designer duds – see these gloves and those shoes? And the cat collar that is literally a cat collar? – she just thought I'd look good in it when we went shopping the other weekend. Jane wants me to meet her husband and their friends… it's a party, my first in New York, so I don't see a problem. I promise I'll come in quietly when I come home so I don't wake anyone." Elizabeth said with an air of indifference while inwardly she had the same concerns. Jane Bingley came from a crowd with seven zeros or more behind their names while Elizabeth had been lucky to meet someone with five behind their yearly income. She was the sweetest woman one could ever meet, but Jane didn't understand how anyone she knew could not accept Elizabeth just because she didn't have any zeros at all.

Elizabeth had met Jane the first day at her new job in a little bookstore. Jane couldn't find a book and asked Elizabeth for help; the two ended up looking throughout the whole store for a book that wasn't there anymore because someone had bought the last copy the previous day. However, they'd ended up talking the whole time, becoming fast friends. Jane was 23 and taking a year off her studies to spend with her new husband, Charles Bingley. Over the course of the month, because of Elizabeth's work and school hours and Charlie's own school and work hours, Elizabeth hadn't met Charles but had met Jane more than six times for lunch (not including the shopping sprees Jane insisted Elizabeth join her on where she found out about their spending differences).

"Hey, kiddo, if you're drinking tonight, leave the car there and call a cab." Mariabella said as Elizabeth slipped on her shoes, grabbed her small messenger bag that contained all that a purse would and more, and left the room.

"Got'cha, Aunt Mari!" Elizabeth called over her shoulder before leaving, borrowing her relative's minivan. Even though parking was a bitch, Jane promised there would be plenty of space at her and Charles' house. Elizabeth punched in the address Jane gave her to the GPS and followed the directions it said in Yoda's voice (Eadbard's obsession that was rubbing off on all his children) until she came up to the long drive way leading to a mansion.

1813 Netherfield Park Drive was just about what Elizabeth half expected. Given whom she was married to and how she spoke of Charles' friends, Elizabeth wasn't the least bit surprised Jane lived in a place like this. Even if she weren't expecting something grand, the slow drive from the packed-like-sardine apartments and condos spreading out to houses, then large properties, then gigantic houses on even bigger properties would have given her a hint. There was even a group of valets at the door to drive the cars of the Bingley's guests to the garage. Elizabeth wouldn't have been surprised if a butler was the first person she saw inside the doors, but a caped crusader was her welcoming committee.

"Hey, lassie! Nice." From the green tights, red shirt with green sleeves, completed with black and yellow cape, Elizabeth was pretty sure the English man was dressed Robin. Even though he had nice wavy caramel hair that looked incredibly soft, she didn't appreciate him looking her up and down.

"My face is at the top, Robbie." Elizabeth said curtly, narrowing her eyes at him. After inspecting his face closer, the man was probably in his mid-thirties even though he was still quite boyishly handsome.

"My apologies, Catty. My name is Dick Grayson." Robin finally met her eyes, smiling pleasantly and holding out his hand. Because his smile brought out a dimple in his left cheek, Elizabeth decided to shake Dick's hand.

"Elizabeth Bennet." She said after retracting her hand.

"Bollocks. Not a comic book fan, are you?" Dick sighed, wearing a disappointed pout.

"You can get that from my name?" Elizabeth asked, a bit bewildered.

"No. You didn't ask me if my name was really Dick Grayson or why I wasn't wearing Dick Grayson's Robin outfit instead of one of Tim Drake's." Dick replied, shrugging nonchalantly, adding, "Follow me if you want to get to the ballroom," as he started to walk away. Elizabeth scurried after him, trying to think of what he meant. There was more than one Robin…?

"From your face, I'm betting you're wondering how many Robins there are - four, if you want to know. And my name isn't actually Dick Grayson – it's Dick Fitzwilliam II. Well, Richard, but no one calls me that because of my father." Dick explained, boyish grin returning. Elizabeth, unsure of what to really do, just smiled back.

"You know, if I was dressed as Batman, I'd make some pretty inappropriate jokes since you're the closest to Catwoman so far. However, since I'm not, I'm just going to say, 'Holy kitty litter!' and let you go." Dick – Richard – whatever, said when they reached the ballroom, winking. Inside there was already a crowd, but Jane popped up out of nowhere a minute after Elizabeth left her guide.

"Lizzie, have you seen a tall guy in a suit?" Jane, dressed as a very pretty Madonna, asked.

"Um, no, all I've seen is Dick… um, Robin." Elizabeth said, accepting the quick hug Jane offered.

"Oh, that must be Darcy's cousin, then… Charles says he's always been Robin. Do you want to meet Charles? And help me avoid Darcy, the tall guy in a suit?" Jane tittered, glancing around frantically. Elizabeth couldn't tell if she had a crush or was just exceptionally nervous to meet the Darcy fellow.

"Sure. What's Charles look like?" Elizabeth questioned, looking around with her friend. She saw a pirate, a cowboy, a death reincarnation or something, a zombie – was that a pink pony with a curly mane?

"Y'all have some weird friends…" She whispered, nodding towards what was definitely a young man in a pink pony outfit talking with a guy who had a weird smiling face as a mask, holding up a sign that read, "The game."

"Charles' friends – erm, the younger ones… are a bit… eccentric? Well, they're more like acquaintances, but Charles calls everyone his friend. They're nice when they're not joking around, though, so it's okay." Jane replied, eyeing the two young men in question.

"Charles is dressed up like a vampire – he's kinda tall, ginger, dressed in all black… and has a fake monocle and moustache. I haven't the slightest idea why. I think he got coerced into it." She continued, grabbing Elizabeth's hand as a woman dressed up as a playboy nurse walked by, separating them for a fraction of a second. Elizabeth was glad for it, not wanting to be lost in a sea of college kids who already had more money than she ever would.

"I see him… next to a tall guy in a suit." Elizabeth mumbled, giving Jane an apologetic smile as she pointed to the duo that certainly made heads turn. Charles was just a tad shorter than Darcy, the top of his head (not including his faux hawk which reached Darcy's nose) meeting Darcy's lips, and was almost as pale in the face as the white wall behind him; also, the fake moustache and monocle were no longer present on his face. He had a giant grin on his face, showing off the pearly white fangs he'd donned, as he laughed jovially at something his friend said, clapping Darcy on the shoulder. Charles cut a nice figure in his black three-piece suit, the vest being a bright red, but Darcy cut an even finer picture in his own three-piece suit as he was built, unlike Charles. He seemed to be the exact opposite and looked very much like Dick/Robin; his hair was a dark mess of curls that draped half way down the nape of his neck. Darcy wasn't pale but instead had a light golden tan, and his tie, which was highlighted from the blackness of his vest and jacket, was a demure shade of light blue accented with silver. Additionally, he looked older than Charles with a five o'clock shadow dashing across his face quite becomingly.

"Crap. Lizzie, you have to come with me to meet Darcy, you just have to! He's Charles' oldest friend who's saved him more than once and I can't give him a bad first impression! Quick, how do I look? Presentable?" Jane, suddenly even more frantic, turned to Elizabeth with a panicked look in her eyes.

"Janie, you look perfect. Darcy is just a guy – probably rich like all these other people, but still, just a man." Elizabeth found it a bit ironic she was unable to convince herself that the people around her weren't any different than her and was trying to tell Jane the same thing.

"No, you don't understand, Darcy—"

"Come on, let's go." Elizabeth interrupted before Jane could freak herself out, dragging her friend to the men.

"Jane, sweetheart, where have you been?" Charles cried once he spotted his wife, grin somehow growing even wider; by contrast, Darcy, who once had worn a small little smile, deadpanned upon their arrival.

"I was looking for Lizzie, Charlemagne – remember the friend I met at the bookstore I told you about? Charles Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet." Jane introduced them, eyeing Darcy shyly.

"Charles the Great, eh? I think you're a bit short, though." Elizabeth teased, shaking hands with Charles; he laughed, though she was pretty sure he didn't get it from the second-long confusion present on his face. Darcy, however, gave a quiet snort.

"I've heard all about you, a little spitfire. How do you like the party so far? Oh, yeah this is Crispy. Crispy, this is Jane, my beloved, and, well, Lizzie, obviously." Charles said afterwards, smile never fading.

"Bloody hell, I'm going to have to kill Dick…" Darcy muttered, scowling deeply before Elizabeth could say anything.

"I just got here, so I can't say yet, sorry. Pleasure, Crispy. You look about the right height for Charlemagne – no offense, Charles. But, I thought your name was Darcy?" Elizabeth smiled politely, thoughts jumping to the Dick/Robin she'd met; because of Darcy's words, she was pretty sure they were related. Looking at Darcy with a closer view, he reminded Elizabeth of someone, but she couldn't really place whom. She also noticed Jane and Charles edging away, talking about dancing.

"It is, but my poxy cousin calls me Crispy because my middle name is Crispin…" Darcy replied, a bit ashamed.

"That's cute. Does your cousin happen to be dressed up as Robin?" Elizabeth inquired, unconsciously looking around for Dick. She wasn't positive what to make of him yet, resulting in her wariness of him.

"He told you the whole deal about his costume, did he? He's just a mostly harmless nutter obsessed with comics and video games, ignore him." Darcy instructed, rolling his eyes; everyone who met Dick while he was in his fandom mode always had the same expression when speaking about him.

"He's got wandering eyes, you know. Do you like dancing, Crispy?" Elizabeth smiled impishly up at him, spotting a slight lip-twitch at the nickname present on his face. Darcy ruminated on the question, thoughts bouncing between him not really liking the activity because of a certain someone's sibling, but he actually enjoyed the brazen young woman before him. If there was one thing he and Dick had in common, it was a taste in looks for women; Elizabeth, a leggy, if short, brunette packaged with a killer smile and astounding amber eyes, was definitely a catch in both their eyes. Darcy was also caught up in the fact he was being a bit too forward; women always took a dance coupled with a smile form him as affection or preference that led up to a follow-up date.

"Oh, I know he does, Kitten. I'm afraid I don't particularly like it normally and wouldn't wish to even attempt to try… that." Darcy jested, giving a nod of his head to the mass of flesh that appeared to be gyrating and fist-pumping in random, incessant patterns matching the heavy beat coming form the DJ's stereo. To him, it looked like a sweaty, undignified mess that wouldn't even qualify for dancing; to Elizabeth, it looked like fun, if one had the right partner and wasn't in the middle of the gigantic group.

"Kitten?" Elizabeth asked, eyebrow arched sharply; she barely knew the man, yet he was imposing a pet name onto her?

"Crispy?" Darcy shot back, smirking slightly. Elizabeth opened her mouth, hesitating for a second, before closing it; she was caught. If she remained to call him "Crispy," which she was adamant in doing now, she knew Darcy would reply with "Kitten." The smirk brought about an almost boyish quality to Darcy's face, with the hints of dimples peeking out at the corners, once more striking Elizabeth with a sense of déjà vu.

"Okay, you really look familiar to me. Is there any chance we've met before? Any chance at all?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. The memory was on the tip of her tongue, just barely out of her grasp, and it was infuriating. Darcy had no inkling of ever seeing Elizabeth before, except that her striking smile and eyes were quite close to something he vaguely remembered, something his subconscious could have easily made up, so he shook his head in the nugatory.

"I believe not; I always remember faces." Darcy stated before chastising himself mentally; the make-up she'd donned could easily hide certain aspects of her face or make them seem like something else. However, after that, he couldn't remember the last time he'd met someone over eighteen that was Elizabeth's height.

"Arrogant much?" Elizabeth teased, although it wasn't all in jest. Darcy seemed so sure of himself.

"Prideful in a memory that has never been – entirely incorrect before." Darcy stumbled slightly, blinking back the memories swimming up; he could smell salt already.

"Excuse me, Kitten; I should go find my cousin to see if he's pissed enough to hide in a room upstairs yet." Darcy said curtly, needing fresh air; suddenly, he felt crushed and frozen in the room, requiring a release. Elizabeth watched him walk away, curious for the immediate change in his disposition. Darcy had been polite, albeit maybe a bit aloof, until that moment in which his sureness was questioned. Deciding that he probably had an ego and wanted to leave anyone who didn't bow down to it, Elizabeth shrugged off all thoughts of Darcy as she entered the mass of bodies on the dance floor. She didn't end up seeing Charles or Jane, but she did see Dick quite a few times before she left the dance floor. Elizabeth had kept their run-ins brief and avoided them at all costs, even dancing with the guy dressed as a pink pony (he was actually a very nice guy named Matt). Upon exiting the dance floor for a drink, she was surprised to see Darcy milling like a menacing shadow not ten feet from her. He seemed not to notice Elizabeth for a second, but, with a slightly panicked expression, Darcy soon hurried to her side.

"You have my permission to submit me to anything tonight as long as you help me right now." Darcy whispered in low tones, leaning down so his mouth was near Elizabeth's ear. She chewed on her lower lip, an adorable blush spreading across her cheeks as he pulled back; it had been a long while since an attractive man – or any, besides her family members, that is – had whispered into her ear.

"Depends on what you want, Crispy." Elizabeth declared, causing Darcy to smirk at her cheek.

"Keep your voice down, Kitten; she might be near. I'm avoiding Charles' sister, Caroline, and she generally stays back when I've another woman at my side to plot or determine things in her twisted mind." Again, Darcy leaned down close, introducing Elizabeth to his scent; through the smell of the party around them, she detected Old Spice.

"You, someone who's probably around two-hundred pounds, give or take, is scared of a woman who's probably half that?" Elizabeth laughed while internally thinking the scent suited him. If anything, the name alone suited him; he was too old for a shindig like this.

"You've never met her, I gather. Caroline is not only after me as a person but also me as a publisher. She's a ruthless woman who stops at nothing to get what she wants; ever since I've met Charles, she's been sexually harassing me. Would you please help me avoid her, just for tonight?" Darcy hissed, keeping his face lowered towards Elizabeth's; his gaze darted around though, searching for the flash of fiery red that would signal Caroline's approach. He tried to convince himself he wasn't spending extra time with Elizabeth to try and figure out the enigma he figured she was, but Darcy was failing.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Anything?" Elizabeth goaded, meeting Darcy's gaze; she nearly jumped at the first good look she'd gotten at them. They were clear silver laced with light, almost undetectable blue, but from afar, hidden in shadows, they'd seemed dark blue. The only person she'd seen with eyes that pretty had been Angel, but he was long deceased. Elizabeth cursed herself for not remembering Angel's real name, wondering if the news had somehow been wrong or prematurely made. From the realization with his eyes, she could easily place Angel's face to Darcy's if the boyish features had grown into the hard angles and panes of a man's and his golden curls had somehow turned black. It was hard to see the tiny body of Angel's turning into Darcy's powerful, imposing one, but it wasn't impossible. The great height difference between Angel and Darcy was also difficult to envision but not improbable.

"Within reason. I'm not going to cover up a murder or anything." Darcy promised, holding out his hand and finally returning to his full height. Elizabeth laughed, placing her slender hand delicately into his calloused one and shook on it.

"Darn – the bodies are pretty heavy sometimes. So, what do I do? And what does Caroline dearest look like?" She asked once her hand was safely back at her side. Darcy paused for a second, glancing around.

"Stay with me until you wish to leave the party. Caroline is Charles' twin, so—"

"Look for a tall ginger woman with desire-filled eyes locked on you?" Elizabeth interrupted, spotting a disgruntled "nurse" with long red hair frozen at the edge of the dance floor; following her gaze, Darcy nodded slowly. She understood his wanting to avoid the woman; just by looking at her from afar, Elizabeth could tell exactly what sexual harassment Darcy went through if Caroline's costume was anything to go by. Her skirt was short, barely considerable as a skirt rather than panties with out a bottom, and her top dipped so low into her cleavage, one could see the lace of her bra peeking out. Darcy swallowed, adverting his eyes. Despite being a man, he couldn't stand the sight of women like that; it was despicable to him. Caroline could be a pretty woman of the waif-like, hide-from-the-world quality if she weren't all sharp angles, deep, pouty frowns, make-up, and obscene clothing.

"I understand your pain. For this, you'll be my slave for tonight, hear?" Elizabeth said, taking note of how earnestly uncomfortable Darcy looked. It was quite endearing to know, at least with this one woman, he wasn't controlled by his libido and was considerate enough to look embarrassed for her.

"Aye, I hear you." Darcy replied with slight apprehension; he didn't appreciate the evil-looking, toothy grin spreading across Elizabeth's face. He started to regret asking her when he heard her cackle softly, wondering what she was going to make him do.

A/N: Hellloooo, P&P fanfic readers! :D Thanks to y'all who are reading this – as long as you enjoy this, my job is done. This is my second modern P&P (my other one is "Write My Name on a Sidewalk and Hope It Stays" –shameless self advertisement- ), but it's going to be different (and hopefully longer). I'm going to say this now – yes, it has dark themes, and I'm no expert on what goes on the world. I have done some research for the medical conditions I'll have in here, and I'll do some research on the law, too. Now, just because I Google things doesn't mean I'll get them right; if anyone sees something incorrect, please do correct me. I'll thank you for it if you aren't an arse about it. Constructive criticism makes my day, too. :3 As for updates, don't expect a set day or whatever – I update when I can.

Tell me what you think about the little preview thing in the very beginning? Is it confusing? Poorly placed? Oh, and I'm not sure if all the chapters will be this long. xD

~ Tobi