AN: I'm back! Another piece of absolute fluff I wrote sometime ago...Well, more than fluff I should say a bit smutty , but I'll let you determine that...

I really don't know how to describe this; it's another alternate first meeting in modern times, with a bit of 'stereotype fighting' (you know, Jane's the blonde, Darcy is dark...).

I truly hope you like it.

Oh, and I don't own Pride and Prejudice. Or Mr Darcy. *bawls*

Kissing A Stranger

Everytime someone told Elizabeth Bennet that "blondes have more fun", she would always answer: "Not when the brunette is Jane."

Her statement was being proven true, again.

She and her older sister had been invited to the umpteenth cocktail party organized by a friend of a friend of their mother's, and it had been impossible to decline: this was the price of belonging to the city's elitè, twenty-four years old and still single.

As soon as they had passed the door to the ballroom, Jane Bennet had made heads turn with her tall, willowy, top-model-like silhouette, sun-kissed skin, doe-like hazel eyes and glossy, luscious, chocolate brown locks flowing down her shoulders. Her emerald green gown was the proverbial icing on the cake.

Men had instantly surrounded her, some of them old friends from school, others eagerly waiting to be introduced, and all of them had received the famous "Jane smile", that made her resemble an angel and could have graced every fashion magazine cover.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, had immediately gone to the open bar to serve herself some wine: when it came to this type of parties, she needed some comfort beverage to put up with disgustingly high heels, vapid conversation and men who, if they ever moved their eyes away from her sister, only noticed her chest.

She wasn't ugly, mind you: but being just one year younger than her perfect sister, she had been always subjected to comparison. She was shorter, though by just two inches, her facial features looked positively plain beside Jane's perfect oval, and her hair was...disastrous. Her waves would never stay in place and the colour boarded dangerously towards orange. Technically, her hair was strawberry blonde, but people had asked countless times why she "kept dyeing her hair red when she was a natural blonde"! Even her being curvy didn't help. Men tended to pay more attention to her girls rather than at what she was saying, which was frustrating at best.

Elizabeth roamed the room without purpose, trying to find somewhere to sulk or someone to talk to; sometimes, she kept an eye on Jane, but she had settled for the company of Charlie Bingley, the guy who had had a crush on her since Elementary school, and probably the only male in the room who wouldn't try to shag her sister on the spot.

At some point, she caught sight of Charlie's sister, Caroline, who had bleached her light brown hair into a platinum blonde colour that made her look like a ghost, wearing a terrifying pink dress which left nothing to imagination ("Not that there's much to imagine..." thought Elizabeth), attached like a tick to a man Elizabeth didn't know. He was taller than most people present, looked amazingly good in his evening jacket and had fire red curls reaching his shirt collar. He turned slightly and Elizabeth could admire his profile: strong jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones and forehead...

A flash of movement caught her eyes away from such pleasurable inspections. Two men had entered the room: one, small and burly, with brownish hair and a plump face, was bowing to the host and talking incessantly. The second, a handsome blond with a wide, mischievous smile, was being surrounded by giggling girls trying to get his exclusive attention.

"Damn it!" Elizabeth hissed to herself, shivering. Those two were her personal nightmares. The toady one, Bill Collins, had followed her around since middle school, trying to convince her that they were perfect for each other, but was too stupid to understand that no one, let alone her, could stand him for more than five minutes. The other, George Wickham, had been the most popular guy in high school and was an asshole of the first category. He believed himself far above others and thought everything was his to take, especially girls. She'd been the only one who hadn't run into his arms at his first smile and he was determined on fixing that. Problem was, Elizabeth had no intention of letting him do so.

She frantically looked around, trying to find a place where she could hide and be safe. Finally, she noticed a door behind the curtains but a few feet from where she was; after slipping inside, she noticed that it was a sort of closed terrace, covered by windows, facing the garden. City lights gave her some visibility, but she was well hidden from the ballroom. She took a sigh of relief, then moved towards the windows to look outside, but a few minutes later her solitude was disrupted by a rushed entrance. She turned and saw the ginger man she had noticed earlier, looking quite flustered, as if running away from someone.

Fitzwilliam Darcy felt extremely embarassed. He was at a party he hadn't been personally invited to, in a room full of people he had never seen in his life and in the sole company of a woman who wouldn't leave him alone for one second and was grating on his nerves. He was there simply because his university friend, Charles, had practically begged him to be Caroline's escort, so he could pursue the love of his life without having his sister breathing on his neck.

He knew that his sacrifice in having to put up with the bleached harpy was throwing Charles in the way of his happiness (the brunette in green he was dancing with was quite the beauty and seemed pretty taken with him too), but this knowledge didn't console him at all. He wanted to run, as fast as he could, away from her painted nails and her stenching perfume.

Problem was, even if he could find a way to detach her from his arm without losing it, she would find him almost as soon as he left: he was the tallest man in the room and, unfortunately, the only red-haired one. He cursed his hair for the umpteenth time in his life for being of such a traitorous colour and sighed.

Then, suddenly, someone in Heaven listened to him: Caroline muttered another snide comment about one of her neighbours and added: "I need to go and powder my nose, Darcy...Would you mind waiting for me?" He shook his head vigorously, and finally felt blood come back in his left arm when she let go and went to the ladies' room.

Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, he strolled around, looking for something, anything that could help him escape. Unfortunately, Caroline had been very fast and had already come back; he could see her scanning the room in search of him.

He slightly panicked and frantically looked around. Then, he noticed a door hidden behind some curtains; without even thinking of what could be behind the door itself, he ducked behind the curtain, opened the door, got inside and closed it as if the handle burned. He put his ear to the door, to make sure that Caroline wasn't coming after him, when he heard another feminine voice, from his side of the door, call out to him: "Are you alright?"

He turned and, for a long moment, believed he was dreaming. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was in front of him; of medium height, even in the semi-darkness he could outline the Venus-like curves of her body and her pale, ivory white skin; her face was heart-shaped, with a pert nose and full, rosy lips. He couldn't see her eye-colour, but their shape and long lashes were beautiful enough; her hair, piled up in an elegant, slightly ruffled style, was an amazing light red colour he had never seen (and, being a ginger himself, he knew a lot about red hair shades). The gown she was wearing, black or blue he could not see, highlighted her hourglass form without being provocative. She was still waiting for an answer and raised her right eyebrow , making his heart skip a beat. "Speak, you idiot!"

"Uhm...No, actually...I was..." Great. He had just become a blabbering fool. "...Hiding?" she added, almost as if helping him create a sentence. He nodded, not trusting his tongue. She broke into a smile, and it was so bright he felt his own cheeks itch to respond in the same way. "So am I: there is a toad dressed as a penguin and a strapping Casanova I'd like to avoid, out there! Whom are you running away from?"

How could anyone try to molest such a magnificent creature was beyond Darcy, but then he decided it was best to answer her question, else she believed him a complete imbecile. "My friend's sister...I was supposed to escort her so he could stay alone with his girlfriend, but her presence was becoming...stifling, for lack of a better word!"

She laughed, making him smile, then replied, her eyes twinkling like stars: "I saw you with Caroline, and I can assure you, any man of good sense would run away from her!" He chuckled in response, but before he could open his mouth, he heard Caroline's voice on the other side of the door, calling for him. "Darcy, darling? Are you in there?"

Panic rose in his chest. He moved nearer to the goddess in front of him, took her hand and whispered: "Please, forgive me for what I'm going to do...Don't slap me, okay?" She looked sceptical, but nodded.

Then, just as they heard the click of the door opening, he cupped her face with his hand, leaned down and kissed her.

As soon as their lips touched, Elizabeth stopped caring that she had no idea who this man was, that she didn't even know his name, that he didn't know hers and sure as hell she didn't care if Caroline saw them. She had been kissed before, but it had never felt so amazing. His arms, now wrapping her body, were strong and comforting, surrounding her like a warm blanket in winter; her heart rate sped up and she closed her eyes to better savour the sweet tingling sensation coming from her lips.

Darcy had meant to give her simply a chaste kiss, to shock Caroline long enough to make her go away, but after touching her lips he completely forgot about the door, because that kiss felt like heaven. Her lips were soft, and he could almost feel a slight vanilla taste on them. His arms wrapped around her by instinct, and his knees almost gave way when he felt her curves pressed on his own body. He deepened the kiss, wanting to feel more of her, but tried not to overwhelm her. Well, he tried until he heard her soft moan against his mouth and her hands ("such small, delicate hands") run up is neck to caress his curls.

They were reaching the point of groping like horned teenagers when they heard Caroline's voice, now grown squeaky, say: "Wh-what's happening here?!"

Darcy let her go, panting slightly, and trying to put his hands on more...gentlemanly places than those where they were right now, finally settling for her tiny waist.

Elizabeth was annoyed at best. She knew that his kiss was meant to have that effect on Caroline, but the girl had just ruined her damn best make out ever! She turned towards her old enemy, who looked even paler than usual, gave her a steely gaze, arching her eyebrow and hissing: "Nothing that should concern you, Caroline! Now, do you mind? We'd like some privacy." She moved away from him just long enough to take Caroline's arm, push her out of the door and close it on her face.

Darcy let her act on his stead, enchanted and amazed. With the door open, the light from the ballroom had made him able to catch the colour of her eyes. Violet blue. Magnificent. Just like her.

She turned to him, smiled and said: "Hello, stranger."

He smiled back: "Hello, stranger."

She pushed her hand towards him. "I'm Elizabeth Bennet, by the way."

His smile widened. He took her hand, kissed her knuckles and said: "Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service, madam."

She moved near him, ending in his embrace and, when her lips were barely a whisper away from his, she murmured: "Now...where were we?"

He grinned and before leaning down to reach heaven again, whispered back: "Just right here..."

Later that same night, Elizabeth would find out that Darcy had beautiful blue eyes and dimples on both his cheeks when he smiled; Darcy would discover that Charlie's brunette was Elizabeth's sister, though he couldn't imagine two more different people. And Jane and Charles would be astonished to be told that the two people they wanted to introduce to the other had already met and kissed, all the while putting Caroline to silence once and for all. Jane would have never thought her sister capable of kissing a stranger. But, as Elizabeth explained to her at home, Fitzwilliam had not been a stranger, since she had already seen him before. It was him who kissed a stranger!

AN: Hate it or love it? What do you think or Ginger Darcy? (personally, I have a thing for red hair...)

Read and Review!

Hyacinth Judy