The Meaning Of Success
Playing Pranks On Caroline Bingley is always fun!
Prejprompt: Spamalot "Prologue" and going off to see Prince Caspian tomorrow on cheap night!
AU: Modern time.
Rating: T/ PG-13
Fitzwilliam Darcy, Will to his friends but not to his family, stood at the window of his new office in a business complex, gazing recklessly into the dark sky. He debated whether he wanted to work any more tonight, and reluctantly turned back to his desk. The secretary buzzed his phone, and he pressed the handsfree button. "Yes, Charlotte?"
Charlotte Lucas' prim voice came over the clear of static line. "Mr. Darcy, there's a Bingley here to see you, sir."
"Send him in please, Charlotte."
Darcy pressed the button again and the phone turned off, as he turned back to the impressive window and scenery that stretched just beyond it. From where he was he could see Toronto's famous CN Tower - suddenly the door swung open and he sighed in satisfaction before saying without turning towards his visitor, "You know, Charles, the spot is really ideal for sight -"
"Ahem." The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted Darcy's insight, and he knew he had made a mistake. He fell into cold, stony silence and waited.
"Ahem," the throat cleared again, making Will want to cringe, for he would know that throat clearing anywhere. It was noisy and feminine - forget the word 'dainty'. It was the voice of the crooning Miss Caroline Bingley.
Will Darcy forced himself not to make any noise that might be rude to the lady and quirked the smallest possible smile he could. Finally, reluctantly, he spoke. "Miss Bingley. What can I do to help you?"
"Well - " As soon as she opened her mouth, he knew it was going to be about Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy pretended that his cell phone was ringing in his pocket. "I'm terribly sorry, I must leave to answer this call."
Caroline gaped at Will with a ridiculous frown on her face. "I wasn't - "
"Really, please." Will, with a fake smile plastered on his face, strode past Caroline and slammed the inner office door behind him as fast as he could.
He reached the outer foyer and paused by his secretary's desk. "Please, please don't let that woman in ever again," he ordered.
Charlotte smirked. "Come now, Will - if I recall correctly, you were the one who gave her permission to come in. I said 'a' Bingley, not Mr. Bingley. I was rather shocked when you told me to send her in."
"Well, I didn't know it was her," Darcy replied, exasperated.
"Your fault - certainly not mine," shot Charlotte with a sweet smile at her employer.
Will nodded grudgingly, though with good humor and leaned against her desk. "Can I borrow your car this evening?" he practically pleaded. "Lizzy wants to go see Prince Caspian, and I thought that it might be a good thing for us to go. Together."
Charlotte grinned. "Now, why would you want to borrow my car when you have about three limos at your beck and call?" she countered.
Will sighed. "You know just as well as I do that Elizabeth does not like a fancy Rolls or even a limo. I've decided to indulge her just this once."
"Not so - you ask for my car every date!" Charlotte declared smiling.
"Well," Will wheedled, "Considering she's your best friend..." he left the sentence dangling.
"Why don't you just buy a car?" Charlotte persisted. "I mean, you certainly have enough money for one!"
Other employees might get fired for their audacity; Charlotte was encouraged. She had been the one who had introduced Will to Elizabeth, and had been counted one of Will's closest friends ever since, especially because she was engaged to Elizabeth's cousin. The trio were surprisingly inseparable when it came to loyalty, though when one of the ladies longed to go on a shopping spree, usually Will was the last to be asked - and if he was asked at all, it was a matter of 'he's the one whose car has the most space'. The only thing they didn't do together really was go on double dates, and that was only because both Elizabeth and Will could not stand Charlotte's fiancé and his awkward customs and chatterbox manners.
Will chuckled and glanced at his watch. "It seems like Caroline is about run out of patience by now, at least. Maybe you should lock her up in there until I'm gone," he suggested, feeling rather mischievous. "Or tell her I've gone home sick. Tell her... I have the plague!"
Charlotte burst into giggles and picked up the receiver. "Couldn't hurt," she said, taking Will by surprise.
"Quick, hide behind my desk so she won't see you when she goes storming out." After he had done so, Charlotte grinned infectiously. "Won't this be a fun story to tell Lizzy tonight." Will laughed with her for a moment, and then when the laughter had subsided, Charlotte called Darcy's office, putting the phone on the handsfree setting.
It wasn't a matter of Caroline not picking up the phone – she was so interfering she would have taken over his business if Darcy had so much left for a three day vacation - it was more like a matter of if she would fall for it or not.
Soon enough, there was a tinny voice over the loud speaker. "Hello?" it squawked.
"Hello, Miss Bingley?" Charlotte's voice had gone soft and professional. There was no way that Caroline would not take the bait.
"Yes?"
"I am most afraid to inform you that Mr. Darcy has been suddenly rushed to the hospital due to an illness that we call the 'black plague'."
"WHAT?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is so. Please, tell me, do you have any shots that you're missing, because you could be in danger - "
The phone was slammed down and the door to Darcy's office opened in haste and Caroline Bingley rushed out, an 'I'm about to scream' look on her face.
"NURSE! DO YOU HAVE A NURSE?!" she shouted, a frantic look now taking hold of her features. "I need a DOCTOR! I'm itching all over - " she started scratching herself on her arms furiously. "OH MY GOSH ITS SPREADING! HELP! HELP! I'M DYING!!" She took another glance at her hands and screamed, "MY FINGERS ARE BLEEDING! MY TEETH ARE FALLING OUT! OMGOSH I'm DYING!! MY GUMS!! THEY'RE BLEEDING!!"
She was almost at the door when Charlotte called out, "That would be called scurvy, Miss Bingley -"
Miss Bingley screeched in reply and raced out the door, calling for doctors and nurses and everything else under heaven that might help save her perfect fingers.
It was a moment in time before Will and Charlotte gained their composure and Will stood up from his crouched position.
"That was wonderful," Charlotte declared, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I agree." Will walked towards the office and glanced back at Charlotte pleadingly.
Charlotte grinned and chucked her car keys. Miraculously, Will caught it. "Thanks, dahlin," he drawled. "The limo is yours – considering you've given me another reason for Lizzy not to hate me."
"Wait, can I have chips and popcorn on the way home tonight?"
"A whole backseat full," Will promised. "Get some pizza too and tell them to put it on my bill."
At Charlotte's contented nod, Will turned and walked out the door with a spring in his step, grinning happily at the upcoming evening.
The movie turned out to be fantastic, the actors superb, and the movie well worth the 20 bucks it cost to watch it.
Will stood and held out an arm for Elizabeth to take, and, as he gently lifted her light wrap onto her shoulders, he heard a disbelieving 'Fitzwilliam!?'
Will turned, and was delighted at the sight before him. There was Miss Caroline Bingley, her face covered in splotches of cream, covering every freckle she must have had. Her hand was bandaged and there was a brace around her mouth. Her hands were surrounded with small, deflating bubbles, and her eyes were wild and bloodshot.
"Uh... have you been drinking, Miss Bingley?" Will asked courteously. He ignored the continual disbelieving glare she was sending him and escorted Elizabeth lovingly out of the theater.
"What was that about, Will?" she asked after they had laughed themselves silly in the borrowed car.
"A little joke, my dear - just a little joke that Charlotte will be pleased to tell you about," Will assured his girlfriend, and, with a quick kiss, started up the car and drove off down the road, grinning happily at the meaning of success.
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