Author's Note: So I've actually had this on the brain for a while and just got around to starting it. I thought how Emma and Elizabeth have similar characteristics and how Mr. Knightley and Mr. Darcy are kind of alike as well. I then got around to thinking, hmm…what would happen if two of the characters crossed paths in the course of their respective novels. And so, on his way to make his second proposal, Mr. Darcy bumps into Highbury for an evening with Ms. Woodhouse, each plagued by their love problems and each curious about the other. Just so you know, I am by no means implying a relationship between Emma and Mr. Darcy, I just thought they might enjoy a little support from the other. Jane owns everything, and she's probably thinking in her grave right now "I wrote them in separate books for a reason!" Oh well, my rant is done and on with the fanfic.

Emma Woodhouse was deeply frustrated with herself. For the twenty-one years of her life she had allowed many idiotic, stupid, and occasionally, harmful things to happen, but never had she allowed this to happen. She was in love. She sighed as her mind chimed in that she had always been in love, but it was still disgraceful and agitating. And it hurt.

Oh it was hell to even think about him. The very thought of his name was like a poisoned pin, any discreet sliver of his face was a fiery torture. "Oh, Mr. Knightely what have you done to me?" sighed Emma again as she glanced out the window at the rain.

"Emma!" She was startled out of her lonely thoughts by her father's voice carrying through the halls. "Emma, come out into the foyer if you please!"

"The foyer," puzzled Emma as she went. "Why would father need me by the front door at this time of night?" Her answer was found as she entered the front room. Her father stood talking to a young man with black hair and dark eyes. His countenance was serious and slightly foreboding, and he carried himself in a discreetly regal manner. Emma felt a bitter pang at her heart as she saw how his person resembled Mr. Knightley. She shook it off and studied the newcomer more thoroughly. Despite the fact that he was in riding clothes (which were soaked by the night's rain) it was obvious he was very wealthy, perhaps even belonging to a social claim higher than her and her father's.

"My dear this is Mr. um… Mr., oh good heavens sir I've forgotten your name."

"Darcy, sir." Emma cocked her eyebrow. The response was far more uncomfortable than she would have expected from a man of such stature.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, this is my daughter Emma. Emma, Mr. Darcy has ridden from Kent and is going out into the country and is to stay here tonight."

"Sir," said Mr. Darcy raising his hand. "I merely came in to ask if there was an inn nearby. There is no need for you to be so kind to me. I would not wish to impose on you."

Mr. Woodhouse gave Mr. Darcy a slightly hurt look and Emma could see that in a split second he would go off on one of his distressed rants. Emma knew her father far too well to be wrong.

"No Sir I insist you lodge here tonight. There is no need for you to be riding about in the rain. It is sir, quite dangerous and harmful. Oh how I do detest when people ride about in the rain. How I wish they would simply stay home by a nice warm fire as I do. I am sure that if Mr. Perry, the apothecary you see, whose opinion I greatly trust, were here he would consider riding through that rain a formidable hazard to your health. No sir, I would wish you to stay here rather than galloping about in the rain over to the town. You would most certainly catch a cold and become a bed-ridden mess. Then Mr. Perry would have to treat you and you would be miserable for many weeks. No sir I would much rather you were to remain here. May I perhaps fetch you some gruel? Mr. Perry says gruel is very wholesome and I most avidly agree with him. I assure you, you will not find anything quite as wholesome as the gruel we make here, which you would by no means find at the Crown."

Mr. Darcy glanced at Emma uneasily. She smiled, raising her eyebrows as if to say, "That's what you get for disagreeing with him." She sighed and decided to put their minds both at rest. "On top of that, gruel and all, it is past ten-thirty and the Crown has shut its doors. So," turning to Mr. Darcy, "Unless you plan on riding all night through the rain, you have little choice but to stay here."

Mr. Darcy nodded in unwilling compliance and Emma was pleased to see her father smile and shake his hand. "Oh good sir, it pleases me greatly to have you stay with us tonight rather than catch cold out in the rain." Mr. Woodhouse was forced to yawn before continuing. "Well I am off to fetch some gruel and go to bed. I would suggest you do the same as is it is very late. Emma, show him to his room, he will stay in poor Ms. Taylor's old room. Oh how I miss poor Ms. Taylor. Well no use fretting about it now I am off to bed." And with that Mr. Woodhouse left the two of them in the foyer and climbed the stairs to his room.

Mr. Darcy turned to Emma and gave her a curious look. "Poor Ms. Taylor? Has someone died recently?" Emma smiled.

"No, to my father our "poor Ms. Taylor" has undergone a fate much worse than death."

"Good heavens, what?!"

"Marriage."

Mr. Darcy paused and puzzled over it for a moment. "Is she in an unhappy circumstance, has she married someone whom she does not love?"

"No, quite the contrary actually," Emma smiled inwardly with pride as she said this, as the match after all had been due to her formulation. "It is really more that she left Highbury than that she was married." Mr. Darcy nodded, but it was quite obvious that he still didn't fully understand what she meant. Emma decided to let the topic drop. Finally she asked the question that had been nagging at her ever since she had heard the man's story.

"It's been raining for the past two days. What on earth was so important that you rode through it?" Mr. Darcy looked at her in a startled way like he was just coming out of a trance.

"Oh well you see I uh…" he was stammering. Emma braced herself for the pathetic lie that she knew she was going to get. "…had some business matters."

"Of course," thought Emma. "I see. You have business with a sensible businessman that requires you to ride through wind and rain risking your health and well-being. Now that the little child story is out of the way I would appreciate if you satisfied my curiosity, Mr. Darcy." Judging by Mr. Darcy's surprised face he was struggling to believe she could act so reproachful. Emma was having a hard time believing it herself, but she the mood she was in seemed to be throwing away what little sense she had, why not lose her code of conduct all together?

"Bloody Hell," thought Mr. Darcy, "she's stubborn, headstrong and actually seems to think. She's like Elizabeth!" "Maybe I will," he responded slyly, "If you tell me why you have not gone to bed yet." Emma just stared at him for a moment before looking at the clock. It was almost midnight. On any other night like this she would have been asleep long before now.

She turned away from him. "I couldn't sleep."

"Will you tell me why?"

"If you tell me why you rode through the rain."

Mr. Darcy nodded and sat down. Emma glared at him for a moment before sitting down in the chair opposite him. She couldn't help accepting his unspoken challenge. He reminded her lot of Mr. Knightley and she was sincerely intrigued by what he had gone through.

Mr. Darcy was greatly amused with Ms. Woodhouse. She was so much like Elizabeth that he couldn't help feeling a little protective of her. It was quite obvious that something was troubling her and he fully intended to find out what it was. His look faltered a bit as he remembered how much he had wanted to help Elizabeth back at Pemburly. He realized that it wasn't so much Emma he was determined to help, but how she made the situation mirror the events at Pemburly which made him want to lend his assistance. Well not so much that they mirrored the events but that she was someone distinctly like Elizabeth who was obviously troubled by something, and he felt like he should help her as he had tried to help Elizabeth. Darcy shook his head mentally. I'm so insane I don't even make sense to myself anymore.

The two of them just stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but in reality only turned out to be a few minutes. Emma tried to read her partner's face and could detect every hint and clue she was looking for. His gaze seemed to be elsewhere, he had a sort of wistful look in is eye and overall in a sort of melancholy state. She remembered seeing those same features in herself looking in the mirror recently. Finally she dropped her shields.

"Have you ever been in love?"