A/N: Set in the Lizzie Bennet Diaries. A few little snapshots of Lizzie and William's life after the videos ended…


For months after their first kiss, their relationship was perfect. It was everything Lizzie had ever wanted; everything William had ever hoped for; even Lizzie's mother was overjoyed with the obvious romance her middle daughter had found (not to mention her boyfriend's considerable wealth).

And then one night in San Francisco, Lizzie turned up on his doorstep. It was mid-January and snowing, yet she was not wearing a coat. William exclaimed in surprise when he saw her, and was about to pull her inside out of the cold when he saw the expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked uncertainly. Standing before him, with snow in her hair and her slight form tense with anger, she had never looked more furious. Or more beautiful. Except, perhaps, when she confronted him about his actions regarding Jane and Bing – but it was a close thing.

"How long, exactly, have you been meddling in the affairs of my company?" she asked, her voice laden with venom.

William's heart sank. He'd hoped she wouldn't find out. That ought to have been enough to warn him off, really; that he even suspected Lizzie might not have looked kindly upon his actions should have told him not to get involved. But he'd wanted to help. He wanted her to be happy.

All this he attempted to explain, but to no avail. For once, his usual eloquence failed him, and Lizzie was not really interested in what he was trying to say. She stood there shouting in the street long enough that people were starting to wonder what was going on, but he couldn't find the words to answer her back. He didn't even attempt to put up a fight, knowing he was in the wrong.

Eventually, he tried to take her arm and bring her inside, but she pulled away, her eyes cold and fierce.

"Don't you dare, William Darcy," she said, stepping back. "I should have known when I met you I couldn't trust you. It was just too much, wasn't it, to let me have my own life?" She spun round, her hair fanning out around her head like a halo. "You won't hear from me again. Goodbye."

And William stood there, dumbstruck, as she walked away.

He found out later that she left San Francisco the next morning on a flight to New York. She left the company in the hands of her deputy, with clear instructions to remove all influences from Pemberly Digital, and that was the last he saw of her for six months.

He didn't call.

He hadn't called last time either, when the disaster with her sister had forced her to leave so quickly she hardly had chance to say goodbye. But this time it was his fault she'd left – he'd messed everything up. If only he hadn't tried to help…

Gigi was angry too, because he wouldn't explain what had happened. He hadn't spoken to Jane or Bing, though they'd both called him numerous times, instead choosing to bury himself in work and avoid all human contact.

And then, against all his hopes, Lizzie called him.

The conversation was short, and consisted mainly of him apologising numerous times. If it had been anyone else, he would have been too stubborn to say it, but this was Lizzie. He loved her. That made it different.

She didn't say much, but he guessed the conversation had been orchestrated by Jane. She was returning to San Francisco in two days. He almost asked to meet her at the airport, but stopped himself. It might be too presumptuous. She'd come when she was ready.

When they did see each other again, William hardly knew what to say. It was more awkward any other conversation they'd ever had. Finally, Lizzie looked up at him shyly from under her lashes, and she looked so beautiful that he blurted out he still loved her, and would she take him back?

She smiled and nodded, and he knew she was still angry, but she had forgiven him. She was his Lizzie, and he was her Will, and that was what mattered. They had their entire future ahead of them, and they realised that day that their love would last forever.


It was another year before he asked her the question, and a few months after that that they were married. As tradition dictated, he stood at the altar and steadfastly did not look round until she stood beside him, and then he whispered that she was the most beautiful woman in all the world, and he was the luckiest man. It was only the second time they had danced together at a wedding, and this time, the whole room might as well have been empty for all their awareness of other people. Each privately decided it was the best day of their life.

Months later, he was there when she came out of the bathroom and showed him the positive, and he held her when she cried after it all went wrong.

He cried with her when she admitted she was scared to try again, and he swept her up in his arms and spun her round when she told him the second time.

When their daughter was born, he held her and looked down at the tiny child who seemed the most precious thing in existence, and he felt as if his heart would burst with love for her and Lizzie.

Years later, he held Lizzie's hand when their little girl, who was no longer little any more, walked away from them with a wave and a smile, to go and live her own life.

He was there for her every time she needed him, and even when they were both angry and shouting, they knew they loved each other, and that it would all blow over.

He kissed her and held her hand and wept when she lay frail and tired on the bed, and yet in their hearts they were still young and free as they had once been. And he was there when her eyes drifted closed as she said goodbye for the last time.

It wasn't long after that he said his own goodbyes, and his family, which was numerous by then, understood. He was smiling gently as he drifted away.

He was still her Will, and she was still his Lizzie. Not all the years of their lives, not even death, could change that.


A/N: Thoughts?