Of Bears, Bikes and Bees
The Hello Kitty clock read 9:38 PM when Jane was roused from her book by the front door slamming shut. It was dark out and the sound of heavy rain pounding on the roof could be heard. "You're late. I was getting worried," Jane called. She reached for a cell phone on her nightstand and continued, "I tried to call you, but you forgot your phone again. What-"
Her voice died in her throat as a sopping wet Liz walked past the door to her room. The brunette flicked her drenched bangs out of her eyes, unconsciously spattering the hallway wall with a spray of water, before disappearing from Jane's sight.
She blinked once before scrambling out of bed and running after her, following her into her room. "Liz, how-"
"It happened again," Liz grumbled, tossing her bike chain over her shoulder to her sister.
Jane caught it and looked closely, noticing the broken lock. "Oh no. Your bike?"
Appearing to not care if her chair got soaked, she plopped down in front of her computer and pressed the power button. "Yup."
Glancing out at the storm outside, Jane asked, "And you walked?"
"No, Jane, I just thought it was a lovely day for a swim," Liz quipped, yanking off her sodden, red Converse and dropping them on the floor with an audible squelch.
"I'm sorry, Liz," she said, patting her on the shoulder, followed quickly by drying her hand on on jeans. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "But you know, this is the second time it's happened. Maybe it's a sign that we should get a car."
"What? Waste money on an expensive bucket of bolts, waste even more cash on car insurance, only to have it stolen as well? No thanks." She turned her attention to her monitor and began clicking away at her mouse.
"To be fair, if someone stole it as well, the car insurance wouldn't technically be a waste."
Liz glanced at Jane out of the corner of her eyes. "True. But come to think of it, the thugs in our 'hood are lazy and probably wouldn't waste any time on a car if we bought one. If I'm dumping my hard earned dinero into insurance, it damn well better get stolen."
Crossing her arms, Jane mumbled, "You're impossible."
"No, merely improbable," she responded, quirking one corner of her mouth upward.
Shaking her head, she leaned forward to see that Liz was browsing Craigslist. "Looking for a new bike?"
"Not exactly," she muttered distractedly, focused on scanning the listings before her. A few seconds past before she exclaimed, "Ah ha! Bingo!" She triumphantly double-clicked.
The next morning found Will in front of a door. He had been in front of it for a full minute and thirty-two seconds already, just standing there and staring at it. Occasionally, he would scuff his left foot against the Welcome mat. The door seemed unimpressed.
He slumped his shoulders and sighed, wondering how he had let Charlie talk him into this. Scowling at the doorknob, he decided it had to be the eyes. With a pout and one glance from those damn, pathetic puppy-dog eyes of Charlie's, it was over before it had begun. He felt like he had no choice but to give in to his friend's request and come to the last place he wanted to be. Screw Charlie and screw his stupid Fido-esque eyes.
Deciding to get this over with, he finally knocked on the door. There was a pause, then the thudding of running feet could be heard on the other side, distant at first but approaching with the force of a stampede. He stared blankly as the door swung open and Liz skidded to a stop before him, her hair cascading forward over her shoulders in chocolatey waves. A huge grin was beautifully lighting up her face and her eyes sparkled. Those brilliant, lustrous, deep ivy green eyes...
Will cursed mentally. Who was he kidding, it wasn't Charlie's eyes he was doing this for.
She hesitated, the smile quickly vanishing to be replaced with a frown. She stared at him briefly, then leaned to one side, looking behind him, then up and down the walk way. She then straightened and narrowed her eyes up at him. "You're not Charlie."
He deadpanned, "Actually, I am Charlie. I'm just trying out my new Will mask. Impressive likeness, no?"
She smirked deviously at him. "It's hideous. You should burn it before you scare too many small children."
"It's true, I wasn't quite able to fully capture Will's devilishly good looks."
Liz's face scrunched up, clearly not amused. Will thought she looked freaking adorable. He really took too much pleasure in trying to fire her up. Liz placed a fist on her hip and asked, "Seriously, where's Charlie? Jane said he was the one giving me a ride."
He shrugged. "Something came up and he couldn't make it. He asked me to fill in."
"Oh," she stated. Then, "No thanks. You can go home." She began to swiftly close the door, but Will's hand against it kept it from shutting on his face. She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"But aren't you going to some stranger's house to look at a bike you're thinking of buying?" he asked through the opening.
"Yeah, so?" She gave the door a shove. Neither it nor Will budged.
"So, Charlie said you needed a bodyguard."
"Babysitter is more like it," Liz muttered. "That's just Jane talking through him, being overly protective. I can take care of myself."
He looked at her earnestly. "There's no way I'm letting you go there alone." She stopped pushing on the door and stared up at him. He quickly looked away and said hastily, "Because Charlie asked me to."
"Ah. Good. For a second there, I thought you were concerned about my well being. Silly me." She resumed her task, driving her shoulder into the door and putting all her weight against it. It wavered, but still did not shut.
"Silly you," he agreed.
"Go. Away. Will," she demanded through grit teeth, her feet scraping against the floor as she pushed.
"Nope," he responded, replacing his hand with his back as he casually leaned against the other side of the door. Inspecting his nails, he drawled, "I hope you're not getting tired. I can do this all day if you like."
Her head snapped up and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, really? Well, in that case..." Her face disappeared from sight and so, Will suddenly discovered, did her weight against the door. Without it there to hold him up, the door flew open and Will fell through with a painful thud.
"Ow."
Fully expecting to see Liz standing over him with a smug grin on her face, he opened his eyes to glare at her. Instead, empty space received the full impact of his glare. He turned his head side to side, only to find he was alone in the room. He slowly stood up, wincing as his back ached in protest.
He glanced around, curious as to where Liz had run off to and uncertain what his next step should be. He did not want to wander around her house without invitation - spoken, that is. He doubted her letting him fall in exactly counted. So instead, he uncomfortably stood there with his hands in his pockets, taking in her living room as this was the first time he had ever been in there.
It was easy to see Liz's touches on the space, as certain items clearly didn't belong to Jane. A large Nightcrawler poster adorning the wall. A Jack Skellington messenger bag hanging from a hook. Quantum physics books resting next to the Dresden Files series on a bookshelf. He couldn't help a small smile that formed on his lips when he spotted the chubby Cthulhu plushie sitting on the couch.
He began to step further inside, only to come to an abrupt halt at the sound of a low growl. Frozen in mid step, he slowly looked down to find a dog laying at the foot of the love seat. The animal was huge, looking more mountain lion than canine. It was staring up at him passively, but the rumbling coming from deep within its chest was anything but passive.
Will held up his hands and did his best to not look threatening. Or like a chew toy. "There, there..." he said in what he hoped was a soft, soothing tone. He'd heard somewhere that was the voice you should use when dealing with strange dogs, since they could recognize the pitch. Or maybe that was babies. Though that wouldn't make any sense. It's not like a baby could tear him to shreds. "Nice monster who can rip my head off..."
"Shush, Chewie," Liz admonished as she re-entered the room, casting a warning look at the dog. It gave one soft whimper in response then fell silent, resting its head on its paws and sighing in displeasure. Will visibly relaxed, but had no plans on closing the distance between him and the beast any time soon.
Not looking at him, Liz walked past Will with a wallet in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. He asked, "So where are we going?"
She grabbed her messenger bag off the hook and tossed her wallet in it. "We aren't going anywhere. I'm going somewhere that is none of your business." She finally looked up at him to fix him with a pointed stare. "Stalker."
"And just how do you plan on getting there?"
She tossed the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "They've invented these marvelous things. They're called feet." She went to walk past him again, but suddenly the paper she was carrying vanished. "Hey!"
"Are these the driving directions?" Will asked, looking at the sheet he had confiscated.
"Give it back, you... you big tree!" Liz snapped, making a snatch for it. He simply lifted it over his head, still reading it over.
A tsk escaped him. "I wouldn't want to walk that distance. It's a good thing I'm giving you a ride."
She jumped, trying to retrieve the sheet of paper. Unfortunately, her fingers barely reached his wrists, much less her prize. Liz huffed, then Will watched out of the corner of his eyes as she went for a chair and dragged it over to him. She stood up on top of it, but he chose that moment to turn away from her, placing his back between her and the directions. What he was not expecting was for her to throw herself onto his back.
"Oof," he grunted, reflexively latching one of his arms under her leg so she didn't fall. With her left arm around his neck, Liz stretched her right arm over his shoulder for the paper. Once again, he had the advantage as his arms were longer than hers. All he had to do was hold the sheet at arm's-length and she was thwarted once again. "Geeze, Liz, if you wanted a piggy-back ride that badly, all you had to do was ask."
She smacked her free fist against his shoulder. "Why do you have to be such a jerk, Will?"
"I can't help it, I'm male. It's in my genetic code."
"Fine, whatever, keep it if you want it that badly," Liz muttered. "I'll just go print another one."
He hooked his second arm under her other leg. "What's that, Liz? You want me to carry you to the car this way? Well, it's a little unorthodox, but what the hell, you've convinced me."
A snort of derision escaped her. "You know I can just get down by letting go, right?"
"Well, you could do that, but I think you'd look rather foolish with me dragging you around by your legs."
He felt her reluctantly relax against his back. "There's no getting rid of you, is there?" She gave a resigned sigh that he could feel against his neck. He did his best not to shiver. "Okay, let's get this over and done with."
"Your enthusiasm is staggering," he stated offhandedly. Knowing she would give him no further problems, Will placed the directions between his teeth to free up a hand. He then awkwardly locked the front door while still maintaining Liz on his back and shut it behind them as they left.
On the way to his car, he felt Liz tugging at his hair. The sensation was not unpleasant, but was certainly cause for confusion. "What are you doing?"
"Retaliation," she responded simply.
He dropped her off on the passenger side of a truck, looking at the side mirror. He glowered. "Pigtails?"
"Vengeance!" Liz exclaimed as she climbed into the vehicle and slammed the door shut. Shaking his head and walking to his side, he pulled the ties out of his hair before slipping into the driver's seat.
They had navigated their way through downtown traffic and were on the highway before either of them spoke. "So," Will began, "bicycling. How very... Neil Armstrong of you." He winced. It was the first thing that had come to mind.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Um... thanks?" She paused a beat, then said, "A Ford pickup. How very blue collar of you."
"Charlie let me borrow it. He figured a bike wouldn't fit in my Tesla."
"That Charlie has got some smarts."
Will drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, trying to come up with something else to say. "So, a new bike, huh? Looking forward to it?"
"Depends," Liz responded, crossing her arms. "You planning on running your car over it too?"
"That was one time, and I said I was sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed by the memory.
She grinned, "No, you said, 'Here's a check to cover repairs, now get lost.'"
"I was in a hurry, and I didn't know you yet," Will defended.
"So that's how you treat all strangers whose bikes you smash. My my, Will Darcy, you're quite the diplomat."
"As I recall, you weren't exactly a delight that day either," he pointed out.
"Because you ran over my bike," she reiterated.
He sighed. "I don't see what the big deal is. It was a cruddy bike anyway."
"It was not cruddy. You're cruddy," she spat back.
Rolling his eyes, he said, "Tell me then, what was so special about this bike?"
Liz fell quiet. Enough time passed that he thought she was just ignoring him now. Just when he had made peace with the fact he was not going to get an answer, she finally spoke, her voice distant. "This is my second bike that's been stolen. The first was last month, and that one was the very definition of cruddy. I had bought it at a garage sale for five bucks, so I didn't really care.
"I was going to buy a new one, but I went digging through my garage first to see if I could find something to ride in the meantime. I dug around in there for a while until finally, under some boxes and covered in cobwebs, a found a bike." A soft, sad smile appeared on Liz's face. "It was my bike. We... my dad and I, that is, had built it from scratch when I was barely a teenager. It was definitely not this amazing bike or anything, but to me, it was the best thing in the world because it was something my father and I had worked on together. We had even left our marks on it: we had scratched the images of a bear and a bee onto the bottom of the frame. Because I was his Little Bee, and he was my Big Bear." Her cheeks colored slightly pink at that statement. To anyone else, it would have been practically imperceptible.
Her face then went blank. "My dad died a few years ago. My mother, my sisters, me... we all took it hard. I can easily say it was the worst time in my life. He was not only my dad, he was my best friend. To have him taken away from me, knowing I would never see him again, it was... awful."
She took a shaky breath before continuing, "But, life goes on. I'm okay now, as okay as anyone can be, you know? It's just that... when I found this bike, forgotten and gathering dust for I don't know how many years... well, call me stupid, but it was like finding a link to my old man again. Like a message from him from the beyond, as cliché as that might sound. To me, it wasn't just a bike, it was... was..." she stopped, unable to put her thoughts into words.
"Comfort," Will offered faintly. She looked at him, and he added, "Warmth. Belonging. Protection. Love." She did not know it, but Will was very familiar with the emotions Liz had experienced, for the same had happened to him. Not just with one parent, but both. He was acutely aware of the pain involved, and just as aware of how the feelings that came with holding onto something, anything that connected you to the lost loved one. He unconsciously reach a hand towards his locket, kept hidden from sight under his shirt.
Liz gave him a small nod by way of response.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know," was all he could say. Liz nodded again before slowly turning her head to watch out the window. They rode the rest of the way in silence.
When they reached their destination, Will parked in the first space available on the curb, which was a couple of houses down from the address they needed. They got out, locked the doors behind them and walked the few extra yards. The neighborhood was not the prettiest, looking rather rundown what with a lot of lawns that seemed to go unwatered and peeling paint on the houses. But the house they were heading to took the cake. It had bags of trash that looked to be weeks old sitting on the front porch, a broken window that was closed up with cardboard, and the house itself seemed to slant slightly to the left.
Will stopped for a second on the sidewalk to take it in. "Classy joint."
"Hey, I'm just here about a bike. It's not like I'm expecting 5-star accommodations." She glanced back at him, a bit of a playful spark having returned to her eyes. "So suck it up, princess," she said cheekily.
He shrugged and quickened his pace to follow her up the step leading to the front door. The doorbell didn't do anything when she pressed it, so she knocked out 'Shave and a Haircut' against the door. A few seconds passed before it opened, but only slightly as there was a door chain in place, and all they could see was someone's eye from the other side.
It blinked and studied them, then a male voice asked, "What do you want?"
Doing her best game show host voice, Liz replied, "I'm Ed McMahon, here with balloons and a giant ass check with your name on it!"
There was silence as the eye shifted from her, to Will, then back to her again. Then, "I don't see any balloons."
"Seriously?" she asked. "That's what tipped you off? Not the fact that I'm not holding an absurdly large check or that, you know, I'm not some old dude? At least, last time I checked, I wasn't. I'm not, right?" She looked to Will, who closed his eyes and shook his head. Clearing her throat, Liz said, "Okay, let's try this again. Hi, I'm Elizabeth Bennet, we spoke on the phone."
Another second passed where you could almost hear his brain processing this information. "Oh, right. You were interested in the bike. Hang on." He closed the door, sounds of the chain being slid out of its catch could be heard, then the door opened fully. A man with scruffy, sandy blond hair, rusty brown eyes, and stubble stepped out. He was tall, but Will had at least a good 6 inches on him. He was wearing an open bathrobe with a dirty t-shirt and boxers. He looked like he may have been attractive if he decided clean himself up. He looked at Will again, and questioned, "Who's he?"
"Oh, just the help," she responded, winking at Will before returning her attention to the other guy. "And you must be George Wickham."
She extended her hand to him. He took it, but instead of proceeding with a handshake, he was suddenly all charm and delicately placed a kiss upon her knuckles. "Enchanté, mademoiselle."
Liz smirked and responded, "If I'm not mistaken, it would seem there is a gentleman hiding beneath all of that."
He looked down at himself, then returned her smile with a dashing one of his own. "Those who form hurried judgements upon that which seems, see little of what truly is."
"And a poet to boot. Will wonders never cease," Liz chuckled. "Well, to that I say, clothes and manners do not make the man; but when he is made, they greatly improve his appearance."
Will watched their exchange with a sour look. She couldn't actually being lapping up this cheeseball's lines, could she? He sighed. How he wished he had the talent of conversing so openly and easily with others, instead of lashing out or clamming up like an ignoramus.
"The bike's in my backyard. Come have a look at it," George said, heading towards the withered gate at the side of the house. Liz and Will followed as he reached over, unlatched the lock, and lead them into the back.
The yard was full of dead bushes and overgrown weeds. Standing atop some cracked pavement was one lonely bicycle. It was a faded green and was old, but in a good, well-used kind of way. The handle grips had cheetah spots decorating them, also in green. Washed out paw prints adored the flat sides of the peddles.
"Mind if I take a closer look?" Liz asked.
George shook his head. "Nope. Be my guest, darling." Liz smiled in response, then walked over to the bike and knelt down next to the peddle, her finger trailing over the gears. George watched her back for a second, then turned to Will and inquired in a low voice, "So, you her boyfriend?"
He raised an eyebrow at the question. Then reluctantly stated, "No."
"Then she's on the market?" George looked at her again, tilting his head to one side and letting out a soft whistle. "Think I'm going to have to tap that."
Will may have only been 6 inches taller than the man, but he suddenly towered over him, the subtle hint of violence etched in every line of his body. "No," he repeated. This time however, there was a deathly calm to it. George visibly paled.
"Looks good," Liz could be heard saying as she walked back over to them, dusting off her hands and apparently oblivious to the conversation that had just occurred. "Would it be alright if I took it out for a test ride? You know, just to make sure it feels right?"
George was still staring at Will, who was now just inspecting the gutters and appearing disinterested in the whole situation. George dragged his eyes away to nod shakily at her. "Um, y- yeah, sure, that'd be fine."
"Thanks," she chirped. She nudged the kickstand up with her foot and walked the bike out of the backyard, with Will coming after, narrowing his eyes at George who had taken up the rear.
George maintained a careful distance from Will, edging around him to walk over to his porch. He called, "I'll be here when your done taking it for a spin, then we can talk price." He pushed a trash bag off of a rickety old rocking chair that stood vigil on the deck and took a seat.
Liz gave him the thumbs-up as she rolled the bike down the driveway. "Just need to find a more open space, I'll be right back," she called back, before walking it further down the sidewalk. Will walked beside her with long strides.
When they had covered several feet, Will gave her a sidelong glance. She was still leading the bicycle alongside her. "You are actually go to ride it at some point, right? I mean, if you think that's riding a bike, you're sadly mistaken," he teased.
"I know. I don't need to ride it," she replied, keeping her eyes straight ahead as they approached Charlie's truck.
He squinted one curious eye at her. "But didn't you say you needed to get a feel for it, or something?"
"Nope. I already know it feels perfect." Liz turned and stopped behind the pickup. She then hefted the bike up off the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"What's it look like?" she responded nonchalantly as she tossed it up and over into the cargo area.
His eyes widened and he rushed to join her behind the vehicle. "It looks like you're stealing it. You can't steal." He added hastily in a whisper, "It's illegal!"
She frowned up at him, then rolled her eyes and reached into the bed. She grabbed it by the wheels and tilted the bike up upside-down so he could see under the frame. "I think it's okay if it's my bike that I'm stealing."
Will blinked, then looked at where Liz indicated. There, on the bar that was the underbelly of the bike frame, were two etchings. One was of a bear - or maybe more of a teddy bear - with a rather confused look on its face. The other was of a more crudely drawn bee with wings far too small for its bulbous body. They had clearly been carved into the body of the bike long ago.
Will opened his mouth, then immediately closed it. Exactly four seconds passed, then he opened it again to say, "This is your bike." Pointing a thumb back towards the house they had left, he said, "He... stole it?"
"Very good! Welcome to the head of the class," she responded, patting him on the head by way of reward. She then walked to the passenger side of the truck and looked at him pointedly. It took a bit longer for his brain to catch up, and then he fumbled with his keys and unlocked his door, got in and leaned over to unlock her side as well before starting up the car. "If you knew this whole time he was the thief, why were you so nice to him?"
She looked at him as if the answer should be obvious. "Because you think going on a murderous rampage and trying to break his door down while shouting, 'Give me back my bike, you low-life, scumbag bastard,' would have been a better approach?" He had to concede that point. He heard her mutter, "The jerk even misquoted Robert Southey."
Will asked, "But how did you find him?"
She took the paper that contained the printed directions off the dashboard and pointed at the photograph of the bike on it. "I looked on Craigslist hoping for a long shot, and it paid off. I figured not a lot of bikes in this area look like mine."
He made a u-turn and began to drive back the way they had come in. He was forced to come to a screeching halt however when George suddenly ran in front of the car. They stared at him as he slapped the pickup with one hand, pointed the other at them, and started yelling something angrily. The windows muffled out his words.
"You should run him over," Liz stated blandly.
With an equal amount of aloofness, he responded, "What, and get blood stains on the hood of Charlie's truck? He'd never forgive me."
"You're no fun."
Unbuckling his seat belt, he said, "I got this." He opened his door and stepped out.
George stormed around the front of the car to meet Will and sneered at him. "You better return my property, otherwise I'll call the cops on you!"
Will grinned wolfishly at him. "And tell them what? That someone is stealing the bike you stole? You know, I don't quite think the law will be on your side." George started at that, then had the decency to blanch. Will continued, "I suggest you walk away." George just stared dumbly at him. Will shrugged, then took a step towards him. George gave an unmanly squeak before quickly retreating to the safety of his home, the whole house quivering unsteadily as he slammed the door behind him.
Will snorted before buckling back in and pressing down on the gas peddle. Liz stared at him momentarily, before turning her eyes back to the road as it disappeared beneath them. She did not speak for a long time, but when she did, he almost didn't hear it.
"Thanks."
He simply nodded and said nothing.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This was an idea I had based off of a 2 sentences long story someone told me. I thought stealing her own bike back totally sounded like something a modern day Elizabeth Bennet would do, and I had to write this. I wanted to fit it into a full length P&P story I'm currently writing, but I just couldn't quite make it fit in with the setting/environment. Thus, this 1-shot was born. I have no idea what happens beyond this little bubble of time this event takes up, even though at times it seemed like I had a clue. Wickham was just thrown into the story because I felt he would be a good fit for the role of a bike-stealing scuzz-bucket. Obviously Will had no back story with this version of him - or maybe he did, and he just didn't recognize him. Who can tell? Anyhoo, I have no plans to continue on with this story. I just had fun writing it, and I hope you had fun reading it.
Some of you might remember me from my "I'm the One You Love to Hate" fanfic also on this site. To those of you out there, I say hello! Long time no see! As I mentioned, I am working a new, full length P&P fic. It is one of the ones I described on my profile and in my poll. There is a clear winner in the poll by the way and I must say I was a little surprised. Whether that's the one I'm actually writing or not, well I guess you'll never now ;) But feel free to stop by and vote as I'm always curious to see what people are interested in. Anyway, it might be a while before you see my new story, because as you may remember, I work at a snail's pace. But it was fun visiting again. You will see me again at some point, be it that story or another 1-shot that just happens to flit across my mind. Until then-