Title: Really no idea, suggestions?

Rated: T/PG-13 …hopefully I won't have to bring it up to M…depends on how it goes with Darcy and Elizabeth…ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Sorry had, to get that out of my system.

Author's Note: This is a songfic…sort of. It was originally a oneshot, but I was typing into the early hours of the morning, so it's still not finished. Normally I don't write first person. And I really don't write romance. But 'Misery Business' just fitted this so perfectly, I had together this out. So be prepared for really bad writing. :P And I think Lizzie seems like she has ADD. Her thoughts fly all over the place. And she kind of seems ditsy. 0.o And does anybody else sometimes feel like calling Wickham "Wicked ham" instead? I really dislike the Bingley sisters and Wickham…so mwahahah!

Songfic: I'm using the clean version of 'Misery Business', like the squeaky clean version, if you need the original version, there's this thing called "Google search" and you can look it up there.

Humour: If this isn't really all that funny, then tell me, and I'll remove the 'Humour' genre. It's mostly sarcasm, irony, and deadpanning…so some people get it, and some people don't. *shrug* Especially some people.

Darn it. Darn my luck. That was just so awkward, walking in on Caroline and Darcy. Ick. I couldn't believe- actually I could believe they would be making out at work. Caroline literally threw herself at every rich guy she met. But it's not like it was my fault, I mean I knocked and everything! I crash into something and fall down.

"Sorry!" We cry out simultaneously. Mr. Wickham smiles as he helps me up.

"Nah. It was my fault. Wasn't looking where I was going."

"Want to do dinner on Friday?" He asks.

"Sure."

"Same place?"

"Yep. See ya."

Caroline Bingley. Gosh was she annoying. She just irritates me by simply living. I try to clear my mind of her. Darcy deserves better. What? What the heck am I thinking? Heck, Darcy deserves every bit of bad luck that goes his way. He manages to get Caroline promoted instead of Wickham. And Wickham deserves to be manager way more than Caroline. Anyways, what am I going to wear? Yellow was Wickham's favourite colour and he swears it looks fabulous on me, but I think it clashes like heck.

Wickham was so nice. He had brought flowers. I place them in a vase on the table and grab my iPod to go outside for a walk. How come all the worst people get the best luck? I turn and see Darcy. I almost turn around and go the other way. Why? I have nothing to fear. I don't even have to talk to him. Was his hair always that messy? Did he- ew! What is that on the ground? I turn abruptly to avoid stepping on it and crash into…Darcy. Duh, with my luck, who else would I expect? I reflexively catch something that falls out of his hand. His phone.

"Watch where you're going."

"Oh I was. See that thing I was trying to avoid?"

"What is that? Give me my phone."

"Sheesh. It's not like I was trying to steal it."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were."

I drop the phone in his hand and continue walking.

Wickham and I walk toward his house from the theatre. My phone rings.

"Wait." I walk far enough away from Wickham so he can't hear.

"Heya Liz!"

"Hm?"

"I was looking all over for you."

"Stalker!"

"Bad news. So um Wickham was ah um." I freeze.

"Was what?"

"Um sleeping with um uh ah how do I say this?"

"Someone else." I say blandly.

"Yeah, basically. Don't kill the messenger. Wait, don't tell me he's right next to you."

"Uh, actually just out of hearing. Wait a sec, how'd you know this?"

"I have sources."

"So gossip?"

"Yeah. But I really trust this source."

"'Kay. Then. I'll talk to him."
I hang up.

We enter his house.

"Wickham?"

"Yeah?"

How the heck do I say this? "Are you a virgin?"

"HA! No." He laughs then, stares at me. "Like anyone over the age of 16 is! The last girl was 14 or something."

"You are so sick." I turn and slam the door. It's midnight. I walk home.

I hate going anywhere at night alone. I call Richard.

"Hiya Liz! Whaddaya want?"

"Um…could you drive me to the store?"

"It's 11! Scared? Kidding. Kay. Be there in a few minutes."

We walk toward the parking lot. Someone grabs me and drags me toward an alley.

It's Wickham. He smiles wickedly.

"I'm tired of waiting for you. And the others just couldn't satisfy me."

No comprehendo. Is he drunk or starving to death? He grabs my shirt and I try to bite the hand that's covering my mouth. Where the heck is Richard? And then Wickham pushes me to the ground. Evil man. Then I realise he's been knocked out.

"Sorry Lizzie. You okay?"

"Yesh. Ugh. That guy Weighs a ton."

"You are a guy magnet."

"Collins with his in denial theory and now Wickham. Yeah. I guess."

"Elizabeth? Do you have the reports ready?"

"Ye-no. I was going to finish them yesterday night. But-"

"I'm going to go talk to Ms. Bingley about this."

"You mean the future Ms. Darcy." He turns red.

"What? You'll regret what you just said."

"Sure. Sure."

I bet I just lost my job. But whatever. I can't stand any of them. Ms. Bingley, Mr. Collins, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham. I guess Charlotte's nice enough. Jane's going to lecture me. My mom's going to freak.

Darcy sits down next to me and I start to think up some insult.

"Do you have those reports? Or have you been busy with Wickham?"

"Fitzwilliam! Shut up." Richard hisses. He jabs Darcy in the ribs.

"Fine."

"No. I'll type them up really soon." I turn back to my lunch.

Darcy appears at my door. He opens his mouth.

"Reports? Almost done. Ten minutes."

"Okay." he seems awkward. "So Richard told me about what happened yesterday." I continue typing.

"I'm sorry."

I shrug and print out the reports. I bit my lip and hand him the reports. He pats my head.

"You know I'm not a dog." I snap.

"So…are you free on Friday? I have tickets to the movies…"

"What about Caroline?"

"Have you ever tried to watch a movie with her? It's ridiculous."

"Then why me?"

"I was just asking." he snaps.

"Then go 'just ask' someone else."

"Fine. I will."

Mr. Bingley was holding a fancy party at his mansion. He's a lot better than his sister. I have no idea why they're related. Jane made me promise to go. I wear a midnight blue dress. I pin my hair up and wove in some silver ribbons. Semi-formal/Semi-casual.

I hear the sarcastic voice of Darcy.

"You didn't have to impress me."

"Who said I cared about what you thought?"

"Can't take a compliment, can you?"

"You compliment me? Ha." I am kind of flattered though.

"Well you look absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Way more than impressive." Richard smile and holds out his hand.

"May I have this dance?" He leads me onto the dance floor.

"Huh. And J thought you were a much better dancer than that." Darcy smirks.

"Miss Bennet. May I?"

"I'm not some object for you two to show off, you know." But for some crazy reason, I put my hand on top of his.

I head toward the refreshment table. Caroline digs her claws- I mean nails into my shoulder.

"Don't you dare steal Mr. Darcy from me."

"Oh? And why not?" Her face fills with jealous rage and she reachs out to claw me. I grabb her wrist.

"Bad kitty." I smile and pat her on the bead and leave her confused.

Ms. DeBourgh, a rather…large woman approaches me. She looks absolutely ridiculous wearing a crimson dress, reminding me of Madame Morrible from Wicked.

"Caroline, sweet girl, told me about you and my nephew Fitzwilliam?"

"Fitz-who?"

"Fitzwilliam."

"Nope. Never heard of a 'Fitzwilliam'."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"Oh, that guy. Fitzwilliam, really. Does he have a number?"

"Pardon?"

"Roman numerals? Fitzwilliam Darcy the Sixth?"

"No… You were dancing with him. He's marrying my daughter. So you and your charms better stay away from him." What? I thought Caroline… Ms. DeBourgh clicks her tongue.

"It's not as if he danced with me because he likes me. He has a huge pride problem."

"Well, of course. My mistake." She disappears into the crowd.

Caroline places her hand on Darcy's arm and smiles at me. Jealousy shot through me. Why the heck was I jealous? Just because Darcy looked so handsome and was rich, and-

"Earth to Elizabeth Bennet. Lizzie."

"Hm?" I blush and turn to Richard.

"How come no one will dance with you?" He asks.

"I bet the rumours are flying that I'm 'charming' Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"What? I'm not even going to ask. Care to dance?"

"Lizzie!" Jane calls.

"Heya!"

"Aren't you having fun?"

"I would be. If people weren't gossiping literally behind my back. And someone other than Richard danced with me."

"For the record, it's just out of pity."

"Hey!" I playfully push him.

"I speak the truth and nothing but the truth. Hey Charles, care to switch partners?"

"I seriously don't get this whole 'dance' concept. I seriously doubt anybody would notice if we all turned into statues."

"Well you would be considerably heavier.…though whoever's dancing with Ms. DeBourgh will be most relieved."

"Ha."

My luck really must be running out. I was running late, got splashed waist high with mud and the door was stuck. I swipe my card again but the door won't budge. Darcy smirks and opens the door, which of course causes me to go sprawling across the floor. He dives to catch my laptop.

"Well you could have tried to save me instead of the laptop."

"Oh?" he raises an eyebrow. "Really, so I guess I'll just drop this…"

"Don't you dare!"

"Well you're look absolutely stunning today."

"Don't be sarcastic."

"Who said I was being sarcastic? Ms. DeBourgh would be shocked to death about your appearance."

"Of course. You're so supportive." He holds out his hand.

"What? I'm not going to pay you!"

"I'm trying to help you up." I reach up and grab his hand. It's not like I'm all that dignified right now. Heck, he could snap a photo and post it on the web and nobody would be able to tell it was me. They'd think it was a scene from a movie. Like right after someone lives in the woods after three weeks with no supplies.
"Here." He hands me the laptop.

"Thanks." I mutter.

"And you do look nice…in an Amazon warrior princess kind of way…"

"Of course. Amazon warrior princess is so in this year."

"I have a change in clothes in my office…" He trails off.

"Because you often entertain women who need a change of clothes." That just sounded really gross if you thought about it…but for all I knew, it could be true.

"No!"

"Then why the heck would you…"

"I have a sister okay? She's in a band, and have you seen what they're wearing these days? I can't go anywhere with her without getting weird looks. And Ms. DeBourgh..."

"Plausible."

"I've never kissed anyone not related bef-"

"Strike one. Lie."

"Okay. Rewording. I've never kissed a woman willingly."

"So you were force kissed? The horrors. No wonder you turned out like this. I'm surprised you haven't gotten ahold of the butter knife yet." He pulls out a box of clothes.

"Er. Find something that fits."

"Do you have split personality disorder?" I find some clothes that look like they would fit and go to the bathroom to change.

I had to stay a few extra hours and it was dark when I left. I hate the things that hide in the dark. I walk quickly. Avoiding alleys and potential Wickham hiding places. I'm not weak…but I'm no match for a knife or a gun. Footsteps. I turn my head to pinpoint them. Someone put their arms around me.

"Giana-"
I whipped around and slapped him. He recoiled as if I just slapped him, which I just did. Yep, it was a him, and not some female with a really low pitched voice. Snap, I was probably mistaken. Because last time I checked, I wasn't 'Giana'. He was taller than Wickham…snap, no it couldn't be, no, darn him, darn him, heck be darned.

"What the freak Darcy!"

"Snap."

"Explanation? Finally cracked from all of Caroline's lip raping?"

"Excuse me?"

"No. I'm not excusing you till you explain what the freaking heck you were thinking. And who's Giana?"

"You're the exact same height as my sister…and I haven't seen her forever. Okay, laugh all you want."

"Geesh. And for a second, I thought you were Wickham. That's why I slapped you. Thought if I knew who it was, I would've still slapped you. You're really old fashioned aren't you?"

"Blame my aunt."

"Ms. DeBourgh?"

"Yes. I mean who believes in planned marriages anymore?"

"No one. We all believe in randomly hugging archenemies at night."

"Whatever. It's not like you can tell anyone. It'd just make the rumours worse."

"Whatever. Why're you still following me?"

"It's night. And Wickham's on the loose. What more need be said?"

"Oh what the heck. But we're still going to be at each other's throats."

"Of course. M'lady." He said in a posh voice.

"Okay. Now you're just faking it."

I spin around on the bar stool. I sip my apple cider (nope, not an alcoholic) and look around. The darker side of the room was full of the usual alcohol and hormones in overdrive. I'm all for the dark side taking over the world with mad science, but not alcohol and etc. Someone familiar caught my eye. That wasn't…with my luck, it probably was Caroline Bingley. With…Wickham? I blink. And they were getting slightly PG-13/R ish. I look away. Then I glance back. Caroline obviously had way too much whatever she was drinking. I left in a hurry. Dialing Charles and pondering whether or not to call Darcy. Charles practically flies here and drags her out. I decide to let the rumours tell Darcy.

He didn't seem affected by the rumours. Maybe because the rumours were so over exaggerated, they couldn't possibly be believed.

With our deadline looming ahead, he takes every opportunity to snap at someone. People are pushing me to confront him.
"Lizzie! You're his archenemy! Do something about him!"

"Lizzie…could you like insult him or something?"

I gave in.

"Darcy. Quit picking on everyone."

"I'm not picking on everyone! How dare you suggest-"

"In denial."

"That's Collin's phrase."

"Don't remind me."

"Okay fine. I'm madly ragingly completely in love with you. Satisfied? I think about you all the time! And you know how many people would be furious at me?"
Blink. Blink.
"Really. And I believe you."

"You do?"

"No. I was being sarcastic."