A Look

In which a certain website has somehow miraculously been taken down, while two friends discuss an epiphany, Catherine De Bourgh is an unkind witch, and one decides there is solace in that the camera, for once, is off.

Rated T for cursing like a sailor aboard the Dizzy ship. Sure to be cannonballed.

"There was a look."

She notices Charlotte eyeing her oddly. Actually, Lizzie feels pretty odd herself right now, too.

This whole thing… these past few months… it's really been messing with her worldview. A year ago, she would've bragged, "Yes, yes I know myself pretty darn well, thank you very much." In fact, she's pretty sure she has. Brag, that is, about a lot of things. Well, maybe not brag like Caroline Lee, but there's been some definite self-righteous airs on her part, nonetheless.

But - Lizzie now wonders whether she really knows herself at all. And if she could answer yes… could she say she likes who she's become?

Lizzie shakes her head, while Charlotte continues to eye her up and down. Lizzie decides there is solace in that the camera, for once, is off. They're in the den, as her room is still chock full of yoga mats and aquarium things and her mother and seahorses and meditation and… whatnot.

"But," Lizzie says finally. "That's not important anymore - not that it ever was, really." She takes to twisting her hands about in her lap. She can't seem to look at anything but the floor.

"The look?" Lizzie can hear the smirk to Charlotte's voice, coloring it in her familiar infuriating best fetus friend tone.

"Look," Lizzie shrugs. "All I care about right now is being there for my sister."

"Which you have been, diligently." Charlotte gives a confident, empathetic nod. "You were just saying earlier how Lydia's finally starting to open up to you, now that the website has somehow miraculously been taken down. You were saying she wished that -"

"Yeah," Lizzie cuts in, waving a dismissive hand. They've been over this too many times already. Why should they waste any more breath over Dickham? The asshole. "Yeah. I guess we're slowly earning the other's trust back or something."

The space fills with the hum of Jane opening and closing cupboards down the hall. It's just been a regular family reunion here lately. Plus Charlotte. Charlotte's good people.

And so in the glow of Char's open laptop on the desk beside them, they sit cross legged in the cushiony office chairs.

"Lizzie, don't you want to be happy?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said -"

"I know what you said I just - " Lizzie tries to come up with the right words. "What do you think it is I've been trying to do here? I've missed my baby sister and I just - " The thought stops. Where was she even going with it anyway? She just - what?

She hasn't had a decent night's sleep in what feels like ages. Distractedly, she tucks a haphazard hair behind her ear. What was she saying? What is she doing here even? She can't. Words fall out. "I think I almost miss when the world was black and white and simple." Her resolve crumbles then. Her shoulders cave, shaking. "Isn't that horrible?"

"Sweetie, I didn't mean -" Charlotte's right there in an instant.

More shaking. "No, Char." She falters. "I know, I know." Her head falls to fit in her trembling hands. "This just makes me doubt - everything - everything I've ever known. I can't trust myself anymore. It was just so easy to fall into that trap, that people must be either wholly good or wholly bad and just look how - "

"Lizzie, you couldn't have -"

Outside, the din of the kitchen can be heard, pots clinking, as the oven goes off. Inside, Charlotte's face appears backlit by her computer, ever glowing, ever present.

"I couldn't, I know. I know, exactly."

Charlotte smiles in her comforting way. "Believe it or not, I just wanted to talk about… not this catastrophe. And I know it looks bad, really bad, life ruining, all consuming. But this feeling will end. It's not your fault, and I think you deserve to talk some more about the look." Charlotte nudges shoulders then, switching gears. "Lizzie Bennet, protector and defender of all things sisterly," says Charlotte grandly. "You deserve to have a life of your own."

"Charlotte." Sitting up, Lizzie runs the back of a hand across her eyes. She blinks, speaking in the slow, dazed fashion of a Bennet. "Where is this all coming from?"

"The look."

"The look?"

"The look." Somehow, Charlotte draws the word into two syllables. Two confusing all-knowing infuriating syllables.

Although truth be told, Lizzie does really know Charlotte knows it was more than just a look in San Francisco. But she doesn't say so out loud. She doesn't have to… even if there was any way she could.

Messing with her worldview, things are black and white no longer. There has grown to be so much gray area in her life and Lizzie supposes she has to own up to it eventually. What is it they say about resistance and futility and all…?

Lizzie breathes out a jagged sigh. This admittance, it takes so much effort, though to fight it or give in, Lizzie still isn't sure. She barrels on anyway. "Charlotte, I -"

"Mmhmm?"

"I think I may be falling for…" She almost grimaces in her hesitation. "…Darcy."

Charlotte though, to Lizzie's chagrin, appears anything but surprised.

"I think I - " Lizzie lets out a bitter laugh, launching into her explanation. After all, she couldn't leave words like that just hanging out there in the universe, all by themselves. Lizzie feels she must explain. "Oh, I know I misjudged him, harshly." She twists her hands around, discomfited. "Much too harshly," she murmurs to the carpet. "Much too harshly."

Charlotte only smiles.

"It's just -" Lizzie grins, staring off somewhere beyond Charlotte, to a place hovering on the opposite wall. Her eyes go a bit unfocused, when she laughs then, remembering. "He was so nice while I was shadowing - like unnecessarily so. I mean -" Lizzie laughs again. She can't help herself, one part goofy energy, about five parts harried incredulousness. "I would never have faulted the guy for firing me or… I don't know, just not talking to me."

The room hums for a moment, while Lizzie thinks some more.

"It's like… in the span of the universe, that brief meeting of ours at the Gibson wedding didn't even really exist…" Lizzie hangs her head. "I felt insulted… I just… assumed on some level I suppose, like a total asshat, that if he didn't seem to like me, then of course the guy couldn't be likable. And so everything else was construed that way from then on. But…" Another disbelieving laugh sounds. The oven buzzes. The computer hums. "Everyone at Pemberley loves him. And now, I think I know why. And…"

Charlotte nods all the reassurances Lizzie needs before her heart kick starts and she's blathering on again.

"I guess it's not like I was entirely wrong before. Darcy does have his own… flaws, quirks, awkward faces, whatever. But…" Lizzie's eyes return to the carpet "Don't we all? Who am I to judge him so harshly?" She twists her hands into pretzels, murmuring to herself once more. "Much too harshly, indeed."

Charlotte full on grins in a manner which seems to say, "Well, thank goodness you'vefinally figured it out, it took you long enough, my thick-headed since fetuses best friend for life."

Instead, Charlotte only says, "Now, is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Her eyes tease in a way that claims it not as really a question at all expectant of an answer. But Lizzie gives one anyway.

"Actually, yes, I do have another confession to make."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, um." Lizzie scratches a nonexistent itch on her scalp a bit roughly. How to say this? How to say this? She shrugs. "Catherine De Bourgh stopped me on my way off campus about a week ago, asking if I um was…" How to say this? How do I say this out loud? All at once, Lizzie decides, just rip off the frigging bandage already. "…planningonbecomingengagedto erm… Darcy. And ugh." Lizzie looks heavenward, "Her stupid dog was in tow and it was so embarrassing, getting verbally abused in the middle of the quad surrounded by all these college kids." Lizzie backtracks, "This was shortly before the moment of my full on epiphany, I guess."

"You mean the moment you realized you're completely and totally in love with Darcy?"

"Could be in love with Darcy."

"Uh huh. So what'd you tell her?"

"Well, after the shock, I uh well…" Lizzie uncomfortably raises her hands in defeat. "I got mad."

"Of course you did."

"And I told her she could take her little Anniekins to a certain unmentionable location where the sun don't shine and do um, particularly uh, unspeakable things there, because… if she thinks she could control Will's life, let alone mine, she was sorely mistaken."

"Will's life, eh? First name basis now?"

Charlotte's mirth is almost too much for Lizzie to take. She blinks. "That's all you got out of that? Really?" She squeezes her eyes shut, thoroughly mortified at reliving the Catherine De Bourgh debacle, as if she could actually hear that awful snide voice in her ear now.

Then Charlotte pulls Lizzie out of the memory. "So do you think you'll ever see him again?"

Lizzie sighs. "Wouldn't count on it. Shot that horse in the face, awhile back, don't you think?" She eyes the white walls forlornly.

"But if you could?" Charlotte prompts.

"Wouldn't count on it."

"Hypothetically speaking."

Lizzie turns to face her full on. "No, I don't even think there'd be hope in even a hypothetical instance, so that is how hopeless this is. I mean, the guy is incredibly intelligent, successful, brave, kind, honest, loyal, well meaning - " Lizzie shakes herself, momentarily distracted. "He's a guy who deserves more than some poor judgmental grad student who rejected him with practically the entire internet as witness to view over and over and over again, okay? Like, who even does that except egomaniacal…" Lizzie frowns. "…me?"

Charlotte nods gravely, concealing an odd grin. "Okay."

Lizzie shifts in her seat. "Um… Charlotte…?"

In the briefest of seconds, Charlotte then turns around, clicks a button on her computer and reveals a hidden window. Their faces stare back at them, Charlotte's triumphant out of battle and Lizzie's dumbstruck in utmost horror.

"Her name is Lizzie Bennet…"

"Charlotte."

"…and Will Darcy – "

Royal grin and terrified eyes mirror now on the screen before them.

"WHAT –"

"– this'll eat your heart out!"

"DID YOU JUST-?!"

"Domino, end recording!"

Lizzie sits there for the longest of moments. Perhaps it is an eternity. Charlotte pats her knee.

"I knew there was a certain look about you two. And I think he deserves to know you see him just as he sees you."

"But Charlotte -" There are so many things crossing her mind right then in that quiet enveloping moment (like bitch fuck ass tits damn fuck damn it to fucking hell why no why what will he say if he sees this does he even watch the videos anymore no of course he doesn't what sane person would oh no oh no oh no no no no non onononononononono) but she can't decide on exactly the right ones.

Tongue-tied is what she is. Thoroughly, hopelessly, utterly tongue-tied.

"You can thank me later." Charlotte nudges her shoulder. "You're welcome, besty."