Title: Let Me Go (We'll Meet Again Soon)

Pairing: L/D

Genre: Angst/Drama

Universe: LBD after EP 81

Rating: K+

Summary: [Lizzie Bennet Diaries ] It's a tedious balance, wooing Elizabeth Bennet without her knowing it.

A/N: Characters belong to Jane Austen, modern adaptation to Hank Green and Bernie Su. Title from lyrics to Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men. WILL GET CANNNNNONBALLLLLLLLED. This is giant. I REGRET NOTHING. Also, no beta = seasoned with obvious flaws. Oh, and this is for the LJ LBD prompt meme. ENJOY!

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She's leaving Pemberley Digital in ten days. Ten days from the official completion of her degree and the start of another phase of uncertainty. Not that Lizzie hasn't applied for jobs. She has. Several in fact. All she needs to do is make it to the conference on Friday and it's all downhill from there.

Lizzie swallows the swell of fear inside her with the last of her champagne and turns at the call of her name. Right now she's in a dress that's far too fancy, heels that are far too tall, and surrounded by people that are far too beautiful.

It's the 27th annual Support the Arts Gala, founded by Pemberley Digital. As a fundraiser, it's the highest grossing in the state. As an event, it's second to none.

"Lizzie," Julia, the director for media research and project development is beaming, "I know you aren't leaving for a few days, but I just want to say how happy I am to have had you in our department. Truly, it's been a pleasure."

"I can't thank you enough, I feel like the past few weeks have been exceptionally eye-opening and have been such a refreshing change. I cannot wait for the convention on Friday."

"Neither can I! Our presentation will easily take the forefront." Julia turns and grabs the arm of Marcus, the digital productions director. "Marcus here was reviewing the footage and hasn't stopped raving."

Lizzie hopes she isn't blushing, but the alcohol and the warmth in the room are getting the better of her. The conversation grows in length and people, to the point where Lizzie finds herself among many of the same co-workers she's been with for the past two weeks, smiling and laughing at their jokes and candor. She's been rotating through different departments at Pemberley Digital and this has been the most obvious fit. These people are certifiable geeks; people who work for a living and don't have multiple homes for skiing or summer leisure. They enjoy their work and they do it well. These are her people.

"Lizzie!" Gigi beckons from across the hall, her heels clacking quickly as she scuttles across the marble into Lizzie. "Umph. Sorry! I'm so excited you made it out tonight, are you having a good time?"

"Like I had a choice. You're the one that shoved me in this outfit," Lizzie states good-naturedly, soaking in the younger woman's infectious delight. "I truly am though. I saw you come in with Bing and Caroline. How are they?"

"Caroline looks fantastic, but…" Gigi leans in closer, "she had a dress malfunction and made a beeline to the restroom." Pulling away she swivels, looking for Bing. "He's around here somewhere. Said he wanted to grab you for a dance later."

Lizzie stiffens and turns back to Gigi, narrowing her eyes. "You said there wasn't going to be dancing at this thing."

"Did I?" Puppy-dog eyes. Big ones. "That's silly, Lizzie. This is a gala. Of course there is dancing."

"Silly, is it?" Lizzie frowns, looking for the nearest exit. "I'd like to hear you say that when Gus from accounting comes around asking you to dance for the seventh time."

"Lizzie, that was one time. Besides, we were at a club! Of course you were going to get asked to dance."

"Yes," Lizzie shoots back, "by a gay man. That's what Fritz promised. Excellent dancing and no chance of getting hit on. Not Gus with the grabby hands and bad cologne. Mission failure."

"You madame, are insufferable. Oh look, there he is!"

Turning, Lizzie expects to see Bing, but is instead met with a chest. A broad, tall man's chest. A Darcy chest.

"William, where have you been?! Have you seen Bing around here?"

Lizzie has yet to quite look all the way up at him, last time she made eye contact it was in the staff meeting yesterday and she found herself getting discombobulated.

Elizabeth Bennet does not get discombobulated.

At all.

Nope.

Nor does William Darcy.

Ever.

"Bing was just behind me," Darcy replies, his voice tight but smooth. "I think he was getting all of us some wine. Shall I call him?"

Gigi, having been instructed several times to stop meddling in her brother's affairs, seems displeased at bypassing another prime opportunity. Sure, Lizzie and William were almost friends now, but that doesn't mean she has to stop trying. Seizing her chance, she smiles and squeezes Lizzie's hand.

"No thanks, William, I see him over there. I'm going to ask if he needs some help."

Lizzie feels the last of her hope evaporate as she looks up at Darcy. Even though they've spent several hours alone at this point, she can't help but feel the awkwardness take hold once in a while. Sighing, she blurts the first thing that comes to mind.

"Sorry about the meeting yesterday, I get heated about the lack of thorough reporting on news sites."

The corner of Darcy's lip lifts upwards, a smirk by his standards. "I can tell. That's why Foster and Marcus are pushing for a weekly model, so as to encourage a higher standard of production."

"I was just talking to Marcus about that, actually." Lizzie feels the tension ease away. "He's hoping to launch by the summer."

"It will be sooner if Foster get's his way. I understand Dr. Gardiner is coming to the conference on Friday for your presentation, I presume?"

"She is, though it's more for evaluation purposes than anything. I think the presentation I've been working on with R&D has gotten her interest piqued. Don't be surprised if she starts haggling you about it in the upcoming months. She's rather persistent."

Darcy looks down at her and produces a full-fledged grin. "I can see why you sought her out as an advisor. I cannot imagine you working with someone who is anything but relentless."

Giving solid side-eye, Lizzie gives him a mock disparaging look and tries to ignore that almost tangible something floating between them. Darcy looks around and nods his head at a regal-looking older woman, obviously a patron. "That's Mrs. Carpenter. She donates twenty-five thousand a year, just to music alone."

"Ah, that's why she carries her dog around. To protect her wealth."

"She loves that oversized rat more than Catherine loves Annie."

They go back and forth, Darcy supplying pertinent information and Lizzie providing appropriate quips about the patrons. Lizzie enjoys the almost-smiles she evokes from the usually subdued host. At one point he makes a observation that makes her laugh. Loudly. Drawing the attention of others. She covers her mouth with one hand and turns away, bumping her shoulder into his. Darcy straightens and looks down at her, surprised by the contact.

That's the one thing they've avoided over the weeks. Contact. Of the physical sort —any kind.

Her laughter stops abruptly and the smile falls off her lips as she finds herself, yet again, caught by his gaze. The kind of gaze where she can't tell if she's done something wrong or if he's mentally trying to take a picture. It's all very perplexing. Fortunately Fitz soon breaks the moment with Bing and Gigi.

"Lizzie B you are lookin' fine to-night!" Fitz grabs her hands and pulls her close to kiss her cheeks. "Red dress, half shoulder, sweet heels, and," he turns her, "exposed back. Mmm hmmmm! Seriously. You look gorgeous."

"Thanks Fitz," Lizzie pulls away, a blush creeping up her neck. "You gentlemen are all looking rather dapper."

"Why thank you, Lizzie," Bing replies, handing Lizzie a glass of wine. "Gigi said Caroline will be over soon."

"Outstanding," Lizzie mumbles under her breath, loud enough only for Fritz to hear, causing him to choke on his sip. "Okay there, Fitz?"

Shooting Lizzie a look, he grins right back at her. "Never better, darling."

As if on cue, Caroline arrives, looking like she got her dress straight off the runway. Admittedly, Lizzie can't deny how beautiful Caroline looks.

"Lovely as always, Caroline," Fitz states amicably. "Your shoes! The Dior Fall collection, right?"

"Yes! I just got back from fashion week, it was to die for."

Lizzie feels her attention slipping as Fitz and Caroline fall into a discussion that was far above her head and price range. Bing turns and grins at her. 'Are you excited to graduate and be done with all this?"

Smiling up at him she nods. "Yes and no? Being a grad student has defined this part of my life for so long. It puts you in that weird stage of development where you're expected to know better but…"

"You don't necessarily have to be better?" he sighs into his glass. "I'm familiar with that state of flux. Med school has been a challenge. I… I have book smarts, but I tend to lack people skills."

Lizzie tilts her head at him, unsure. "I don't know if I agree with the second part, Bing. I just think you're too kind for your own good sometimes."

"Something I hope never changes," Darcy states from the other side of Bing. She catches his eye and feels uncertain again. "It's one of his best qualities, I think."

Lizzie chooses not to respond, wisely so, as the hall is called to attention for dinner to commence. All the patrons filter in to the ornately decorated dinning room, each taking a seat at their assigned tables. As much as Lizzie would've liked to be with her friends, this is also a chance for her to network. It was the primary way Gigi convinced Lizzie to attend. Yes the convention will be her prime networking location, however this is as good an opportunity as any. Her seat is at a table with only one person with whom she is familiar. Regardless, it's a time to make a good impression.

"Oh, Lizzie! Great. I'm glad you're at my table," says Joe, an associate in media research. He may or may not have asked her out to coffee a week before. She may or may not have accepted. "Let me introduce you to a few people…"

So, she puts on her best smile, commands some quick wit, and gets down to charming the figurative pants off some potential employers.

After toasts are given and speeches made, Darcy takes the stage to thank the vital members of the planning team and to honor his parents. Lizzie can't help but marvel how much he transforms himself in front of a crowd. How he can go from quiet and pensive, to eloquent and almost charming.

"… As most of you know, my mother is the reason we are all gathered this evening. I'd like to reflect on one of her favorite quotes: 'Life is not for the faint of heart.' She always felt that art and music and literature in their truest forms were an expression of one's innate essence, that … that if you were so lucky, so blessed, you could find a way to preserve it for generations to come, not only to be enjoyed, but to enrich the lives of others. This night is to celebrate her work and belief that art - all types, whether it be brush strokes on canvas, notes on a page, or life captured on film, should be pursued to it's fullest extent. Thank you for donating your time and funds, please have a great evening."

Everyone stands and cheers, not merely because of his words, but because of the event and his mother, well beloved in the local area. His parents ran the empire, but his mother certainly made her mark upon the community during the short time she traversed it. Remarkable didn't even begin to describe her.

For the thousandth of many times, she feels the flush of guilt at how wrongly she misread Darcy — not only his character, but also his entire station in life. The heavy-handed judgments she leveled at him afterward make her internally cringe with shame. Now Lizzie knows much more of the tragic history of the Darcy family, how William Darcy took over a digital empire at such a young age and raised his sister to the wonderful young woman she is today.

Now is not a time for shame, however. It is a time for dance and merriment. The small orchestra switches into a jazz ensemble and the music starts again with much feeling. Lizzie gets snatched up by fellow co-workers, male and female alike, spirits light. The energy overtakes her and she lets her cares fall away, if only for a short time.

"Lizzie, watch Bing and Caroline," Gigi calls out a several songs later. "They took swing-dancing lessons when they were younger. They're amazing!"

Indeed they are. She never thought she'd see the day that Caroline Lee would ever allow her brother to flip her over his head, but hey, to each her own. Lizzie can't wait to recount this for all posterity.

After the song ends, the group rejoins at a nearby bar table anchored by an unaffected Darcy. Caroline grabs some napkins and passes them around so the others may dab the light sheen of perspiration collecting on their skin.

"What I wouldn't do for a pint right now," Bing says as he looks over at Darcy and smiles. "Can't you do something about that?"

"Do not fret, Bing, refreshments are on the way." Darcy nods to a nearby waiter.

"You know that's one thing George was always good for, getting us beer, anytime day or night," Caroline muses.

"He sure knows how to party," nods Bing in agreement.

"How is George, by the way?" Caroline levels Lizzie with a knowing look. "Are you and he still…"

At once the room shrinks and starts to grow cold, Gigi stiffens beside her, clutching the table inconspicuously.

"George and I were never anything more than brief friends, really. I've since learned that he is someone I'd rather not associate with and haven't spoken to him in months," Lizzie's lips thin as she spots the waiter returning with their drinks. "Oh look! The beer has arrived."

As the waiter sets a glass before each of them at the table, she catches Fitz giving her a wink and Darcy raising his glass to her in silent gratitude. She flushes and takes a large sip, the carbonation a welcome distraction from the creeping awkwardness setting in. Fortunately, Fritz opens up with a rousing discussion of upstate breweries and he and Darcy get in a heated debate over local pale ale.

It'd all be very comical if Gigi would relinquish her grasp on the table.

"Hey, let's go outside, get some air?" Lizzie says quietly to the younger girl who nods in agreement and clamps down on Lizzie's arm. At least she let go of the poor table.

Once they reach the terrace just off the main hall, Lizzie can feel the tension leave Gigi's body. Her resilience is something that could be studied by scientists.

"Gigi — I," Lizzie starts, unsure of how to continue.

"Don't. It's not a big deal. George is an ass. A charming, manipulative, ass. I'm just glad you pulled back when you did."

"You watched those episodes?" Eyebrows darting upward in surprise, Lizzie bites her lip to keep her mouth shut. They continue walking, weaving around benches and long, blue-lit fountains that are flush to the ground.

"Not at first, no. Not until a couple weeks ago, actually. From across the room. And squinting between my fingers."

Lizzie places an arm around Gigi and squeezes her shoulders. "Silly girl. Why would you do that to yourself?"

Gigi is quiet for a few moments as they reach the edge of the balcony overlooking the bay and city lights. "You know how you feel being here now? How you've changed your mind about William and didn't insist on blindly continuing on in your hatred?"

"Wow, uh…" Lizzie sputters, at a loss. "Sure."

"Here's the thing, I wanted to watch them to see if I was just that stupid, or naive to let George consume me the way he did. Yes, part of me wanted to know if what…" she hesitates but pushes on, "if what we had was real or him working a scheme."

"Gigi, that's so tough. I can't imagine doing that."

"Can't you?" Gigi replies, looking at her sharply. "Our situations aren't the same, no. But I've watched all your videos. It's remarkable to watch someone grow and change as you have over the past year. I wanted to see if I could do the same; a way to ensure that I've actually grown, not just the semblance of it."

Lizzie looks away and sighs, emotions welling up in her. She wishes that she could take this girl, this wonderful, beautiful, slightly broken girl with her and keep her always.

"Lizzie? What's wrong, what did I say?" Gigi frowns at the look on Lizzie's face.

Rolling her eyes at her sentimentality she shakes her head, and smiles at Gigi. "Nothing, I'm just… I'm going to miss you so very much."

Gigi huffs at Lizzie's words, quickly enveloping her in a hug reminiscent of Lydia. Another piece of Lizzie's heart breaks, homesick for both her sisters.

"Ahem, I apologize for intruding, but I believe you have a gift to raffle off Gigi," Darcy states quietly.

The two women pull apart and smile at each other with tears in their eyes, laughing at their behavior. Gigi, swipes deftly beneath her eyes and smiles brightly at her brother. "Oh! This is the best part. Last year, we raffled off a safari in Africa. Come!"

"Be right there," Lizzie calls out as Gigi turns back and heads inside. She turns and glances at Darcy, looking somewhat disheveled and tired, yet still handsome. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks up to the balcony just as she turns to look at the view.

After a few moments of silence he speaks up. "Do I even want to know what I just came upon?"

"No, you don't." Looking down at her hands clasped along the railing, she smiles to herself and shakes her head. "Just know that your sister has a good head on her shoulders."

He hums in understanding, and casts his gaze out into the evening, watching the lights flicker in the distance. They're quiet, both enjoying the sounds of the city and each other. She never thought she'd reach this point: being in his company without feeling uncomfortable.

"I can see why you love it here, it is beautiful," she murmurs into the darkness.

"Beautiful." She doesn't catch the way he's looking at her or his slow nod as his eyes trace the length of her form from her bare shoulder down her backless dress, to the slit revealing a length of leg.

Sometimes, and he won't admit this until much later, when they're eating lunch together he'll get her wound up, just to watch her cheeks flush and eyes brighten with the ardor of one who enjoys a verbal spar. Although mostly not on purpose, occasionally he intentionally creates awkward situations around her, if only to see how she'll navigate out of it. They've both gotten much better in the past few weeks, once they got Gigi and Fritz to leave the alone. Sometimes though, sometimes Lizzie gets the better of him, leaving Darcy flustered and he reverts back to brooding.

If only she knew the power she had over him; if anyone did, really.

"If you look out that way," he leans down and points in the distance, "across the bridge, you'll see that jut of land. My parents used to take us there for picnics when we were kids."

He watches as she nods and turns ever so slightly to reply, "Sounds wonderful. You had dogs right? Did you play Frisbee and catch?"

"Yes, we had two dogs growing up. One was my father's and the other was my mother's. And yes, they were extraordinary at playing Frisbee."

Lizzie smiles again. He loves making her smile, laugh… pretty much anything that isn't frowning or reproachful. He also enjoys being her friend, if only because it allows them a reasonable amount of conversation without all the difficulty of dealing with feelings.

"We used to have more pets. All we have now is Kitty, and she's one hundred percent Lydia's. She'll even give Lydia high-fives if she holds out her palm."

She grins at the memory and her eyes cloud over. He wishes for them to make up because he can't stand to see that look on her face.

"You miss her very much."

A statement, an observation. Absolutely not a question. She sobers somewhat and nods. The breeze is picking up outside and the air is growing chilly. They should head in soon.

"What's that saying? 'You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone'? I do. I miss her. Once I get home I intend to devote some time in making amends. But right now, life is too…" She hesitates as her hair catches the wind.

"Hectic?" Darcy offers as she tucks her hair behind her ears. "I hope this has been a beneficial experience for you, Lizzie. I'd hate —"

"Oh stop," she cuts him off with a light touch on his arm, "you know how amazing your company is, so don't try to deny it. This was easily the best part of my studies, not only the work, but the friends I've made."

He grins at her, trying not to draw attention to the fact that she's left her hand on his arm. No matter, she removes it anyway, straightening as she does.

"We should head back inside," she states, knowing that their absence will soon be missed. She swivels around and starts walking to the doors.

Feeling emboldened by their easy camaraderie thus far, he plucks up his courage and swallows his anxiety.

"Not so fast," he says, his voice sturdy though his heart is not. "I have a bone to pick with you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

She turns with her hands on her hips, eyebrows quirked and eyes narrowed. "You do, do you?"

"I recall a few weeks back, you and a couple others remarking on my dancing skills," he says as he steps a little closer causing her to turn aside and chuckle. "Something about my chin doing this number," he ducks his chin, "when I'm uncomfortable?"

Lizzie can't help but be mortified and gleeful at once. She laughs despite proper decorum and looks up at him bashfully. "What do you want me to say? It's true. It's your go-to move. That, or shuffling off, mumbling four-syllable words."

"Right, well. Please," he takes a step backward and bows, holding out his hand to her, "allow me to clear my good name and do me the honor of this dance."

The music is floating out through in-ground speakers, still jazzy, but slower as the evening dies down. She sighs at him and rolls her eyes, reaching out to clasp his hand all the same. He draws her in to a proper distance and starts moving them around the terrace, deftly dodging benches, shrubs, and fountains.

"You've had lessons," Lizzie tries to ignore that twisting sensation in her abdomen, telling her that she's walking a line she's not ready to cross.

"Perhaps." He breaks contact and spins her elegantly, bringing her back in. He can't help the unbidden smile when her light laughter fills the air.

"I can't believe you've been holding back on me." The song eases into another — a solo piano playing what she believes is 'Fools Rush In.'

"Who me?" He pulls her closer, his hand warm upon the bare skin of her back, causing her to lose focus of her surroundings. His voice is low and quiet as he whispers: "Never."

Oh God. She's not ready for this. The Darcy that can be (dare she think it?) charming with her when no one's around; who can make the oddest, most apropos observations at the most unusual times; who still prefers to remain mostly quiet when they sit around, asking her questions just to spin her up. She's only come around to seeing him as a normal person. As… as a friend.

But right now, she is feeling everything unfriendly toward him, and she really does not have the time or emotional capacity for that. Not to mention he's kind of her boss, and the world he lives in is so completely different from her own — no, best not to let her mind wander down that road. Compartmentalization at it's finest.

She'll be gone in ten days and then they can both move on with their lives. Yes. Move on.

Meanwhile Darcy leads her gracefully around the terrace, no signs of discomfort, only ease. He does his best to maintain some semblance of decorum as they glide around, hoping to keep this exchange as unencumbered as possible. Over the past few weeks, he's learned that the quickest way to increase her wariness is to look at her too long, sit too close, or dwell in anyway upon her time at Collins and Collins.

"Do you realize how many people would love to see us dancing right now?" Darcy's voice is rumbly at such a close distance.

Smirking, Lizzie glances up at him and shakes her head. "I can think of one or two that would equally love for us to never come in contact."

"Yes, because a dance will certainly seal our fate," he replies lightly.

"Hey, you never know. I mean, you may be the CEO of a large corporation, but I am a soon-to-be master of mass communications. Emphasis on Master."

"And all shall bow down at your brilliance?"

Her laughter warms him from head to toe. "I'm glad we finally see eye-to-eye."

He releases his grip and lets her out for another spin, pulling her back in effortlessly — not too close not too far. It's a tedious balance, wooing Elizabeth Bennet without her knowing it.

Of course, her mind is wandering again, up that forbidden road. All she can think about is how... easy it is. How he knows how to be light and carefree when he doesn't get caught up in himself or his thoughts. This is the William Darcy she enjoys. And yes, maybe she has feelings for him. But right now, she is still an intern and is not fooling herself one moment into thinking that this could in some way work out. No matter what, she will never quite be able to forget Jane's heartbreak or the careless treatment of those she holds dear. Caution is her shield and she holds it close.

So she'll take this dance, enjoy his subtle generosity, then bid him goodnight and be done with all of it.

Just before they part, Darcy feels her shiver and cannot deny that the temperature has dropped. Ever the gentleman, he quickly drapes his jacket over her shoulders, much to her relief. Disregard that she shivered because Darcy was unconsciously rubbing his thumb along her lower back, causing chill bumps to spread along her skin.

"Thank you, kind sir. You have done your family a great service, I promise to ensure that no man will ever speak naught of your dancing skills," Lizzie offers as she looks up briefly, not wanting to get caught in his gaze. Fortunately (maybe?) he nods and steps aside, letting her pass by then follows. As she weaves her way around the maze of shrubs and fountains (no small feat in towering heels), she turns when she hears a gasp followed by a loud splash.

Darcy (who may have been distracted watching Lizzie swaggerstrut in front of him) tripped into one of those lovely low-profile fountains. Later it'll seem like it occurred in slow motion, everything down to the face Darcy makes upon contact. Lizzie will laugh about it many years later when she recounts the tale.

"Darcy! Are you alright? Oh my God. I can't even…" she tries to bend down to lend a hand but her dress and those heels are not in agreement. Steadying herself, she can only watch, stunned as he sits up in the fountain. Looking up at her as he shakes his head, completely and utterly mortified. Eventually, she loses it and starts laughing at him and the whole situation, because William Darcy tripping over thin air into a very obvious fountain is nothing if not laughable.

"I can't…." Lizzie laughs, unable to catch her breath as Darcy rises out of the water. "I don't understand. How…" more laughter. He rolls his eyes and huffs. "How did you… what did you…" she gives up and tries to regulate her breathing. "Whew. Yeah. Wow. Okay. I'm good. I'm good." She looks up at his face, soaked with water dripping from his hair. Nope she's not good. Laughter. Again. "I'm so sorry. But this is too much. Sorry."

Darcy, though vexed, can't help but laugh as well. He undoes his bowtie, which feels like it is starting to shrink, and unbuttons the top button. He steps closer to her and shakes his hair, sprinkling cold water on her in an attempt to get her quiet.

"Fished yet?"

"Yikes! Yeah, okay. I got it. Sorry. I'll stop," she smiles up at him once he quits. "I'll stop."

She clears her throat and works to maintain her composure, biting her lip in the process. Of course, that brings Darcy's attention to her lips. And then they both seem to observe their close proximity and the fact that his shirt is clinging to his torso. Lizzie's eyes drift downward on their own volition and she has to shake her head to break the distraction.

"Your jacket. I should… here," she removes it quickly and throws it about him like a cape. "You need it more than I do… now."

They are unbearably close as she tugs the lapels of his jacket. She can't figure out what she's doing and all he can focus on is Lizzie. He moves forward just a step; his ice-cold fingers graze the column of her neck and neither one can look away, both drifting imperceptibly closer. He can feel her breath on his lips when reality hits her and she stops and jerks down slightly, his lips closer now to her forehead. He pulls his hand back and ignores the sudden sweeping chill moving through his body.

"Will…" she whispers, shaking her head. "We can't… I can't…"

Even though she's never called him by his first name, the words crush him more than he'd like to admit and he straightens again, using his height to gain distance. "Sorry, I… Please don't… Forget it."

"No it's not that, it's just —"

Suddenly the nearest door sweeps open to reveal Bing, looking concerned. They both step apart, putting more space between them.

"Lizzie? Are you out here?" Bing is squinting in the dim outdoors lighting.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Both she and Darcy approach Bing quickly.

"Jane just called me," he hesitates upon seeing a soaking wet Darcy. Lizzie's eyebrows dart upwards at the thought of Jane even contacting Bing. "She's been trying to reach you all night. Something's happened with Lydia... and George."

Suddenly, Lizzie's world bottoms out and she is very sober. "What!? What do you mean?"

"She wouldn't say, just that she needs you to call her back and try to get on the next flight home."

Lizzie doesn't bother to respond. She heads inside, goes straight to her purse and pulls out her phone, twelve voicemails. "Damnit. I can't believe this. I need to go. I have to go. Now. I…"

Bing and Darcy, who is ignoring all the unusual looks he's receiving due to his appearance, escort Lizzie outside. "Here, my driver will take you home, head straight to the airport after you collect your things. You'll be on the next flight home."

Darcy holds open the limo door as Lizzie climbs in. She pauses and looks at him for a moment, unable to comprehend how he can be so kind after she shut him down. Again. Words cannot express what she is feeling. She presses her hand on top of his and pauses. "Darcy, I —"

He shrugs and looks down. "It's Will." He closes the door carefully behind her and bends to speak to her. "Let me know if you need anything at all."

"Thank you. For everything."

Nodding, he taps the roof and the driver pulls away. He stands outside with Bing, long after the taillights have faded.

"What is it about the Bennet Sisters?" Bing murmurs, hands tucked in his pockets. The words of a man who is just as bewitched as Darcy, helpless against their innocent allure. Eventually they return inside, Darcy offering paltry excuses regarding the state of his dress attire, while Bing quietly acknowledges Lizzie's quick departure.

Correction. Lizzie's leaving the land of Pemberley Digital in 90 minutes. Three hours prior she was burning with the fear and excitement of graduation, woefully ignoring her feelings (not feelings) for Darcy, and secretly hoping she would land a job working in the very department she was interning. A few hours from now, she'll be home, and all that matters right now is her family. Her sisters. Lydia.

As the plane lifts off, she watches the city lights shimmer in the darkness, slowly fading away. She whispers goodnight and shuts the blind, not wanting to watch as the blackness takes over. Ignoring the pang in her chest, she folds into herself, the words Life is not for the faint of heart forming an endless litany in her mind. Indeed it is not.

Finis

.::.::.::.::.

A/N: In answer to the prompt: SOMEONE PUT THAT BOY IN A WHITE SHIRT AND THROW HIM IN A POOL.

Wow ended that rather bleakly. Whatever. We all know how it ends. Thanks for reading.