She had left her dank room in Meard St, which she had decided to nickname Murk St, to explore the dirty streets of Soho. She thought it would probably have been a good idea to lay low for a while, but thoughts of Charlotte prevented this. She had spent most of the week that she had been instructed by her parents to spend with her aunt and uncle doing surveillance in various areas of London.

She had decided to focus on Soho because in the one letter Lizzy had received from Charlotte before her disappearance, she had spoke about the wonders of Carnaby street and her plans to spend most of her free time in London enjoying them. She had given the letter to Charlottes father to give to the police, but it had been returned only a week later.

God, the DCI seemed like an absolute bastard.

Nerves at breaking into a police station had weighed on her mind since she had decided that she really should try to see the case file relating the Charlotte. On her first day in London she had walked outside of Scotland Yard, looking at the security. On her second day she had borrowed a female officer's uniform from the back of an unlocked car.

However, her uncle – who worked for the Mayor of London – had spoken about a large conference taking place at the Yard on the 18th of September that seemed like the perfect way in. Large amounts of people wandering about who the police didn't know but to a certain extent had to accept as being allowed to be there. Through her uncle she knew quite a bit about the Mayors office too, having encouraged conversing about it as much as possible once this ridiculous plan had formed in her head.

This was why, waiting for her on her bed back on Murk St, was a navy work suit. Mary Quant would have sighed if she had seen the length, but not the fit. Lizzy had borrowed it from her sister Jane and the skirt in particular therefore fit her a little snuggly – perhaps bordering on the inappropriate – but it was the swinging sixties after all.

Perhaps the swingingness of it all had yet to reach Scotland Yard or the Mayors office though.

After dodging through a few bars and bathed in a variety of lights that to any respectable civilian would spell trouble ,she decided to head home and get an early night before her adventure's tomorrow.

Adventures that came too quickly, and before she knew it, she was standing around the corner of Scotland Yard, waiting for a large group to enter the police station.

Large enough that she could just slip in with them unnoticed.

There didn't seem to be too much security considering it was Scotland Yard, but then – she supposed there weren't many people trying to break into the police station, it normally went the other way around.

She tried to think about the worst that could happen – thinking about her own ability to blag her way out of tricky situations made her both smile and feel more confident about what she was about to do.

That being said, it was through sheer luck that she managed to get in through the front doors without notice. A large group of office workers were lining up to get in at the same time as a very angry pair of prostitutes were dragged by two haggard officers. The officers in turn were followed by a few people in plain clothes that didn't seem to fit the description of policeman – so she guessed they must be witnesses.

The crowd welcomed a tall girl, with pale skin, dark brown hair and even darker eyes without question, despite her tight skirt. They were all funnelled through the entrance quickly, the officers obviously trying to clear the corridor before things could get any more hectic.

Soon she was walking briskly down a corridor, without having any clue where she was meant to be going. She just guessed if she walked like she knew where she was going, nobody would try and stop her.

It was working beautifully until a door opened and she was almost sent flying by a very tall, and very handsome man with three pips on his shoulder. He looked surprised and instinctively reached out to catch her, his arms wrapping around her waist pressing her flush against him.

They stared at each other a second longer than necessary, and upon recognising this he set her on her feet and stepped away.

'I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going.'

Except, she wasn't sorry – she had enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her far too much for that, and her smile said as much.

Seeing this his eyes hardened, and he was about to open his mouth to say something when a voice echoed down the corridor.

'Darcy! We are running late, I said we would meet them in the Peel Room.'

Now it was Lizzy's eyes turn to harden, although as he had turned to look at his friend, she did not think he noticed. Instead, she excused herself and continued moving down the corridor.

He did not stop her, and when she turned her head before turning the corner, she saw his retreating figure.

She waited five minutes before turning around and walking into his miraculously unlocked office. It was a relatively large room that was made a lot smaller by the sheer number of filling cabinets that filled it. It was made bearable by the large first floor window that filled the room with air and looked directly down onto the street below, the shutters fluttered in the gentle breeze that blew softly through them.

She descended on the filing cabinet with a silent vengeance that came from having four sisters and an insane mother. Finding a cabinet marked 'L' she fell to her knees, and opened the lowest shelf – flicking through flies until she came to an irritatingly thin one labelled 'Lucas, Charlotte'.

She pulled it out and quietly shut the drawer, but before she could give it a look the door opened again and shut loudly.

She stood up quickly looking at the intruder and moved instinctively back towards the window.

Darcy froze, staring at her in anger and surprise.

'What are you doing in here?'

He blocked the door, his eyes not leaving hers.

'Would you believe me if I said I was lost?'

He shook his head solemnly.

'Who are you?'

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to shake her head.

'I'm sorry, but my parents always taught me never to give my name to strange men.'

He didn't seem to find her very funny, and in order to illustrate this point took a step forward.

'I won't be spoken to like this in my own office.'

'What are you going to do to about it officer? Put me over your knee?'

Another step forward.

'That doesn't entirely seem like a bad idea.'

She let her eyes run up and down his body.

'You know if I didn't hate you so much, I would find that entirely too tempting.'

He remained impassive but his left eyebrow seemed to twitch slightly.

'If you aren't going to tell me who you are, then I'm going to arrest you – you've even saved me the trouble of bringing you in.'

'As much as I love handcuffs, I'm going to have to decline.'

They moved at the same time, like bullets out of matching starting pistols. He lunged forwards to grab her arm, but by the time he reached where she had been standing seconds before – Elizabeth Bennet was halfway out the window.

She hit the ground with the grace of someone who had spent their entire childhood climbing irresponsibly tall trees. The hem of her skirt tore a little, but she was too busy sprinting away from Darcy's window to notice – Charlotte's file clutched tightly to her chest.