READ THIS PLEASE.
Okay, so lots of people seem to be a bit confused about this. Sorry, that's my fault; I wasn't clear. I'll try to clean things up here.
This story is still going to be about how "First comes love, second comes marriage, third comes a baby in the baby carriage," gets screwed up with Lizzie and Darcy. And yes, as I said in my (now deleted) AN, I am drawing inspiration from the movie Life As We Know It. Other than that, expect everything to be different from the first draft of this.
Thank you all for taking such an active interest in this story! Please feel free to PM me or review with any more questions :)
One Hour Earlier - 2008
Okay, so in his defense, Darcy had not signed up for this. He hadn't even wanted to go on a blind date, for Chrissake. He'd just wanted to go home, heat up whatever Mrs. Reynolds had left him, and watch a bad sitcom, like always. But no, apparently Charlie thought his life needed to be injected with femininity, or some stupid shit like that, anyway. So as Darcy had been leaving work that night, Charlie had shown up in his car and insisted on driving him somewhere.
"Where are we going?" Darcy had asked, squinting suspiciously. "Hey, be careful, that's Italian leather. Dammit, Charles, what did I say about commandeering my cars?"
"Not to," Charlie responded glibly, sucking down more soda. "Just get in, Will, I promise you'll have fun."
"Have - no, I don't want to have fun, I want to get home."
Charlie had wrestled Darcy into the car eventually and sped off, humming like nothing was wrong and steadfastly ignoring his friend's glowers. All had been going well until Charlie's phone rang. He slipped on the Bluetooth headset and answered, smile widening (if that was possible). "Jane?" Darcy fought back a groan. He definitely did not want to be subjected to the mindless chatter of a couple in love.
"What do you mean, she's going to be late? So... oh. She... hmm. He's not going to like that much. No, I know, it's just - yeah. Okay. I love you. No, I'll be home soon. Okay, bye."
"Please tell me that phone call had nothing to do with me," Darcy intoned, resting an elbow against the windowsill and pressing his palm against his forehead.
"It did," Charlie replied, voice still as cheery as ever. "It turns out that your date is going to be late. She says to go ahead and stay at home instead of waiting in front of her workplace; she'll come to you. Jane apologizes; apparently she's very disorganized. She's lovely though, I've met her once or twice. I think you'll like her. She's very funny."
"You're rambling," Darcy said automatically, knowing his friend had a tendency to do that when nervous. Then his wits caught up with Charlie's words and he whipped around, eyes practically spitting fire. "My date?"
(x)
Okay, so in her defense, Lizzie had not signed up for this. She just wanted to curl up on her couch with a mug of hot chocolate, a stack of papers, and her favorite red pen, with maybe some Billy Joel playing in the background. But no, apparently, Jane wanted to use her as a guinea pig in some sick social experiment. She should have called 911 as soon as the scheme left Jane's pretty pink lips. Hell, she should've run for the hills. But no, she'd let Jane talk her way into her heart and get her way, like an amateur.
An amateur, Elizabeth! Lizzie seethed internally, writing down Principal Beckert's last comment with a little more force than necessary. It was nearing the ten-minutes-before-date mark and whereas she didn't feel particularly inclined to make a good impression, she had some basic courtesy. She stealthily took out her phone and sent a warning text to Jane: Gonna be way late. Tell the guy I'll meet him at his place for a casual sort of night, please? We won't get along, anyway.
All right, so she had courtesy for everyone but the current speaker. But Beckert was as blind as he was boring, and definitely didn't notice her quick text. Besides, half the other faculty members were either dozing or using their phones too, from the looks of it. Her phone buzzed in her lap after a few minutes and she checked it from her purse, feeling very much like the high schoolers she taught.
From Jane Bennet: You don't know that. And okay, I called Charlie. But Darcy won't take kindly to the whole casual thing, I think.
From Lizzie Bennet: This Darcy guy sounds kind of, uh, strict. But okay... although I can't promise good behavior if I get out of his meeting half-dead.
From Jane Bennet: Fair enough. I think Charlie made a reservation for you two though.
Lizzie: You're joking. I'm going to be running really late.
Jane: Then you'll miss the reservation, order Chinese food instead, and get your casual night by happenstance. Everyone wins, right?
Lizzie: Remind me why I agreed to this?
Jane: Because you and Darcy both need a better social life. And because Charlie wants Darcy to, quote, stop wandering around like a puppy without an owner, and needed someone to fix him up with who wasn't a hooker or golddigger, endquote. And because you owe me for ruining those curtains.
Lizzie: ... Okay, I highly disagree with the first point. My social life is thriv -
"Ms. Bennet? Something you'd like to share?" Beckert's reedy voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up, a traitorous warmth spreading through her cheeks.
"None at all, sir. Please, continue what you were saying about the, um, waxing of the gym floors."
Lizzie sighed as the principal turned away. It was going to be a long night.
(x)
2012
The snuffling cries of Nathaniel Bingley echoed through the household as Lizzie took the cake out from the refrigerator. Jane immediately dropped the tub of ice cream onto the counter top and rushed to the adjoining room, picking up her crying child and cooing at him as she brought him back to his aunt. "Oh, has my boy woken up from his nap?" she murmured, patting Nathaniel's back as he hiccuped through his last few sobs. "Don't worry, we're about to celebrate your birthday soon."
"Except you'll get milk and we'll get the good stuff," Lizzie said, a wicked expression blooming across her face as she tapped her nephew's nose with a finger. "I can't believe he's already a year old, it feels like you and Charlie got married only yesterday," she added to her sister, taking the cake out of its box.
"Three years really do fly," Jane responded, voice blissful. "It's been perfect."
"Yeah yeah, you with your happy relationships," Lizzie said, only half-teasing.
"I'm sure you'll find someone who makes you unbelievably happy, Lizzie," Jane said, a sympathetic tilt appearing at the corner of her mouth.
Lizzie shook her head resolutely. "Nope. The only man I need in my life is this one right here," she said, reaching over to pluck Nathaniel from his mother's arms. "Right, Nathan? You're so adorable." The baby gurgled and showed Lizzie a toothless grin, reaching out to tug at her hair and laughing as she winced. Jane pursed her lips but refrained from comment, instead opening a cabinet in search of plates. The front door opened and two sets of feet tramped into the foyer, deeper voices echoing around the spacious house.
"I'm telling you, she's insane. Insane." Lizzie scowled as Darcy's displeased voice came closer. "I don't think I can handle another moment in her company."
"She can't be that bad," Charlie said, voice dubious. "She is your godmother."
"No, she's an evil bitter harpy that absolutely no one can stand." The two men rounded the corner and entered the kitchen; Charlie dropped a kiss on the corner of Jane's mouth while Lizzie shot Darcy a dirty look by force of sheer habit. He raised an eyebrow at her before moving over to take a chip from a bowl on the counter. Lizzie smacked his hand away. "Why can't I have one?"
"Because it's for the party, and I'm moving it to the dining room. Speaking of which, help me carry everything."
"It's one chip, I don't understand why you think Armageddon would break out if - "
"I never said anything about the end of the world, it's just better if you wait for a few minutes before you start eating so everyone can eat together."
"That's stupid; I've been setting up the tables outside and I'm starving."
"You're going to have to wait."
"Elizabeth. It's one chip."
"If you really are starving, you'll take more. And don't call me that."
"I won't. And it's your name."
The front door opened and shut, and the loud voice of Richard Fitzwilliam filled the foyer. "I walk into the house and the first thing I hear is bickering. How typical." His grinning face soon accompanied his voice and he went immediately to Nathaniel, tossing the wrapped gift in his hands to the counter and taking the baby out of Jane's hands. "Why hello there, love. How are you today?" The British lilt to his voice made the words all the more charming and Nathaniel gurgled, reaching out to grab at Richard's nose. "Frisky, aren't you?"
Richard had grown up and lived in England until after college. He then moved out to the United States to take joint control over the American branch of Darcy Corporations along with Darcy himself. The two men were cousins on Darcy's mother's side, and got along surprisingly well for how different their personalities were. Richard and Lizzie had bonded almost instantly over a mutual love of making fun of Darcy, but their relationship had quickly turned into a deeper friendship than simply Darcy-ridiculing (although that remained their favorite pastime).
There was a general murmur of greeting from the others and Richard turned to face Lizzie and Darcy, the grin turning into a mock solemn expression. "What're you two fighting about now?"
"She won't let me eat," Darcy replied, giving up on his quest and sitting down at a bar stool. Lizzie stuck out her tongue at him and started ferrying plates to the other room. "Really mature," he added in response.
"Have you two ever gotten along?" Charlie asked, managing to steal a stick of celery.
Darcy thought for a moment. "Once we both wanted pancakes instead of waffles."
"Oh."
"I can't believe he's turning one," Richard said, handing Nathaniel back to Jane. "It's strange, thinking about it. And then Lizzie-bear here doesn't even have a husband, despite my many proposals." He heaved a sigh.
"We'd accidentally kill each other and burn the house down to boot," she called from the other room. He smirked.
"This is very true. Besides, who wants to get married? Ick. Disgusting. Bad." He made a face at Nathaniel, who shrieked in appreciation.
"Okay, don't go teaching my son your loose morals, now," Jane laughed, balancing said son on her hip as she glanced at the clock. "It's almost two o'clock, Charlie, the guests will be arriving soon."
"Guests? You mean we're not enough for you?" Richard asked, now squishing Nathaniel's cheeks.
"It's just the neighbors, don't panic," Charlie said, watching bemusedly. "What... are you doing?"
"He has the biggest cheeks ever. They're so fun to stretch. Look, look how funny he looks."
"How old are you?" Darcy asked, looking genuinely worried. "Nathaniel is more mature than you sometimes, really."
"You're so damn concerned about maturity; loosen up!" Lizzie said, pointing a finger in his direction. "You're annoying."
"I'm concerned about maturity, Elizabeth, because I'm the only one who is mature."
"Right, as opposed to the married couple with a child," Charlie snorted. "She's right, Will. Loosen up a little today at the party, all right? Talk to a few girls."
Richard actually laughed at that. "Will, talking to girls? I don't think that's even possible."
The doorbell rang, cutting off Darcy's very pained attempt to argue that statement. Soon the house was filling with people and food and the cries of various children as the inhabitants of Netherfield Street gathered to celebrate Nathaniel's birthday. Lizzie flitted around making sure people were getting to the refreshments and that the children weren't fighting and that the party was going smoothly enough for Jane and Charlie to relax. Will stood in the corner and tried not to make the babies cry.
"Darcy. Seriously. Have some fun," Richard said under the chorus of voices singing happy birthday to Nathaniel as Lizzie brought the cake out.
"Please tell me that's wine," Darcy said instead, eyeing the cup in Richard's hand.
"Nah. Grape juice."
"God." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can I pretend there's an emergency at the office?"
"No, you socially awkward tit. Go talk to Lizzie if you have to, just try to look happy."
"I am happy. I like being with Nathaniel, I really do. It's just - there are too many people here," Darcy hissed, narrowly avoiding a frantic mother in search of napkins. "I wish it was just us and Charlie and Jane and Nathaniel. Elizabeth if necessary."
"Oh please. You and I both know you could very easily fancy Lizzie."
"Fa - is that English slang for 'have a crush on'?"
"You want her to have your children."
"It went to hell four years ago, in case you don't recall."
"Second chances are fantastic for the health, I've heard."
"I'm not interested," Darcy said firmly. "She and I are from... totally different circles. I dislike her personality as much as she dislikes mine, and I'm content to leave it that way. It's not like we're going to be forced to get along."
"It'd just be a lot nicer for everyone if you weren't at each other's throats all the time," Richard reasoned.
"It'd also be a lot nicer for everyone if world hunger didn't exist."
(x)
Lizzie stretched her legs out on the sofa and breathed a deep sigh, muscles falling limp after a long day at Jane's house. Darcy had been insufferable, as always, but she'd learned to get by it as best as she could a long time ago. More exhausting, however, had been the constant barrage of questions from nosy neighbors. It was like her mother had replicated herself and stationed the clones in all of the neighborhood houses, ready to spy on her daughters despite living half a dozen states away. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been asked if she was single, nor could she forget the judgmental look on all their faces when she replied in the negative. But so what if she was single? She wanted to focus on her career, on making enough money to support herself before even thinking about adding another person to her life. The heavy pour of rain that had started early that afternoon drummed against her windows, providing a depressing background to her thoughts.
She sat up and pulled the stack of essays on her coffee table closer to her in irritation, aiming to lose herself in her work. Besides, she had over seventy essays to grade in less than a week, and it wasn't particularly easy to get through them even on the best of days.
She had just settled into a comfortable rhythm when her phone rang, startling in the quiet of the small apartment. Cursing at the lurid red streak her pen had made across the sheet of paper in her jerk of surprise, she scrambled for the device. An unknown number flashed across her screen. Frowning, she picked up with a questioning, "Hello?"
The furrow in her brow only deepened as the man on the other end spoke. "I'm looking for an Elizabeth Bennet?"
"Yes, this is she."
"I'm afraid we'll need you to come to the Meryton police station immediately. There's been... there's been an accident."
"If this is about George Wickham, I'd like to state once again that he is my student and that I don't have any familial relations to him, despite what he may say."
"No, Miss Bennet." She could sense the officer's hesitation over the line. "The matter concerns Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley. You're listed as an emergency contact in case of - "
"Jane and Charlie?" Lizzie felt her breath constrict. "What happened? Where are they?"
"Miss Bennet, you need to come down to the - "
"I'll be there in five minutes, but - but sir, please tell me what happened."
"Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley were in an automobile accident. Their car skidded on the highway and the rain... They crashed into the railing." There was a horrible pause. "Their child, Nathaniel, was not in the car at this time. He is now in the care of Child Protective Services. They handle cases like this."
"What cases?"
The officer was silent for another moment. Then, heavily: "Orphaned children."
When Darcy arrived at the police station twenty minutes later, he found her sitting on the front steps of the building. Without a word, he drew her up into a tight embrace, in which she finally started to cry.
