A/N Thank you to my wonderful beta, MiGT28!

***Apologies, loyal readers, my lovely home had been invaded by Pelosi's Botox-line buddy, her pretentious accent. and her non-boyfriend. They've deigned to come to the colonies to stage an A&E style intervention (however, having forgotten the camera crews, most time is spent vamping in the mirrors of my home, prompting my delightfully precocious daughter to point out that vampires aren't supposed to have reflections. Yes, I've decided to buy her a pony) for my soon-to-be-brother-in-law.

Regardless of the impending havoc, I am giddy to announce that my dear sister Jane and her boyfriend have finally publicized the engagement I've teased them about since Jane introduced him to me as her boyfriend nine years ago. On my daughter's birthday. In the hospital. The Post had a beautiful announcement with pictures if you're interested, or are bored and mildly depressed. They look almost like Barbie and a Jane Austen version of Ken, But I NEVER said that. *wink*

And back to why you put up with me... ***

Beth paused in her interpretation of a list of the most and least economically stressed counties in the country to help herself to more of her Hershey's and peanut butter concoction. Returning to her editorializing, she was interrupted by the dulcet tones of Caroline Bingley (by dulcet, she meant screeching) saying, "Is this really how you spend your days, Miss Eliza?" Trapped with both Caroline and Darcy, Beth was seeking internet solace. They had arrived Monday afternoon. It was Wednesday and Beth still had yet to hear more than three words in a row from Darcy. (She'd asked after his plans for Tuesday at Monday's dinner only to be, "Hmm"-ed at, before Caroline went on for twenty minutes about catching up with 'dear Charlie.' 'Dear Charlie' had appeared frightened. She'd said, "Slept well?" when she saw him on Tuesday morning only to be grunted at. And when she'd noticed him looking at her walls of bookcases, all filled, she'd asked if he had been interested in anything. He'd deigned to say, "Maybe." Fortunately, he appeared experienced in dealing with nine-year-olds though, without being creepy, Lily would interrupt him on the phone or computer without getting son much as a dirty look and frequently received a grin. It was almost as if he liked kids. (Gasp.) Caroline, as if to balance out Darcy's monosyllabic, would not (possibly could not) shut up.

As it was noon on a Wednesday, Lily was in school, occupied by a solar system project and preparing for the accompanying Smithsonian trip later in the week, Jane was at work, and Charlie appearing on an afternoon cable news broadcast, thereby unable to cart Caroline and Darcy in tow as he had on Tuesday. Beth had tried to encourage Caroline and Darcy to do the touristy things while telling them all the non-touristy restaurants, not that Caroline ate. Unfortunately, Darcy wanted to read a book and Caroline was attached to his hip. Beth paused a moment to enjoy the mental picture. They were in matching outfits.

Beth resumed typing, either not responding because of the spoon in her mouth or because her name was Beth and not Eliza. Caroline continued trying to draw her attention, her zoo-like squealing punctuated by Darcy's frustrated sighs as he tried to keep his focus on James Rollins' Map of Bones (OMG, such a great book). Caving into frustration, Darcy spoke his first sentence to Beth since his arrival (the string of approving grunts he'd provided regarding her paperback library notwithstanding), "Ms. Bennet, will you please explain to Caroline the act of non-celebrity blogging? She's having trouble with the concept." Gesturing to the book, he continued, "Is it always this brain-melting? He's like Dan Brown with less religion and more physics."

She pulled the spoon from her mouth, unwillingly. "My days are frequently like this, when I'm awake this early. Noon isn't always my best hour. But I'm always up to pick Lily up from school. And yes, Darcy, they're all like that. If that's too "brain-melting" I'm sure you'll be equally impressed by the variety in Lily's library."

"Thank you, Bennet," Darcy responded dryly, to Caroline's huff.

"So, when is your daughter going to boarding school? Children always learn their best manners at boarding school, maybe then she'd learn not to refer to me as a Volturi," Caroline spewed.

"Lily's nine, I'm not considering boarding school until she hits puberty. And I deeply apologize for my far-more-literate-than-you daughter making literary allusions at your expense, Caroline. I truly am sorry. I so want us to get along," she reached a hand out to Caroline, "After all, we'll be family soon."

The response to Beth's allegedly heartfelt speech was amazing and unexpected. While Caroline's mouth dropped open and Beth was fairly sure she'd inhaled not only Congress, but ALL the pages of the financial reform bill. Yet, Darcy was the one hacking up a lung.

"Mom, when is Caroline leaving?"

Not soon enough. "In a few days, love. Do you not like her?"

"I love Uncle Charlie, Mom, but Caroline is whacked. I feel sorry for Will," Lily kicked a stone off the sidewalk, as they walked home together Wednesday afternoon.

"My question is, why haven't we met him before if he and Uncle Charlie are so close?" Beth said, guiding Lily into a coffee shop, "Chocolate milk, kiddo?"

"Always," Lily scuffed her red Converse, pointing to a brownie before Beth could ask, "I talked to Will on the phone once when Uncle Charlie was in London on story night. He read me a couple of chapters in 'Beezus and Ramona'. Do you not like him because he looks at you funny?"

"What? Heck of a non-sequitur, kiddo," Beth followed Lily to a tall table. Lily had taken a stand against regular chairs out of the house because she had them in the house. Beth had could not fault the logic. "Seriously, he read to you? I was feeling special because he said a full sentence to me today. And what do you mean he looks at me funny?"

Lily grinned, and Beth internally winced at the inevitable braces. "Like he likes you," Lily's grin changed, "Or you have three heads."

"Smart aleck," Beth ruffled her hair before leaning back as their food arrived, "How would his expression be different if I only had two heads?"

Lily giggled around a mouthful of brownie, and stuttered out, "Completely different-" she paused to swallow, off a dirty look from Beth, "His mouth wouldn't be open quite as much."

"Insightful."

Lily nodded sagely. "I know. So, when's Caroline leaving?"

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