(When he does think he's over her, that's when she comes back into his life.)
He loves his sister; no one could deny that fact.
It's just that, sometimes, he makes a mental note to kill her for the things she does: like shoving him in a room, completely unprepared, in front of the girl whom he was in love with, who was also unprepared to see him.
His hair's slightly messy, the shadow of growing stubble on his jaw prominent, and he looks like he hadn't slept in a while, but the adrenaline kicks in and he's fully awake as he tries his best to show her he's not that same asshole he was a few months back.
"Darcy," she musters, shock coating her words.
"Lizzie," his voice softens, like it usually does when it comes to her.
"I thought you were in LA!"
"Oh, no, I'm, uh … not."
The shock gets wiped off her face for one moment as she exhales a sarcastic "Clearly," and he smiles for a second, nothing more before being forcibly sat down by Gigi.
"Your sister is crazy."
"Yes…"
"I didn't mean to surprise you …" they both say and trail off, letting the other talk and interrupting each other again.
From what he can read from her, he thinks she no longer hates him—she compliments his company, she seems to be friends with Gigi, and she politely declines his offer to give her a ride—but then again, he's never been so good at reading her anyway.
"I'll see you around," he says, half-expecting her to object but instead he adds, "If there's anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable …"
She reaches out to touch him on his arm, thanks him; then turns off the camera, says a quick "Bye," and walks out of the room quickly for her dinner. Meanwhile, he leaves the room and goes to his office, throwing himself into his work, trying not to think about how someone, something, had possibly just given him a second chance.
…
When he and Gigi go out to dinner that day, their orders come and they eat in silence, not bringing up what happened, though he can already see Gigi dying for details.
"C'mon, William, how'd it go?" She insists.
"Better," he says, referring to the last time he was in a different room with that same girl, "Better than that."
"Are you mad at me and Fitz for setting you and Lizzie up?"
He hadn't known Gigi even knew about the videos or realized Fitz was in on this as well—he really needed to check his twitter more often—but he's okay with it. "No."
She smiles, taking a piece of his steak, and nibbles on it while he says, "Just no more convoluted plans, okay? Neither Lizzie nor I are comfortable with it."
He realizes he possibly made a Lizzie-ism, which Gigi notices as well but has the good sense not to bring up. "No promises," she replies cheekily.
He gives her his best reprimanding look while they continue to eat their food in a comfortable silence until Gigi breaks it once more.
"I really like her, you know?" She says, out of the blue. "I know you just told me her name, and I watched her videos knowing she hated you, and I went in there, fully thinking I would hate her and …"
"You didn't," he replies, thinking back to when he watched the videos himself.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to." Gigi smiles, "She's funny, she's kind …"
"She doesn't look at me differently," Her voice is quieter now, "She doesn't look at me like I was stupid for ever falling for him."
He focuses on eating his steak, because the only other thing he could do would be to think about her.
"She's perfect for you, Will."
Which he smiles at because he's glad Gigi thinks so, but he also thinks that now, if he isn't, he should at least try to be perfect for her too.
It's an early morning for him, a couple of days after his awkward meeting with Lizzie, and he first bumps into her again in the break room.
"Good morning," he says, and she responds with a cheery "Morning," as well.
He's opening the cupboards, automatically finding the mug with his name on it and he prepares his coffee without looking at where his hands are going.
She notices that she's finally getting to see him where he's comfortable, but she hides it by trying to open cupboards, looking for their tea collection—she'd heard only good things about them—and trying to decide from the variety she's currently faced with.
He comes over for the sugar, adds a tiny bit to his otherwise black coffee, while she's about to choose the Vanilla Rooibos, her favorite.
"The Zen tea with a hint of lemon and honey is quite good," he pipes up from behind her, stirring his coffee, "If you're looking for something different."
He gives her a casual smile, leaving for his office, and he doesn't notice her roll her eyes. She's a little bit annoyed at this—she didn't ask for his opinion, and she'd always hated Zen tea for some reason—but she shakes her head and thinks of New Jane who encourages her to be nicer and try new things.
So she takes a tea bag and puts it in her mug of hot water, adding some lemon and honey, then takes a sip, fully expecting to hate it.
(But no matter how hard she tries, she just doesn't.)
He walks into the room, red bowtied and newsie-hatted. He feels silly, but the look on Lizzie's face of amused, teasing shock is enough to make him try to suppress a smile on his face.
"It was the closest I could find on short notice," he explains, and she hurries to put on her Plaid Shirt.
"WhydidntyoutellBingaboutmyvi deos?"
As if he didn't already know, Lizzie Bennet was nothing if not direct. But at least he had a chance to explain himself.
"I didn't think it was my place …"
And their little back and forth continues, bringing up plausible points about if Bing really felt strongly about Jane, he wouldn't give up so easily, to which she exasperatedly says, "Isn't finding happiness hard enough? Why is it your job or my job or anyone else's job to test the strength of their relationship?"
Yes, he answers in his mind, finding happiness was hard enough. But it's even harder if you couldn't keep it.
…
"Do you think Bing still cares about Jane?" she ventures timidly, looking at her shoulder then at his eyes.
He realizes how close their shoulders are, and that she wouldn't be the first to break eye contact. He's not sure if they're even talking about Bing and Jane anymore. But he takes off the cap, and it just seems a bit too real for her.
"I think … you should ask him." He replies softly, seeing that her eyes decided to be distinctly blue today rather than blue-green, though it might just be the lighting.
(But the lighting didn't affect the look of confusion on her face as she tried to compare the man she'd met last summer to the man in front of her.)
She takes off her Plaid Shirt, not daring to look at him in the eyes, thanking him for being helpful and dismissing him.
"Very well," he nods, then smoothly makes his way out of the room, his eyes still on hers the entire time.
He tries to think about work and not about the fact that Lizzie asked him, of all people, to costume theatre with her that he forgets to take the bowtie off for the rest of the day.
They pass each other in the hallways.
He knows that if it hadn't been for Gigi, their exchanges would have been even more awkward than last summer, but they are civil, if not friendly.
Their greetings eventually grow from looks to polite nods to giving a smile and saying hello.
It's enough to make his early mornings better and put a nice end to his day.
He crosses out that previous mental note to kill Gigi.
To say he was nervous was an understatement, though he'd never admit it.
He'd gotten dressed quickly, wearing his glasses as he'd forgotten to put in his contacts in his rush, while Gigi seemed completely at ease, enjoying William's discomposure a bit more than she'd let on.
They were in the car, driving over to Lizzie's place when he'd reminded her.
"Remember, Gigi—"
"I know, William, no convoluted plans."
"Good," he replies, his eyes on the road, wanting to thank his sister for inviting Lizzie out, for liking her, but choosing to stay quiet.
"You're welcome, Will." She says with a knowing smile, "Now, just loosen up and have fun."
…
They head over to a nearby café to get some breakfast quickly, before setting out to start their day. He notices that Gigi is keeping her no-convoluted-plans promise, but still manages to get Lizzie in the front seat because "Coach Annesley wants me to stretch my legs out for tomorrow's tennis practice" and tweets out pictures for the Internet.
He's mainly their driver—going from the Wharf to the hills to Alcatraz and Fort Mason—before Gigi shoots him a look that tells him to talk a bit more to Lizzie.
When Gigi goes to get them some water, he gives Lizzie a soft smile. "So, how are you enjoying the city?"
"San Francisco is amazing; I can see why you like it here."
"I think most tend to overlook it when they come to California—Los Angeles is much more of a popular spot." He remarks, "But San Francisco is one of those cities that is beautiful if you look closely."
"A few months ago, I would have thought you were just being a hipster," she chuckles, "But you're right."
They can hear the wind blowing softly as they stare at the distance.
"It's different," she sighs, looking out at the Golden Gate Bridge.
"What do you mean?"
"It's just, you see all these landmarks in movies, in postcards … but it's different. Actually being here, you know?" She looks at him. "Being here is so much more different than just seeing a picture."
"Is it a good different?" He asks hesitantly, "Is being here a good different?"
Her eyes don't leave him. "A really good different."
Gigi returns with their waters, takes a picture and they decide to move on to the next destination, walking side-by-side to the car, their hands close enough that they can feel the warmth of the other's.
…
Lizzie's not really sure where they are, but she thinks of Lydia at that moment.
Gigi and Darcy are having a little argument about the year their parents had taken them around San Francisco like tourists—she's amazed at the patience Darcy has for his sister, and how, after, they continue like nothing happened—and she gives them some space by throwing a penny in the nearby fountain, thinking about calling Lydia in that moment.
She feels his presence coming closer, and he's next to her. "Are you alright, Lizzie?"
"Yeah," she nods, not noticing that she automatically knew it was just him, "Just missing Lydia, oddly enough."
"It's not odd to miss your sister, no matter how frustrating they can be," he says, fondly looking at Gigi, who's checking her phone. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to imply anything about your sister, especially after what happened—"
"It's alright."
"I am sorry, Lizzie, for Lydia," and she looks at him confused, "I didn't know my comment would lead to that."
"It's not your fault, Darcy," she sighs, "It's mine."
They nod in understanding and move on from the subject, suddenly fascinated by a building far off in the distance.
Gigi takes a picture, and they both react. She looks at it, just smiles and says, "Candid looks good on you two."
They blush a bit, and continue. Their conversation the rest of the day doesn't encroach on dangerous territory, and she finds herself laughing and enjoying herself more than she already was a few hours ago.
…
Before they finish their day, Gigi insists on taking Lizzie for some coffee.
"Gigi, if Lizzie is tired, we can't force her—"
"Actually, I'd love to go."
His heart swells with a bit of hope that the day could go on a bit longer, and after ten minutes of driving with Lizzie and Gigi chatting and laughing with him (which he could get used to, he thinks), they arrive.
The two girls go order at the counter while he sits in a corner, finally checking his phone once in the entire day, and sees a notification from twitter—"Today I get to see the city with ggdarcy and wmdarcy. #excited", Lizzie tweeted.
He puts away his phone, smiling to himself at the tweet and hears the song change to familiar piano music playing on the speaker.
'You're in my arms, and all the world is calm
The music playing on, for only two...'
Lizzie chooses that moment to join him, and he wonders if she remembers this song.
"This song seems much more fitting in a café than a wedding." He says nonchalantly.
She smiles at him, looking down at her nails, remembering months ago, she had the most awkward dance ever to this song with the man she had just spent the entire day with.
So close, to reaching
That famous happy end, and
Almost, believing,
This one's not pretend…
"In all the months I've known you, I've never seen you wear your glasses once."
"They tend to get in the way," He replies, "I never liked wearing them when I was young."
"I like them. They suit you," she smiles and he smiles back at her.
Gigi waltzes in, timely as ever, with the three drinks in their holder. "Alright, hot chocolate for me, and two Zen teas with lemon and honey, as ordered," she chirps.
"But what about Li—"
"Oh, um, the other one's mine," Lizzie says, taking the other one and sipping it, "You're right, it is different. Good different."
He hears the words, meets her eyes, half-expecting Gigi to smirk at him, but she's just sipping her hot chocolate, checking her phone. He's glad that they have something that only they understand.
…
The drive back to Lizzie's house is quiet, but for once, it doesn't seem awkward between them.
He pulls up in the front, and they turn to see Gigi leaning against the door, fast asleep, when Lizzie pulls out her phone and takes a picture.
"She's taken so many pictures today, and she hasn't been in one." Lizzie smirks, and he chuckles. "Tell Gigi I said bye."
"I could wake her up—"
"Nah, let the little shutterbug sleep."
They keep eye contact, not really knowing what to do—if this was a movie, this would be the part where he would give her a kiss goodnight after their date; but this was neither a movie, nor a date—and she breaks it by saying, "I had fun today."
"So did I," he nods.
"Thanks for the ride, goodnight." She leaves with a smile, lingering at the doorway until she sees him drive off.
The drive to the other side of town allows him time to think, but he doesn't let himself finish most of these thoughts because they all involve Lizzie and he doesn't want to make himself hope too much again.
When they arrive, he wakes up Gigi, who groggily asks where they are and makes her way upstairs for a shower. He checks his phone for the first time that day—time, especially today, was precious—and sees another tweet from Lizzie, addressed specifically to him.
TheLizzieBennet: wmdarcy Thank you and Gigi for an awesome day.
He thinks he should be thanking her, but he's about to tweet back "My pleasure" before realizing he should change that.
wmdarcy: TheLizzieBennet Our pleasure.
He showers, says goodnight to Gigi, and lies in bed, slowly falling asleep while the feeling of hope wakes up inside of him.