Last Impressions

Mkay. I admit it. I hadn't planned on updating soon. I have another 4 stories started, 2 not yet posted. I was taking a break form this, simple cause I did not expect it to be very popular. Boy, was I wrong. Seriously, try my other fanficts, Artemis Fowl, CSI , and Harry Potter.

DISCLAIMER: P&P is not mine. But I have no clue who really owns it.

This is being narrated by the older, 20-something Anne.

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When Fitzwilliam first came to my playroom I was seven. He was 9, a big boy, very shy. He came it trailing behind his mother, who was trailing behind mine. My aunt was much like him, big brown-gray eyes, pale sculpted face, slender, where as my own mother was very robust.

"Anne," My mother said briskly. "This is your cousin, Fitzwilliam and your Aunt Darcy. You shall play with Fitzwilliam while your Aunt and I take tea. Be good. Do not forget to be polite, he is our guest."

His mother patted his shoulder and left him standing only a few feet from the door, eyes wide, biting his lip. He was very handsome, even at such a young age. His dark brown hair was combed back and he wore expense, stiff, uncomfortable clothes. I didn't think he'd be very fun to play with; he looked too boring just standing there staring.

"Uh, hello cousin." I paused, hoping he wouldn't reply. Such a dull character.

"Hello." He was very quiet, saying the word formally.

"So…" What could I offer to do with this shy boy? Stare at a wall for and hour? "Do you want to play? I have puppet set, some dolls, book…"

The disgusted look on his face was answer enough. "Can we go outside? "

"Uh, I don't believe so. Mother never lets me go out, she says I'll get ill. " I didn't see anything wrong with this answer, but Fitzwilliam looked shocked. I might not be able to do such fun things as playing out of doors, but he need not be so rude about it.

"You can't go outside? Not ever? What about riding? Do you not ride?"

"No, I've never been on a horse. They're not safe. I stay indoors and read."

Darcy shook his head. "But what do you do in here? Sit around and sew all day?"

"Well, no. I play with my dolls, and read and I-"

"That's not fun. What about ball? Do you play toss?"

"Ah… no. Never. How do you play?"

Darcy produced a round red object from his pocket and held it up. "You throw it." He explained, "If someone catches it they throw it back. But I only play this when it rain and Mother won't let me out."

He demonstrated by tossing it up into the air and grabbing it as it fell back down. "You try." And he threw it to me. I held my hand out. I fumbled it a bit and dropped it. I scooped it up blushing and threw it back. Due to my misaim it fell to the floor halfway to where Darcy stood. He gave a smile and we continued.

After nearly 20 minutes of "Toss" Darcy became bored.

"What else can we play?"

"I don't know… wait, do you like soldiers?" He looked shocked, surprised I, a girl, would have the boy's toy. "Father gave me some. But we'll have to be quiet; Mother doesn't know."

I ran to my wardrobe, reaching up to the top shelf on my toes. Finally I came back with a wooden box. I slid the lid off and showed him the red felt-jacketed wooden dolls. "Let's build a fort!"

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When the my nurse found us, the pillows from the armchairs were built into forts and my soldiers were lined up nice and proper ready to shoot Darcy's own men. We were doubled over laughing for Darcy had just said something very humorous.What I cannot recall, but it was very funny to a pair of young children. She scolded us, then told Darcy he mother wanted him and me that I should be dressing for dinner.

We made faces at each other when the adults weren't looking, did clicking sounds with our silverware to irritate our parents, and left early claiming weariness only to rush up to the stairs ready to slide down the banisters but found servants polishing them.

The next week while Darcy was here we managed to convince Mother to let me out of doors. I was careful too keep clean, so I might be able to go out again.

"On my next visit I'll let her get you on a horse." He promised.

We parted as friends, looking forward to the next visit.

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Every few months from then on our mothers got together for a gossip about all their fellow rich and nobles, so Darcy and I had occasional play dates. We both, I believe, looked forward to such events, often annoying my nurses to no end.

"Mama," I would ask persistently. " When is Aunty Darcy coming over? I do ever so want to see her and Fitzwilliam. Are they soon coming?"

"Quiet, Anne. Whining as such makes you unappealing company. If you continue in this manner I shall have your nurse take you back to the crèche."

"I'm sorry Mama. But do you know when?"

"I haven't set the date yet. Now go play."

"Yes, Mama." I said humbly. The look of satisfaction in her eyes did not make sense to me.

"Give your Mama a kiss before you take your leave…ah, that's a good girl. "

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Darcy did get me on a horse, though in secret for Mama refused his request. We rode early in the dawn, while she had breakfast. I was taught much during his three week stay how to gallop, trot, saddle, et cetera. It was the most fun I had in my young life. By that time I was 13. Fitzwilliam had brought his own horse, along with my other cousin Fitzwilliam. Darcy then became Darcy. We had endless days of joy. I deeply wished it could go on forever…

"No matter what she says you're not that weak." He said grinning one day while unsaddled the pony I was now on. His own stallion was too tall for myself.

I playfully smacked him. " I didn't mean it like that!" He insisted. "You can do this! You just need to be a bit more careful."

"Well, Mousier Darcy you can be the one to waltz in and say to he 'Aunty, I've been teaching Anne how to ride large, hoofed beast against you wishes. May she continue doing so? Oh, and can you get her a horse?'"

He laughed, and my heart sang. I loved making him laugh. He was my best friend.

When I asked, "How is Georgiana doing? I haven't seen her since the christening, has she grown much? Can she walk yet?" He sobered quickly.

Looking down he kicked a stone. A frown pulled at his lips. I regretted my question. Little Georgiana was less than a year only, a fair pretty baby, 14 years Darcy's junior. My Aunt adored her but hadn't brought the baby with her on this visit. She would be departing earlier than the boys to see her darling new daughter.

It was long a suspension of mine that Darcy disliked his younger sibling. He rarely spoke of her, and when he did it was short and undetailed.

"Fine." He said shortly, than strode off.

Already Lady Anne Darcy was looking a bit sickly.