So, if you haven't learned by now, I'm not patient enough to wait around for 20 people to R& THEN if they FEEL like it… R. So, I'm going to try a Mr. Darcy's point of view for the crash, and then so on and so forth. Thanks for those who reviewed, for without you, I would not continue! I would feel… yes, I would feel… sad. No hooray for sadness, but a for the fact I feel loved! YAY ME! Okee, I'mma stop now, before I break the small salsa dish, or spill the salsa… salsa's good, if you didn't know. A little spicy, but VERY good. I think this one might be slightly lackluster at first, but I'm trying to give a little bit with him, and let's face it, at first, he seemed terribly boring to me too…

"What had he told her that obviously troubled her so? It bothered me to not know." An Assembly Such as This. Chapter 10. (An actual published book in Darcy's POV)

"Say, Will, aren't you going to get a few new books at the local bookstore?" Charlie asked as Will got the keys to his mini coop. Will looked at him warily, hoping to god that his friend wasn't about to press Caroline onto him again. He was famous for doing that. Instead, it was a simple question to deliver the invitation for a party at Netherfield to Lizzie. She just so happened to work at the bookstore he was going to. The idea of seeing her heightened his impatience to go. Of course, he was trying to calm himself, knowing that if he lost his mind, he would certainly look at fool.

It had been almost a week since he had seen her. Jane was still at Netherfield, but was beginning to get better. He had no doubt that if Elizabeth had stayed; she would have gotten better faster. When her mother had arrived, it was atrocious. The way she talked with everyone -as if she truly knew what she was literally talking about- and the way she acted as if she could direct a college students actions, as if she lived under her mother's wing still, was sickening. The woman could not be contained, and it was evident in the way she acted, like a proud mother hen trying to strut like a lion.

His first thought was that this woman before him was the reason why Elizabeth and him could never be together. Indeed, he hardly knew why he liked her. She was proud, sarcastic, slightly brassy, and always talked to him archly, as if he was something to be amused with. A Darcy was certainly nothing to be amused with! But this woman was the smart dose he needed to let himself know that they could never be together. Not that he wanted to, of course.

He was glad that she had arrived. He could barely contain his emotions the night before as they talked (Charlie told him it was arguing. Darcy claimed debating) he had simply wanted to close the distance between them, and simply touch her skin, to see if it was as warm as her gaze was. He wanted to know if her curls were as soft as they looked in the light. But no! This thought process was banished the moment her mother walked into the room. Good thing to, for such a rag-tag family had no right to be lifted into the ranks of a Darcy's title.

Will Darcy had been given the business at the age of 18, right out of graduation. His father had passed away, and there was no one else to take it up, so Will proudly took charge. Knowing that he needed a right hand man to help with promoting their business, Will chose Charlie. He was an opposite of Will, and would bring in people to their business easier than the silent Darcy. After that, Darcy had taken some of his savings, and was able to go through all of college, while helping Charlie with the business. It certainly wasn't easy, and certainly took a long time for them to become the rich and famous attorney's at law that they were known for in London, but when they finally were able to promote it all over TV commercials, and billboards, bringing it up on radios, and settling cases as easy as wiping sand off a table, they were able to widen their business to other countries.

Of course, the one place where they struck big was America. With so many crimes, and so many cases needing settlement in the bigger cities, they opened up a few businesses in the larger, more dangerous, but well off cities. New York became one of the places that racked in the money the most, and then second was L.A.

Darcy was not as happy as other people who were poorer were. He thought he was happy, but when his sister had the mishap with Whickham, it made him realize that yes, he had the business, but was so worked up with it that he had almost lost his sister. He then brought in so many workers, that he almost had nothing to do but tell them which cases should go to whom.

Elizabeth was exotic to him. He was thinking this slowly as he walked through the rain with his umbrella, and to her work. She's the new toy on Christmas; he thought as the bell rung the signal a worker. That's the only reason why I like her. She is someone who brings something different to my life. That's the only reason why. She's low enough with money that I can only think of her until I get bored with her low class acts. She-

-was leaning on the counter, looking at him expectantly. There was an awkward silence as she waited for him to talk. He looked at her eyes, which were now shining a very bright, but slightly hazy from hangover green. She turned her head, and he watched in awe as they turned a darker brown, the light reflecting off them. Any bad thought of her banished as he saw the glow of her face. She was tired too, he could tell. It seemed like she was having a bad hangover, but was at least well enough to function.

"Yes, I'd like to-"He began, but saw something that made his blood boil.

"Lizzie! What are you doing with these stashed under the counter?" A sickeningly flirtatious voice asked seductively, raising an obscene book above his head. That face, that voice, those nasty, greedy eyes that surveyed everything for what they could bring him, it was him.

That nasty traitor, that sickeningly good looking smooth talking, greasy sneak! He was right there, and was looking at Will's Lizzie with that gleam that said he wanted her body, not her mind. Will clenched his teeth, and turned pale with anger as he tried not to land a punch right on him. He looked at Lizzie, hoping to see disgust, or at least surprise, but was sickened to see her looking right at him with… admiration.

What was he doing here? Why was he in America? Of course, he was a gold digger; why not start in the money crazy country of the USA? It was obvious he was trying to reap havoc here too, and with Will's precious Lizzie. His gaze narrowed, wondering if they had done anything yet.

No, they had not done anything. Whickham would not have stuck around. Also, Darcy had a suspicion that Lizzie was not that way. Unless she had skeletons in her closet, Will wad relieved to see that he had arrived just in the nick of time. He was there enough to at least put a stop to this.

But why did she look like she liked him? Sure, he was a lady's man, but he was sure that Lizzie was smart enough to see through him! So why did she seem to crumple under his false smoldering gaze? That though was enough to make Darcy angry enough to simply give the prat a withering glare, and storm out, forgetting entirely about the stupid invitation to the party. He barely registered the fact that Whickham had tried to give him a greeting, though a silly, disrespectful one that questioned Darcy's rank in society.

He sped down the streets, ignoring the silly rain that had quieted down slightly. He was too busy listening to the lyrics of the song that blared from his speakers by a smaller band, Eve 6.

When all is said and done and dead,

Does he love you?

The way that I do

You breathe in

Lightening tonight's fighting

I feel the hurt

So physical

Think twice before you touch my girl

Come around and let you feel the burn

Think twice before you touch my girl

Come around, come around, no more

She spreads her love

She burns me up

I can't let go

I can't get out

I've said enough

Enough by now

I can't let go

I can't get out.

But of course, in his mind, the song didn't lean towards him at all. It was not like he loved her or anything. That simply would not do. His standings in social life would falter, he could not take her to any event, for fear of her family ruining it all when they tagged along, and simply put, she did not deserve him. That was his minds thinking, for it was what he had been brought up to know.

This was maddening. Why did he care about her!? Whickham was nothing to him, but why did she look at a Darcy with contempt, but Whickham with adoration?! With a snarl, he pressed on the stupid gas pedal, and drove on, his eyes narrowing into slits. He was remembering things he did not want to know, and seeing things he did not want to remember. Why did Whickham always have to show up when things were almost about to go right? Every time that stupid slime ball came around, something went wrong. Will just hoped that it would not ruin his chances with Elizabeth. Not that he cared about her or anything. He just couldn't stand to think the a man of his status could lose to someone like Jack…

It was about twenty minute's before he realized that he had forgotten to give the letter to her. Guessing that she would get home soon enough, Will began to back track his way to her house. Charlie had vaguely mentioned where they lived, and Will was glad that he had remembered. Turning around with a slight shriek of the tires, Will sped back along the road, his speed climbing slowly.

The light turned red, and Will was glad for it, for if he hadn't stopped, something would have happened, that he was glad didn't. As he stopped, a car ripped right past him, and with shrieking tires, begun to swerve into the other lane, swinging dangerously back and forth. If he had not stopped, he would have been t-boned.

If it had happened, he would not have been able to help, and she might have died. As he hit the brakes, the car skidded. Not a moment too soon, it seemed, for as he stopped, two cars –one on the other, flipped over- skidded, and slid to a final stop in the middle of the intersection. Will raised an eyebrow, realizing that his music was too loud for a respectable man, and turned it down. The silence let him know that the reason why he had heard no metal grating on metal, was that he his music was indeed, too loud.

Going by reflex, Darcy calmly dialed the number for emergency in America, and waited. As he rapped out instructions into the phone, he looked through the gloom of the rain, and for some reason, recognized the car on the bottom. It was beat up of course, but it had certainly been noted by him before. A business man, perhaps?

Darcy wheeled his car expertly onto the side of the road, and turned it off. Getting out, and stepping into the down pouring rain, grumbling as he did so. It was then that he saw through the gloom, the face of the person in the bottom car. It was Elizabeth.

Panic gripped his chest as he realized that she was not moving. There was a gash on her forehead, and she was leaning on the back of the seat, eyes closed. With a curse, Darcy ran foreword, uttering oaths.

"Please, good god Elizabeth, don't be dead." He whispered, leaning down onto the ground, and wrenching open the door. He could see her eyelids fluttering as she tried to cover her ears. A lump formed at the back of his throat, and he had to clear it. Why did he care? Of course he cared, for god's sake, look at her! She was covered, completely covered, in blood. She didn't look full of life anymore. She looked cold, and dead.

What would he do if she died? How would he be able to move on? He couldn't, he definitely would refuse. The thought of her not being there to tease him ripped an invisible hole in his chest, and he almost groaned at the thought. He couldn't bear to see her like this anymore; he just couldn't bear to do it. It was unfathomable, and impossible. But she was so close to death, she had lost a lot of blood.

"Please, oh please, don't die, you can't. I love you, Elizabeth, please be alright." He whispered. It was then that he stopped, and checked himself. Why did he say that? But then he saw the distraught, limp form of her, and knew instantly why. Stooping down, he wrenched the seat belt from the catch, and picked her up. She moaned something, and tried to push him away.

"No, you'll be ok, please, just be ok." He plead softly, holding her close to him. She was bleeding on her head, her arms, her stomach, her legs; it seemed as if she was completely covered with her own blood. A moan tore from his lips as he saw her so weak, and hurt. His breath stole from him as he saw her go limp, her eyes not moving, her breath stilled.

"You're fine, ok? You're fine, I'm going to help you, please, just be ok, I don't know what I'm going to do if you're not." He said softly, before setting her out of harm's way. She settled comfortably on the concrete, and began breathing again. He then forced himself to part from her, and go to the other car. He glanced back and saw her scooting a little off of the ground, and leaned against the railing of the interstate. Darcy peered into the car on top to see a pale and upside-down Jack Whickham.

"I should have known! Damn." He cursed, surveying his nemesis. Of course, why would it be anyone else? Just the thought that he had hurt Elizabeth made him want to leave the idiot, and get Lizzie to the hospital himself. Restraining any impulse, he grabbed the groaning, and drunken Whickham, and pulled him out of the car, with difficulty. Glass from the car's windows was scattered around, and he tried to avoid them as he supported the bleeding and conscious Jack over to Lizzie.

"Idiot." He snapped, dumping the drunken man next to her. Jack retorted something as he drug himself up, and looked at her. Jack began making an excuse at once, and said something about brakes, when it caused Will to laugh at once.

"And the stench of alcohol on your breath had nothing to do with it." He replied evenly, resisting another impulse to kick the brute when he was down. Bending down, he began checking Elizabeth for major injuries, noting the oddly disjointed leg. It was broken. The rain was still pouring, and it was washing away most of the blood.

"The paramedics will be here soon, stay with me, please, you'll be alright." He crooned, panicking slightly when she didn't respond. He grabbed her lightly, and cuddled her frame against his, his dark, sapphire eyes glinting in sadness, and worry.

She clutched his arms, and whispered something that he didn't hear. All he could do was focus on breathing. He. Was. Holding. Elizabeth.

That was enough to sustain him. He was holding her, and she was alive. The panic subsided, and he rocked her gently, trying to comfort her, whispering words, begging her to hang on.

He could breathe without feeling ragged. She was clinging to him, her eyes still closed. He kissed her forehead, his breath tickling her skin. Her eyes opened to him, and he saw the dark blue that almost mirrored his own. She then snapped her eyes shut, in fear, or for some other reason he didn't know. He simply kept holding her, her life line his. She kept him breathing as her ragged breaths came in and out.

Jack Whickham watched them avidly, his injuries pretty bad, but not as bad as Lizzie's. He was awake and watched Darcy panic almost as he saw her. He had seen enough to know that the snooty, idiotic lawyer was madly in love with the silly girl. Sure, she was pretty, but he could see she didn't have much money, or worth taking right at once. She shied away from love, he could tell, but she seemed quite content with the kiss Jack had given. Just wait 'till she sees whose arms she's in. He though sickly, knowing for a fact that she had believed every word he had said when he told her his little story. When she realizes it was Darcy, she would say a few choice words, and then come back me, he thought smugly.

Flashing lights, and sirens let Will know that he was going to have to let her go. He didn't want to it, but knew what had to happen. If he wanted to get Jack in jail, he would have to testify, and also convince Elizabeth to sue.

The medics brought out the stretcher, and put her on it. She froze up, and tried to sit up, only to have a medic attempt to tell her to stay down.

"Stay with me." She whispered, her hand hanging off the stretcher, waiting for something. Will hesitantly gripped her hand, looking apologetically at the medic who seemed impatient.

"You'll need to give a report of the scene." A cop now addressed him, noting that he had to stay to give one. Darcy quickly rapped out what he had seen, and how he had assisted. The cop gave the feedback, and as Darcy signed his name at the bottom of the paper as a testimony, Lizzie grasped his hand tighter, making him slightly blush. The medic noted this, and asked if he would accompany her in the back.

"Isn't that against regulations?" He asked, walking up the walk with her hand in his as they wheeled her.

"It looks like she would go into shock if you let go." The medic replied, laughing. Smiling, Darcy managed to get into the back with them (having difficulty only using one hand, the other still clasped in Elizabeth's) and sat on a seat, watching the medic move fast, clearing away the blood off of her, and cleansing the head wounds.

"They always bleed the most, but not always the most serious." He explained quietly as they sped along the road, careful, but fast. Will merely nodded as every turn they took; Lizzie would grip his hand tighter. Just the thought of her gripping his hand tightly let him know she would be alright.

When they arrived at the hospital, he let go of her hand, much to her panic it seemed. She took deep, ragged breaths, and her eyes opened wildly, her arm reaching out to something that was not there. Darcy hated to see her like that. He wanted to help, but he had to give particulars to the nurses, and the front desk. Also, they had to take her into the ER, so he had to stay until she was stable.

"She's going into shock." Came the worried medic from behind her as they wheeled her into the double doors. Indeed, it seemed as though she was about to crack at any moment. Darcy followed quickly, but was stopped at the end of the hall by a doctor. He knew this would happen, but he couldn't bear to be away from her, not when she was in danger. The doctor was saying something, but he couldn't hear him. All he could see was her being lead away, her head turning quickly, desperately. Will walked as many steps as he dared, and stopped. As they turned her, taking her into a room, Lizzie finally got to look back.

Time froze as their eyes made contact. His breath stole from him at the desperation in her gaze, and her beauty though wet, and hurt, still pretty. He didn't know how he could have ever thought she was anything else, she was amazing. Her eyes flashed from one emotion to the next, surprise, pain, shock, blank, recollection, and for some reason, ended in anger. Why was she angry? That look as they wheeled her in would haunt him until he knew why she gazed at him so.

The doctor rapid fire drilled Darcy about everything, taking in all of the contact information that Will knew, until both were annoyed with the other for various reasons. Darcy hated the fact the doctor was mad that he was more worried about the patient, then the fact that he didn't know her home phone number. The doctor was annoyed that Darcy was vaguely paying attention. In the end, Darcy was seated in the waiting area, twiddling his thumbs, and waiting for her to be finished with. He didn't know how she would react when he saw her, but he definitely would see her, and talk.

Darcy knew that he had to squelch any thought of when he had told her he loved her. That had to be put to an end instantly. If it didn't, then she might think he actually liked her! That would not do, for as the doctor came out and told Will that he could see her in the morning, his panic faded, and logic returned. Though she was pretty, witty, intoxicating, exotic, and sarcastic, her rank would not do for his.

But what was there to say? Honestly, as Darcy racked his brain (he always had to be prepared) he couldn't find a single thing to talk about with her. He knew it would be stupid to walk into the room and say, "Hey, I saved your life! By the way, I didn't mean the part where I said I loved you." That certainly wouldn't bode well. Also, she might simply laugh at him, and say something he would hate to hear.

Why did he care that she heard? Because there was no reason for an attraction! There was no reason for him to like her, for she was simply not his type. He usually went for the more silent, higher ranked, successful, blonde and simpering. The type that relied on him. It was a low thing to go for, but it made a relationship more easy to deal with than a perceptive person laying claim to every one of his faults.

Darcy was beginning to get a headache, like he usually did when something wasn't easy to deal with. His job was hard enough, managing so many different places all around the world, but now for some poor American girl to rampage into his life, things were getting worse! With a sigh, he ran his hands through his damp hair, and saw how muddled his suit was. Groaning in fatigue, he leaned back, the light in the hallway fading as the nurse saw him settling to sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, Will fell asleep. He didn't care that it was only 7:00 in the evening, he was feeling rather beaten and sore. At first, he had slight suspicion that Whickham might come up behind him, and do something stupid, but as darkness clouded his vision as he fell into slumber –even though he told himself that he would forget his attraction and anything to do with her after making sure she was fine- all he could see was Elizabeth's look of anger as they wheeled her away, and the suspicion in her eyes that told him something was wrong.

Darcy woke the next morning, his back stiff, and his muscles tense from how he had slept the whole night. Someone was standing in front of him, a notepad in hand, and an accusation in her eyes.

"Yes ma'am, how can I assist you?" He groaned, stretching to get the blood rushing back to his arms. The nurse raised an eyebrow, and tapped on her notepad.

"Who are you with, and why are you here?" She demanded crankily, now tapping a foot. Darcy managed to tell her the information, and she –grudgingly satisfied- walked away, flipping on a light in the hallway, blinding him momentarily. Will blinked several times before he was able to see without dots clouding his vision. Grinning slightly, he stood up, and went to the restroom to clean himself up.

He looked a hell of a lot worse than he thought, with bags under his eyes, rumpled suit, and stubble on his chin. With a grumble, he washed his face, letting it air dry as he walked down the hall to the room that they had taken her into. Glancing at the clipboard on the door, it said that her, and some 40-year-old man were in there. Putting on a businesslike air, he opened the door, and came face to face with none other than Jack Whickham himself. The day couldn't get any worse.

Oh no! Not another Cliff hanger!! What will he do? How will he survive the torment? Maybe Jacky boy has bad breath? Or maybe he looks worse than Darcy! YAY! I hope so, but maybe he'll look better, for Lizzie's sake. Oh no! What happened to her? Is she ok? Find out next time in!...

Chapter 5!!! If I get 15 reviews, you'll get this one asap!

I have to admit, this chapter's kinda lame… so yeah, I don't care if you're UBER mean to me, I would deserve it.

-The writer.