Lily P.O.V

He said with alarming conviction, "I am Fitzwilliam Darcy." His waistcoat held tightly to his masculine frame, the white neck cloth brought my attention to his attractive face, and his tan trousers were partially covered up to the knee by his boots. A Jane Austen fanatic?

"Stop playing this game! Who are you?" I nearly screamed at him. This was too weird, too strange. The mark, a fictional character, the warmth of his hand...

He still held tightly to my wrist, his fingers lightly caressing my veins. I wanted to tell him to let go, but something held me in his grasp, something so intense...

"Madame, I have told you everything! I am lost. I might have took a wrong turn, and I apologize deeply."

The man's eyes bore deep into mine, his expression just as confused as I seemed to be. The marks seared our skin, embedding who knows what into our flesh. He continued to stare, looking me up and down, taking in my slightly too tight shirt and low riding sweat pants. I blushed.

"But really," he asked, his eyes flashing with perplexity,"What in the world were those markings?"

"I-I don't know." I stammered. As impossible as it seemed, Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing in my kitchen. I had no reason to believe it was not him. The marks were unexplainable. If they could exist, so could he.

Darcy straightened, gently pulling me up with him, ever the gentleman. His deep brown eyes stared deeply into my gray. His eyes widened in utter horror.

"Elizabeth!" He let go of my arm and ran back to my closet, entering it forcefully and throwing things aside, as if the way he came was through a small hole. Elizabeth! How could I have forgotten if he was here, what was she to do?

"No, no, no, NO!" He came out anxiously pacing, running his fingers threw his dark brown hair. His eyes pressed tightly closed in frustration, no, agony, as the realization that he had no way back to the character I had fantasized being only minutes before.

Darcy painfully glanced over to me, as I stood there awkwardly as he finished his tirade.

"I need to get back! Now!" He shouted at me, the once proper gentleman turned into the desperate maniac.

"I-I understand that, I really do, just let me think!" I said, and tugged my shirt down a little to cover my stomach more, though I accidentally exposed my cleavage. I tugged it back up.

There was no point in thinking, as I had no clue what brought him here. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. The fictional man I was destined to love was in my apartment panicking about getting back to his immortal love. My life was taking the strangest turn of the history of mankind.

"I don't have time to just let you think! The woman I love is being utterly seduced by a vulture of a man!" He gritted through his teeth, and shivered at his gruffness. He was definitely the pre-letter Fitzwilliam Darcy, I thought as he glared at me.

As if on sequence with my thoughts, he pulled something out of his waistcoat. It was a cream colored envelope, sealed with red wax.

Crap!

He was sent here exactly as he was to change the course of events in the story. Elizabeth was never going to fall in love with him if she didn't get his letter!

He looked crushed, windblown, destitute.

"Just sit down for a moment, okay?" I waved him over to a chair in the kitchen, and he somberly obeyed. His body froze into a ridged position in his seat and he stared emptily at the envelope.

What was I going to do with him?

I wanted to hug him, and stroke his face like I had dreamt about. But that would only creep the mess out of him, and as he was under my sole care and keeping (not to mention in extreme anxiety), perving on him would not be very good at this moment.

I walked through the conjoined living room and kitchen space. What I saw next made my heart jump to my throat.

Pride and Prejudice was still laying on the sofa.

I quickly grabbed it, making a loud noise as I tripped on the long cotton fringe on the sofa. Darcy looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes.

I quickly got up and turned away from him. I then tried to push the book up my shirt.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked from behind me.

"N-no! Of course not! I am just adjusting...adjusting my bra!" I shouted over my shoulder to him.

"Adjusting your what?" I could hear his voice getting nearer. No, go away Darcy! Go away! I pushed the book up further.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The doorbell rung, as someone pressed it repeatedly.

"Coming!" I shouted, and turned to go through the kitchen where the front door was. Brown eyes met mine and they slowly dropped to the book shaped lump in my shirt, right below my breasts. A blush appeared across his face.

Darcy!

"Darcy! I need you to hide!" I whispered harshly. I grabbed his arm and pushed him into the closet, tripping over the shoes and random objects he threw out when he was searching for the way back to his world.

The bell rung again impatiently. "Coming!" I shouted over my shoulder as I tossed the items back into the closet with him. I heard an "oomph" as a shoe connected with Darcy's face.

"Sorry!" I whispered and hurriedly shut the closet door. I ran to the front door and unbolted it hastily.

A tall man with silky blond hair stood in the hallway. Stylish and expensive clothing fitted tightly against his body.

"Steve!" I gasped.

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