Disclaimer: The only thing that's mine is this individual storyline. The movies mentioned in this chapter are also not mine.

A/N: One chapter to go after this!


Chapter 8

After both Edward and I had our showers and changed clothes, we were going to meet downstairs in the living room to choose a movie. I was downstairs before him, so I settled onto the couch to wait. Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper had gone back outside and were building again. I couldn't be sure at first, but it looked as if they were building snowmen. Each person was working on their own figure but were constantly surveying each other. It took me a few minutes to realize that they were making their snowmen look like one another. Rosalie had done a remarkable job building "Emmett," all the way down to his wide, goofy grin, which she constructed out of broken twigs. His version of her was equally elaborate, but I couldn't take my eyes off Jasper's and Alice's work.

Jasper had built a petite figure, adding Alice's spiky black hair to the head using leaves from the various trees nearby. He was beginning to draw the outlines of clothing when I looked over to Alice who was busily creating "Jasper." She kept having to climb on her creation so she could work on the head and face, as the snowman was life-sized. Once the head was complete, she drew several crescent shapes on the surface of Snow Jasper with her index finger, adding scars to him. I looked back over to Jasper, who by this point had made a pair of high-heeled shoes for Snow Alice to carry. Jasper and Alice simultaneously reached for the tree branches that they had set aside for arms. When they were finished, Snow Jasper and Snow Alice appeared to be strolling through the yard, arm in twiggy arm.

Edward came downstairs then, and we set to work choosing a movie. Contrary to logic, this was not an easy task. Neither of us wanted to watch an action movie, but beyond that, we were struggling to make a decision.

"What about a musical, like Grease or West Side Story?" I asked. Those were both good to watch curled up with someone you loved.

"Not West Side Story, it's too much like Romeo and Juliet—it doesn't fit with today's fun," he insisted. "How about The Phantom of the Opera or Singin' in the Rain?"

"Nah, not today. What about…Wuthering Heights?" I knew I'd get a reaction with that.

"Ugh, NO! Plus, the film was awful—way too theatrical for the brooding tone of the novel."

"Snob." I winked at him before continuing. "What about Some Like it Hot?"

This went on entirely too long before we finally settled on Pride and Prejudice, though I don't know exactly how I got him to agree to that.

"Seriously?" Jasper asked from outside. I looked out the door, startled. I didn't even know there were listening out there. Jasper was lying in the snow as Alice knelt next to him, burying him with snow as normal people buried each other in the sand at the beach. He was covered almost to his chin, but he turned his face toward the house as he shouted, "You should have picked Gone With the Wind—at least it's an interesting time period, if I do say so myself."

We debated with him for a few minutes until Alice finished burying him, completely covering his head. It was only a matter of seconds before he jumped to his feet, scattering snow everywhere and started chasing Alice playfully. It was odd seeing him act this way; Jasper was usually very low-key and unexcitable, yet there he was, chasing his wife through the snow and laughing freely.

I turned my attention back to Edward, who was shaking his head and smiling. "You should hear them, too. Their understanding of each other is quiet unique—they complement each other perfectly."

"Rather like us…and Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy," I replied, returning his smile. Pride and Prejudice was one of my favorite books and this was the best film adaptation of the book which we had decided to watch. My enthusiasm was rising to Alice-worthy levels and I began bouncing on the balls of my bare feet. "C'mon, Edward! Let's watch!"

He muttered something along the lines of "too much Alice" and "enigmas," but went to put the first dvd in the player. I rolled my eyes at his comments and sat on the couch, pulling a blanket around me. As the opening title sequence began, Edward joined me, putting his arm around my shoulders. Unconsciously, I leaned my head against the top part of his arm.

The movie was engrossing, to say the least—I'd seen it several times before, but I never tired of it. The characters were true to the book, perfectly cast and the story itself was wonderful. Edward and I made little comments to each other while we watched, often drawing comparisons between the characters and people we knew.

At the first appearance of Miss Bingley, Edward and I, without looking away from the screen, deadpanned, "Jessica." Who else could resemble the mostly false friend who was terribly jealous, pretentious and after the hero for herself? I did like Jessica, she certainly had good qualities; she just wasn't the most trustworthy person I'd ever met.

I sighted when Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth bickered at one of the early dances—it reminded me of the hostility I had felt from Edward the first day I met him. The parallels between Jane Austen's story and my own recent life were both amusing and startling at the same time. I began thinking about the similarities while I watched the movie. This really could be a loose version of us, I thought, in some strange alternate universe, that is. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Edward calling out.

"Mike Newton," he spat with disdain, pointing to the character of Mr. Collins. "Completely self-absorbed, clueless, obnoxious and insufferable, the obsequious fool." On the screen, Mr. Collins had set about trying to charm the Bennett sisters, speaking about his manner of complimenting ladies and his own greatness while constantly bowing, leering and being generally annoying.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Tell me what you really think, Edward. I don't think Mike is as bad as Mr. Collins though." Most of the time, I added silently.

"He is a child." At this qualification, I rolled my eyes again.

"Whatever, old man." He chuckled lightly, then went back to berating Mike and Mr. Collins.

We bantered playfully a while longer before going back to the movie. I adjusted my position on the couch so that I was lying on my side, my head resting on Edward's leg. My fingers were absently tracing circles on his knee, while he laid one of his hands on the curve of my waist. It was easy to imagine spending many nights doing exactly this in the future. I didn't think anything could make me happier.

Before I knew it, the movie was nearing the end. Edward leaned forward to look me in the eyes. In a completely serious tone, he asked "Are you going to go all weird on me when Colin Firth jumps in the pond?"

Even before I caught the glint in his eye, I laughed out loud, a short quick laugh. "No, silly. I'll wait till he gets out of the pond." I somehow managed to sound nonchalant and kept a straight face. As Edward processed what I was saying, his eyes widened with shock. I could no longer contain myself and burst into a fit of giggles.

He relaxed a little then, catching on to my joke. I noticed though, that he tensed a little when Mr. Darcy went for a swim, and tensed further when he climbed from the pond.

"Really, Edward," I scoffed. I immediately felt a bit guilty; I'd been teasing him a lot this weekend, something I rarely do. "Relax, I'm not a 'Darcy Party' kind of girl. I prefer a man who would sit with me in a meadow. Besides, you sparkle."

Even Edward had to laugh at that.

We went back to watching the movie, and by the conclusion, I was crying, as I always do. Edward gently wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. There was a reason this was one of my favorite stories. And now, here I was, a simple, ordinary person, involved in my own version of Jane Austen's masterpiece.

"What, may I ask Miss Swan, are you thinking?" Edward asked as he adopted the diction of the early 19th century.

"I was pondering, no, marveling at how lucky I am," I said, trying to continue the rather formal language. I couldn't keep a smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Miss Swan, it is I who is the lucky one, to have a woman such as yourself accept me. I am hopelessly enamored with you and…"

He stopped speaking as I held up one hand, palm facing him, in front of me, my other hand against my cheek. "You must stop speaking so, Mr. Cullen, or I will have to quit the room!" We were both getting into this now, fighting smiles as we spoke.

He took both of my hands in his, staring intently and earnestly into my eyes. "I beg your pardon, Miss Swan. I do not mean to offend your sensibilities by speaking so openly. It is difficult for me to remember how new it is to you, to hear such things of my feelings and believe them, when I have been certain of them for so long. I have been accustomed to thinking of you as my intended, even before your acceptance of my hand."

I couldn't take it anymore. I blushed a deep scarlet, feeling the burn from my neck to my hairline. The giggles quickly followed.

"Why, Miss Swan! You seem to have been overcome by hysterics, quite suddenly. Shall I escort you to your room, so you can rest?" He was apparently channeling Alice, because at that moment, I yawned in spite of my giggles.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Cullen, that would be most kind of you," I managed to say.

He needed no further inducement as he swept me off the couch and into his arms in one fluid motion.

"Mr. Cullen!" I said, with mock surprise.

Edward simply grinned as he raced up the stairs.


A/N: The P&P film referred to is the 1995 version, produced by the BBC. Let me know if you need/want clarification on the whole "Darcy Party" thing…

The ending of this chapter is my first attempt at mimicking Austen's prose, so if it stinks, I beg your forgiveness, dear readers.