Lizzie and Caroline. A present for succexiest and butwewereokay.
Lizzie has a moment of blind panic when she hears Caroline unexpectedly scream from downstairs. (Apparently, in addition to marble countertops, Capitolesque furniture, and showerheads-to-die-for, Netherfield has simply stunning acoustics.)
In high school, Lizzie's class learned more than she had ever wanted to know about World War II. It's all kind of a repressed haze now, but there was one memorable day they spent discussing psychological tactics employed by the Germans during air raids. Her teacher had demonstrated the demoralizing effect of screaming sirens (Jericho Trumpets, they were called) attached to dive bomber planes…
…by literally shrieking in front of the class. Admittedly, it's nothing like what one would probably feel during an actual blitzkrieg, but all the same- the visceral terror of those few seconds is still seared into her brain.
So when Lizzie hears the sound, she's back in 11th grade again, frozen in her seat. Her mouth is dumbly hanging open and everything. It's not that she's never heard anyone cry out like that; her mother has a certain proclivity for, well, wailing. But Caroline isn't exactly the type to freak out. They'd watched Frenzy the other night and the woman hadn't even flinched.
She finds her in the kitchen. "What just happened?"
Caroline shakes her head and gestures at a spider hesitating on the tile. "What is with all of the spiders in this town? God, nature is the absolute worst."
It moves and she recoils with a sharp intake of breath. Strands of hair are slipping out of place.
"We're in suburban California, not the Amazon," Lizzie tries not to laugh.
"Regardless. Darcy isn't here to kill the damned thing, and Bing will just let it outside and it'll crawl right back in and find me. It's seen me now, and spiders are vengeful; they never forget."
(Caroline does not ordinarily swear.)
"That's elephants. You're thinking of elephants."
She's actually trembling a little. "I am in no mood, Lizzie Bennet."
It's a strangely endearing situation. Lizzie has her own irrational fear of birds. She can empathize.
The thing about Caroline is, she's the type of person who puts everyone else perpetually off-balance. That air of perfection. The haughty, cool detachment. The way she seems to tower over everyone in her imprudently high heels.
It's good to know the woman is only human.
"Luckily, we are modern, non-distressed damsels who can take care of spiders even without the men around," Lizzie grabs a paper towel and—
Squish.