Flip.

William Darcy, CEO.

Flip.

Blank white card.

Flip.

William Darcy, CEO.

Flip.

I sighed and looked up at the pastor, speaking. To my left, Warren. To my right, Mary. Mum wasn't taken any chances today. I slid the card into the pages of my bible.

Anna wouldn't let it go.

"What do you think that means?" my sister asked, taking off her sunglasses as we entered the house. My eyes dimmed to the darkened lounge room and I walked over to the curtains, calling over my shoulder.

"It doesn't mean anything," I said, yanking open the heavy drape with a forceful tug. "It's just a name. Just a horrible man's name."

"You never know, Lizzie," spoke Anna with a sly smile, perched in the middle of the room with her sneaky arms folded, "maybe you'll fall in love with William Darcy."

"No. He's a jerk."

The other curtain vigorously pulled to the side, heat and light sparkled up the ever-present dust.

"The character, or the man who likes your freckles?"

With a jolt of chagrin, I spun around to her "He what?"

Anna shrugged. "I overheard him once."

Raising an eyebrow, my fingers grabbed my waist and I pouted.

"Both."

Anna bit her lip and smiled, finally twirling on her foot and ambling down the hall.

"Well, that's what Elizabeth Bennet thought of him before they understood each other properly..." her voice floated back.

I allowed myself the luxury of dramatically rolling my eyes to my audience of none, before skipping a step and chasing after her. "But, you see," I said, clearing the entry way to our room, "the difference between Mr. Darcy-the-character and Will Darcy-modern-day-moron, is that Mr. Darcy-the-character was actually a good guy deep down inside. Will Darcy is just… he's just... one of the bad ones."

Anna clearly didn't believe me.

"Besides," I continued as I sauntering towards her, seated daintily on the edge of her bed, "everyone knows that Lizzie and Mr. Darcy actually had a thing for each other. Elizabeth Bennet-fine-eyes-incarnate was secretly pining for Mr. Darcy the whole time while, I, on the other hand, can't stand my Will and his pride and conceit and what he thinks is proper."

"You have read it though, right?"

"Yeah, of course, Mrs. White wouldn't let me pass Year 11 unless I did. But Mr. Darcy was a snob, William Darcy is a jerk, and that's all there is to it."

Anna smiled knowingly. "Maybe you should read it again sometime…"

"Yeah, revisit high school," I answered with a grin, "that's exactly what I want to do."

At that moment, the front door screeched open and voices filled the hall.

"…there were fairy lights covering the…"

"…plenty of wealthy single men there and…"

Knock, knock.

"Come in if you're ugly," I summoned.

The door opened slightly and a head popped around.

"Oh, uh, hello girls," muttered Warren, beady eyes wandering over our slightly messy abode. "I was wondering, Elizabeth, if we-… who's that?"

Warren was looking across to the far wall where a tattered poster of Antonio Banderas covered the hole we'd accidentally gouged out late one night during a game of Fruit Dodgeball. It's actually a really fun game.

"That's Antonio, Anna's saving herself for him," I answered.

Anna blushed a little and subtly tossed a plush toy at me, while I never broke focus towards Warren and his growing confusion.

"I thought your mum said he was an investment broker."

"He's Zorro, and an investment broker… who wouldn't want to marry him?"

"Oh, I see," he said, nodding his head, which was still poking through the door. He continued peering around at our room.

"Can we help you, Warren?" I asked politely.

"Oh, yes, of course. Uh, Elizabeth, we should take a walk."

"Right now? It's 34 degrees out there…"

"Oh, well, yes. Right now is the perfect time for a… for… it."

I narrowed my eyes, bewildered, sceptical.

"I guess we could… give us a minute to get ready."

"Oh, I just mean you, Elizabeth – Anna can come along at another time if she wants but this instance I just need… that is to say… well…I just need you."

In an instant, his head disappeared from the doorway and I fell backwards onto the patchwork quilt.

"Two more days, right? He's only here for two more days?"

Anna nodded.

"What's the worst that could happen in two days?"

"Elizabeth."

The short walk we'd taken around the barren block had been nothing more than a gawky wander sprinkled with stilted conversation. He'd talked of tax returns and financial markets and I'd talked of science and astronomy and turning into our driveway, relief flowed through my veins as the prospect of shade and water and a social buffer drew nearer.

Suddenly, I felt my palm touch sometime warm and slimy. I peered down at my hand, horrified and in shock as a chubbier, sweatier hand held my own.

"You cannot be oblivious to how much I like you, no, of course not. Why, I've seen you just as interested in me, that's normal for a girl like you…"

Panicking, I tried vehemently to remove my fingers from his grasp, but the grip was firm and his attention focused on the words now pouring out of his mouth.

"…and if I were to be truly honest, you'd know that I chose to stay with your father because I remembered that he had five daughters of varying beauty and skill, that is to say, uh, some of you girls are more suited to be my wife than others, and as an up-and-coming accountant, it has been brought to my attention that married businessmen are more likely to be trusted and promoted, so that is another reason why you would fill the position adequately, uh, not position per se, the role of mother and wife, I mean… but I digress."

Temporarily resigned to my hand being in his, I grunted in frustration and glared at him. His own eyes were off, converged on the distant clouds, his thin lips moving frantically as his speech continued.

"It was evident from almost the very beginning that you were the one for me, my true soul mate. Elizabeth, I have intense feelings towards you and I think we should get married, and not waste any time about it."

I did have intense feelings towards him, that much was true, but they definitely weren't the same type as his.

"…No."

"And, before we tell your family, please know that I have been made aware of your rather lacking financial situation and enormous university debts, but I won't bring that up when we're married. Of course, I'll have to pay it off because you won't be working, but I'll never let that be an issue between us."

I cocked my head and stared my suitor down.

"Warren, I said 'no'. There is no way I want to marry you."

His pompous smile widened.

"Of course, I understand this little charade we play - you say no, but mean yes, and I keep asking until you do… so, will you marry me?" he asked slyly with a wink.

I'm gonna hit him.

"NO! And no, this isn't some charade, Warren, I really don't want to marry you. At all. Ever."

His face fell, finally, dramatically. Sweat began to pool in the ridges of his forehead as his expression hardened.

"But Elizabeth," he spoke disbelievingly, controlled emotion edging his voice, "you're supposed to be the smart one. Use your brains, I am a very eligible bachelor and who's to say when someone else will want to marry you…"

Unbidden, my eyes opened larger, amazed at his sentiment and even more repulsed at his offer. The fingers not kidnapped by Warren's started to clench into a fist and I bit my jaw shut.

"…I can only assume, then, that you realize this and are merely toying with my emotions. That being known, I ask you once again, for the last time Elizabeth, will you be my wife?"

"No!"

I ripped my hand away from his, exasperation flowing over its mental stronghold, thoroughly saturating my thoughts and my voice. "You need to leave the house, Warren, now. There is no longer any good reason for you to stay here."

Warren seemed genuinely taken aback. I'd kicked him out. Behaviour like that was not at all like a tamed wife of an accountant.

"Warren, honey, she doesn't mean that…" soothed Mum, now bursting out of the front door, arms flailing and head shaking, because apparently my privacy is something of a joke.

As she hurried outside, determined to coax her perceived son-in-law to give it another try, I raced inside to find Dad. He would agree with me, surely.

A red-faced Warren exited Dad's office and sauntered to Mary's room. Twenty minutes later, his bags were packed and he stood aloof, in the pitiful shade of our one withered tree, waiting for a taxi.

"Please, Warren, at least let Mary drive you to your hotel," my mother pleaded, because she had no sense of maintaining the Bennet dignity.

"No, thank you," he addressed sternly, raising his head enough to look down at Mum, "It has been made clear to me that I have intruded on your hospitality for long enough."

"Oh, but you haven't Warren, you haven't, why don't I get you a drink before you leave? Mary! Come here!"

Holding down the Venetian blinds severely, I peered at the discourse through Dad's study window.

"Will the wrath of Mum be very severe, do you think?" I asked, releasing the blinds and facing my father. The sharp beams of daylight slicing through the Venetians contrasted effectively with the musty dimness of Dad's favourite room.

His skinny legs were propped against the desk, a book on Early Australian Prime Ministers resting open on his lap. Greying eyebrows fought for dominance over his thick-rimmed glasses, but not for one moment were his eyes anything but bright and alive.

"Nothing we've not handled before," said Dad, briefly raising his eyes. "More to the point, your mother knows I would never part with you for anything less than one hundred grand and a nice scotch."

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards as I returned my gaze to the window.

"You're all heart, Dad."

A/N - Are you all stressing that Lizzie doesn't love Pride and Prejudice like us? Just chill guys, deep breaths. Some love stories take time.

Are you reading this on a phone? Because if you are, all I can say is that the line breaks are smoking something or whatnot cos they are whacked up all over the place. The computadors seem okay.

Kudos to Kmart92 and NerdyBirdy97 for the reviews and the fun conversations. Here's a song I'd like to dedicate to you...

"You... light up my lifeeeeeee..."

*cats begin to howl in the distance*

And, if you've Story Followed *raises an eyebrow, points around the room* ...I know who you are... take this as your invitation to tell me what you think about how the story is going, which characters you love, who you want to punch, even you're own little love story about boys that read novels alone in cafes.

Then maybe I'll sing a song to you too, unknown reader, BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO LOVE YOU.

*Cue: Ne-Yo's Let Me Love You*