Write My Name On A Sidewalk and Hope It Stays
Rated: T
Disclaimer: Call my lawyer at 19856552500 because he'll never tell you a lie or run around and hurt you.
Songs: King of Anything by Sara Bareilles (for Lizzie).
Reviewers (who are freaking epic):
Amandald98: Lol, I'm the same way. XD Really? I hear it all the time, but watching a hoard of Smosh videos recently has gotten it in my head. It does sound sophisticated… but, really, for all they've done, they deserve a better name than 'ass'.
Clarinetto14: :) Thank you. Lol, I was worried about that scene, so I'm glad you found it hilarious. I'll be updating as quick as I can between homework and tennis, no worries.
SilverStella: :D Thanks for the review.
HappyAbbey: Lol, I hope you didn't get some on your keyboard. Oh, yes, they were…
Merrilymary: That's good, lol. You know Collins would do that. Thank you! :)
CrossroadsofLife: Thank you. C:
Fspsarcastic: Hello. :3 Thank you – I update as soon as I can, I assure you.
.snow0: Thank you. :D
- And Loosing Him, Too -
"Are you all right?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing Darcy's face critically as he was tying the laces of the skates he rented out. Over the course of the day, he'd steadily grown paler in all areas but his nose and cheeks, which had gone considerably red; while she wasn't the only one to notice his deteriorating looks, Elizabeth was the only one to voice her concerns for Darcy. All of his family knew he'd just ignore them or refuse to admit he wasn't feeling well while Charlotte and Bill thought this was normal and fine since no one bothered him. Maria was still too intimidated by him to speak to him directly, providing a good, humorous situation when lunch and dinner had passed.
"Perfectly chipper, thanks." Darcy rasped, perfectly aware of how his joints ached and his nose ran slightly; however, he was still trying to ignore those facts since he wanted to be able to spend the whole day with Elizabeth. As he'd made it to the last event of the day, ice-skating, he was adamant against going to the hotel alone and causing everyone to have to cram (illegally) into Richard's rental. Elizabeth frowned, looking down at the skates in her hand, wondering what she should do; everyone else but Richard and Anne were already skating, the latter two taking a stroll around the plaza. As she didn't know how to skate, Elizabeth knew she wouldn't mind going somewhere with Darcy to warm him up.
"Look, Fitz, you don't—"
"Wait, what?" Darcy interrupted her, gazing up from his skates imploringly; he was pretty sure Elizabeth had desisted in calling him "Darcy" and had instead addressed him as "Fitz."
"Fitz. I'm going to call you that now, so like it or lump it. As I was saying, you don't look very well, regardless of what you're saying." Elizabeth replied with a hint of a smile, relishing the fact she'd caught him off guard.
"Do you know how to skate?" Darcy asked after a minute of debating, mentally, of what her distress for him could mean. To him, the prospects that he was winning her over looked swell. Elizabeth paused, mouth partly open, before flushing slightly.
"Don't try to change the subject, F—"
"Come here and sit; put your skates on. I'm going to teach you how to skate."
It was Elizabeth's turn to say, "Wait, what?" Seeing her pause, Darcy took advantage of the situation and pulled her down onto the bench he was sitting on next to him, taking the skates from her grasp. Elizabeth just watched, a bit confounded, as Darcy lifted her feet from the ground to his lap and pulled the right skate snugly onto her foot, making sure it fit well, before tying the laces tightly and placing it back down on the ground; he proceeded to do the same to the other before Elizabeth noticed he'd changed the subject completely from his well-being.
"Okay, I admit not knowing how to skate, but you look really sick, Fitz." She said, forgetting momentarily that she wasn't clad in just her socks anymore, and standing up to try to get a height advantage over him for once. Elizabeth wobbled almost instantaneously, causing Darcy to take her waist in his grasp and pull her back down onto the bench.
"And we're only going to be here for an hour or so which won't matter in the long run. Allow me to teach you how to skate, Ellie." Darcy fibbed smoothly, wondering how many hours the extra hour out would cost him; he knew he already had at least a day in bed. He'd made sure to dress warmly, but, nonetheless, he'd gotten ill… as per usual. Elizabeth narrowed her hazel eyes, taking in his whole appearance and words meticulously; although Darcy looked like crap, he had a sincere tone and expression that made her acquiesce. Darcy smiled when he saw Elizabeth nod slowly, rising to his feet and holding out his gloved hands; she took them, letting his firm grip keep her stable.
"Give it a minute, you should find your balance… unless you lack it totally." He joked quietly, not wanting to talk too loudly in case Elizabeth heard the quaver in his voice lest she decide to change her mind and push to get him back to the hotel. Elizabeth just stuck her tongue out of him, choosing to concentrate on getting her balance instead of dignifying his words with a tart reply; Darcy just smirked, patiently waiting, content with being her person to lean on.
"Okay, I think I've got it… you can let go now, so if I fall, you won't go down with me." Elizabeth said after a minute, still a bit unsure but very aware of the jealous looks or knowing smiles they were getting. Darcy opened his mouth to speak but got cut off by a series of coughs he directed into his right shoulder, groaning softly when the fit passed. He'd had quite a few bouts of coughing and sneezing already, but he didn't want Elizabeth to be so acutely aware of them like she was now.
"Fitz, really, stop—"
"I'm fine, Ellie. Please don't make me ruin everyone else's night since Ritz can't take all of you home legally. Please."
With the accompaniment of a weak sniffle, Darcy's pleading, glassy eyes won Elizabeth over; she wasn't exceptionally happy about it, though.
"You'll tell me if you feel worse, right? Promise?" Elizabeth said, looking up at Darcy with wide, beseeching eyes - her own puppy dog look. His initial thoughts ran along the lines of telling her when they were going home to tell Elizabeth if he felt worse; but with his conscious already whining about his earlier exaggeration of the truth, Darcy found himself nodding slowly, leaning his head down to hers. Elizabeth froze instantly when his forehead, teased by his bangs curling over the low edge of his beanie, pressed against her own bare forehead, save for her fringe; it reminded her, violently, of the almost-kiss back in her parents' stables nearly a half a year previous and the words that followed. However, those thoughts were expelled from her mind when Elizabeth realized how warm his forehead felt.
"I promise." Darcy mumbled, feeling slightly hurt and perplexed when she stiffened. Elizabeth had been flirting with him and was worried about his well-being… didn't that mean something? He nearly hissed aloud when he remembered the word 'friend' and how easily she could stuff him into that category.
"Now, come on, we're wasting time." Darcy pulled back from her, taking two steps before tugging on her left hand, letting her right sip from his grasp. Frowning slightly, concern for him rising, Elizabeth took a few wobbly baby steps to catch up to him, glad Darcy hadn't released her fully like she'd requested.
"That's it, Ellie. I've got you if you fall."
Slowly but surely, Darcy delivered Elizabeth to the ice, both of them nearly slipping when they first got onto it. She had to laugh at her teacher's moment of clumsiness, wondering if he actually knew how to skate or not.
"Stop laughing, nutter. I never said I skated well; I just said I'd teach you how to." Darcy gnarred teasingly, holding Elizabeth's hands tightly in his own as he'd taken back her right when she'd started to join him on the ice.
"Okay, whatever, old man. How many people have you taught to skate, anyways?" Elizabeth ribbed, a toothy grin forming on her face as she looked up at him questioningly.
"Just two, and both were around eight or nine at the time. One is trying to teach Willy how to skate now." Darcy said, trying to skate backwards steadily. Because he hadn't done so in years, he was failing miserably to Elizabeth's amusement. When he taught Georgiana and Anne, he'd been skating every year thanks to the pond that always froze over at Pemberley. Elizabeth looked from Darcy to Georgiana, who was a much better skater, trying to show a severely shaking Bill how to skate.
"And the other?" She asked, turning back to him sharply when one of her legs started sliding backwards on its own volition. Darcy, seeing the movement, decided to swing to her side, giving up on going backwards; releasing her hands momentarily, he linked his right arm through her left and intertwined their fingers.
"That would be Anne… she was a quick learner, always on her feet doing something before…" Darcy finally replied, trailing off as he tried to lead Elizabeth, taking baby steps for her. Elizabeth gave his hand a squeeze, trying to imagine a young Anne squealing in pleasure, racing a teenaged Darcy around on a patch of ice; she couldn't imagine the pain Anne was going through for loosing her freedom of mobility on her own.
"Enough depressing bits. Have you ever skated before – not ice-skated, but in line? Ice-skating is a bit like that…" Darcy said, trying to draw Elizabeth's attention from Anne's despairing story; he could see the contemplative frown tugging at her lips already. He could feel the urge again to take her frown away, tugging at his heart, just like a few minutes ago when she'd worn one for his sake.
"I did, some… but I was terrible at it. Jane was a good teacher, but I've never really had balance on things that weren't my own feet like horses, bikes, skates – in line or ice, skateboards… all of that." Elizabeth replied, grateful for him to change the topic, unaware of how intensely attuned he was to what she felt and showed. Darcy smirked at the revelation, wishing they were in Derbyshire instead of New York so he could take her for a wild ride she'd be totally dependant on him for.
"What about you, any sports you've done? I can't imagine you on any team sports with your reclusive attitude." Elizabeth asked, not liking his smirk since she didn't know what he was thinking about. She didn't even realize Darcy had pulled her from baby steps to almost normal steps.
"I played some lacrosse… joined my dad for a round of golf or fishing sometimes… I horseback ride when I can, run every day, mountain bike, and when I'm in Derbyshire, motorbike. Nothing really stuck with me other than riding, biking, running, and fishing. As you can tell, my ice-skating skills have diminished. And you?" Darcy recalled the sports he'd tried over the years, only mentioning the ones he'd enjoyed greatly or shown a great aptitude to. Elizabeth just shrugged, hugging Darcy's arm to her side when she started to slip, reaching back to the far recess of her mind. Although she was what people would call and "outdoor-sy" type, she had never really done much but hike.
"I tried horseback riding but got bucked off, the only thing with wheels I have driven or ridden before and can control it is an automobile, and no sport really caught my fancy for very long. I've tried a few, like soccer, volleyball, gymnastics... but the only active things I do currently every now and then is hike, go on nature walks, or yoga." Elizabeth confessed, looking down and noticing, for the first time, their intertwined fingers. It didn't bother her, however. After she spoke, Darcy was struck with thoughts how flexible Elizabeth could be and how he could test her physical abilities; frowning slightly, he tried to dispel his admittedly naughty thoughts before they brought a corporeal reaction from him. He now also understood her unease when he'd gotten her to ride Tybalt and felt the familiar tug of guilt nibbling away at his soul.
"I apologize for getting you on—" Darcy stopped short, turning to the thankfully close railing and coughing, grabbing the banister for support after slipping his hand form Elizabeth's. She took his side in her grasp for support, finding none in his jerking body; Elizabeth left one hand comfortingly on Darcy's side but took the banister securely in her other hand, watching him closely. The coughing fit that wracked his body lasted long enough for Georgiana to skate over, Bill crawling along the railing with Charlotte and Maria skating slowly but surely after her, anxiously waiting on the side Elizabeth wasn't on.
"Fizz, I think–"
"Geogie, it's okay…" Darcy rasped, interrupting his sister, giving her a weak smile. His sides burned and ached and he was a bit out of breath now, but the fit was over. Usually, this would win over his concerned relatives, giving him peace, but Elizabeth was at his other side, not willing to take it. She slipped beneath his arm to be encompassed by Darcy's body, arms, and the side railing of the rink, wearing a tremendous frown. Her actions surprised Georgiana as she thought Elizabeth didn't like her brother.
"Fitzwilliam Something Darcy, you promised!" Elizabeth snapped, poking him hard in the chest quickly before returning her hand to the banister, trying to keep her from sliding down and onto the ice. Darcy's lips quirked at the edges, getting the mental image of her chastising him with her hands on her hips, wearing something of his and flustered adorably like she was now. Elizabeth colored slightly at the content, slightly longing look that had formed on Darcy's face, both having forgotten about their little audience.
"That I did, love, that I did. And it's Benjamin, not Something, if you're going to keep on saying that." Darcy conceded, sniffling. He leaned back from the railing and became conscious of Georgiana, Bill, Charlotte, and Maria again, his already ruddy cheeks darkening. Elizabeth turned and impeccable shade of red at the smirk she saw Charlotte wearing and wanted to die when she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Georgie, could you call Richard? I'm afraid I've a promise I need to keep." Darcy asked, choosing to ignore his sister's flabbergasted look. He moved back to let Elizabeth free, holding out his hand for her to take; she did so, quite hesitantly, eyes flashing to the little group next to them. Darcy gave her hand a squeeze, wondering if she was concerned about people knowing about them or just naturally coy when it came to having a significant other (because Darcy had long ago stopped being a boy), her actions form the day confirming his thoughts that she fancied him and wouldn't deny him the very great pleasure of having a stunning girlfriend could bestow. Elizabeth, however, was not in that state of mind; she was, in fact, embarrassed about all the attention they were receiving form their party and other women, curious as to why everyone was interested in them. She was oblivious to the looks Darcy was constantly giving her and thought nothing more of his actions from friendly deeds.
Georgiana ended up driving the Cobalt home with Maria joining their threesome, Darcy falling out of it as soon as he was inside the warm interior of his car. Richard had been surprised when he'd received the call, but it wore off when Georgiana explained to him who had gotten Darcy to agree he wasn't feeling well. At the hotel, Charlotte decided to be devious and joined her sister and Elizabeth in their room, her cell phone hidden in her hand; she had turned it to the recording screen and made sure it was on the hour-long stopping point instead of a minute.
"Elizabeth Bennet, you sly chick, you. Are you wearing those clothes you never returned to Darcy boy?" Charlotte said after starting the recording, dropping her phone on the plush bed closest to the door to her adjoined room. Elizabeth looked up at her sharply, face quickly donning a light pink shade, trying in vain to hide the copious amounts of black she was wearing with her slender, tanned arms.
"They're comfortable, for the last time!" Elizabeth snapped, giving Maria a sharp look when she started giggling, causing the younger girl to shrug and head into the bathroom for her shower. Charlotte smirked, raising an eyebrow, taking residence on the bed she'd dropped her phone onto; Elizabeth, wanting fair ground, rose form the floor and got onto the other bed, frowning slightly.
"After today, I have a right to interrogation and to have truthful answers. So, first question: Fitzwilliam Darcy, is he still Mr. Nightmare?" Charlotte asked, meeting Elizabeth's vexed gaze gamely; they had a staring match, which Elizabeth lost, making her look down, blush darkening.
"No, he's not. Bill is, no offense." She said softly, chewing on her lower lip. Charlotte laughed, assuring her friend she took no offense, before plowing on with the questions.
"Okay, if he's not Mr. Nightmare, is he Mr. Just No? Mr. Dreamy? Mr. Friend? Mr. I Want To Ravish—"
"Stop right there, Charlotte! He's… well, the Fitz we met in Texas would be a Mr. Just No because he was such a jack ass – most of the time… but her he is kind of… well, he'd be my leading role of Mr. Dreamy if I could ignore his past." Elizabeth was hesitant to relay her feelings toward Charlotte, since she knew how conniving her friend could be, but she wanted to get all her confusion out. One man couldn't be two different people and be considered legally sane, and she couldn't discern which man he was: Fitz, the charming, friendly bloke he was now, or Darcy, the ass hole? Maybe he was Darcy and just wanted in her pants now, like Caroline said and Wick implied, and Fitz was just his act to lure in innocent girls.
"Lizzie, no offense, but have you actually asked Darcy about his past? I mean, Caroline has plenty of reasons to lie about him to you since she's just a jealous bitch, and Wick… I never met him, but from what Mark said, he sounds pretty slimy, too smooth to be real. And Jane thinks you were drugged that night you went to go see him and Darcy found you—"
"Charlotte! That's it!"
"What's it?" Charlotte asked, cautious since she had a feeling her plan was reversing on her. She knew all of what Elizabeth had been fed and was unsure of what to think entirely of Darcy herself, so she understood Elizabeth's myriad of feelings concerning the man. However, his behavior of late had convinced her Caroline was just spewing lies and Wick, telling the truth or not, didn't know the current Darcy. A person could wise up after seeing the consequences of their misdeeds, and if Wick was telling the truth, Darcy obviously had. Charlotte was sure of that from the way Georgiana venerated her brother that he was a good man at heart.
"He… he had to drug me… Darcy knew where I was… I don't remember much of anything, and…" Elizabeth trailed off, knowing she sounded as ludicrous as she felt. Darcy had no reason to drug her, and if he had, why? He had been totally chivalrous that night according to Jane; plus his actions the next day were innocent and concerned. But that raised the question of who drugged her and why Darcy was protecting them, as Jane had said he wouldn't say anything other than she must've drank too much and passed out from ingesting too much alcohol.
"He's so damn confusing, Char…" Elizabeth whispered in frustration, unknowingly trying to complete a puzzle with the wrong pieces and some missing completely.
"Liz-Biz, he's always going to be confusing – he's a man, and you're a woman. We've never seen eye to eye. I'm sure if you just asked him—"
"I can't just go up and accuse him of being an ex-rapist and what not, Char!" She interrupted Charlotte, face flushed in both anger and embarrassment. Certainly, a good conversation starter was not, "Oh, hey, so-and-so, I heard from so-and-so you used to rape and drug girls for the hell of it. So, um, is that true and all?"
"Hey, we're getting somewhere! Back in the summer, you totally would have if you'd had the chance, and you know it – don't deny it. So, what made you change your mind? Seeing his totally sexy tummy? That gorgeous, dimpled smile that comes around every now and then? Those eyes you drooled over from the start? Oh – maybe it's the change in his hair, the way it's slightly curly now? Tell me – you've got to, babe!" Charlotte crowed, teasing grin growing wider as Elizabeth got redder at every passing word. She didn't expect her friend to retaliate by grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her, nose scrunched up with annoyance.
"Charlotte, you're impossible."
"That's why you love me, sweetie."
"Pah, that's what you think."
"I don't think it; I know it."
Needless to say, when a severely mortified Maria, as she'd heard their whole conversation, came out of the bathroom from her shower, she wasn't surprised to see her older sister and Elizabeth having a wicked pillow fight that she got dragged in to.
- (Crappy break line) -
"Rise and shine, lovelies… well now. Who started a party and didn't invite me?" Richard entered the room Elizabeth and Maria were supposed to be sharing, surprised to see the trio of females surrounded by beaten pillows and a few empty Coke bottles.
"Really, now, that's just rude. Wake up, come on now, lassies." He prodded each one until they were semi-conscious and complaining incoherently before starting to pick up the mess they'd made.
"Ritz, how in the world do you get in here? Maria and I have the card keys…" Elizabeth groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, sitting up. Her back moaned in response, popping in a few places; when Charlotte rose, she was no better.
"That's the thing, Lizzie: you don't. The hotel has an extra key card plus an open-all card. I just bribed Brenda for the card for your room…" Richard said, with a smug air, watching the girls wake up slowly. It was nearly noon, but that didn't seem to register with them.
"When did you lassies pass out?"
"Uuuhh… this morning, sometime. Around three, maybe." Charlotte responded to him this time, stretching her arms over her head; Richard watched her, wondering if she knew how adorable she looked tousled up from sleep, her make-up smeared slightly, hair askew. The fact she was dating Bill was escaping him for a bit when he stared at her bountiful assets, only pulled from his trance when Maria cleared her throat loudly.
"Ah, um, yes… As it's almost the afternoon and Fitz is bedridden, I thought I'd take you lassies out to Central Park for a nice walk and romp in the snow after lunch… how's that sound, eh?" Richard questioned, rubbing the dark stubble adorning his chin, a light flush crossing his cheeks for being caught in his staring.
"Fitz is bedridden? Why?" Elizabeth asked, eyebrows quirking together, a pout forming on her lips. Even though Darcy had been in pretty bad shape when they'd left Rockefeller the previous evening, she thought he'd be up and moving since he'd been so obstinate before about not admitting he was sick. Richard smirked at her, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"If this is any indicator to you, I had to feed his beastly monsters this morning since he wouldn't wake up. If it's not, this should be: he hasn't left bed this morning except to go to the khazi when he actually woke. (1)" He said, for the first time thinking about how well Elizabeth knew his cousin. Darcy had everything about her that he was told and observed down to a t, but Richard wasn't sure if Elizabeth had committed him to her memory like he'd done to her. Her pout deepened as memories flashed in her mind's eye and words were whispered in her ears. Darcy was an early riser and never failed to feed his cats when they started yowling at him.
"Is anyone going to look after him? And what's a khazi?"
Richard started laughing even before Elizabeth finished speaking, trying to envision his independent cousin letting someone tend to him while he was still in denial about being ill. All three women looked at him imploringly, trying to find the humor he found in Elizabeth's questions that he blatantly had.
"Okay, Okay, I'll stop. But after his attitude last night, can you really imagine Fitz letting anyone care for him today? And, um, a khazi is a restroom… I forgot you Yanks don't use the same terms we do." Richard sighed when his laughs had abated, tears of mirth shimmering in the crinkling around his eyes. Charlotte snorted at the image she got, sharing the hilarity; Elizabeth, however, didn't see it in the same way.
"Is he so arrogant he won't let anyone make sure he's okay?" She asked, quite ignorant she actually spoke aloud. A shadow of a frown passed over Richard's face as he tried to figure how Elizabeth perceived Darcy as proud; he assumed it was because of the blank look and blunt statements Darcy usually had and made.
"He's not arrogant, just independent. Fitz has been taking care of himself for years now and doesn't like to show anyone he's not as strong as he makes one believe. I'm actually surprised you got him to go home early last night; generally, he would tough it out until the original time to go home came." Richard explained, hoping to change Elizabeth's thoughts to a positive angle. It wouldn't do Darcy any good if she had negative thoughts about him and thought he held her in contempt still. Elizabeth's face darkened in a contemplative way for a few minutes before she stood up and held her hand out to Richard.
"He needs to be knocked down a few pegs if he thinks that. May I borrow your card key?" She asked, not noticing she was still in the clothes she'd worn the day before and how slapdash she looked; all that was running through her head was her denial over caring for Darcy's wellbeing and getting him to come off his high horse.
"I'm going to go march right in to that room and make him see how stupid he's being." Elizabeth said after Richard placed the card key to his room in her hand, wearing a bemused expression. She turned towards the door and was about to open it when Maria spoke up.
"Hey, Lizzie, you might want to change first."
"… Right after I change."
- (Crappy break line) -
Darcy was nodding off when he heard the door open to his room. He hastily straightened up and grabbed his book form the bedside table, dumping it unceremoniously in to his lap for a cover; his sudden movements made Roland yowl in surprise and jump off the bed, since he'd been sleeping on Darcy's leg, looking miffed.
"Ritz, I told you I just wanted—"
"Shut up, Fitzwilliam Benjamin Darcy, and answer my questions. Have you taken any Tylenol or something yet?"
Darcy just stared, mouth open slightly, a bit stupefied when Elizabeth entered the room, hands on her hips and a drug store bag hanging from her right forearm; she was wearing dark wash jeans, her heavy jacket, mittens, a scarf, and a beanie she'd probably borrowed from someone as it was slipping low over her forehead, close to her eyes. Up until now, she'd never looked so adorable… or as commandeering. Elizabeth sighed, frowning, at his dumbfounded expression; had he really thought, after last night, she'd let him suffer alone? Didn't misery love company? She had to admit, he looked very appealing despite his pale complexion with his hair, some parts curled tightly and others sticking in black cords to his damp skin, clad in a ribbed, white wife beater and dark pants, the duvet pooled about his waist.
"… No, I haven't. I have no reason—"
"You are in need of company, old fart, and medicine. I can hear the rasp in your voice, so I bet your throat is sore. So, shut up and deal with it." Elizabeth interrupted, walking over to the bed he was in and setting her bag down. She took out the contents one by one and set them on the bed by his feet, adding to Darcy's unease; ever since his mother passed away, he'd never let anyone take care of him – Mrs. Reynolds was an exception when she found out when he was sick. Her words from one time when Georgiana was sick echoed in his mind, "You always watch out for Georgie so well when she's sick – why don't you let anyone do the same for you, little Fitz?" Darcy's countenance softened slightly as he watched Elizabeth shrug out of her heavy jacket and another one beneath it, revealing a red sweater, and took off the beanie, scarf, and mittens as well; she deposited them on Richard's vacant bed, save for Daisy, and turned back to him. He refrained form telling her he'd taken some cold pills the night before.
"Are you going to accept my help or will I have to strap you down to that bed and force feed you some meds?" Elizabeth asked, her hands once again resting on her hips, showing him she wasn't above doing exactly what she said. Darcy smirked slightly, trying to imagine the scene she described, finding nothing at all wrong with it; in fact, he almost welcomed it.
"I'm at your mercy, Ellie." Darcy practically purred, causing Elizabeth to go red. He thought she was embarrassed because she was being coy, not because she was actually a bit disturbed because of a plethora of mendacity.
"If you're at my mercy, then you'd better behave, old fart."
"Oh, I will, love."
Elizabeth gave him a look in hope Darcy would stop making passes at her, not totally sure of his intentions; it was making her severely nervous. Upon seeing her anxiety, Darcy immediately grew serious and cleared his throat, appearing somewhat apologetic. He took the little bottle of orange juice from her hand silently, sipping at it offhandedly until Elizabeth opened the bottle of Tylenol she'd gotten and gave him two pills, her fingertips grazing the expanse of his palm.
"Take these and let me feel your forehead." She ordered, a bit hesitant when she walked and stood right next to the head of the bed, in a very easy position to be grabbed. Darcy noticed her edgy disposition a pouted, wondering what was making her so jumpy; he took the pills and let Elizabeth push up his messy bangs to feel his warm forehead.
"You're burning up, old fart. Get some rest, don't do anything today." Elizabeth said, placing a firm hand on his chest and pressing down until Darcy was lying flat on his back. He gave her a curious look and covered her smaller hand with one of his own in attempt to keep it there; Darcy would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy her touching him.
"Do you always do this?" He asked quietly, ignoring the slight tug she gave in attempt to free her hand.
"What?"
"You rushed over once you found out Jane was sick, and now you're here because Ritz talked, aren't you?"
Elizabeth looked away, feeling both the thrumming of his heart and the harshness of his marred hand, wondering if she should lie or not. She didn't want to admit she cared for him to his face, but a good excuse as to why she was looking out for him escaped Elizabeth.
"I… um, well… only for people whom I worry about…" Elizabeth murmured, knowing her extremely outgoing nature when someone whom she cherished was due to her mother. With Faye dancing between hospital visits for most of Elizabeth's younger years, due to her nerves and bearing more daughters, she'd never appreciated hospitals or illness and tried her hardest to reverse them so no one she treasured would leave her again. With her embarrassment prevalent on her face, Elizabeth turned to face Darcy again to see a brilliant smile present on his face, his lips spread just slightly to reveal a splinter of whiteness that was his teeth. She didn't miss the few, quick exhales and slight jerks of his chest and was a bit confounded as to why Darcy was so giddy he was laughing silently.
"You just made my day, love."
"Lizzie-Bell, we're going now! Are you coming or staying?" A few light knocks accompanied Charlotte's voice. Elizabeth's head jerked towards the door, her heart torn; she wanted, dearly, to go play in the snow that had fallen overnight with the others, but she also desired to make sure Darcy got better. Even though her mind told her he would, her heart said he might not and needed her there.
"Go ahead, Ellie – I'll be fine. You just made sure of that. Don't miss out on the fun because of me, alright?" Darcy said, radiant smile still in place, giving her hand a squeeze. Elizabeth's eyebrows knitted together as she considered the option he gave her, not sure if she should go or not.
"Fitz, you better not be trying to make that poor lass become your maid or something for the day, let her have fun while you mope here! I'd come in and drag Lizzie out, but the bloody door is locked."
Richard's voice was accompanied by Charlotte's laughter and Bill's inquiries of her state of health.
"See, Ellie? It's always been this way. Go on and have your… snow day, I guess. Ritz is probably going to take you around town and end it with a snowball fight in Central Park so dress warmly." Darcy spoke softly, brushing the rough pad of his thumb across the smooth back of Elizabeth's hand before releasing it back to her with a soft pat. Elizabeth's expression turned even more melancholy at his words, trying to imagine what he meant by 'always'.
"I'll only go if you promise to call if you need anything, Fitz. I don't like this, not one bit." Elizabeth said firmly, unconsciously taking the hand he'd just released into her unoccupied one, retracing the paths his fingers had burned into her skin.
"I promise." Darcy said with lowered lashes, questioning mentally if Mark had told Elizabeth he'd been given her number. If she knew and didn't mind… well, that was just another positive step. Heart thrashing against his ribs, Darcy watched as Elizabeth donned her outerwear again and left him; of all the times to fall ill, this had to be the worst opportunity to do so. Actually, getting sick around Caroline would've been shoddier as she'd never leave his side.
Charlotte noticed the slightly torn look Elizabeth had when she exited Darcy's room and handed Richard the borrowed card key, not doubting that Elizabeth truly felt something for Darcy. Had she not, Elizabeth wouldn't have reacted the way she had, going to a local CVS and getting him medicine he probably already bought and other things to take when you're not feeling well.
"Come on, Lizzie; he's used to this. Fitz has never announced he was sick and only Mrs. R has ever been able to force him to let her take care of him. It's… easier this way, if you look at it, since he's so headstrong. No use crying over spilt milk or whatever, right?" Richard piped up cheerfully, garnering her reactions for later. Charlotte wrapped her arm around Elizabeth's shoulder, pulling her in lightly for a gentle noogie.
"Sweetie, if you'd rather snuggle with him all day—"
"Shut up! Lead the way, Ritz." Elizabeth snapped, face flushing; Charlotte had hit too close to home for her comfort. However, even under her incensed front and everyone assuring her he was used to this kind of treatment, she couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness at leaving Darcy all to himself. To her, it didn't seem quite right and raised questions as to how long 'always' was.
Throughout the cold day of walking around the big apple's large park and frolicking in the snow she would have never seen so much amassed otherwise, Elizabeth could only concentrate on one thing: Darcy. It was quite unnerving since she was trying to convince herself he didn't matter, that he was just a friend… but then that would mean he did matter and issues as to how much. He'd quickly wormed his way into her affections presenting the physical attributes any sane person who was attracted to men and his conformed disposition; even at his worst, which was the initial car ride to the Rosings hotel they were staying at, Darcy had quickly swapped personas as if it were natural, his own way of going about life. She was obviously missing something of his character but unable to discern what, the confusion making her wary and scared at the same time for the feelings she nursed for him. Darcy wasn't making any sense; Elizabeth herself wasn't, either.
The day after the "Epic Fitz-Free Snow Day", as Richard had dubbed it, Darcy took Elizabeth on her own private tour with him through the moonlight (and New York city lights) that was utterly mind-blowing. The way he acted that night hardly compared to when the day of Lady Catherine's New Years party dawned. Lady Catherine busied herself up in her hotel, ordering around the poor saps that were decorating the ballroom for the special night. Everything had to be perfect or else it wouldn't do. There were important people coming to the party, yes, but, even more importantly to Catherine, all her nephews and nieces were in the same place at the same time. Richard's older brother, Gregory, had come early for one of his business meetings in America and was staying with a group of friends he'd met before under similar grounds; he arrived early to join the party and surprise his brother and his younger cousins. Since Georgiana, Darcy, and Richard were already staying at Rosings, the little quartet was complete. Many people believed her to be a high-handed, obstinate woman who cared only for number one, but, however, they were wrong. Catherine knew she was arrogant, she knew she was stubborn, but she knew she wasn't only looking out for herself.
Okay, mostly for herself, but still.
Catherine did love all her relatives and did care to have them all together at once, not just because they cast such an imposing, aristocratic look when they all gathered. It didn't matter that Richard was a bit of a pyromaniac, Gregory was a bit of an alcoholic, Darcy was a bit of a misanthrope, Georgiana was a bit of a wall flower, Anne was paralyzed from the waist down and even more misanthropic than Darcy, or Catherine was a bit (or quite a bit) materialistic. They were family, and Catherine would be damned if she didn't try her hardest to get the old days of whole maladjusted family gatherings to start up again. In Derbyshire, they had once been famous for their family festivities, but in the past ten years, as the Darcy/Fitzwilliam clan had more elderly people than young, most had been dropping like flies. The string of deaths had, regrettably, started with Benjamin and Anne Darcy.
When seven o'clock rolled round, Catherine was quite sure everything would be perfect; she was very, very wrong, however, on someone else's account. Though, she wasn't very disturbed with why one of her nephews was missing; actually, she was quite pleased he was finally wising up, even if it was for a girl with no background or wealth. Elizabeth had a mouth on her Catherine both admired and despised, as it was rare to find someone who had enough gall to talk back to her… or turn down the most handsome of her nephews. Even though he didn't speak when he came back to the ballroom in inform Catherine he wasn't staying and was perfectly civil, she could tell Darcy was internally seething and berating himself.
- About an hour earlier -
"Lizzie, you must've been spending too much time out with Darcy. Did you guys have a midnight rendezvous or something?" Charlotte asked, pressing her palm to Elizabeth's forehead; it didn't feel exceptionally warm, but she was willing to lie should anyone ask.
"No! What would… no." Elizabeth replied weakly, eyes shifting to the little group consisting of Georgiana, Richard, Maria, and Bill gathered by the door.
"Y'know, my altruist cousin will be down here in a jiffy, lass, once he catches wind of this. He'll think he's to blame and he'll be here, though I think his finely polished armor is back in Pemberley." Richard snorted, already knowing the truth that Elizabeth had, in fact, had a midnight rendezvous with Darcy.
"Altruist, Fitz?" Elizabeth asked, smirking slightly. Except for where Georgiana was concerned (and herself, a few times), he'd never really acted that selfless; he was nice, she'd give him that, but an altruist pushed the limits.
"Yep, a real dyed-in-the-wool kind of bloke. You know Charlie Bingley, right? Fitz just saved him from a worthless relationship." He said, no idea he was digging a grave for his cousin. Richard didn't notice Elizabeth or Charlotte stiffen and glance at each other.
"A worthless relationship?" Elizabeth's voice was quiet to keep her anger from seeping in. Charlotte frowned slightly, placing a comforting hand on her friend's forearm, knowing whatever good opinions Elizabeth had of Darcy were now swiftly going down the drain; whenever Jane was questioned, Elizabeth took it as a personal insult.
"Yes. Something about the girl's integrity was questioned and Fitz made Charlie see the light. Apparently, she wasn't that pretty compared to - oh… terrible sorry, lassies, my mouth diarrhea got ahead of my again." Richard suddenly knew what he was speaking about. The only girl who Darcy spoke about, other than relatives and complaints about Caroline Bingley, was Elizabeth, and Darcy had said the girl who Charlie was mooning over was nothing compared to her sister. That Richard finally noticed Elizabeth's changed countenance added to his hunch.
Elizabeth was tempted, very sorely tempted, to ask Richard to finish what he had been saying but thought better of it; whatever he said wouldn't defend Darcy and would probably only further his disappointment in him. From the trip, she'd more or less assumed Caroline was all to blame for separating Charlie and Jane as he seemed attuned to how people felt; he seemed genuinely self conscious and troubled at the Rockefeller skating rink when he was ill when it concerned how their large party would get home. Obviously, it had to be Darcy's arrogant nature raising its ugly head, making him think Charlie was above a relationship with Jane who was inferior compared to the wealthy woman he could get.
"Don't be afraid to call, Liz-Biz, if you need something – anything. I'll get it for you, hun." Charlotte said, somewhat awkwardly, as a silence had befallen the room. No one outside their trio understood the sudden tension in the air but didn't speak, in fear of offending someone unconsciously, save for Bill who was mentally rehearsing what he'd say to praise all Lady Catherine's guests. With a slight not and a hand squeeze, Charlotte left Elizabeth on the bed and ushered everyone else out, hoping against all hope Darcy wouldn't try to visit Elizabeth since he had the power to be able to do so. She was sadly disheartened when Darcy, upon seeing Elizabeth not present when they entered the ballroom, questioned about her whereabouts.
Darcy, who'd been called up to the ballroom early by his aunt to ask him if he wanted to sit between that girl, her preferred title for Elizabeth, and Georgiana, was surprised to not see her present in the group he originally planned on entering with was missing one impish Texan. Everyone but Bill sketchily replied to Darcy's inquiries, as he was the only one who hadn't perceived the earlier rigidity emanating from Elizabeth. Not five minutes after Bill had stated Elizabeth wasn't feeling her best and was spending her New Year's in her room (which was quite rude, he mentioned), Darcy had obtained the spare key card to her room and was heading down from the third to the second floor to see to her personally. Looking nothing short but his New Year's best, which happened to be a pair of black slacks with a matching long-sleeved button up, a silver tie, and a mostly fruitless attempt to tame his dark curls, he was quite a sight for people braving the stairs, rushing down the one flight with a slight tinge of pink dashed across his cheeks.
Elizabeth was only half-surprised to see Darcy when he entered her room, head ducked slightly to try and hide his flushed disposition.
"I… heard you weren't feeling well?" She had never seen him look so awkward, so real, so frazzled. Darcy's left hand had risen from his side to tangled within the curls dangling form the nape of his neck, accidentally mussing what had once been neat, and his weight shifted from one heel to the other covertly, resulting in a slight swaying movement only noticed if one watched his shoulders and saw the doorway appear and reappear behind them. To his credit, Darcy had never felt more anxious, including the list of memorable firsts he had (like his first kiss, visiting Georgiana on his bike, etc), seeing Elizabeth dressed warmly in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he remembered vividly plus a pair of bright purple fuzzy socks, sitting in the chair by the desk arranged in the hotel room.
"No, not quite well enough to be in the company of others, I'm afraid." Definitely not well enough to see you. Elizabeth was too confused, trying to process the new information presented to her not ten minutes before; on top of her befuddlement, she did get dizzy when she stood up and did feel sick to her stomach.
"Do you need anything?" Darcy asked, immediately thinking of the supply of cold medicine in the bathroom of his room just across the hall and the vending machines by the elevators. When Elizabeth shook her head in the negative, he started pacing, trying to find the right words and regain his shattered confidence. Even though he was nearly thirty years of age and had asked out plenty of women (plenty of women who had more authority and class, according to society), the thought of asking Elizabeth out for dinner was sending his thoughts into turmoil, tidal wave after tidal wave of words assaulting the beaches of his mind. Darcy didn't expect her to refuse him – of course, for a later day so she could get better – but he wasn't sure if Elizabeth would feel comfortable dating him. He was, after all, Fitzwilliam Darcy. If one uttered his name in England, people would turn and look and photographers would scramble for their cameras, and almost the exact same reaction would happen in the parts of America that were concerned with famous British folk or the filthy rich. No one would dare turn down someone of his caliber, or no one had yet.
Elizabeth watched Darcy pace back and forth, watching the array of emotions pass over his face from his slight scowl to knitted eyebrows, wondering what he could be in such indecision about. From what she'd seen, he was always in control, always ready for the expected and unexpected. When he suddenly spoke up, after around five minutes of straight pacing back and forth in front of the door, Elizabeth jumped slightly, having grown used to the silence and not expecting him to break it.
"In vain I have struggled, Elizabeth, and it will not do anymore. I can't go another day – nay, another hour, with out asking you to dinner." Darcy said, facing her completely, looking more like a cadet answering his general with one hand fisted around the other's wrist behind his frightening straight back and squared shoulders. With his eyebrows creating a grim, unforgiving line over his bright gray eyes, Elizabeth wondered if it was a punishment for him rather than a pleasantry.
"What?" She asked, words completely bypassing Darcy's ears as he plowed on, not aware of his exact words but thinking they were the correct ones.
"Even though I met you at a time where I wasn't looking but rather, to be blunt, babysitting, you caught my interest after our initial meeting, if one can call it that, at Charlotte's party. Then, you were completely beneath my radar. Unwillingly, I took a notice of you and started to… fancy you, think about you day and night. Even after I'd met your relatives – your father, intelligent but apathetic and ignorant, your mother, equally as ignorant and quite vexing plus materialistic, and your three younger sisters, all debatably… frivolous in their own way, and Willy… well, you've seen him. At first, I was scared to relate myself to knowing them, and rightly so. However, I've overcome these discrepancies and my own preference in women and have come to… to…" Darcy stopped there, stumbling with the correct words, wondering about his exact feelings. Was it love? Obsession? Favoring? As he was trying to delve deep enough into them, Elizabeth stood up and crossed her arms under her chest, face dark and cloudy for the upcoming storm.
"You know what, Darcy?" Her harsh tone and the use of his last name instead of Fitz garnered Darcy's rapt attention, bewilderment present in his eyes for a fleeting moment.
"I might have considered you, a few days ago, but in light of your so-called confession and what I've been informed of, I consider you the last man on earth I'd like to date – yes, even Willy is in front of you. I'm sure the turmoil you felt before finding yourself in whatever you feel for me now can help you out of it." It took Darcy a few seconds to process Elizabeth's words, trying to cope with the blatant rejection and obvious distaste prevalent in her words, tone, and body language.
"You… you're rejecting me? Might I ask why you see me as such a contemptible person?" His words were bitten out with ire behind bared teeth and taut muscles, but it was just his defensive mechanism to keep his wounded pride intact.
"That's one of the many reasons I wouldn't ever date you, Darcy! You think so highly of yourself, so arrogant and rude… a day never passed with out you looking down your nose at us in Texas, not speaking and acting as offending as you could. I thought maybe, just maybe that was because Caroline was around after Georgie talked to me, but no! This has got to be your true nature, this boorish brute that always gets his way. On top of that, do you really expect me to say I'd love to go to dinner with you after all you've done?" Elizabeth retaliated, her own defenses rising. She stiffened when Darcy took a few long strides toward her in agitation, considerably lessening the distance between them; in retribution, she stepped backwards around the desk, leaving the solid wooden furniture as a physical barrier, apprehension apparent on her face. The only problem was the wall, should Darcy choose to go around the desk, wasn't but a foot behind Elizabeth.
"And can you tell me what I've done, exactly?" Darcy asked, a bit unnerved and saddened by her movement; was she really scared of him? Did he really present himself as the violent type?
"First, your fucking confession – you really took a liking to berating my family and me, didn't you? 'After you'd et my relatives' and then following it up with your shoddy opinions of them – and preferring different women but liking me against you will when you weren't even looking but babysitting – is that how you see Charlie? As someone you need to watch and not as a friend? Speaking of Charlie, you separated him from Jane in the summer and kept them from dating, probably! Why? Because we're not rich enough for him, because Jane can't compare to the vapid, gold-digging whores Charlie could get otherwise? Not only have you done injustice to him, but Ritz and Wick as well!" At that, Elizabeth stopped, seeing the sardonic look blackening Darcy's facial expression. With an obvious restraint, he closed the final distance between them, nearly smothering Elizabeth with the animosity seeping from his person.
"Wick, as in George Wickham? Please, do enlighten me as to what I've done to that bastard and my own bloody cousin." Darcy snarled, pressing his wide palms to the wall around Elizabeth's head in attempt to keep himself from bruising his knuckles and the poor unsuspecting wall. With a bout of confidence stemming from her rebellious nature, Elizabeth snorted and continued.
"If you must know, as if you don't remember, you've treated Ritz with nothing but disrespect in addition to leaving him out, stranded, in the freezing weather with nothing but a light jacket! And what haven't you done to Wick? You rejected him furthering his education and tossed him aside like you do women! You drugged and raped women for pleasure – and are starting up again, I've heard. You also don't own up to your mistakes, even if it costs thousands of people their jobs!" Elizabeth snapped, looking up into his molten mercury eyes, her own rivaling the shade of disturbed earth. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his unsteady breathing ghosting across the panes of her cheeks, see a faint white scar traveling vertically for a few centimeters on his upper lip, see each and every tip of his hair curling upward toward the ceiling, and could, quite possibly, if she felt like it and had enough time to, count every lowered eyelash above and below his calming eyes. Darcy, in return, saw the vision of Elizabeth's slightly parted lips, begging to be brushed by his own, a little ringlet of hair descending behind her right ear, the dusting of freckles that were nearly the same shade of her tan across her nose and cheeks, and that her eyes were not completely on shade of brown but had specks of gold and green doing a tango with a myriad of cinnamon hues.
"Those are very heavy offences indeed…" Suddenly devoid of energy and growing despondent, Darcy ducking his head even closer to Elizabeth's, letting his slightly chapped lips sweep ever so slightly across her cheek and the corner of her lips, finally taking in her rigid posture.
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Miss Elizabeth…" With a final sigh, Darcy was gone, just like that, not too unlike the final winds blowing across the ravaged coastline once a hurricane had past. Elizabeth frowned deeply, crumbling to the floor and drawing her knees to her chest, trembling arms wrapping around them. A trail of tears was soon forged across her face, the salty little troops marching downward under the law of gravity but sent out from the orders of a very confused general.
"Why are you so…" Elizabeth whispered to the world, unfinished sentence hanging in the air like well-worn clothes on a clothesline in a summer breeze, two wavering fingers tracing the path Darcy's lips had grazed yet burned down her skin.
A/N: Beastly in the UK doesn't mean awesome; it means quite the opposite, in fact. :P Just throwing that out there. Sorry about the exceptionally late update… my computer is over heating every half hour or so most of the days, my school tennis team is really picking it up this year, and my History teacher really knows how to load it on for the weekends which is when I usually have enough time to write. Plus, Algebra 2 is kicking my ass long and hard. :| Anyone use absolute value horizontal/vertical stretches and compresses IRL? And sorry for the spelling mistakes I'm sure fill this chapter – to get it out soon, I'm posting it with out reading over it to see if I can catch them.
~ Tobi