OOOOOOOOok, so catching up to the news, I have officially decided that you people are the coolest people to ever walk the planet. I'm serious, I've never had this much support for a story from friends I see on a daily basis who read my stuff! You guys really make me enjoy writing this stuff, and without further adeau, I bring you Jane's small adventure and near heart attack! Oh, you were so hoping for Lizzie's reaction weren't you!?!? Keep reading, you might get it!

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Jane walked through the crowded shopping district of Manhattan on a bad day. The streets were overloaded with rich, poor, thieves, brigands, snooty, humble, and jostling people at 7:30 in the evening. The air was nippy and hinted frost covering everything, and soon. Jane took a deep, crisp breath of fresh air, and looked over at a jewelry store for something to get Lizzie. She knew Lizzie would love a new necklace to go with a black and white party that was coming up soon, and knew the exact place in Manhattan to get it.

Stepping lightly, she managed to get over to the other side of the street without getting run over. Jane smiled as she saw a small group of little children being herded by a smiling man and woman, and her heart panged as the lady called out in mock anger, "Oh, stop it Charlie!" Of course, it wasn't Charles Bingley, but it still managed to make Jane want to sink down into the sewer and drown. A small girl ran around her, and accidentally tripped over her purse that had dropped onto the ground unexpectedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry miss, please forgive me?" The little girl exclaimed as her mother scolded her gently.

"No, no… it's quite alright, here, would you like a sucker?" Jane said plastering on a fake smile as she handed a sucker out to the little girl. Grinning, she took it gladly, and thanked Jane roundly with a hug.

"I'm really sorry!" The lady exclaimed as she reeled her child in. Smiling, Jane was about to reassure the girl's mother, but she saw something that made her stop in her tracks, an imaginary fist in her mouth. Charlie Bingley was walking towards her as he was talking at a fast pace with his sister, Caroline. There was a big smile on his face (she didn't realize it was a fake one) and he was laughing. Jane also didn't realize that his laughter was too loud, almost as if it was a forced kind. There were a lot of bags in his hands, and he kept turning back to Caroline, who was falling behind her energetic brother.

Something sucker punched Jane in the gut, and she involuntarily winced. Instinct told her to run, but she couldn't get her muscles to move at her command. It seemed as if all she could see was his smiling face. Jane took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and started to walk off quickly when the little girl ran in front of him.

"Hello mister, do you have any candy like this lady does? She gave me a lollypop!" The girl gushed as she held up a sucker stuck to her palm. Charlie stopped talking and bent down, a large smile on his face. Jane didn't notice that the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have any candy. Maybe I should go and buy some?" He suggested as he tickled the girl's tummy affectionately. Her mother was too shocked at her daughter's audacity to rush forward and scold her roundly. Jane still stood rooted onto the spot. Caroline glared at her brother, and looked around her in disgust. Her gaze froze when she saw Jane.

"This lady had candy." The girl stated firmly, pointing right at Jane. Jane sucked in breath, prepared to run, when Charlie looked up with a grin. His smile faltered when their gazes locked, and he stood up quickly. Caroline was glaring at her, her eyes glinting daggers at Jane.

"Jane…" Charlie mused thoughtfully, suddenly nervous. He seemed like if he said anything else, she would blow away. Caroline rolled her eyes, and walked off, muttering something about having the limo pulled up. Charlie stood stock still.

"Charles Bingley. Pleasure to see you." Jane said in an offhand voice, a cold air taking over. She had never felt such emotions before, and it worried her slightly. Usually, when she saw old boyfriends, she could be polite and kind, but for some reason, she couldn't be nice seeing him look so annoyed at seeing her. She had never felt so humiliated in her life.

"Yes… yes, quite a pleasure…" Charlie muttered as he mimicked Will Darcy, and ran a hand through his hair. Jane and he stood still for a moment, both unable to look away from each other. Neither noticed the girl walking away with her hand clasped firmly in her mother's.

Jane wanted to understand him, and laugh with him, and love him again, but she thought he hated her. Charlie wanted to take her back, hold her, whisper words of love, and never leave her, but he thought she hated him. Both took on airs of indifference, and giving polite nods, walked off. Charlie was silent, and turned back to say something, but saw her walking away, her back straight. He turned and plunged into a crowd of people to get to his limo, and didn't see when Jane turned and stared at his back, pain clear in her eyes.

Amazing how people think so many things, but never think to actually say them.

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Light dawned bright and early in the penthouse in NYC. Light filtered through the windows, and right into Lizzie's face. With a groan, she felt the unmistakable affects of a hangover cloud her mind. A hammer slammed repeatedly against her head, and caused her to keep her eyes screwed shut to block out some of the pain. Her throat was dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. She wanted to say a word, any word. Ok, let's see a word, um, let's try "hello," shall we? That sounds simple, ok, one, two, three…

"Nyaa?" said her treacherous lips. Ok, that was no good. Good god, where am I, and how did I get here? With a wince, she cracked open one eye, and then another. Her headache proceeded to pound as she tilted her head up, and a wave of nausea rolled over her. Ok, sitting up is no good either. Let's try rolling over. With a groan, Lizzie rolled over, and smelt a sharp smell of peppermint and soap. It was a nice smell, but she couldn't identify where she had smelled such a concoction before.

Opening her eyes wider, she saw that she had rolled into a jacket, which was why it had smelled so nice. But whose jacket was it? What had happened yesterday? Where the hell was she? Lizzie found (much to her horror, and panic) that she didn't remember anything apart from going to a party the night before. Everything after that was like a blank slate; she couldn't remember a thing.

"Are you awake?" Asked a clipped, but soft voice. Obviously British. It was soft, but calculating, and it didn't hurt her head like Lizzie assumed any noise would. Pressing her fists against her eyes, Lizzie managed to sit up without feeling sick to her stomach.

"I hope you're alright, you drank a lot last night." Came the precious voice. Lizzie liked that voice; she thought she could listen to it all day without complaint. Of course, sleep left her groggy, so when she was able to remove her hands, she jumped in shock and surprise, and gave an astonished, "Holy shit!" as she fell off of the couch. When she managed to pull herself up, she didn't shriek again like her mind told her to when she saw William Darcy standing right above her with two mugs of coffee. She was too tired to complain when he sat down next to her, handing her a mug while he did so. Lizzie drank to try and wake up.

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Will sat there and couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her hair was barely messed up, and the only thing to be said was that right underneath her eyes were dark circles from lack of sleep. If anything, it made her more human, but more beautiful at the same time. She was sitting there dumbly, and sipping her coffee slowly; it was hot. Will was slightly apprehensive when he heard her attempt at speech; he thought she was going to start screaming. He was happy to see that she wasn't over reacting.

"You couldn't remember the directions to your house, so I thought it would be better for you to stay here, instead of some random place where you could have gotten hurt." Now it was the time to talk. He had to reassure her before the caffeine kicked in.

"What a gentleman." She commented softly as she took another sip, her eyes wide as she tried to wake up. Will didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. Will decided to ignore her statement altogether.

"I'm sure your head is in a lot of pain, so I brought this." He said hastily, handing her two small painkillers. Lizzie took them dumbly, and downed them with the rest of her coffee. Setting the glass down, she then turned and looked at Will for the first time. It was then that she snapped.

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"Oh please tell me that we didn't… oh dear god, Darcy, tell me that we didn't… and how did I get drunk? Why were you there? How did we get here? Please tell me… that we… oh dear god… why can't I remember anything?" She groaned the last part, sinking down into the couch, putting her head in her hands. Lizzie had stood up when the torrent had begun. Now, she was trying desperately to remember what she had done the night before. Will's color quickly left his face, and he choked on his voice.

"I assure you Elizabeth, t-that we didn't do w-what you thi-think we- we didn't do anything! I promise you that nothing happened!" He stuttered as he downed his coffee to sooth his suddenly dry throat. "Can't you remember anything?" He asked hopefully, praying that he didn't have to explain anything.

Lizzie was silent as she tried to remember. It was making her dizzy, trying to remember, but just the thought that something might have happened between them; it made her shudder. Her mind was working overtime, but she still could only come up with the sharp smell of peppermint and soap.

"No, I can't remember anything. How did I get so drunk?" She asked as she accepted another cup of coffee. Will had been awake for a couple hours now, and was willing to give it up. (AN- isn't he so sweet?!?!)

"We got locked in a closet. You ended up getting pretty damn slammed. I helped you home, but you didn't know where your home was, so I ended up taking you here so you didn't get hurt." He said hurriedly, trying to say the first part like being trapped in a closet was totally average, and happened all of the time. Lizzie's eyes widened with each word, and when she looked down, she saw that she was still in her dress, and even her high heels. Will's jacket was still half on her, and half off.

"Wow… well, thanks… I guess." She mumbled, embarrassed. She had never gotten so drunk that she hadn't remembered anything before, and made a vow to herself that only two drinks were allowed after this mess. She felt awkward that she was imposing on him like that, and making him obviously annoyed that she was there.

"No, please, Liz, it wasn't a problem at all. Don't think that you were a problem, it was perfectly fine. I was taking a day off today anyway!" He exclaimed as he saw the look of an awkward moment on her face.

"Oh, um thanks though, you didn't have to do that." She said with a laugh as she downed the rest of the coffee, and set that one down. Now that her usual personality was coming on, she wasn't going to keep an awkward moment going. She was still slightly surprised that Will was being so nice though. It was a nice surprise though, and she didn't mind. Even though it contradicted everything that she had ever thought of him.

But I did have to do that, He thought guiltily as he blurted out, "It wasn't a problem at all! You weren't imposing on anything, would you like some breakfast?" Will had tacked on the last part randomly, trying to lighten the mood. It worked. Lizzie's smile widened and she nodded (and then grabbed her head in pain) when she shook it too hard. Grinning at the small victory, Will helped her up, and led the way to the kitchen that held the breakfast food, and Lizzie saw that he had already begun cooking the food; the bacon, eggs, and pancakes simmering in light oil.

What an interesting change… Lizzie mused lightly as she was set down on a bar stool to watch him cook with simplified ease. The uptight, all business, proud, stuffy, rich man was… cooking? What man in his right mind would cook food when they could afford a maid to cook it for them in their penthouse that they went to maybe once a year? Apparently, Darcy did! Still, it was better than Lizzie waking up in a bed with some stranger who went by the name of "big boy" in some rusted up hotel. Much better.

"So, the great Will Darcy cooks?" She asked as she realized she wasn't being polite in simply thinking about the difference with him. Will glanced up sharply at her tone, but his features softened when he saw a wry smile lighting her features.

"And always jumping to the offense when he hears something unexpected." She mused as she picked up the crystal salt shaker with a raised eyebrow. Will was simply looking at her in shock that someone with a hangover could actually crack jokes, especially when she had drunk so much the night before.

"I simply thought-"

"Oh, that's dangerous to do Darcy; don't you need a brain for that?" She teased lightly with a bright smile. Her head twanged sharply at her muscles contorting into something other than pain, and her smile dropped to a frown.

"I have a brain, thank you for that comment." He snapped as he turned back and flipped the pancakes expertly.

"Are you always so perfect in everything you do?" Lizzie asked after a couple of minutes of watching him flip the food without missing a beat.

"No, why do you ask?" He inquired with a furrowed brow as he worked to impress.

"Oh yes, you told me about your temper…" She remembered thoughtfully as she shook out some salt, and tasted the sharp particles to see what would happen. With a snort, she then sneezed loudly, thinking dully that only pepper should do that. Of course, salt was a disgusting thing to eat, it greases your arteries with fat so your blood can't circulate… she thought as she tried to scrape the nasty taste off of her tongue. At that time, Will turned around with a plate of eggs, and he couldn't help but laugh right out at her wincing from her headache, but clawing at her tongue like a maniac.

"Having trouble with something?" He teased as he set down the plate, and turned back to save the bacon from burning.

"No, thank you so much for the rescue though." She snapped playfully as she pushed the salt as far away from her as possible. Rolling her eyes at her own idiocy, she vowed never to like salt as long as her stupid hangover lasted. (AN- She's acting weird because of her hangover, I got the tips from my cousin when she came to our house around 4:00 in the morning…)

"I assure you, Lizzie, that you're someone who would like to do her own rescuing, and probably wouldn't appreciate someone else coming along to steal your thunder." Will responded as he set the pancakes and the bacon down.

"Do you have peanut butter?" Lizzie asked, dodging the sudden feeling in the pit of her stomach at his words. Did she really come off as someone who was too independent for anyone's help? She sure hoped not.

"Why would you need peanut butter?" Will asked incredulously as he pulled out a small thing of it out of a cupboard.

"It goes good on pancakes." She said simply as she slathered it on with exuberance. (AN- you should try it sometime, it tastes REALLY good…) Will raised an eyebrow at this, but simply added butter and syrup to his food. He watched with slight amusement as Lizzie took a taste of his food, caution in her eyes.

"I haven't poisoned it!" He teased with a laugh as she took a bite.

"It's really good." She gave in after swallowing it down with milk. Her eyes sparkled at an unsaid sarcastic comment, but she didn't elaborate her thoughts to a curious Will.

"Well, I am good at everything." He joked as he watched her intensely. She stopped eating to look at him with surprise; eyes wide in thought and wonder. She was more surprised at the fact that he was… teasing her. Will Darcy, multi-millionaire guru was… teasing her!? It was something that boggled her, and she couldn't figure what was going on with him.

"What's with the change Darcy?" Lizzie asked when she couldn't think of anything to say. Will raised an eyebrow, and simply took a small drink of his Orange Juice.

"I've been the same man the whole time. Maybe it's you who's changed?" He asked with hint of amusement playing at his features. Lizzie was once again taken aback by his smile that lit up his whole face, and dazzled her slightly.

"No, I'm still Lizzie, just hung-over. Seriously though, you aren't so angry at the world like you were when you were in Brooklyn. What happened to that?" She asked with caution, not wanting to ruin the sudden ease that he brought to her. Will didn't respond to that, but merely took his empty plate, and washed it in the sink. Lizzie looked down at her food and saw that her plate was clear of anything as well.

"I was in company that doesn't agree well with me." He said quietly, hinting something that set Lizzie into annoyance in a sudden moment.

"Company like who?" She demanded as she walked to the sink with her plate. Will was surprised at her sudden hostility, and went into defense mode.

"Well, they're not exactly posh or anything." He said his voice dangerously quiet. Lizzie raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the night that they had danced. Her sister's performance, her father's interruption that was just as bad. It didn't help when she heard her mother shrieking to the world about Jane and Charlie. It was even worse that the next morning, he was on a stupid plane back to England! Was it because of her mother that it was ruined?

"But they're not savages! I am one of them, if you actually don't remember! Insulting them is not something that's smart!" She finally defended her family, temper flaring.

"It's not what I'm used to!" He raised his voice slightly. Lizzie cocked an eyebrow, and flared back, "Then I'm so sorry that they're human. I'm sorry that they make mistakes!"

Turning around, she saw that the door to the exit was right at the end of the hallway. She knew that though her headache hurt like someone had mugged her brutally, she had to get out of the stupid penthouse before she really lost it.

"Thanks for helping me so much, Mr. Darcy." She spat sarcastically, her voice dripping in false gratitude. "But I'm afraid I need to go. Have a nice time in your 'posh' society."

Will turned back to snap something at her, but found that she was already down the hall, and opening the door. She didn't turn around to see if he was going to stop her, and she didn't shut the door behind her. She kept walking until she reached the elevator, where it opened, and she stomped into the contraption where she stabbed the lobby floor button with gusto. It was then that her eyes flickered up to his with anger, and he stared right at her until the doors slid shut silently, and bore her away.

"Damn…" He muttered as he walked down the hall and slammed the door shut. Walking slowly back down the hall, he saw that she had accidentally left a small ribbon that he had noticed that had been tied around her wrist. It lay desolate and slumped near his jacket that had hint of lavender and amber, her light scent mixing with his.

"Of course." He muttered as he picked it up, the satin ribbon slipping through his fingers as he traced the small lines where the threads pulled together. With a curse, he set down on the couch, and counted slowly to ten.

"I always say things that upset her." He grumbled angrily to the TV that set against the wall, its black screen not lightening his mood whatsoever. Groaning in self pity in his own stupidity, he leaned back on the couch where she had slept.

"It's not like she's worth my time." He snapped as he tried to push her out of his mind. He let the ribbon slip through his fingers, and fall onto his shirt where it lay there, the light making it shine slightly. Picking up a book from his small table near the couch, he picked up at a random spot.

And oh the breath of the summer maiden

The smiling lips of thine temptress fair

Skin smooth as satin

Eyes bright as the sun

Let me remember thine maiden

As love has let me begun

But boast no more of seduction

Boast no more of my love

I can't eat

I can't sleep

I can't live a true life

Without thine loving

Thine tempting

Thine angelic copy of the fairies above

I can't be real

I can't know life without her

So let me go about my existence

Forget her from my mind

To sleep

But dear god, not to dream.

Will slammed the book shut with a thick thud as he slammed it down onto the coffee table with annoyance. He couldn't even forget the girl in a damned book! If only he could find something to get his mind off of her, her fiery temper when he made a mistake. What book was that anyway? Picking it up, he saw that it was a book that had been copywrited but someone else had tried to make it their own. Now, his client was suing.

"Rubbish." He muttered as he turned over the stupid book, and turned on the TV. He turned it to a boring debate channel, where they discussed the war in Iraq with exuberance. Still, it would not do. So, Will did the only thing a man in his position could do. Leaning down, he grabbed his blanket from the floor, and turned over, wrapping himself up in it.

"To sleep," He mused lightly as he cursed the girl he loved to hate, "But dear god, not to dream…"

Not that he cared or anything.

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Ok, so I so made up that lame little poem thingy that he read. Meh, I think it's terribly lame… but that's just me. Thanks for the reviews, I really do appreciate all of this help you guys have given me! Especially those who have given criticism! It helps me to try to better my bloody story! All you others though, if there's nothing to complain about, then by all means, don't complain, but if there's something to work on, please, let me know! You keep me running!