A/N: Hello, dearest readers. I'm updating!!! And guess what? It hasn't even been 10 days since you got Chapter 8!!! Granted, Chapter 9 is very short and rather uneventful, but it is an update, no??? Thanks so much for your lovely reviews; you know how much they mean to me. You guys have been performing so well on the whole review-front, lately! You put ginormous smiles on my face that drove me to update uber-quick (ten days. ten days!), even if all I had time for was 1,500 words. So thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope that you enjoy the craaaazy Bennet clan.

Chapter 9 - Liar, Liar, George on Fire (cuz he's hot w/ 2 t's!!!!)

My parents' names are Bettie and Benjamin Bennet.

In case you are wondering, yes, we are all fully aware of the ridiculousness of this unfortunate situation.

However, a bit of bad luck and a bit more bad judgment on the part of my grandparents stuck my poor caretakers with the names. The situation is unavoidable—the only nicknames for Benjamin are Ben and Bennie, which are both much worse, and my mother's full name is Bettie.

To save at least a little bit of their dignity, my father tried to convince my mother to keep her maiden name when they were married. But my mother wouldn't have it. Born Bettie Gonzaretti, she claimed that alliteration was better than rhyming any day.

So Bettie and Benjamin Bennet they became.

They vowed keep the letter "B" far away from the names of their poor children. But when my paternal grandmother Elizabeth died on the day of my birth, my father was resolute that he would name his child after his mother. My mother was horrified—Betsy, Beth, Bettie, Bessie—and only agreed to the name with the stipulation that I would always be called "Ellie". Lizzy was too close to Elizabeth, and she feared that "Lizzy" would bring along "Lizbeth", which could lead, maybe, to "Beth".

When I was five, my father lost all semblance of respect for my mother and started calling me "Bessie", just to spite her. To spite him back, she began calling him "Bennie".

The reason I tell you this is that it is crucial towards understanding the interaction with my parents when I got off the plane.

"Bessie!" my father called, walking eagerly forward to hug me.

"Bennie," my mother cautioned, her voice low and supposedly intimidating as she embraced Jane. Eighteen years had not softened the blow of hearing her ridiculous husband call her poor daughter "Bessie".

"Bettie," my father responded, jokingly.

"Bennie, Bettie, and Bessie Bennet. What all of these people must think. Oh, somebody shoot me!" proclaimed Bettie dramatically, her shrill voice making everybody look up from their Meryton Gazette.

"Gladly," muttered Mary under her breath.

"Mummy, May-May just said that she would be happy to shoot you," Lydia chimed in with her annoyingly-fake voice, blowing a large pink bubble which popped and got in her almost-white, bleached-blonde hair.

"Mary Cecilia Bennet! How dare you say something like that? No respect for the mother that raised you, loved you, put clothes on your back and food on your—"

"My darling wife, may I take this opportunity to remind you that you still have not properly greeted your two precious daughters?"

It was going to be a long week.

"And who is this young man?" my Mom asked when she noticed that George was standing awkwardly to the side. "Isn't he handsome? Is this Charles, Janey?"

Jane looked down. I ached to go and give her a hug, but wisely stayed where I was.

"No actually, Ma'am, I'm George Wickham, Elizabeth's beau. Pleased to meet you," he said, his looks and accent melting my mother's heart. And mine, too, a bit, I suppose, although I still was having my reservations about him because of what Darcy had said.

"My Ellie-Belly brought a boy home to meet me! Finally! Well it's about time! And a handsome one, too!"

George laughed good-naturedly. I was glad—he seemed to be handling my mother very well indeed. Not many could claim such a thing.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Mrs. Bennet," he said smoothly.

"Oh, I'm Bettie to you, George."

"Elle-Elle, you picked good!" Lydia said to me, too loudly, her habit of repeating the first syllable of a person's name already grating on my nerves.

"Yeah, Elle-Elle, he's hot with two T's. He's like, on fire. I soooo approve," Katie said. She had adopted Lydia's system of naming acquaintances, but it always sounded awkward on her tongue, instead of just plain annoying like it was with Liddy.

"Joe-Joe, you just have to let me show you my Sissy's baby pics!" Lydia said to George, shoving her D-cups in his face. "It's tradition with all of her guys. Though I suppose when she wants to get hitched we'll have to stop, cuz it always scares them off! LOL!"

Ick. Another annoying habit of Lydia's—speaking like she was texting someone. I suppose that she was so often doing both at the same time, they blended together in her mind.

George looked mildly shocked. But not as shocked, I thought, as he should have been, which I suppose had something to do with her gigantic breasts. I tried to imagine Darcy's face if he was in George's position and laughed out loud. Jane looked at me curiously.

"How's my Bessie been?" my father asked me quietly, looking at the circles under my eyes with worry.

"Fine," I responded.

"Just fine?" he questioned.

"Yes. Only fine," I said. "Nothing more or less."

"Well we'll have to remedy that, my dear, won't we?"

It was as we were picking up our bags, getting ready to make our way to the car, that it happened.

"Jay-Jay, I haven't hugged you yet," Lydia said. Jane embraced Lydia for two second before—

" JAY-JAY! Are you KNOCKED UP??? OH. EM. GEE."

"Of course she's not, Liddy," my Mom whispered, making her voice about as loud as a normal person's when they were talking regularly. "I told you, she's faking it so that Charlie will hurry up and marry her."

"What?" Jane said, completely bewildered.

"They won't tell Charles, dear. You can be open with your family. And can I just say, Janey dearest, that you are absolutely brilliant. I didn't think that you had it in you, but I guess—"

"Mother, I am not fa—"

"Sweetheart, I obviously understand why you had to keep cover when you and Charles called to tell me the good news, but kindly drop the charade around me. You already know that I approve."

"Jay-Jay! Sweet move! You're a clever thang! Mom's right, I didn't think you were up to it. Guess I was wrong! And Elle-Elle, snagging Joe-Joe! Jeez, my sissies are waaaaay cooler than I thought! I might, like, stop denying that I'm related to you guys!"

It was stupid. It really, really was. But my head was being ambushed. Apparently, Darcy had controlled me for so long, he had found a way to control my thoughts, too. It was really starting to grate on me.

George offered to carry my luggage. He knew that you'd say no. Look at him—he wouldn't be able to carry both yours and his.

George put his hand on the small of my back as we walked. Possessive. Not in a good way.

George smooth-talked my mother. He's clearly putting on a very good show—nobody takes in Bettie Bennet that smoothly. If he's that good at acting, I wonder what else…

George opened my car door. Yay for George! Insta-brownie-points, and all he had to do is reach out, exert the tiniest bit of force, and pull back. I hope the poor baby didn't hurt his arm!

George smiled at me in the car. Fake. Didn't reach his eyes.

George initiated conversation with Lydia. Clever move. Bonus points for being interested in my family and he can look at her pretty face! And maybe he can even sneak a glance at her D-cups.

George whispered into my ear that he loved me.

Liar.