Because Bing doesn't know how to do low-key, his day trips and excursions get more frequent and more extravagant the longer the Bennet sisters stay at Netherfield. Sometime around the third week mark, Darcy begins to opt out of the trips by necessity. There's only so much time he can spend away from his computer wandering around the countryside of Sonoma on Bing's ill-planned adventures before emails from work start piling up, after all. Sometimes Lizzie or Caroline elect to stay in, which is nice, but most of the time Lizzie's restlessness and Caroline's ennui force them to tag along. That suits him well enough, too.

The fourth week, Darcy manages to stay in every night until Thursday before Bing addresses his poor attendance.

"I've been busy," Darcy hedges when Bing accosts him in the lounge (while he's working, no less) and points out that he hasn't done anything all week.

"You're on vacation," Bing reminds him. "I mean, you're supposed to be."

"I can't just walk out on my company for months at a time," Darcy says.

"Are you honestly telling me that there's nobody at that company that could do your job for a few days?" Bing asks, sitting down next to him. He sighs and closes his laptop.

"It hasn't just been a few days, though, it's been a few weeks."

"Well, yeah, but they're here, and it seems like such a waste to not use that time to the fullest," Bing says. "Besides, Lizzie is on summer vacation. She doesn't have anything else to do and I can't just let her sit around the house all day, bored. That would be rude."

"I have a feeling she'd somehow manage," Darcy mumbles. Bing shakes his head.

"Well I'm on vacation too," Bing reminds him. "And I can't deal with being bored all day."

"Speaking of which," Darcy says, glad for the transition. "What are your plans for the end of the summer? You can't stay here forever."

"No," Bing agrees thoughtfully. "Well, hopefully, by the time school starts up again Jane and Lizzie's house will be fixed."

"God willing."

"And the rest… I'll figure out."

"The rest?"

"You know," Bing laughs, ruffling his own hair absently. He sits down the arm of the sofa Darcy is sitting on before continuing. "The whole long distance relationship thing."

"Hmm," Darcy says.

"I know keeping up long distance relationships isn't the easiest thing to do," Bing says, as if preemptively anticipating the need to defend himself. Darcy looks back towards his laptop. "But it'll be worth it."

"You've spoken to Jane about this?" Darcy asks.

"Well, no."

"Then perhaps you're creating solutions from problems that don't exist."

"You don't think Jane would be interested…" Bing begins.

"That's not what I said," Darcy interrupts, waving the comment off. Bing fixes him with a curious stare, the looking on his face dangerously close to mild irritation. "All I meant was that you're being hasty in presupposing the future of a relationship you haven't even bothered putting a label on yet," he says. Bing opens his mouth to protest, but falls short. "And Jane might not be interested in a long-distance relationship."

"You don't think she's interested in a commitment?"

"Again, not what I said," Darcy says, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of nose. He wonders briefly why Lizzie tasked him with a job that he is so clearly underqualified for. "And I'm afraid I don't have the answers to your questions. You'd have to talk to Jane about that. I'd recommend it, in fact."

Bing leans his weight back and lets out a slow whistle. "Wow. Darcy's advocating for open communication. What has the world come to?"

"Don't be melodramatic."

"Sorry," Bing says, laughing. Darcy thinks there's some unease in his demeanor, although it would be hard to spot, in Bing. "It's a little uncharacteristic of you."

"I just think it'd be in your best interests if everyone was… on the same page."

Bing sits in merciful silence for awhile while he considers this. "What about you and Lizzie?" he asks after a second.

"Nobody's on the wrong page there," Darcy assures him. "And long distance friendships are much easier to maintain than ill-defined long distance romantic entanglements."

"Uh huh," Bing says, sounding less than convinced. Darcy briefly considers attempting to rebuff the non-remark, but he doesn't get the chance, because Lizzie sticks her head into the room.

"Hey guys," she says, leaning her weight off the doorframe. "Charlotte and I are going to Carter's and Jane wants to tag along, so I thought I'd invite everyone. Do you want to…?"

"Yes," Bing says immediately, throwing Darcy a pointed look as he agrees. Darcy looks to Lizzie, who quirks her eyebrows ever-so-slightly in an inquisitive fashion.

"Sure," he says.

"Great," Bing says, clapping Darcy on the shoulder as he stands up. "It'll be fun. And it'll do you some good to finally get out of the house, man."

Darcy doesn't say anything, but he catches a glimpse of Lizzie where she still stands in the doorway, an amused smirk on her face as she tries not to laugh. He doesn't say anything, but he feels her gaze linger on the back of his neck for a moment before she leaves.

"You know what my favorite part of tonight is?" Lizzie asks Charlotte and Jane the first moment that Darcy and Bing are both away from the table.

"What?" Charlotte asks.

"Only people I like are here."

"Lizzie," Jane scolds.

"Related question," Charlotte says over Jane. "Where is Caroline?"

"She was tired and didn't want to come out tonight," Lizzie says, with a liberal and imprecise smattering of airquotes.

"She had a long day," Jane says, not exactly protective of her new friend but definitely more defensive than Lizzie would like her to be. "Her dad has her looking over some things for clients of his who can't afford to hire tax professionals."

"Okay, okay," Lizzie says, rolling her eyes. "She's tired because she was doing pro bono accountant work for her dad's rich friends. She's a saint."

"Lizzie," Jane says again, quieter and more resigned.

"Second related question: where's Lydia?" Charlotte asks.

"I don't know," Lizzie says. "At my uncle's, probably. I didn't invite her."

"Lizzie."

"She wouldn't have wanted to drive an hour and a half just to hang out with us, Jane," Lizzie says, shrugging her shoulders. Jane clicks her tongue in a pretty mom-like fashion. Lizzie is about to call her out on this, but she doesn't get a chance, because Jane is in full-out scold mode.

"You still should have invited her. We haven't seen her in weeks, you never know. She might have made the trip."

"Alright, fine, I'll invite her next time," Lizzie grumbles, leaning back in her seat.

Because his timing is impeccable, this is the moment that Darcy chooses to return to the table. As he sits down, Lizzie clears her throat in a way she hopes is at least somewhat discreet. Jane and Charlotte take this as their cue to make hasty and not very convincing excuses for themselves to leave the table. They vacate their side of the booth in about five seconds flat, leaving her alone next to a vaguely confused-looking Darcy.

"How's it going?" she asks after a second.

"Fine," he says, narrowing his eyes. She supposes this is because she's not as subtle as she wishes she was.

"Did you get a chance to talk to Bing earlier?" she asks.

"I did," he says. "Although this venue is a little public," he says, glancing towards Bing and Jane, who are playing pinball together. Lizzie shrugs.

"We don't have to be talking about anybody specific," she says. "We could be talking about any two people with a… ill-defined, soon-to-be long distance romantic entanglement."

Darcy is very quiet and very still next to her.

"You heard us?" he asks after a beat.

"I caught the tail end of the conversation," she says, tapping her fingers against her knee nervously. It's hard not to feel a little trapped in the booth seat, with him all there and broad-shouldered and immovable, between her and her only exit. "When are you going back to San Francisco?" she asks after a second.

"I haven't decided yet," he says with less hesitation than before. "I'd intended originally to stay through the beginning of summer."

"Ah, but then you got waylaid by all the wine tasting and horseback riding," she offers. He glances at her side-long and she can't help but feel like she's irritating him somehow.

"Something like that," he agrees.

"What else did Bing say?" she presses.

"You didn't hear when you were eavesdropping?" he asks. She presses her lips together.

"I wasn't eavesdropping," she insists, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just happened to overhear a few things. Accidentally."

"Sure," he says.

"Anyway, I'm just curious. That was the whole point of this," she says, gesturing back and forth between herself and him.

"Honestly? From what little I know of your sister, they seem to be more or less in the same frame of thought about the whole thing," he says, surprisingly forthcoming. She raises her eyebrows.

"But…?" she goads.

"But their unwillingness to attach a label to it makes me wonder if there'd be other further complications in their relationship down the line," he concludes.

"Well that's their bridge to burn when they get there," Lizzie says with a shrug.

"It's also hard for me to push for an openness of communication when Bing seems to think I don't favor one myself," he says, looking right at her. She takes a sharp inhalation of breath on reflex.

"Oh, you and me?" she asks. "We're totally on the same page. We're sympatico."

"That's what I said," Darcy says. She nods and they lapse into silence. While they're not talking, Lizzie turns her attention to first her sister, and then Charlotte. She has to scan the bar a few times before she catches sight of her, partially obscured by the back of a head and slightly oversized suit that she couldn't mistake even from this distance. She makes eye contact with Charlotte, whose lips are pressed together in a controlled smile. Charlotte waves at her.

"Crapmuffins," she swears, slightly louder than under her breath, drawing Darcy's attention and bemusement. For a second, she thinks he is going to ask her what's wrong, but she sees him follow her gaze in her peripheral vision, and feels him stiff up next to her when he sees who's walking towards them.

"What's he doing here?" he asks in a more hushed tone, posture rigid. She rests one of her hands on his forearm and he relaxes momentarily.

"I mean, it's his hometown too, I guess," she whispers as their unexpected visitor draws closer, and then adds louder in the same breath: "Hey, Ricky. What's up?"

"Please," he says as he reaches their table, Charlotte in tow. "It's Mr. Collins."

"What's up, Mr. Collins?" she asks, the flippancy of her tone getting away from her a little. He either misses it or ignores it. Misses it, probably.

"What isn't up?" he rebuffs. Lizzie tosses Darcy a glance, wrinkling her nose as Ricky speaks. Darcy looks back at her, his jaw set awkwardly.

"I don't know," Lizzie concedes.

"It's good to see you again, Miss Bennet," he says, and before Lizzie has time to object to this nomenclature, he continues. "And you, Mr. Darcy. I'm happy to be able to tell you that I saw your aunt just earlier today and she was in the best of health."

"Oh." Darcy says as Ricky shakes his hand, tense as anything again. He shrugs Lizzie's hand off his arm nonchalantly as Ricky rattles off several more status updates on Catherine de Bourgh's health. Lizzie folds her hands in her lap silently. "Good to hear," Darcy finally says, cutting Ricky off mid-sentence. Lizzie suppresses a laugh, which she doesn't think Darcy misses.

"I thought you might be pleased to hear that," Ricky says, all self-congratulation.

"Ricky is in town on business," Charlotte says, raising her eyebrows as she speaks.

"What kind of business?" Lizzie asks in attempts to make polite small talk. Not that that takes much effort on her part, with Ricky.

"I'm afraid that's confidential," he responds after sputtering for a moment. Lizzie wonders what kind of business he could possibly be on that could render him so speechless.

"Oh," Lizzie says, frowning.

"Miss Bennet," he says loudly after a second. "I was terribly sorry to hear about your childhood home," he says. Lizzie tosses Charlotte a dirty look and she shrugs helplessly, mouthing an apology. "If you're finding whatever accommodations you've found for yourself to be substandard I know of several very fine establishments in the area…"

"Oh," Lizzie says, doing her best to be polite and not snappish with him. "I'm actually staying at Netherfield." She gestures towards Darcy for no good reason as she says it.

"Are you indeed?" Ricky asks effusively. He's about to go off on another bender, Lizzie can tell. Apparently Darcy can tell too, because he excuses himself quickly and awkwardly and removes himself from the bar booth and by extension from the conversation. As she listens to Ricky rattle on and on about his job and his boss and his mother, Lizzie makes a note to give Darcy grief later for ditching her.

Once he's around, Ricky is absolutely impossible to get rid of. Even though it's only been four days since his unexpected return in town, Lizzie feels like he's been there for months. Besides the two uninvited house visits he's made to Netherfield, he's also managed to catch them on every single one of their outings. He'd probably pop up behind the corn flakes if she tried to go to the grocery store.

The Monday after he shows up, Caroline ushers her and Darcy out of the house and to Carter's. Probably, Lizzie reflects, because she takes delight in seeing people squirm in discomfort. Bing and Jane are absent because Jane's working late and Bing's been driving her to and from work recently, but Charlotte meets them at the bar, and like clockwork Ricky shows up too. Lizzie wonders if he has them under surveillance or if Caroline is tipping him off. Even though it's fanciful she's leaning towards the latter.

When she feels like she can't take any more of Ricky's never-ending babbling brook of nonsense, she excuses herself to the bar to order a drink.

Unsurprisingly, Ricky follows her.

"Miss Bennet, I was wondering if I could get a word in private?"

"Uhhhh," Lizzie hesitates, leaning against the bar. "If this counts as private, sure."

"This will do," Ricky agrees. Lizzie closes her eyes momentarily, gathering her patience.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Well, you see, I've come to town with a bit of an ulterior motive," Ricky says.

"What's that?" she asks.

"I'd like to offer you a position in my company. We have several very exciting vacancies, and you'd be—"

"Are you trying to give me a job?" Lizzie interrupts.

"Well… yes," he says.

"I haven't graduated yet," she points out. "And I have no practical work experience. But if you need to fill those vacancies I know plenty of people in my department that just graduated and are looking for work."

"Ah…"

"I could give them your number," she suggests.

"Well, you see…" Ricky hedges. "I really meant the offer for you."

"Why me?"

"Catherine de Bourgh…" he begins, and she automatically starts to tune him out, but her attention snaps back like a rubber band. "… looking specifically for vloggers, an area in which you do have practical experience, if I'm not mistaken."

Lizzie's cheeks burn and she folds her arms over her chest.

"Anyway, I would merely reissue the offer to you come next summer, but we're planning on expanding in the coming months, so if you wanted a management position in one of our new offices – Chicago or Ottowa, perhaps – you'd have to come on board now. Really, there's no downside to the arrangement."

She listens silently as she processes this information, the gears in her head whirring at top speed. She bites her cheek as he rambles on, biting back the rejection she'd love to give him.

"Let me get this straight," she says in a carefully calculated meter after a few seconds. "Your boss asked for me specifically?"

"Yes!" Ricky burbles. "Yes, yes. It's an honor," he decides for her. She shakes her head slightly, wondering if it's actually possible that Darcy's aunt is trying to passively aggressively relocate her to Canada for some reason or if she's just being paranoid again. It's hard not to see it that way from where she's standing, though.

"Look, Ricky," she says. "I'm not really looking for employment right now."

"But—"

"If you want to ask me again after I graduate, then we'll talk then. But I'm not interested in throwing away all the time and money I've invested in my graduate degree just for some hypothetically managerial position in Canada."

"But—"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she cuts him off, holding her hand up. Before he has a chance to respond again, she stalks off towards the back of the club with no real destination in mind, half blind with anger and confusion.

After Lizzie and Ricky leave the table, the rest of them disperse fairly quickly. Caroline tries to stick close to Darcy, but he slips away from her and wanders towards the back wall of the bar, watching Lizzie's conversation with Ricky Collins as closely as he dares to. He doesn't seem to be at any risk of being detected by Lizzie, though, because she is focused very intently on her conversation with Ricky.

And then she is very suddenly not focused on it at all. Instead, she's walking right towards him, not looking in the least bit happy. She stops a few paces away from him, tottering haphazardly as she comes to a halt as if she's only just realized he's there. They stand there for several seconds, half-shadowed in the back of the bar, staring at each other silently. She almost looks like she's about to start crying. He shuffles a few steps closer towards her, wondering if he should do or say something to comfort her.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she asks, almost too low for him to hear.

He nods without protesting, his fingers closing around his car keys in his pocket as he begins to move for the exit. She catches his arm.

"Not back to Netherfield," she says. There's a little more of her usual levity in her tone as she continues. "They can find us at Netherfield."

"There's nowhere else to go," he says, not sure what she's getting at and hesitant to agree to go wherever she wants. Knowing her, he feels like that'd be a good way to guarantee ending up on some children's play structure in the middle of the night.

"Let's get out of here," she repeats. "Like, out of town. Let's… I don't know. Do you want to go to San Francisco?"

Darcy's never been one for impulsive spur-of-the-moment decisions, but he's got to admit that that sounds like one of the best ideas he's ever heard.