This one kind of took on a life of its own. It's tempting me to write more Caroline fic. ;)
A year ago, her life had been almost perfect.
Her career, her social circle, her lifestyle – everything was exactly as she wanted it. Well, there were a few things she would change. Bing could learn to be just a little less gullible, and a little less prone to fall for every other girl with a pretty face. And Darcy could be just a little more prone to sentimentality. Not that she wanted him to start writing her love poems; that would be ludicrous. She only wished he would do something to acknowledge that there was something unique between them – romance, for lack of a better word, though it was absolutely nothing like the fluffy bunnies and rainbows that characterized Bing's cavity-inducing relationships.
She and Darcy were a team; there was no denying that. A united front of skepticism and sanity against Bing's head-in-the-clouds optimism. Between the two of them, they kept her brother from plunging into disaster again and again. They traded sarcastic quips, observed life's absurdities with the same world-weary attitude, and commiserated in solidarity whenever Bing roped them into doing something far beneath their social sphere.
The wedding was the beginning of the end. She hadn't known it then. At the time she was feeling quite cheerful, though of course her time would have been far better spent in L.A. She had managed to get Darcy to join them in Nowheresville, California, and their shared disgust of the gaucheness of small towns was very gratifying. She could almost believe she was making some progress in whatever constituted their relationship.
And then the Bennet family came rampaging into their lives and ruined everything.
She didn't blame Jane; she was a nice enough girl. Terrible for Bing, though. He needed someone to push him, motivate him, keep him on the fast track in his medical career. Jane would just smile sweetly and say, "Whatever you like, dear." And her dead-end job, her lower middle-class status, would do absolutely nothing to bolster Bing's prestige. She might even pull him down with her. Clearly, they would both be happier with someone of their own station.
She didn't blame the mother or the wild little sister either, not entirely. Of course they were horrible, but what else could you expect from small town nobodies? The mother was obsessed with money and marriage and no one had ever taught her to be discreet about such things, or about anything at all for that matter. The little sister was an embarrassment to the very concept of feminine dignity, but she had no motivation to directly sabotage the Lees' comfortable social sphere. She would graduate with her pseudo-degree from a shoddy community college and probably spend the rest of her life as an empty-headed barmaid. She didn't blame Lydia.
She blamed Lizzie Bennet.
In truth, Lizzie might have fit well into her social circle, if only she had come from the right family. She was clever and witty and had an enviable gift for skewering the inanities of silly people. But she did not come from the right family, and therefore had a total lack of decorum and respect for class distinction. She purchased clothing at the local mall and wasn't even ashamed of it. She not only had no interest in buying organic, she actually mocked those who did, as if she believed it made her in some way superior. She was positively brazen.
It would have been bad enough that Lizzie pushed Jane to pursue Bing, making it harder and harder to convince her brother than Jane wasn't that interested. Bing and Jane together was a problem. But Lizzie and Darcy? That was catastrophic.
Darcy, falling for Lizzie. It seemed to defy the very laws of reality. And yet she watched, helpless, as he drifted deeper and deeper into Lizzie's spell. It was all the more maddening that Lizzie was completely oblivious to it, even antagonistic toward him. Well, she could use that to her advantage.
For a while, it seemed like she had everything back under control. Lizzie hated Darcy, and Darcy had too many reservations – highly justifiable reservations – to do anything to actively pursue her. The Jane problem seemed to be resolved as well, once she had convinced Darcy of Jane's indifference. They picked up and left Netherfield, and Bing was safe from Jane. Darcy, she assumed, was also safe from Lizzie.
No such luck.
After Darcy's confession – just how deep had Lizzie gotten her claws into him, to lead him to make such a humiliating display? – things began unraveling with alarming speed. She tried to gain back some control by flying in to Hunsford and probing around for whatever Darcy had said in that letter, but Lizzie wasn't buying it.
Worse, she knew that Darcy was watching the videos now. No surprise that he had become curt and distant toward her – civil, but far removed from their former relationship. She sensed that Bing was slipping away from her as well, even though the danger with Jane was long past. He used to be talkative and full of energy. Now he would lapse into long periods of silence, and he evaded even easy questions like how his latest classes were going.
She didn't want to watch Lizzie's videos. Every one she watched was like a twisting knife in her stomach. Still, she forced herself through them. She needed to know what Lizzie was up to. Once Lizzie readjusted her worldview to the idea that Darcy liked her, it was plain that she had decided to use that to her advantage. She would welcome his attentions, even encourage them. Of course she would. Anyone who spurned the attentions of an influential, powerful man like Darcy was a fool. Lizzie Bennet was no fool.
Lizzie played ignorant about her placement at Pemberley, but that was ridiculous. She couldn't have known Darcy all this time and missed the very name of the company he ran. She chose it deliberately. How convenient to start a shadowing there, so she might casually run into him in the hallways, ask for help in her project, schedule a few private interviews. A brush of the wrist, a caress of his shoulder – oh, Lizzie Bennet was good at this. It would have even been admirable if it didn't fly in the face of everything she wanted for Darcy, everything he ought to have.
Lizzie was well on her way to success when her little sister's disaster brought her home.
But Lizzie had succeeded, and she had no idea how much. Darcy risked his reputation, his very position at Pemberley, chasing down a tawdry distributor. All for Lizzie Bennet. What had she done to him? How far he had fallen!
And that wasn't enough for Lizzie, oh no. She just had to mention Bing in her videos, didn't she? She just had to leave him alone with Jane, not once but twice. And that was all it took for her brother to throw away all his plans, abandon med school for good and run off to the other side of the country.
If he had talked to his sister instead, she could have set everything right. She could have explained that he was just going through a slump, a quarter-life crisis. He needed to grit his teeth and work through it, and then his doubts would dissipate and he would earn his medical degree and embark on a stellar career path. Now he was going nowhere. Except three thousand miles away from her.
She fumed and steamed, but had at least some consolation in the fact that Darcy seemed to have ceased his attentions toward Lizzie. All of that changed when Lizzie began planting lures in her videos. Tension? Heat? Chemistry? Oh, very clever, pretending ignorance, letting her sycophantic friend bring it up instead. Darcy would be showing up at her doorstep in seconds.
She booked a plane ticket immediately.
After her less-than-satisfactory confrontation with Lizzie, she willed herself not to watch the videos. Either Darcy would see through Lizzie's ploys or he wouldn't. It was all in his hands now.
She avoided the videos because deep down, she knew he wouldn't. Worse, she knew they weren't ploys at all.
It was easier to stay in denial, but Gigi ruined it in the end. Sweet, naïve Gigi, who still clung to her belief in romance even after her own terrible heartbreak. Her tweets were far too pointed to leave any room for doubt. Darcy had gone to Lizzie.
Might as well get it over with. She watched the videos, watched as Darcy became more vulnerable and effusive than he had ever been with her, watched as Lizzie welcomed his attentions in a way that could not be mistaken for seduction. They were perfectly, stupidly, sickeningly happy together.
She sat quietly while something simmered inside her, came to a boil and exploded. She threw her coffee mug with a scream that frightened her. Splinters of ceramic flew everywhere, leaving an ugly brown stain on the wall. She stared at it, shaking. Her cheeks were hot and wet.
She hated crying. It ruined her mascara.
It was the sole outburst she allowed herself. After that, she took control again. Her plans had been torn to pieces; so what? She would make new plans.
First apologize to her brother. Then, when enough time had passed, reconcile with Darcy. She could learn to put up with Lizzie if that was what it took. Find a new place in this shifting social circle. Whatever that place was, she would make sure that she filled it better than anyone else.