Covered in this chapter: ep. 71-75.

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Her next video began with a bang. Or a whistle, as it were. Darcy started a bit when her dad tried out his new train whistle, loud even through her laptop's mediocre speakers.

"Oops! Guess I could have warned you."

"And miss the pleasure of seeing me jump? Doubtful."

Lizzie grinned, unrepentant. She was feeling downright giddy at the moment. Darcy saw the value in her work and had even implied it was excellent, and for now not even the fact that her fight with Lydia was coming soon could dampen her playfulness.

Lydia's birthday party wasn't so annoying in her current frame of mind. Darcy's eyebrows rose a little at the damage—stains, a fire in the backyard, the sound of breaking glass in the background—but then she described her plan to manage her parents' reactions. "Having them rush home from Uncle Phil's will only result in a lot of yelling, and chances are, Lydia would be passed out for it. Better to wait 'til tomorrow so they can witness the carnage, and Lydia will be sober…and hung over."

Darcy's mouth quirked upward. "Have I mentioned that you're ruthless?"

"Yep. And forthright. If you're not into that, it's not too late to switch to Jane. Mom would be thrilled to see her with someone again."

"It is far too late, in truth," he said, the sweep of his fingers raising goosebumps up and down her arm. "In any case, I doubt Jane would have me. And though I have learned to admire her and am grateful to her for treating me more kindly than I deserve, she is too…agreeable for me."

He was making this too easy. "So you prefer me because I'm disagreeable? Gosh, all these compliments are going to make me swoon."

Though she wouldn't have admitted it, she secretly hoped her sally would provoke some response from him. Darcy did not disappoint but bent his head toward her. "You are also intelligent, affectionate, and…wholly captivating."

"Oh." Swooning seemed like a real possibility when he looked at her like that, his gaze intent and full of heat. The moment stretched out between them, and his thumb came up to brush along her jaw. Then he restrained himself and smiled a little before turning back to her laptop.

They had missed Mary's entrance, and Lizzie gathered her wits enough to explain who she was. The cousins were discussing the "would-be party crasher" Lizzie had taken care of, and Mary's innocent "Was it that Darcy guy you're always talking about?" had them exchanging amused glances. A more unlikely party crasher than Darcy was hard to imagine.

The actual spurned party crasher was, of course, Wickham. Lizzie sat back and noted the flickers of expression on Darcy's face as he watched the reenactment of their encounter. He scowled upon learning Wickham had "grope-hugged" her, but the mention of his own name, and her assertion that he had "some virtues", made his eyes widen. By the end, when Mary hollered "No! You're not invited! You can't come tonight!," he was suppressing a smile.

"I assume that was not an accurate representation of your manner?"

She snorted. "I wish!"

He did not turn back to her laptop, however, but rather gazed at her with some unreadable emotion. She raised her eyebrows in question, and he spoke, his voice halting. "My parents loved George and—and were deceived by him until the end. Gigi…I would give anything to prevent her having learned the truth as she did. I cannot tell you what it means to know that you…".

"That I believe you?"

"That you defended me to him."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and tenderness in her heart, as she pondered what that admission meant for him. Lizzie twisted toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll do one better next time." When he made a questioning murmur, she added, "I'll actually tell him some of your virtues." His response was a low chuckle that she could feel as well as hear.

It was, of course, inevitable that their interlude would come to an end. The next video brought her fight with Lydia. Darcy must have felt her tense up, for he glanced at her and tightened his arm around her shoulders. Lydia's manner at the beginning was jarring now—happy, squealing with excitement at the prospect of a present. Lizzie watched her video self as Lydia opened the package, knowing her face reflected her thoughts. Somehow, she'd expected Lydia to appreciate that book.

"There's plenty of upsides to being a mature, responsible adult," she was saying, trying futilely to cover for her mistake. "Maybe it would be good for you not to be so…energetic all the time."

"Oh no," Darcy breathed, realizing immediately what she had done. Lydia recognized it as well and quoted Caroline's long-ago words exactly. Lizzie tried to smooth things over, but nothing got through to Lydia. She rose, leaving Lizzie to defend her motives to an empty room and a camera.

The train wreck continued in her next video. She watched Lydia's video listing the ways she could "stop being so incredibly lame," then confronted her sister. Darcy saw her hurt expression and shifted closer still, offering physical as well as emotional support. His body stiffened as Lydia spat out her intention to go to Vegas. "And don't even bother watching my videos while I'm gone! You think I'm too much to handle now, you just wait!"

"What makes you think I would even want to?"

It had been the most hurtful thing she could think to say, but Lydia hadn't even blinked. "So this makes what, Lizzie? Best friend, boyfriend, older sister, younger sister, all gone in what, four months? My video was wrong. You are good at something."

Darcy stopped the video at the end, then angled his body to see her face. "Lizzie, you know that what she said isn't true, don't you?"

She did know it, intellectually—she and Charlotte had reconciled, she was well rid of Wickham, and Jane's move had nothing to do with her. "Yeah, but…".

"But that she said it still hurts. As she intended." She nodded, looking unseeingly at her hands. A minute passed before he spoke again, his voice pained. "I apologize for my part in this."

"You're not actually responsible for everything, you know. I can see from the videos that this had been coming for a long time."

"But it was my arrogant words about your family that angered her and, by extension, hurt you again. If you think it would help, I will apologize for speaking of her with such disrespect."

She shook her head. That conversation would be a disaster. "Thanks, but…you can't fix this."

He accepted her decision with a nod. "Is she in Las Vegas still?"

"I don't know. I—I tried to watch her first video after she left, but…she said straight to the camera that it was my last warning to stop watching. So I did."

It was quiet then. Too quiet. Lizzie's mind was churning wearily, replaying the scene as she had so often, trying to imagine different reactions for herself. The result was always the same. "I hate this!" she exclaimed finally. "I hate that she won't listen, that she's probably off doing something stupid that will hurt her a lot more than it'll hurt me! But what can I do? If I apologize, she'll just think that…".

Darcy looked ready to say something but then drew her to him instead. She went willingly, pressing her face into his chest. He felt rather tense but tried to comfort her as she gave voice to her frustration, one of his hands anchored in her hair while the other rubbed her back in a soothing little circle.

At length, she sighed, gusty and cross. "I don't know how you do it with Gigi. She says you practically raised her, but she can't say enough good things about you."

"She didn't always." That tone in his voice made her pull back enough to see his face. "After…after I paid Wickham off, she said…". He looked away, swallowing hard. "She has since informed me that she did not mean what she said."

"Oh. I didn't know. I—I'm sorry." So that's why he was so bothered by her fight with Lydia. "How did you, um, repair things with her?"

"I don't believe I have, yet. Not completely, at any rate. I haven't known what to do. I've just tried to be patient and—and love her."

She looked down then, her hand fiddling absently with his sleeve. Finally, she made a concerted attempt to shrug off her seriousness. "We should keep going, I guess."

"Are you certain you wish to, Lizzie? You must be drained after all this."

"And it's been a cakewalk for you?"

Darcy didn't respond immediately, waiting instead for her to meet his gaze. "It is not my life we have been scrutinizing, primarily."

That soft, caring tone buoyed her, and she straightened a little and smiled at him. "I'll be fine. We're almost done, anyway."

Her Christmas video was next. It was disjointed, by turns funny, nostalgic, and immature as she and Lydia sniped at each other through the closed door of Lydia's room. Darcy was watching her more than the video again, probably trying to gauge how upset she still was. She bit her lip, not wanting their marathon to end this way. Fortunately, the close of the video gave her an idea.

"What did you and Gigi do for Christmas?" she asked, pausing the video.

"We skiied. It is a tradition with us."

"What, no formal dinner with Catherine and Anniekins?" The expression that crossed his face just then made her laugh. It felt good to laugh again. "Where did you go?"

They had a cabin in the Sierras. Darcy seemed to sense what she was trying to do, for he described the area in detail, even sharing a few memories from past holidays spent there. Then he asked a question of his own. "Earlier in this video, you said something about Q&As. Are there more videos even than we've watched?"

"Only a few. I post them about once a month."

"What sort of questions do your viewers ask?"

"Well," Lizzie tilted her head and drew out the word teasingly, "There's 'What does Darcy really do?' and 'Aren't you being a little dramatic about Darcy?' and 'Will we ever get to see Darcy?' and…well, you get the picture."

"You exaggerate, surely."

"Nope. Those were actual questions."

"I do not think I am so intriguing as to merit that." He became adorably flustered then. "I…um, please do not think I spoke in expectation of being contradicted. I merely—." His voice cut off suddenly as she leaned in to press her lips to his shoulder. His mouth fell open comically, and his eyes lit with confused pleasure. "You…kissed me."

She was blushing already for having acted so impulsively, but she couldn't regret putting that look on his face. "Only your shoulder, and only because you said something ridiculous like 'in expectation of being contradicted.'"

He stared at her hard, the Darcybot in full computing mode. "Will that," he finally asked, inclining his head toward his shoulder, "always be the consequence of using such language?"

"Maaaybe." He smiled then, a little twitch of the lips that became a full-blown, foolish grin. She grinned back at him. "I'm never getting a one-syllable word out of you again, am I?"

"Not if you provide such incentive for using sesquipedalian words."

"Sesquip…what?" How did he make a word that clunky sound so hot?

"Sesquipedalian words are those with many syllables. Literally, it means they are a foot and a half long."

"Sesquipedalian," she repeated carefully, and he nodded. "I guess that deserves something too," she said, planting a tiny kiss in the same spot as before. "Happy now?"

"Very."

Lizzie smiled at the utter contentment in his voice and rested her head against his shoulder. She was fairly certain he knew a sesquipedalian word for "very happy"—she could contribute a few herself, for that matter—and while her insides fluttered at the thought of him someday provoking more kisses in that way, she was grateful for his restraint now. It was all, still, so new.