Yes I know. Real life kicked me in the head...and I was painful and hard to get back up. But I refuse to give up. No I will not abandon either story. I'm working on more chapters. I gave you guys an extra long chapter. Don't get too spoiled though.

Don't own it. Just renting.

Chapter 21: A Productive Day and Golfing

The rest of the night became awkward once Fred, and eventually Charles; showed up. Fred was moody, Bingley and Jane were obnoxiously cute, Darcy retreated into his shell, Liz tried to get more than three syllables out of her hubby, and Mary alternated between reading the Hunger Games and making fun of everyone. Good times…kinda.

Liz was NOT happy. "Hubby Wubby, I'm ready for bed." She turned to the parasitic bottom feeders, "Alright everyone…Get the hell out." She helped break the suction seal between the two Klingons. "I seriously love you guys… I'm just tired of looking at you."

Will didn't know if he was embarrassed by the pet name or extremely happy to be alone with his wife. It just reminded him that his marriage was confusing. His emotions confused him. His wife confused him. Her actions confused him.

Lizzie grabbed her husband by the hand and led him straight to their bathroom to run him a bath. Will smiled at her insistence that he deserved it for being a good husband even though he didn't have to be. She had planned to strip him down personally but he gave her the slip before she could even mention it. "How am I supposed to seduce him if he keeps shying away like that?" Liz had debated on many different ways to make her husband fall in love with her. Become his friend. Become his OCD coach. Spend time with him without smothering him. Spoil him with food. Subtly make him codependent towards her so that the thought of her not being around scared him. And of course seduce him. She decided on a little of all the above. She was confident about many of these techniques…seduction…not so much. She never had a person worth seducing. Okay, she never had a boyfriend…ever. Upon reflection she thought that conceivably, perhaps, possibly; she never made an effort at dating because her heart was already in Mr. Darcy's possession…maybe. Okay, definitely, absolutely, and without a doubt. She was putting the bubble bath away and heard the water slosh. "Damnit!" He slipped in and she didn't get the chance to check out the goods.

Will sat back grateful of the suds that covered his erection. He closed his eyes and tried to portray a visage of relaxation. Then she opened her mouth and took off her clothes.

"You know Darce, its rude not to look at someone and acknowledge them when they speak to you."

"What about being nude when addressing someone who isn't accustomed to…well, nudity?"

"I told you to get used to it."

"Well I'm not yet."

"Is there something wrong with my body? Is it horribly unattractive?"

"N-no no! T-that's n-not n-n-not. I-I didn't. Oh G-God!"

It shouldn't have stung. She knew he didn't mean it like that. She didn't even realize she had two slow tears running down her cheeks.

William noticed. "Why would my opinion of her body affect her so much?" Perhaps if he didn't decide that all women felt that it was a touchy subject; he would have followed that thread of thought to its proper conclusion. He didn't.

"Do you not like my body?" She was so preoccupied with the possibility that her husband might not find her physically attractive, that she didn't hear how her own voice cracked.

William heard. "N-not at all. D-don't be s-silly." Her jaw dropped and her mouth hung open. "N-no! I m-mean that it's s-silly to to th-ink that any-anyone would-dn't. I-I m-mean ev-veryone thinks-s you're g-gorg-eous. N-not that every-one has s-seen you n-naked. A-anyone who who has, w-would th-think your f-figure is s-s-s-t-tunning. The ep-pitome of the p-p-perfect f-female f-form." If he wasn't naked he'd comfort her.

Despite the stutter, or maybe even because of it; that was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to her. Despite her nakedness and his aversion to it; she bent over and gave him a hug Jane would be proud of.

"Elizabeth you're naked!"

She buried her nose in his neck and squeezed him tighter, "So what?! You are too."

"B-But…"

She sighed, thinking about having to let go. "You know what, shut up and scoot over." Now it was his turn to drop his jaw. "Consider this exposure therapy. In order to conquer your aversion; you must be submerged in it." He looked like he was about to pass out. "This tub is so huge we could be on opposite ends and never touch, now scoot."

Her demeanor was so authoritive it left no room for argument and Will moved over. "I'm naked in a bubble bath with Elizabeth Bennet…with an erection. She's naked. Without clothing. Wet. Nude. Don't stare at her boobs. Her naked boobs. Huh, breasts float. That means they must be real. Breasts are made of about 90% fat…" William continued a very scientific analysis of floating breasts in his head while staring at Liz's C-cups.

She let him. She was even tempted to tell him that it was okay to touch them. The look on his face was intimidating. And sexy. This was one of the looks she had assumed as a look of disdain and deep thought. She got the impression from earlier that he didn't exactly hate her body so now she was forced to reconsider the varying expressions of Mr. Darcy. The erection was also a clue. She had the grace to exit the tub first so he could deal with his not so little issue.

Will found her in bed fiddling with her tablet. The only light came from the device and his bedside lamp. "So how does one go about asking for benefits? Should I just come out and ask? Maybe I should wait for her to say something. Should I try to seduce her? How the hell am I supposed to seduce my wife?"

Darce turned off his light and Liz shut down her tablet. She didn't want Will to see that she was looking up tips on flirting. It didn't come naturally to her as it did with her youngest sisters. She didn't bother to study that particular human interaction as Mary had. And Jane was so sweet and kind to everyone that she was often mistaken as flirting. Lizzie did not have that unique problem, at all. So far her attempts bordered on creepy and perverted. "Can a husband sue for sexual harassment?" Not being able to tolerate the silence, yet not fully ready to attempt her sub-par flirting; she took a safer turn towards conversation. "So I was thinking of giving up my lease on my apartment. Completely."

Will almost bolted upright. "Could she be planning to stay?" He felt an almost nauseating giddiness that was so foreign to him; he mistook it for nerves instead of unmitigated joy. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to lose your home. If its money…"

"No Sugar Bee…"

"Unless you're referring to the possibility that I may have pollinated your…"

"If you liken my uterus to a flower; I may just have to hurt you."

"Retracted." He chuckled.

Lizzie marveled at the fact that he may be just as pervy as she was. "His perviness is so cute. I want to kiss his pervy mouth. Argh! Focus!" She took a breath and veered back on track. "It's not really a home. Just a place to stay. The furniture isn't even mine, it came with the apartment. It should be pretty easy to pack it all up. Sugar Bear?"

"Not unless you would like your uterus to be thought of as a honey pot." Insert a pause for mutual laughter. "But I thought you would want to keep it because your sisters live there too."

A minute too late Liz realized exactly how naughty the honey pot reference was. "Did he…down there…to me? Did he like it? He referred to…it…as honey. Oh dear Lord! I think I just came a little. Hmm so that's what Mary was talking about."

"Liz? Did you fall asleep?"

"Huh? Uh, no. Just thinking. I really don't care for the place. We only live there because Mrs. Young owns it and had already convinced Jane to live there and she didn't want to offend her by leaving. It was convenient and we just never got around to looking for anything else. The building manager, Mr. Whitman, is a total sleaze. And there's no elevator. Sugarpuss?"

"Wouldn't that be you?"

"Argh!" He was gonna kill her if he woke up to her humping his leg in her sleep.

"Is this Mrs. Young the RN Dr. Young is divorcing? What's with the sweet theme you have going tonight?"

"I think you're an extremely sweet man and I am trying to convey it. They're getting divorced!? Sugar Monkey, Sugar Daddy?"

Darcy was grateful she couldn't see him blush. "I was with Bingley when he came in to ask for legal advice concerning his pre-nup and her infidelity. I also answered his questions concerning how it would affect his job. They have been having problems for years now. Apparently his failing marriage was an influence on how he poorly dealt with you and your sisters. He was just hating women in general. I am not an ape nor do I wish to be viewed as your father figure…unless you're into being primitive or calling me your Daddy."

"Will not hump leg. Will not hump leg." Elizabeth Bennet is currently out of the office at the moment. Please come back at a later time. All she could do was let out a nervous giggle and mutter goodnight. "Will not hump leg…"

William was hard again. Flashes of being buried between her legs plagued him. He swore he could almost feel a weird tension in the air. He decided it was only one-sided and tried to sleep only to be assaulted by her milky flesh and lusty moans.

In the morning Will had leftover dinner aka; pancake tacos for breakfast, while Liz had the second half of her sandwich from her lunch. She was formally introduced to Mr., Mrs., and Tristan Reynolds. She watched as Darcy managed the ranch though the two Reynolds men and the home through the other. Apparently there were other Reynolds out there, somewhere.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to bring the truck around to the front; could you meet me out there in ten?" Liz just nodded and he turned to his stewart, "I trust you and your son can manage the project?"

"William, don't worry about a thing. It will all be finished by the time you two get home."

"Thank you Mr. Reynolds."

Lizzie tilted her head to the side as she watched his ass while he walked away. She vaguely heard chuckling in the background.

Ten minutes later Lizzie couldn't decide if God really loved her or if she had made him angry in some way. There he was bent over in the bed of a manly, big, black, Dodge Ram, Heavy Duty, extended cab, dually. Then to make everything worse, or maybe better; Darcy jumped down off the back in slow motion and gave her a panty soaking smile as he adjusted his glasses and walked towards her. "Fucking hot glasses! Sexy-ass truck! Orgasm-inducing grin! Damn!"

"Liz, if you don't let go of your duffle bags; I can't put them in the truck."

"Oh, sorry. I was admiring you, uh um, your truck. I was in awe of your truck."

"Would you like one? I also have it in red." Maybe if he gave her gifts he could bribed her to stay…or love him…or apply benefits…liberally.

He opened her door and she climbed in. "You have a spare truck?"

"Um, yes? This is a working horse ranch. It's not too unusual I believe."

"Oh, right forgot for a moment." She hoped he didn't see her slap her forehead before he got in. Half way to her place she told him she couldn't possibly drive such a huge vehicle.

Without even a smirk or hint of joking he turned to her and said, "Ah well I have a BMW, an Audi, and a couple of Mercedes for you to choose from." She could only stare at him in shock. "What? Should we go look at something else? Maybe a Lincoln or Cadillac?"

Lizzie often forgot the billionaire part of Darcy. "What? You can't just up and buy a new car for me just on a whim!"

"Why not? You don't have a car of your own. You can have Tristan drive you to work whenever I can't I suppose. But wouldn't you like the freedom of having your own vehicle?" Darce was genuinely confused. "Isn't it my job as your husband to take care of your needs?"

She was so dumbstruck she didn't realize that they had arrived. "How did he know where I lived? He wants to care for my needs…like a real husband? Seriously, I never told him where I lived."

Will tried to figure out what he did wrong. He made his way around to open her door and puzzled over it in true Darcy fashion. "Did she not want to feel indebted to me? Maybe little gifts aren't the right way to go? Maybe she thought it was a loaner and not a real gift? Perhaps jewelry instead?" He opened her door and she stumbled out and landed in his arms. "Are you sure you are fully recovered from the fall from yesterday?"

"Nope, I mean yes. Uh can you restate the question?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. Of course, just a little weak in the knees." She mumbled. "Come on, I'm on the fifth floor."

William Darcy was transfixed, hypnotized, enamored. Five floors of watching Liz's ass. Yup he missed every word she said about how she didn't want to take a car from him. And how he doesn't have to buy her a car because she has more than enough money get one on her own. When he finally snapped out of it he heard the last of her speech.

"So like I said I don't want to be a burden and although I appreciate the thought it is totally unnecessary."

At this point Will was so sexually wound up he was about to break from frustration. "Bennie, it's a gift. Please just accept it graciously and move on. The cost is minimal, the trouble is nil, and it would offend me if you belittle the gesture."

He said it with such an air of authority that she got turned on and she almost blushed and said "Yes, master."

He looked at her and raised his brow. "Why are you blushing? And why did you call me master?"

So apparently it wasn't all in her head. "Come in. We can start in my study or the living room." She suddenly realized she needed to check her bedroom for dirty clothes lying around. Or porn. Or vibrators. "Damnit Mary, why'd you give me that crap for? Why would it be lying around, and not in the trash or at least in a box hidden under your bed?"

Liz blushed and muttered something about a stupid inner voice. "Hey Will, could you pack my office? I'll work on my room and then we can wrap up the living room and kitchen after. Mary and Jane will be dividing most of my kitchen stuff between themselves. Thuggin' vultures."

"We have storage space if you'd like to keep it all."

"No I'm good. I just want something to complain about. Sister thing." She took a couple of the folded up boxes Will brought up and her empty bags. She then made a dash into her room, locked the door and dove into her closet. There it was; THE BOX. It contained the stolen pen, several rough drafts of papers from class that he had folded up before throwing away (wadding them up was not an option), tons of doodles, a shirt, and a lot of pictures. It was previously mentioned that she was a bit obsessed. The shirt? He didn't like to shower when there were too many people around so it was simple to sneak in as he rinsed off after gym in near isolation. She at least had the good sense to grab the clean one, not the smelly work out shirt. She was torn. Should she trash it all or should she keep it? If she kept it how would she hide it?

While she pondered the proof of her obsession; Will pondered his wife. It only took him a moment to determine the most efficient way to pack the contents of her study. It was taking him forever, however, to figure her out. He now understood how a vast array of books could perturb his cousin so much. Medical journals were mixed with modern fiction and classic literature. Books on art and architecture thrown in with history and photo albums. Was that porn? He opened the book with no name just a couple having sex on the cover. Dear Lizzie, Even if you have no need for this now; someday you will. I find it both artful and educational. Love forever, Mary. He tried not to let his curiosity take over. He failed…completely. In fact he would have finished the room sooner if he hadn't run into several books of the same nature. If he wasn't in an agitated state before…

Once Elizabeth made her decision; packing went by in a hurry. She finished up and ran back down to the truck to get a few more boxes for the living room. She ran into the creepy Gerry Whitman and he insisted on helping her with the rest of her load.

Will heard her leave and was about to run down to assist her when he saw a piece of doodled on paper lying on the bottom of her desk drawer. It was a sketch of an eye. A male eye. It looked vaguely familiar. It looked almost pained and sorrowful. She had used both blue and black ink, giving it a deep color. "I wonder how common that color is? It's kinda like mine." Something was in the pupil. He had to turn it in the light. It looked like letters. He flipped it over to see the impression: 'E + W'. He flipped it back over to see that it dated back to… "…my first year in college."

Now, Darcy is no idiot; but he lacks in the self-esteem department. He felt a sharp pain in his chest. Instead of finding happiness in this treasure; all he could think of was how he had had her and didn't know it. He thought of how he screwed it up before even knowing he had a chance. A real chance. He didn't kid himself. She was sixteen with a small interest in him. But still it had been something he could have built on. He could have been her friend and he would have had two years to turn it into something profound. Now he was married to her and could only pray that she didn't hate him anymore. He heard her at the door and slipped the paper into his back pocket. He'd later put it in his special box. For now he just needed to see her, and opened the door for her.

How long does it take for shit to hit a fan? Not long at all.

The door opened and Will's face went from placid to enraged in two seconds. He then yelled "Wickham!" and punched him in the mouth. Then a few seconds later he pinned him to the wall with his forearm to his throat.

Lizzie, the paragon practicality, ran into her apartment on at the sound of the name Wickham, grabbed her favorite golf club and pounded it both at the ceiling as well as the floor. This alarm had her sisters running towards Lizzie's floor.

In about a minute the women took control, much to the shock of Mr. Darcy and his prey. "So help me you son of a bitch; you will rot in prison for what you did to my sister!"

"She wanted it rough Darcy my boy." Wickham was never considered wise.

"William, do you mind being a dear and moving away from that particular piece of shit." Jane; so sweet and kind.

Will turned to see the three Bennet sisters each holding golf clubs while sporting cynical smiles and stares that could practically shoot fire. He could see the family resemblance. He backed away…slowly.

Mary held the wedge with a firm confident grip as she swung it expertly at his shoulder. A loud popping was heard as George screamed and fell to the floor. "Did that look about right sis?"

"Yes. Very good Mary. Dislocation of the shoulder is typical of a tragic fall down the stairs."

Jane stepped up to Wickham. "It takes a lot for me to hate someone. It takes even more for me to hurt someone. You don't count as someone. You don't count as human." Her nine-iron came down on his knee…hard.

Mary and Jane helped poor Mr. Wickham up as Elizabeth talked on the phone to the emergency operator, "That's right fell down the stairs. He saw me and looked scared and tried to turn and run. Oh, no! He's trying to leave again! Mr. Whitman wait! Stop you're gonna…"

That was when Lizzie shoved a teetering Wickham down the stairs and held the phone out for the dispatcher to hear. "Mr. Whitman? I'm a doctor. I believe you just dislocated your shoulder and possibly damaged your knee. Don't get up again. Stay there. I'm gonna get my sisters and my husband." The girls worked on getting the barely conscious man up again. "Hello? Yes, I'm still here. Oh, and my sisters heard the commotion and are here to help. I need to wake my husband. He can nap through anything. NO! Whitman don't!" All three sisters made sounds of distress and trampled on the stairs as they let the monster fall down the stairs again.

At the sound of sirens Mary took all of their golf clubs and hid them in the utility closet. Liz ruffled Darcy's hair and got him to take off his shoes. She then told him to wait for two minutes and then to come down, act mad and surprised, and then identify Whitman as the wanted criminal bastard George Wickham.

Jane kicked the unconscious man in the balls...twice.

As the EMT's arrived the girls went into doctor mode. They spoke fast and deliberate; leaving little doubt about how they desperately tried to help their building manager. Then along came Darcy to ask if Lizzie was okay and to see what the ruckus was about. He was mid-way through an Oscar worthy apology that he slept through it all when he caught a glimpse of the monster in the gurney. "That man is not your building manager! That's George Wickham! He has been evading arrest for the rape of my sister for several years!"

The Bennets displayed several convincing emotions; shock, anger, disbelief. Liz tried not to let her façade crack, "My marriage to William was on the news. That must be why he ran! He knew my husband could identify him!"

In reality The Fucking Bastard; which is his new proper name in the eyes of the Bennet sisters, was too busy with Mrs. Young to even turn on the TV.

The cops took their statements. The EMT's took their prisoner/patient. And the rest finished up Liz's apartment before Will took them out for Thai. All in all it was a productive day.

So sorry about the long wait. Now that Wickham has made an appearance (not the last though) time will go by a bit faster.

Up next: Georgiana comes home, The Darcy's return to work and, the answer to the big pregnancy debate.

So what do you think? Is she prego?

What did you think of the tub and bedroom scenes?

OOOH and the sketch?! And the way the Bennet's play golf?