Jane Houston…

She listened to the way the stairs creaked as someone moved up them and she held her breath. While Elizabeth had been fighting mercilessly with their boss, with that dratted man who seemed so determined to anger the poor woman, Jane had been rendezvousing with the dashing Bingley. She felt…different around him. She felt less eccentric and more grounded. It wasn't as if her life had promoted sanity. Her mother was bipolar and her rich father spent most of his time ignoring them both. She had used her flamboyant digressions as a youth to try and get his attention, but instead it seemed only to push him away. It helped her, however, in other instances and so she thrived on the theatric, on pretending to be anything other than what she was. And then she had met Elizabeth Bennet and things had changed. They weren't really anything more than acquaintances at the moment, women who circumstance had put together. But that's how this fast paced world worked these days. In a society centered on fast cars, fast conversations, and fast living, friendships also had to be made fast. Whether it lasted depended on the individuals involved. So far, the two seemed to be connecting. They were very different and yet so very alike. Only time would tell. She did know that they worked well together and it was really Jane's fault that they were both here now. It was also the reason Jane had gotten the opportunity to meet Charles again. They had been friends as teenagers. They all had when they were in their respective boarding schools only because they circulated in the same high society circles. She had fallen in love with him back then although he hadn't known. But what girl wasn't in love with the golden haired Adonis. He was just…superb. She had changed from that gangly, awkward, daring teenager into a daring woman and it seemed to attract him—seemed to make him look twice at her. And so they had spent a good deal of time together. She sat up straighter as the sound of footsteps came closer, as she remembered their first time alone together since seeing him for the first time at the ball upon arrival.

xxx

"You've changed." He had said quietly as she sat across from him with a raised brow and a cocky smile.

"Not so much. Just in appearance. Or maybe you're the one that has changed." She had replied with a self-assurance she really didn't have. But he didn't know that.

"Maybe." He remarked vaguely as they continued to look at each other. She had bowed her head to break eye contact.

"I used to have a crush on you once." She had revealed with a timidity that seemed to make him chuckle. He uttered the simple sound, 'ohhhh,' before placing a finger under her chin and tilting her face upwards.

"And now? Do you still have a crush on me now?" He had asked with a seriousness that had caused her to blush. She hadn't answered immediately. He smiled.

"Would it help if I told you I'm the one with a crush at present." He had stated so quietly she had almost missed it. Almost.

xxx

After that moment, things had changed. They had become fairly close—close enough that they stole every possible moment in order to be alone. His sisters detested her, made her weary. But he never seemed to care. The door of her room opened suddenly and his head appeared. He looked different tonight. Almost distant. He didn't even step into the room.

"Aren't you coming in?" She whispered to him lightly as he shook his head.

"Not tonight. I just wanted to tell you that I had work to do. It didn't feel right to just not show up." He replied with a shrug as she creased her brows together in confusion. There was something wrong here.

"Oh, okay." She muttered as he nodded.

"Have a good night then." She murmured as he nodded again before blowing her a kiss and closing the door. Jane pulled her knees up to her chest and looked out the window she was sitting next to. The clouds rolled across the skies above, hiding even the stars. What was up with Charles? Maybe, she should talk to Elizabeth. They hadn't spoken much since their arrival in Europe despite all the time they had spent preparing for the job together in America. She needed a close female friend right now so maybe it was time to work on their friendship. It couldn't hurt.

Fitzwilliam Darcy…

It seems strange how much a person can change in such a short period of time—how a couple of weeks can seem as long as a year, how connections just made can feel like they have been there a lifetime. And that strange, short connection also bothered Darcy. Why wouldn't it? He was sitting in his aunt's study now after flipping through his wallet to unearth an old photo of Stephanie and he almost grimaced. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake, that he needed to find a way to escape it before he made it worse. He had never felt this heavy burden before, this suffocating fear that his choices were wrong ones. He looked up at the portraits of his different ancestors where they hung along the walls. Those dark stares had always haunted him as a child, made him shiver whenever he visited his aunt, but Catherine had always informed him that they were reminders—reminders that life couldn't just be led, it had to be learned. Darcy just wasn't so sure anymore. A sound out in the corridor made him pause and he looked up curiously. It sounded strangely like stumbling. It made him curious enough that he stalked over to the door and peered out. What the hell?

"Elizabeth Bennet?" He exclaimed as he stepped out into the hallway to see the usually reserve, yet fiery brunette tripping over herself in her endeavor to reach the stairs leading to the second floor. She hiccupped before giggling. It didn't take Darcy long to register what her problem was.

"By God woman! Are you drunk?" He asked incredulously as she giggled again. Her reserve seemed lost to her, her hair was tumbling out of the up-do she normally wore it in, her eyes shown in a light that spoke of her uninhibited condition. She seemed to be throwing caution to the wind to replace it with something that would disgust him. His eyes narrowed as she finally quit attempting to move upward and just sat down heavily on the third stair up.

"I don't know. Am I drunk?" She asked him lightly as he moved slowly toward her. Her obvious glee troubled him. Had their dinner conversation really been that disturbing? It had for him. He was almost to her when she suddenly lifted her hand and pointed a trembling finger in his direction.

"You know, I think I hate you. Although I'm not sure if you could even call it that. You're like a tattoo etched across the skin that badly needs removed but you find yourself too scared to have it taken off because of the pain." She said haltingly while hiccupping a few times in between words. Darcy leaned against the railing as he watched her admit to feeling the draw that he felt toward her. This was just an altogether unusual situation.

"Was tonight really that disturbing, Ms. Bennet? Did you really have to imbibe in order to feel better?" He asked casually as she perused his raised brows with unconcealed disdain. The alcohol had taken the edge off of her reservations and she could not hide the feelings that now flitted across her features.

"Oh, I don't know. The conversation at dinner went well I thought. You know what they say about Catholics, right Darcy? We enjoy a drink now and again. I'm just a light weight." She said on a laugh as she stood up suddenly only to loose her balance. Darcy anticipated the movement and caught her just before she hit the floor. Her breath whooshed across his face as he caught her, a slightly tangy but sweet smell and he wondered at the drink she had taken. It wasn't the foul odor associated with beer or other liquors. Instead, it was heady. She batted her lashes as she looked up at him.

"Are you attracted to me, Mr. Darcy?" She asked unabashedly as she ran a finger along the collar of his slightly open shirt. He swallowed hard but kept his balance and his resolve.

"Now what kind of question is that, Ms. Bennet?" He asked softly as she shrugged within his grasp. The movement made him swallow again.

"An inappropriate one." She replied as he shook his head. She wasn't going to remember this conversation tomorrow. He could pretty much ensure that she'd hate herself once the sun rose. He righted her slowly.

"You're right. It's an inappropriate one." He remarked as she tripped again. He finally just held her against him for two reasons. She needed the support and he enjoyed the feel of her there. He shook his head. Her hair smelled liked roses.

"Damn you, Elizabeth Bennet! You make me want to forget who I am. You make me want to pretend to be someone else—someone impulsive. Someone who could pretend for a moment that there was such a possibility as love at first sight—someone who believed in getting married on a whim after a one night stand and we've barely touched." He whispered as he looked down to find their mouths so close…so very close. He closed the distance, letting his lips skim hers softly, feeling that same piercing electricity that always seemed to overtake him when she was near. His head wasn't talking to him anymore. Either that or he was just plain ignoring it. He would have deepened the kiss if their intimacy hadn't sobered her some, hadn't brought some clarity to the situation. She pushed away from him.

"Even if we both believed in such things, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth." She pointed out with clarity before literally stumbling up the stairs. She wouldn't remember this tomorrow. He could bet on it. But he needed to get away. He needed distance. He needed to find the man he fought so hard to be and not the man he was.

Author's Footnote: Hey you guys! Hope you haven't waited too long for an update. Smiles. Just wanted to reply to some of the reviews here. First off, thank you all for reading! Hugs! Second, I wanted to address one reviewer and say that no, I'm not Italian although I have always wanted to visit Italy. My main squeeze (laugh) spent time there before he went to Iraq (he was in the military) and, through him, I fell in love with the place. I am certainly not fluent in Italian, although I like to try and speak it (laugh) so I probably butcher whatever Italian I do use so if anyone notices, please be kind, but do not be afraid to make suggestions on the language use. Now, another thing I will point out is that I absolutely LOVE Jane Austen and the story of Pride and Prejudice. I have read it an innumerable amount of times and always adored the regency period when studying literature in college. Therefore, I most definitely give 100 percent credence and bows to her for coming up with a piece of work that let's us look at that time period as if we existed in it ourselves. Therefore, I sincerely hope that my story does not insult anyone who has a love and admiration for Jane Austen and this piece of work. I also believe that a fan fiction is about writing a fictional piece using characters that inspire you so, no, my story, while using characters and moments from the novel, is entirely fictional and hopefully endearing. I mean no insult to the regency novel and actually hope that I do it justice. I always saw Austen's work in a light that I hope comes across in this piece. For one, while Bingley and Jane's relationship in the novel is known by all and is frequently referred to, it is not written much about except in references by comments made by family and etc. Instead, Austen focuses the novel on strained moments between Darcy and Elizabeth, letting the emotions in the book build around that tension. That is why, I suppose, my piece infers the relationship between Bingley and Jane but doesn't focus on it. Also, the relationship between Elizabeth and her sister in the book is also shown in the few deep conversations they have together and through the love they show through letters and etc, but is also sort of put on the back burner in comparison to Darcy and Elizabeth's strained relationship. I suppose that's why I am not focusing so much on that as well. I do intend to bring Collins, Georgiana, Pemberley, and several other of the characters and settings, including the important Colonel Fitzwilliam into the story in due time as well as to delve into the Wickham conflict more deeply now that I've managed to create the desired tension between Lizzie and Darcy. As of now, I even mean to place pieces that involve the other characters such as the piece I did on Jane. I sincerely hope that everyone continues to read and to enjoy and if you feel the need to let me know if I get the language wrong or mess up anything in the story, do not be afraid to let me know. But also remember that I am writing a modern fictional piece with ideas I wish Austen might have employed or would hope that she would have if she had written the story in this time period. Love to all. This update is most certainly for you all, especially for Pippabelle and aragorn is mine who sent reviews that stated update SOON and I'm having withdrawals. That tickled me pink. Love! And please read and review. I look forward to hearing from you all—licensetowrite.