"Darcy, this is my sister, Elizabeth."

-X-

« So what happened next? » Charlotte asks.

Drinks on Elizabeth's terrace. Both women are dressed warmly, a cold wind blows; down in the street, the plane trees' leaves are already falling.

The heat vanished so fast, it's not even funny.

"Then," Elizabeth says, laughing despite the unpleasantness of the memory. "Then… God, was it awkward."

"I bet."

"The worse, I think, was Jane and Bingley looking at us hopefully, like…lightning was going to strike, like we were going to fall in love right here and there. Like I was going to take one look at Darcy and swoon, or, you know, the opposite. Cue, the most uncomfortable three seconds of my adult life."

Charlotte chuckles. "I am sorry to say, your painful story is extremely amusing."

"Then Jane felt our embarrassment and saved the day, asking about drinks, talking – I don't remember, about the weather, I suppose; I came to my senses, I walked to Darcy, wearing my best patented polite smile, and said: 'I am very glad to meet you'…"

-X-

"We already met," Darcy answers.

Without thinking. Just blurting it. Without… Oh God. He's so stupid. He's just… He's not used to lying.

Panic flickers in Elizabeth's eyes – or maybe exasperation, or a desperate form of amusement, who knows – she recovers quickly enough. "You're right, we did, we talked… In the, in the café…" Elizabeth turns to Bingley, the smile still on her lips. "I was at Hamid's, writing, you know? Just below your windows, actually. Darcy was reading at the next table."

"Oh, so you already know each other," Bingley comments, hesitating between disappointment and joy at the idea that two of his dear friends will soon become even better acquainted.

"Just some small talk," Darcy says. "We didn't…realize who…" he hesitates, "who we really were."

"Almost as if we had secret identities or something," Elizabeth adds, her smile more sincere, and Darcy feels it, how Bingley looks at Elizabeth, then at Darcy, still hoping for them to connect, still hoping for love at first sight, and, you know what? For a split second here, Darcy actually…

Looking at Emma... at Elizabeth's perfect countenance, at the light dancing in her eyes despite the dreadfulness of the situation, Darcy almost…

He almost…

He loses his train of thought when Jane comes back with glasses and the wine Darcy brought, which is perfect, because "vin de glace" is Bingley's favorite, he's very knowledgeable about the vinification method and the conversation takes a turn, Elizabeth encourages it, talking with fortitude about frozen grapes and high altitude, the glint of amusement in her eyes turning in a sort of stupefaction, then sadly Bingley pushes the topic aside to get back to a very unsubtle "Oh my God Lizzy, Darcy, I can't believe you already talked, how statistically improbable, this cannot be random happenstance the universe really wants you to meet, wink wink, ha ha."

Elizabeth turns crimson. Darcy is almost glad for it. Elizabeth Bennet is human after all, she gets flustered, she does not react to adversity with perfect Zen mastery. Also, Darcy can swoop in now, be the hero a little instead of being rescued in conversation by the girl he just broke up with, he smiles, raises his glass, and says very amiably, "the universe is really stubborn, and I, for one, am very glad to be here, among dear friends," and it's – not a very Darcy thing to say, but he wants to. He's supposed to be getting better at this. Communication, amiability, respect. It would really be a dick move to let Emma, no, Elizabeth, flounder in this alone – and at Darcy's own surprise, it works, everyone relaxes, Bingley gives him an impressed look, and Elizabeth – Elizabeth smiles, raises her eyes and her glass with a nod Darcy interprets as "message received, let's be friends," Jane seems happy, "Well, we have another reason to celebrate," she chimes in, "because Charles had good news at work," and thank God work is more efficient than vine, the conversation swerves for good this time, the atmosphere warm and friendly, everyone cares about Bingley, everyone is happy to know he got another promotion, "I received a lot of compliments about the way I encourage team bonding", he explains, "his boss said that everyone likes him," Jane intervenes, so proud, Elizabeth looks at her sister's fiancé, smiling, "I'm not surprised," she comments, with earnest conviction; Jane gives her sister such an affectionate look, Darcy feels a pinch, something hurts, he doesn't know why, a feeling of loss, maybe he misses Georgiana.

-X-

"So, basically," Charlotte concludes, "you handled this like a pro. You drowned the asshole into an ocean of Elizabeth Bennet's awesomeness."

"There were a few moments where… But mostly, yeah, I was awesome," Elizabeth decides, sipping her drink, shivering a little despite her plaid of dark wool – a gift from Jane, when she and Bingley went to Scotland. "George… Darcy, he… He was ok too, considering. The rest of the dinner was fine."

Charlotte shakes her head. "You are a better person than I am. I would have roasted that creep alive. I mean, you can, Eliza, I've seen you do it, you know, destroy somebody thoroughly with a few chosen sentences."

"I should not be proud of it," Elizabeth protests, a little embarrassed. "Must have been before my 'I shall behave more like Jane' realization. I have no reason to be mad at Darcy though. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh come on."

"He – we went on a date, and after some thought, he decided he was not interested. He sent me a very polite message about it."

"A text. He broke up by text."

"Yes, thank God. Who wants to be there in the flesh when someone dumps you?" Elizabeth takes a deep breath. "Nothing's wrong with him. People are allowed not to date me."

"Well, his loss."

"Definitely."

And there is something, in the way Elizabeth averts her eyes, in the way she gazes at the hints of autumn blowing down in the street, that alerts Charlotte's wary friendship.

-X-

Curry's great. To Darcy's surprise, the conversation is…ok, really. Bingley is in an excellent mood, Jane is as ever polite and sweet, Elizabeth is maybe a little silent at first, but still smiling, participating here and there with some witty remarks. So strange – it's as if the George/Emma adventure never happened, as if Elizabeth was actually not Emma, but someone else, and she is, in a way. Elizabeth's remarks are sharper, she holds herself straighter, she's dressed differently too, a nice black dress, discreet earrings – the result is so different, so unlike Emma's relaxed look of fatigued jeans and loose hair and simple green tops – Emma's ready laugh, Emma's skin, kissed by the sun – but maybe it was just the heat, a vision, a parenthesis of uncharacteristic behavior.

Darcy gets it. He's not George either, not here. In Netherfield, he is Bingley's solemn friend, imbued with all the gravitas of Fitzwilliam Darcy's life's history. Then Jane asks Elizabeth about "that deal she wanted to get, or was it a new client, Lizzy, at Collins & Collins, I think?" The name of the firm feels vaguely familiar to Darcy, he is not sure why, anyway Elizabeth speaks of her new mission, her enthusiasm real but subdued, her eyes are shining with joy and strength, but not like Emma either, Emma was more open, laughter and delight obvious. This is another facet of Elizabeth, light and energy palpable, but kept under a glittering surface of reasonable, smooth behavior; Darcy is so fascinated, studying every nuance, that he is taken by surprise when Bingley asks him about the Matlock charity gala; after a few non-committal answers, the conversation turns to Pemberley, Jane asking Darcy if he misses those days.

He ponders his answer. It's a complicated one.

"I miss being part of something important," he finally explains. Elizabeth is listening intently, Darcy knows. "Parts of Pemberley's missions I sincerely believed in. It was… It was too much too early, it devoured my life, so quitting was the right decision," he adds after some thought, "but yes, sometimes I do miss it."

"A lot of paperwork and hassle… plenty of responsibilities, but good results," Bingley says.

"Kind of like managing a hospital," Elizabeth comments, innocently eating curry.

"Indeed," is Darcy's answer. "Excellent comparison."

"I thought so."

"Someone very smart must have thought of it." Darcy regrets it instantly - what is he doing, bantering with the woman he…with a woman he should not be bantering with? But Elizabeth seems amused.

"So, Elizabeth," Darcy asks, with a little emphasis on the name, "what are you doing? You write, clearly, but…"

She smiles. "I am a freelancer. Specializing in communication for non-profits."

"I thought you were supposed to be a doctor?" he asks, remembering gossip from the party.

"I did attend medical school – for five whole, interminable, rather unpleasant years," Elizabeth answers, she smiles again, because Darcy doesn't need her to fill the rest, he knows.

"Ah." He grins. "Medical procedures. Complex, redundant, often boring. A lot of unrelated, dry facts to memorize. Kind of like… Let me find a proper comparison…."

"Were you going to say law school?" Elizabeth asks, her face full of the same beautiful innocence, and Darcy laughs.

"Yes! Now that I think of it…"

"Elizabeth quit medical school," Jane explains, and you can feel in her voice how proud she is of her sister's choices, as unconventional as they are, "despite family's pressure…"

"You did not pressure me, Janey."

"And then she…"

-X-

"How very civilized of you all," Charlotte groans. "Also, boring. Where is the drama? Tell me that's the moment you 'involuntarily' poured hot, burning curry onto Darcy's lap. And when I say his lap, I really mean his…"

"Sadly, the curry was entirely gone by then.'

"Red wine on his shirt? To mark him with the indelible stain of treachery?"

"We drank white wine only."

"I am disappointed, I have to say."

Elizabeth stays uncharacteristically silent, her gaze absent, and Charlotte is worried again, till Elizabeth comes back to herself with a gesture rather too light, her expression too unconcerned. "Then I said I had to prepare for a conference call in the morning, I was charming and fun and relaxed, said goodbye to everyone, then left, and yep, as you say, very civilized, the whole deal."

"Really was," Charlotte says, on high alert now. She sneakily pours more Martini in Elizabeth's glass, then waits till her friend has absently sipped it, and fills Elizabeth's glass again.

Silence.

Elizabeth speaks at last. "If you want a man to regret his decision, it's never a good idea to be obnoxious and dramatic, right?"

Ah. There it is. "So, you want him to regret you?" Charlotte asks, casually.

"Well." Elizabeth smiles. "I am only human. Of course, I want him to regret his decision. I don't want him back, clearly, we do not fit, but of course, I want him to fall on his knees weeping in his stupid hotel room, tearing his hair out, wailing, 'Oh Gods, oh fates, what a terrible mistake I made! Never shall I find such a magnificent woman again!' Or, you know, a Shakespearian reaction of some sort."

Charlotte nods. "On a scale of one to ten, how much were you hurt? When he, ended things?"

Elizabeth drinks more martini. "I'm never hurt. You know me. Tough as nails. Unflappable."

"Right."

"Puny feelings do not wound me."

"Sure."

"Romance? Who needs it! Love is for the weak."

"No contradiction here."

"It's just…"

"Mmm?"

Elizabeth hesitates. "It makes it better, really? Now that I know George is really Fitzwilliam Darcy, rich and famous, fancy schools, connected to the Matlock family and all."

"Why?"

"Because, it's… I mean," she says, averting her gaze, and to Charlotte's horror Elizabeth seems deadly serious, "of course I would not be worthy of him."

-X-

After curry, Elizabeth explains she cannot stay, she's all smiles and cheerfulness, she doesn't rush her departure, and obviously, Darcy understands that she's fleeing the scene. Her situation must be at least a little uncomfortable, her gaiety must be posturing, right? But it's so well done, Elizabeth is such a good actress, her conversation seems so fluid, that Darcy can't help feeling his interpretation is wrong, that she is sincerely, perfectly at ease, and then Elizabeth laughs and hugs Jane and another joke and she's gone, and –

Everything just feels bland after that.

-X-

"NO. Oh NO. No no no no." Charlotte speaks with cold rage. "You think you are not worthy of a man because he's rich? Elizabeth Bennet, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

Thank God hearing her idiotic thought thrown back at her jostles Elizabeth a little. "No! I mean – I didn't mean – of course, I am worthy, but Darcy, he doesn't know that. Ok, Charlotte, I- I was wondering what happened between Emma and George. For him to - to put an end to it. It was going really well, or so I thought, and then," Elizabeth's voice cracks a little, "so yes, I was asking myself – and now, I know. It is a relief, really."

Charlotte points to Elizabeth's martini glass. "Drink."

Elizabeth obeys. "Now, listen," Charlotte orders. "The worthiness thing, it's actually the opposite. If Darcy is rich and powerful, he's supposed to be clever, right? No, no, do not list the numerous counterexamples... I worked for his aunt for a while, Darcy is smart, they say. And he didn't realize who he had caught in his net?"

"In his net?"

"You! He caught you!"

"Such an extremely bizarre metaphor."

"He caught Elizabeth Bennet by mistake and didn't realize her value? Fuck him! He's not worthy."

"I– my value? I am a struggling writer who can hardly make rent. I quit school. My family is nuts. My apartment is… Well, you're in it…"

"Since when does this constitute value?"

"Charlotte…"

"You know I wanted to replace you, as a friend."

Elizabeth is shocked into silence. Good. Charlotte continues. "I thought, I am leaving town, leaving Elizabeth behind, she disapproves of my choices," Charlotte explains, with a half-smile, fortunately Elizabeth and Charlotte's disagreement about William Collins is long past, they are thoroughly reconciled now. "So at the time I thought, ok, our friendship is over," Charlotte adds, "and I decided, who cares! Friends? A dime a dozen! Elizabeth? I will replace her easily."

"You sure know how to comfort someone."

"Except, I couldn't. Sure, I made new acquaintances. But turns out, people who are funny, clever and kind – strike that, people who are very funny, clever and kind, who do not freak out easily, who see how the world really is…but still do not become cynical, and retain a healthy capacity for affection… Well. Turns out, at my own surprise, those people are extremely rare. If Darcy doesn't realize that…"

Charlotte's voice trails away. Elizabeth is unable to speak for a minute, so Charlotte starts again.

"Remember this assignment, where you only got an A, but Mr. Crimsworth read your conclusion aloud to the whole class? I was so very jealous."

"Social classes are very real," Elizabeth quotes from that stupid thing she wrote when she was seventeen. She wanted to prove to the world she was so edgy and clever, and was offended when she didn't get the A+ she coveted. "But they're also an illusion, a magic trick: like ghosts, they disappear the day you stop believing in them."

Charlotte smiles. "Yep. That."

"I think I stole it from my dad. Not the whole phrasing, but the general idea."

"I always liked your father. But, ok, see how this is relevant here?"

"I do. I see your point. And, also, Charlotte?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Silence follows, comfortable, the night has set, it's getting really cold but neither of them wants to move, so they order Thai food, after an excellent meal Elizabeth is feeling so much better, also the Martini has kicked in, and so she begins to list to Charlotte all the ways she will get over George/Darcy, which includes dancing in the street, drunk-dialing all her exes, telling Henry (Tilney) that that crush he had on Elizabeth years ago, before they started to work together and Henry met Catherine, well, it is time to do something about it, "I will tell him, Henry dear, dump your fiancée, burn all your clothes…"

"Why should he burn all his clothes?"

"So he could show up naked on my doorstep."

"Aren't he and Catherine married now?"

"I will tell him, Henry dear, dump your wife, burn all your clothes, let's have a hot, passionate, adulterous affair…"

"Sounds like reasonable and healthy rebounding behavior."

"Seriously," Elizabeth starts, after a pause, "I'm going to take a break from men. The funny thing is, I was telling George, during our date, that he… that any attempt at romance had the potential to be dangerous. Painful. I was right, so… Signing off now. No flirting, no love, nothing. For a while. Guarding my heart from now on."

Charlotte stretches.

"I feel like I'm supposed to protest and tell you that you should give love a chance, that the right man is just around the corner, but nope… I say, good thinking. I wholeheartedly support your decision."

-X-

Darcy doesn't linger after dessert.

He says goodbye. He leaves. He walks across the esplanade, the sycamores shivering in the shadows. He walks to his hotel. Another elevator.

His room.

Shower, etc.

He lies on his bed. He stares at the ceiling.

He is not regretting his decision, obviously. He broke up with Emma for very valid reasons. He was right. Totally right. He isn't regretting anything, oh no. He did not make a horrible mistake.

He tries to sleep. He cannot. Somewhere Emma laughs, or Elizabeth. She's looking at him, eyes shining.

Bingley's loft, so empty, when she was gone.

Darcy sits up and tries to read, it doesn't take. Finally, he gets up, paces the dark, impersonal bedroom, he sits down on the bed again.

He doesn't fall on his knees weeping, he doesn't tear his hair out and wails.

But he drops his head in his hands.

Well.

Fuck.