Darcy, after being pleasurably distracted by his excursion at the QuickaSnack, arrived at his informal meeting with Charles six minutes behind schedule. It was catastrophic.

Charles was sprawled out on TOP of his desk, lounging like a lizard on stacks of insurance claims, peering at a gimmicky woven bracelet with the stupidest smile on his face. Darcy stopped his hurried gait and promptly dropped his briefcase.

"What the hell?"

"DARCY!" His friend yelped before falling off the desk. He scrambled to his feet with an only slightly embarrassed expression. "I- I thought you weren't coming."

His partner cocked an eyebrow. "I was five minutes late."

"But YOU'RE never late! For.. anything! And it was six, by the way."

"I apologize. Was there anything in particular you thought we should discuss, Mr Bingley?"

Charles smiled and waved him off. "Jeez, stop with the formalities! C'mere." He brought his taciturn friend into a one-armed hug. "It's been too long, man."

Darcy shook his head bemusedly. "You just saw me last week."

"Yeah, I guess, but you were delirious and I didn't get to stick around after you woke up."

He winced. "Sorry about that, by the way. You know me and planes."

Charles laughed jovially. "Do I ever! Remember spring break, flying down to Sicily? I thought we were gonna have to pump your stomach or something!"

This coaxed a smile from Darcy. He started to relax, but he still wanted to get a little work done too. "So," he said, clapping his hands together, "What project did you have in mind? Remember, this is your first project for Austen, better make it worthwhile."

Bingley's eyes lit up. "Oh! Right! I wanted to take you there, actually!"

"Why? Scope out the property?"

"Yes, exactly!" He had the grace to look a tad flustered now. "And to.. m-meet the help."

"Help?" Darcy asked, "I thought this would be a solo project?"

"It is! But… well, I needed someone.. specialized in this field. Um. Yeah. Anyway, just wait 'til you meet her, you'll understand what I'm talking about."

Darcy's eyes narrowed at the female pronoun. Bingley tended to lose his head when it came to dealing with the 'fairer sex'. And now he was running a business— he couldn't afford to have his opinions swayed. But, it wasn't Darcy's job to judge. It was to advise. He sighed, heavily.

"OK, let's meet this mystery helper."

"Excellent! Yes! You won't regret this!"

From Bingley's over enthusiastic smile however, Darcy was beginning to believe he would.

Nevertheless however, he dutifully followed his old friend out of the temporary Austen headquarters and down a few streets. Bingley insisted on walking, saying it was only a few blocks and less carbon-emissions and couldn't Darcy stand to lose a little weight, I mean know you're in great shape but you'll never get abs sitting around reading memos all day and guzzling espressos until you pass out at your desk at 3am. Darcy held up one finger to silence him— not his pointer, for anyone wondering. But Bingley just laughed and said they were almost there anyway.

'Almost there' turned out to be a large, squat building made of plaster and bricks. The outside was choked with ivy-covered murals; blocking blue lettering read 'P - A Y P - N', which may have once been the establishment's name. Darcy was about to ask why they were meeting at an abandoned property when one of the doors opened and a dark haired beauty stepped out.

The woman wore a simple blue sweater over her leggings and boots, a thin crystal necklace hanging down around a thick swirl of deep brown curls: rich and dark and just bordering on black. She had a sculpted face, soft deer-like eyes, and rose petal lips that glowed with a smile as she caught sight of Bingley.

Ohhh boy, Darcy thought, glazing over at his friend, who had donned a familiar lovestruck expression, Here we go again.

"Hi," the woman said timidly, stepping down to meet them. She moved with an unpracticed grace, as if she was trying not to step too loudly or hurt the pavement.

"H-hi," Bingley all but whimpered, his eyes pinned on hers while he tried not to trip over his tongue.

"Hello," Darcy said, unwilling to endure any awkward silences, "I'm William Darcy, the lawyer for Austen."

"Pleasure to meet you," she said politely.

"Oh! Where are my manners!" Bingley said, snapping out of it, "This is Rosa Jane— ah, I'm sorry, Ms. Bennít— she'll be showing us around the property and giving us input."

"You can call me Rosa Jane," she offered kindly. Bingley smiled appreciatively.

Darcy frowned in thought. "Bennít, you said? Any relation to, uh, Elize Bennít?"

Rosa Jane looked surprised. "Uhm, yes, my sister. Do you know her?"

"Yeah Darcy, do you?" Bingley asked with arched eyebrows.

"A- A little. She gave my sister a tour this morning." And her eyes and quick wit are quite possibly the only reasons I like this god-forsaken hick town. But he didn't say that. What he did say was: "Ms Bennít, would you mind relaying to me exactly what kind of project you had in mind for the property? My partner here has been uncommonly vague."

She clasped her hands. Business mode. "The project would be to renovate Playpen, the building, that is, into a facility better suited for the community's needs. The property under contract includes about 12 acres of land, 3 of which are currently unused and would be fashioned into a park for the children."

"Children?"

Just then, two rambunctious toddlers burst out of the doors, swinging backpacks at each other while a disgruntled mother tried to herd them out the door.

"Now you listen here— NO, JULIAN, STOP SWINGING THAT— what did we say about making a mess for Mommy, hm? What did we say, David? David! BOYS LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU ALMOST KNOCKED OVER YOUR POOR TEACHER!"

Indeed, the rowdy boys had almost barreled into Rosa Jane, but at their mother's reprimand, they stopped and looked as wide eyed and horrified as adults did in car crashes. "Sorry, Miss Rosa," they said in overlapping apologies.

"It's quite alright," Rosa Jane said kindly, "Just please watch where you're going next time, okay? And David— here let me zip that up for you. Wouldn't want you to lose that drawing you worked so hard on."

"Thanks, Miss Rosa," the little boy said smilingly, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. She smiled back down at him. "See you tomorrow— I had fun today."

The two boys repeated the farewell back to her, then continued on their way, the overworked mother shooting Rosa Jane a grateful look on her way by.

Darcy stood, silently, watching the spectacle. Honestly, what was Charles thinking? A daycare teacher, working on a real estate project? He really was taken in by a pretty face. Charles however, did not notice how his friend was oozing disapproval, but was watching the lovely teacher with a bashful kind of grin.

"So sorry about that," she said, blushing slightly before regaining control, "But that actually goes to show what a good idea this project is. Building a park like the one in the Netherfield plans— what we're thinking of calling it, after the Playpen's founder— would be immensely good for kids like that to run around in and learn about things the hands-on way."

"Burn off the extra energy?" Bingley suggested helpfully.

"Exactly, Charles!" She beamed, "And it would allow the unused land to be finally, well, put into use! It would be wonderful for everyone involved!" At this, her heart-melting smile turned shy again. "At least, I think so."

"And I agree!" Bingley exclaimed. "And, I don't think I told you before, but thank you for the bracelet. I really like it." He grinned bashfully, and looked to be blushing like an anime protagonist.

Rosa Jane smiled sweetly at him, then seemed to remember that Darcy was still there. "Oh, uh, Charles came in earlier to review the property, and he caught us in the middle of craft time. He was fine with waiting a bit and the kids loved him."

Charles held up his wrist for Darcy, displaying a gimmicky woven friendship-bracelet, like the kind made at a third grade summer camp. Little wobble designs of pink flowers were interspersed with green and blue triangles. Darcy was unimpressed, to say the least.

Rosa Jane seemed to pick up on this. She smiled again (she smiled too much) and cleared her throat. "Let's get started on the tour then shall we?"

Bingley was obviously about to spring forward and probably offer her his arm or something, but after one look at Darcy's face, he hesitated. Bingley smiled at Rosa Jane. "Um, will you excuse us for one moment?"

She nodded. "Of course. Please come inside when you're ready."

As soon as she was in the doors, Darcy pulled his friend close. "Are you joking?" he hissed, "Pro bono for your first gig? I thought you were going to do an apartment complex, or a build up a framework storefront! This is unprofessional, even for you!"

At this, Bingley seemed to get legitimately angry. "WHAT?! Did you even hear what she was saying? This is a gold mine! Just because a project helps people doesn't make it a bad idea!"

"A park. For your legacy in this company, you want to build a park. This is… utterly insignificant. We're wasting our time here. "

Bingley pinched the bridge of his nose. He breathed out slowly, and Darcy thought he could hear him counting to ten. Finally, when he opened his eyes, gone was the bouncy boy-wonder and in its place was a businessman, ready to crack down.

"Austen is looking at purchasing not only this property, but several apartment buildings surrounding it. The last census showed an influx of young parenthood in California, with 22.5% of the population being under 18 years of age, and moving rates to this region of Cali were up 36% last year. There are lots of young parents here, and they need a good environment for young children. This town is equidistant from at least 4 major cities; all within an hour's drive. If they drop off their kids here, chances are they'll spend around town- good for the local economy, which means we can drive our prices up. The Netherfield project is NOT JUST 'PRO BONO', it has serious ramifications that benefit not only Austen, but also the community, the local businesses, and the children themselves! Studies have shown that when good schools and good parks are in an area, new stores spring up, and the population increases soon after! Haerdford is far from a pesky little nothing, you will NOT talk to me as if I am below you, and this project is FAR FROM INSIGNIFICANT!"

Silence.

Charles straightened his collar passive aggressively. His chest was still heaving. Darcy made a little 'wow' motion with his mouth and let his eyebrows briefly jump to his hairline. They regarded each other, warily.

"I'm… sorry, Charles. I wasn't thinking it through like that," Darcy said, only somewhat awkwardly.

"'S'alright," Bingley sniffed, his shoulders slowly falling back down. "I've just been wound up this week. Too many people… questioning.. my credentials."

"What! You've studied real estate for years!"

"I know!" Bingley shot back, angry (but not at him), "Yet because I'm fresh faced and friendly, people assume I'm an idiot! I'm sick of it!"

A pause. "I.. am truly sorry to have made things worse for you. I wasn't looking at the bigger picture."

"Yeah, well…"

Another brief silence.

"Do you remember the last time I yelled like that?"

"Shit, must have been… second year? Thanksgiving brunch- you had been behind in classes and your parents just got the divorce?"

"Oh gosh, yeah," Bingley laughed, "I was so stressed."

"Your face was red for like an hour."

"That poor waiter!"

"She shouldn't have spilled your margarita. You had worn your nice pants that day, too. What a shame."

"Still. I shouldn't have broken that window."

"And the lobster tank?"

"Aw jeez, the lobster tank."

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was the amicable kind, the one shared by old friends relieving treasured memories. Darcy smiled. He hadn't realized he missed having friends like Charles.

"Hey, you want to head over for the tour? I think Ms. Bennít's still waiting for us."

"Sure. Lead the way, Mr. Big-Shot-Lawyer."

"Oh no, after you, Mr. Ego-Inflated-Head-of-the-Branch."

"Jerk."

"Wuss."

"Devil's Advocate."

"Mama's boy."

They grinned at each other. Then, shaking hands as if they WERE the serious businessmen their job titles implied, they headed inside, ready to scope out their new project. Netherfield. Why not. At last, Bingley was let to do what he saw fit. That might have been the moment things began to shift a little in Haertford. The moment Netherfield park was let at last.