Darcy could scarcely hold back his delight over his own good fortune when he happened to glance up from a completely unnecessary perusal of the menu and notice that Elizabeth was being seated at a table just inside the café.

It was as though the universe were conspiring with him on this day, not only allowing him to meet his future wife, but also to know how he might have botched things with her had he been left to his own devices. As if that had not been generous enough, she was now here, having unwittingly followed him to this spot.

A quick review of what he had Seen only a few hours ago recalled to Darcy that today would also be the day when Bingley would first rhapsodize about Jane. The opportunity of arranging things such that Elizabeth would be on hand to hear Bingley speak of his angel was too tantalizing to be missed. After today, the path he and Elizabeth were on would be very different than what his vision had showed him, so there was very little advantage he could take from his prescience aside from not stupidly letting her walk out of his life within five minutes of meeting her and not allowing himself to become a part of any misunderstandings between Bingley and Jane.

He would use his knowledge to guide the conversation so that Bingley would speak of Jane. From there, he hoped it would be simple enough that they should realize the coincidence and he would be seen early on to be supportive of the match. If an additional outcome was that neither Jane nor Bingley had to go through the pain of an unnecessary breakup, so much the better for all parties.

Of course, he must first persuade Elizabeth to join them. This gave Darcy a momentary pause, as he considered that she barely knew him and likely had very little or no information about Bingley at all, depending on whether Jane had shared any details of the encounter with her sister. If she had, then Elizabeth might react just to his mentioning Bingley by name or might be curious enough to join them. If he knew nothing else about the two sisters, he knew they were protective of each other

His mind made up, Darcy headed inside and approached Elizabeth's table. She seemed surprised to see him and hesitated at his proposal, but he did his best to put her at ease and to make it clear both that he wanted her to join him but not to make her uncomfortable or to feel pressured.

Though he watched her face closely when he mentioned Bingley's name, she gave not the slightest hint that she recognized it. Perhaps Jane hadn't shared any details of their meeting as of yet. He could well believe that the more reserved Miss Marchrend would decide to keep the matter to herself until something came of it.

In the end, she agreed to join him, and he was so pleased at the outcome that he offered his hand to her almost without thought. It was the sort of casual touch she would have welcomed from him towards the end of what he had Seen. Just that one touch of their skin was enough for Darcy to want to declare himself on the spot. Only the knowledge that she would think him quite deranged - and that he wished to provide her the sort of romantic courtship that she deserved - kept him from doing so.

Indeed, he reluctantly let go of her hand as soon as she had gained her feet and then turned to lead her out to his table, which he had been fortunate enough to secure on the shaded patio, an intimate space with only some ten or so tables, well-spaced and fragrant with the scents of the verdant blooms.

They were seated again mere moments later, Darcy assisting with her chair, again nearly without thought. He felt as though he had done so a hundred times before. He must be cautious to not go too quickly with her, to first establish a friendship that might more naturally develop into something more.

He was on the point of making an opening conversational gambit when she preempted him with an observation about the cafe before asking whether he went there often.

Honesty, he thought to himself, having spent the morning attempting to capture as much detail as he could of his vision and calling out behaviors that she had objected to so that he could hopefully avoid those moving forward.

"More often than I really ought to," he confessed, "considering my staff at home are more than willing, not to mention capable, of making me a lunch to bring along. But there is something very appealing about getting away from the office, or so I justify it."

Her eyebrows lifted and he worried how he might have come across. There was no point in pretending he wasn't wealthy, but he did not want to give off the impression that he had any notions of wealth conferring any particular status or sense of entitlement. There was equally no point in pretending it didn't ease his life and provide him with advantages both material and intangible, but he hoped never to come off as a snob for simply having been lucky enough to have been born to wealthy parents to have had his strange gift of Second Sight bestowed upon him.

But Elizabeth made no comment and betrayed none of her thoughts, instead returning her attention to the menu and inquiring whether he had any recommendations.

So, they spent some time in light-hearted and easy conversation, he taking the opportunity to get to know something about her eating preferences, though he was not surprised to hear that she did not particularly care for pork.

It was disconcerting to Darcy to feel he already knew her so well but to still be speaking with her as though he knew her not at all. The thought tugged at him, but in the present moment, he did not feel as though he had the time to give it the full consideration he would wish and so put it aside, or attempted to.

When their conversation made a turn towards speaking of their siblings, he felt another pull at his conscience as he pretended to only now be learning that she had two sisters. Was he not being dishonest in certain regards by failing to disclose what he knew? But how could he disclose such a thing to her?

Something I should probably mention to you is that I have a strange gift of Second Sight and, oh yes, I had an incredibly detailed vision about us meeting and eventually falling in love and you accepting my marriage proposal. Is not that the most interesting thing you've ever heard? Anyway, why don't we skip past all of that, and you just start wrapping your mind around the fact that you're destined to be mine?

How well he could imagine her not taking that well, on multiple levels. She was, without doubt, an independent thinker and her own person with her own inherent value. To treat her like a possession or to even imply she had no free will was the sort of stupidity he had displayed in his vision.

After all, was anything now a foregone conclusion after he had changed the script and was now embarking a new and unknown path? He had never had a reason to make such a choice before when presented with some foreknowledge of what was to unfold. One did not inquire of an investment how it felt in having been made, after all.

He was saved from these impressions - for they were really just fragments of more fully-formed ideas in that moment - by the arrival of the waiter. Darcy ordered by rote, his usual green tea and burger and fries, using the brief window of time allotted to him to try to get a grip on his racing thoughts.

There would be no easy answers in this moment, Darcy decided. All he could do now was to muddle through the rest of this encounter as best he might, and to get to know Elizabeth in actual reality rather than to assume everything his vision had shown him was accurate. After all, she had disliked him for much of his vision and had been reticent with details early on. How much of that was truly down to her likes or dislikes and how much was what she had chosen to show him in those moments when she had despised him?

He was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he scarcely noticed when the waiter departed, and it was not until he realized a silence had fallen over their immediate vicinity that he came fully back to himself. Hoping she had not noticed his inattention, Darcy asked a question that he would ask any new employee when trying to get to know them.

"So, what are some things you like to do in your free time?"

He calmed a little when she responded openly about reading and people-watching and taking walks. These were all things he had - known? Seen? - her to do in his vision. Before they could pursue the topic very far, Bingley arrived.

Darcy stood to greet the other man, unsurprised that Bingley's greeting was effusive, as though it had been years since they had last met rather than sometime within the past week or two.

He remained standing for a moment as Bingley seated himself casually, inquiring in a wholly artless manner as to who Elizabeth was. Darcy performed the introductions in what he hoped came across as a natural manner, retaking his seat as Bingley instantly started to rib him, claiming to be his only friend and calling him a stick-in-the-mud.

When Elizabeth glanced in his direction, presumably to see how he was taking Bingley's teasing manners, he rolled his eyes, but smiled, trying to indicate that he was not bothered by it. A few moments later, he was able to return the favor, with a not-at-all-subtle dig at Bingley's perpetual tardiness.

It was a calculated statement. Darcy wanted to bring Bingley around to talking about Jane, and the other man did not entirely disappoint, hinting that he had formed a new attachment recently as a direct result of being late.

Feeling a strong sense of déjà vu, Darcy allowed himself to ask the same question that he had in the vision. As he did so, he could not help but look briefly at Elizabeth, wondering how this conversation would continue to alter his present reality.

"Who is she this time?"

He had hoped Bingley would sigh and dreamily intone something like, "Her name is Miss Jane Marchrend." But that was not to be. Instead, he called her an angel and explained how they had both been running late and, as a result, hailed the same cab before they had each begun to selflessly argue that the other should take it.

From there, the conversation kept going astray from where Darcy wished it to go, what with asides regarding Bingley's work and interruptions from the wait staff and Elizabeth's amusement over Bingley having ordered the exact same thing as Darcy had, down to requesting there be no pickles on his burger.

When Elizabeth laughed off his observation that she had set her own course for choosing her meal, she had made a passing reference to their earlier conversation regarding siblings and Darcy once again attempted to stick an oar into the conversational current, hoping to turn it towards the outcome he so desired.

"We were speaking of our siblings earlier, weren't we? You said you have two sisters?"

Elizabeth responded in the affirmative and even went so far as to share her sisters' Christian names, but this caused no comment on Bingley's part, what with Jane being such a relatively common name and, just as Darcy had done in his vision, making no connection between an Elizabeth Bennet and a Jane Marchrend.

Just as Darcy had begun to despair of bringing about the revelation he so desired, Elizabeth mentioned in an off-hand manner that Jane was not a Bennet. It was Bingley who pursued this, seeming suddenly more interested in the friendly conversation.

Upon the revelation that Jane was, indeed, Jane Marchrend, Bingley looked as though someone had struck him a solid blow to the head, leaving him dazed in the aftermath.

"I don't suppose there can be many Miss Jane Marchrend's in the world."

She agreed, clearly puzzled, but the pieces were coming together for everyone now. "Are you saying you know my sister?"

"I believe so! For Miss Jane Marchrend was the lady of whom I was speaking earlier, who I met and shared a cab with."

Elizabeth exclaimed over this revelation but Darcy, who could not help but watch her closely in that moment, thought he detected a hint of disquiet in her eyes. It seemed clear that Jane had not mentioned the encounter to her, but was that the thing that seemed to trouble her? Or was it perhaps something else?

Mentally reviewing the conversation, Darcy winced internally as he realized it may have sounded as though Bingley were a womanizer, what with Darcy's question about "who was she this time" and Bingley's tendency to gush about any new acquaintance, much as he had done with regard to Jane.

Well, he could attempt to repair the latter if that were the source of Elizabeth's discomfort. Only Jane could speak to the matter if it were the former. If it were something else altogether, well, who knew what the remedy might be. But Darcy could do nothing about a concern that he did not understand and, anyway, Jane and Bingley seemed as fated to be together as he and Elizabeth were.

That thought brought him up short, for what if today's work had laid some sort of foundation that would ensure Jane and Bingley did not end up together? Darcy had manipulated and forced the conversation to ensure his own ends but had not thought for even a moment that there might be other, negative repercussions for anyone else involved.

It was a sobering realization but, in the moment, it seemed there was very little he could do. Resolving to consider the matter further, Darcy returned his full attention to the ongoing conversation between Bingley and Elizabeth.

They were, perhaps predictably, speaking of Jane. The information that was being exchanged was information that Darcy already possessed, so he allowed himself to attend less to the content and more to Elizabeth's reactions to what was being said.

She seemed more than a little dubious about Bingley or his intentions at the outset of the conversation, but Bingley was, as always, unselfconscious in his manner, remaining friendly and open and utterly guileless. Nor did he veer into inappropriate areas of questioning, asking only questions that one might ask of any new acquaintance. Darcy could practically feel Elizabeth opening up to his friend, wondering when or whether the two had become close in the timeline that his earlier vision had portrayed.

By the time their lunches started to appear at the table, they had moved on - at least in theory - from the topic of Jane and segued back into a lively discussion of books.

Darcy rejoined the conversation at this juncture, admitting he had been late to work this very morning as a result of staying up far too late to finish reading Airborn, by an author named J.M. Richardson.

Bingley hooted with laughter at this admission from his overly-fastidious friend and Darcy good-naturedly took the subsequent ribbing before responding with mock severity, "Unlike you, however, I do not see that any particular good or ill came from my tardiness. I have had a productive morning so far."

Bingley waved this rejoinder away with an airy swipe of his hand. "Bah, you are always productive so that means very little. Perhaps what you ought to consider is making more time in your life for some play."

"What did you have in mind?" Darcy asked, dryly.

"Oh, you know!" Bingley said, now seeming discomfited and casting a swift glance at Elizabeth. "Perhaps find a pretty girl, take her out for an evening of dinner and music."

Darcy hid a smile, knowing the other man well enough to realize that Bingley's mind was firmly made up to ask Jane out and, furthermore, had likely been on the point of suggesting they make it a double-date. Bingley was forever attempting to ensnare Darcy in his own romantic entanglements, although what his motivation might be at any particular instance seemed to vary.

Likely, he had been about to suggest a double with Jane and a companion of her choosing, but had not wanted to say anything in front of Elizabeth, lest she be her sister's choice - as Darcy knew she would be.

Here, again, was another wrinkle that Darcy had not fully considered when he had steered the conversation in the direction of revealing the connection between Bingley and Jane. Elizabeth was certainly too aware of the potential harm that could be done to her reputation if she were to be seen around town on her boss' arm and would decline any invitations that might be issued.

Bingley's deflection, weak as it was, provided Darcy with at least the opportunity to comment rather mildly that he had not anyone among his acquaintance whom he would wish to spend an evening with.

Save for Elizabeth, of course, he amended silently, relieved when Bingley did not pursue the topic further.

It was Elizabeth herself who came to his rescue a moment earlier, commenting how much she had enjoyed Airborn when she had read it and asking Darcy which parts he had found particularly compelling.

Conversation continued in this vein for the next fifteen or twenty minutes and then it was time to be leaving in order to return to the office for the rest of the day's obligations.

He and Elizabeth parted with Bingley at the front door of the café, Bingley turning to hail a cab from the queue that was always parked nearby on the main road and Elizabeth and Darcy naturally falling into step together to cover the short distance between the restaurant and the office building.

"I hope Bingley did not offend you in any way," Darcy offered gravely, wanting to make sure he took advantage of the short walk. "With the way he spoke of your sister, I mean."

Elizabeth peered up at him sideways, not breaking stride as she regarded his face. "No," she answered, "I was not offended. Honestly," she sighed. "I am not even surprised to hear my sister described as an angel. I will tell her about today."

Darcy nodded. "Of course," he said automatically. "If I may say so, I think you will find that Bingley is - well, harmless, I suppose. He does tend to be enthusiastic about things, but he is an honorable man.

"I know you do not know me well enough for that statement to be worth very much, but if it helps to put your mind at ease at all, then I am glad."

Elizabeth thanked him softly but did not make any further comment until they were standing at the door of the offices and Darcy was pulling out his key to unlock the door and hold it open for her to proceed him.

"I will tell Jane what you said as well," she declared then, a hint of a teasing smile hidden in the corners of her mouth. "And then will leave it to her to determine the value of your assurances. But for my part, I think I believe you."

On that note, she was in the door and striding towards her desk with the confident air of someone who had made a decision about which they felt very sure. Darcy followed more slowly, knowing that he would have to be very careful in the coming days and weeks, for he was well and truly in uncharted territory now and had no notion how he was going to proceed.

He had her good opinion, thus far, or seemed to at any rate. But the distance between that and anything of a more romantic nature seemed suddenly to stretch and expand exponentially.

Suddenly feeling anything but certain, Darcy headed into his office and attempted to prepare for his upcoming meetings - one with Mr. Dyson and one with Elizabeth herself. In both instances, he knew, he must be firmly engaged in matters of business. Anything else was just going to have to wait.