Missing Moments…

Summary: Bingley cannot so easily forgive Darcy for the interference that he caused between him and Jane. In consequence Bingley demands an explanation his friend. Darcy's relationship with Elizabeth is about to be revealed…and a few deeper truths.

Time line: Mainly bookverse, set when Darcy comes back from London as he previously promised, but seriously doubted. At this time his aunt had already told him about her encounter with Elizabeth and Darcy's hope is restored, thus his return to Longbourn/Netherfield.

Apart of the Pride and Prejudice Moments Series:

Unspoken Moments

Missing Moments

Drunken Moments

It's actually not a series since all of them could be read individually, but they all have a similar feel to them and there are a few references to the other stories. The only reason I called it a series was because I thought it would look clever with the linking titles. Although, chronologically Unspoken Moments would be the first installment.

A/N: I apologize if my writing style in not in true form according to both Jane Austen's writing style and style adopted at that time period. I live in the present where we grossly butcher any eloquence in our language through poor use or slang. I'll try my hardest. Yes, I have read the book and watched the mini-series and watched the newer version, which I enjoyed immensely.

Disclaimers and Whatnot: NON-SLASH…eww

I guess I can kind of own Pride and Prejudice since Jane Austin is dead, but that would be imprudent and stupid of me, so I don't. This is just for fun.

-O-

Bingley lay sprawled on the bed that Jane had occupied while ill during her stay at Netherfield the previous year. He was greatly entertained by the idea that he could still smell her clean, lightly floral scent upon the sheets and wafting in the very air even though he knew full well that the servants had taken care to thoroughly wash the sheets and went through great pains to clean the room. Still, his lungs were full of it nonetheless, making his chest swell with happiness. It did not matter that he had spent the last few months in disappointment because at the moment he was engaged to the most perfect person on Earth. His future seemed clear as day, just because he knew that Jane Bennet would be in it.

He continued to smile contentedly, hardly even noticing the hand painted wallpapers that adorned the room, instead content to more or less focusing dazedly into space. His euphoric attitude prevailed steadily until one of his servants announced the return of Darcy, who was now occupying one of Netherfield's many drawing rooms. Bingley's countenance darkened, but at the same time his resolve hardened and so he followed his servant to 'greet' his unexpected guest.

Darcy, seemingly out of character, was sitting on the sofa by the fire and Bingley, also sensing the offness of the situation, remained standing near the mantle piece. It was almost as if these two great men had traded places.

Holding on to his manners a little longer Bingley said, "I was not expecting you back from town so soon. I was sure you would give an excuse for your delay."

"No, I felt a need to honor my promise," Darcy began awkwardly, no doubt sensing the barb, then adding quickly, "I offer my sincere congratulations. I know that you and Jane shall be very happy together."

"I thank you for your continual concern for my felicity, though you did seem to be of different opinion the year previous," Bingley replied icily.

"Now Charles--"

All of Bingley's pent up emotion broke the wall he had put against them. His light and easy temperament prevailed through hard times in the past, but he was still only human after all.

"No!" Bingley bellowed. "No, you know now Charles wants to know why his best friend, his must trusted friend would suddenly turn into a traitor. What other plots have you kept against my happiness? Must everyone be as miserable as you!"

"I was the one who convinced you to return," Darcy snapped.

"And you were the one who took me away from it in the first place. Jane and I could have had so many more months together if you had not interfered."

Darcy's quick temper soared to meet that of his friend's. The atmosphere of the room seemed charged from the clash of will between the two.

"I have already given you my reasons and gravest apologies on this matter," Darcy interjected with only an air of distant civility.

Bingley's hot reply turned to ash in his mouth and he was forced to turn his face away for several long moments. When he turned back his mood was cooled and his anger replaced with emotion.

"That is hardly enough Darcy. You have no idea, not the faintest understanding of how those months felt like. All those months of doubt and emptiness. And for what? Your objections to the family? Your deep seated prejudice against everyone who has not had such a fortunate birth as you?"

Darcy stood up so abruptly and with such fire in his eyes that for a moment Bingley thought that there was as much of a chance of Darcy exiting and riding off into the night as it was for him to suddenly produce a sword and challenge him to a duel to the death. However, Darcy made no further movement or any attempt to reply.

Bingley continued, "I think I am entitled to the truth Darcy, an explanation why I have been forced to endure this suffering. You at least owe me that."

Darcy advanced several paces to stand but perhaps seven inches of his friend. Their comparative heights forgotten as each stared the other down, glaring coldly.

"Do not lecture me on the pains of love," Darcy spat.

"And what would you know of the matter? You have always been cleverer than me Darcy, but this is hardly a matter you can understand through books."

In a sudden wave of fury Darcy seemed to lose all his years of practiced restraint.

"Do not speak of what you cannot know!" Darcy began to walk off, but at the last second, spun back to face him. "Do you want to know the truth? Although misguided, my concern for you was indeed sincere. Had Miss. Bennet been as indifferent as I had thought then I would have saved you from such torture that you could not even begin to fathom its depth."

This explanation was met with silence. Bingley was shocked and incomprehensive. Darcy's anger too had melted away, but left a much rawer emotion, an ache that had yet to be healed.

"I have been much kinder to you than I have towards myself," Darcy sneered, continuing in little more than a whisper, "Can you imagine how you would have felt if Jane had rejected your proposal? No, of course you cannot, all you will ever know is the great happiness you must be feeling now. Let me enlighten you to the sort of man you would be reduced to had you not been bestowed with such a blessing.

You would be in a perpetual state of confusion and you begin to doubt every decision or feeling that you ever had. Suddenly, you feel as if your entire life was utterly worthless and that nothing you ever did amounted to anything. You are a pathetic excuse for the man you once were.

Everything is a haze of an ever changing motion. Anger, disappointment, shame, despair, humiliation, bitterness, and sorrow are all churning inside you and each is expressed in the single course of a day, an hour, a single second even. Then, when you are left spent of all emotion, you find yourself in a void of desolate loneliness and utter hopelessness.

Yet you still can only think of her. You try to comfort your weary heart with memories of her, but all you can hear is her rejection and see her face as she turned her back on you."

Darcy trailed off into silence as if coming to the abrupt realization and then horror at what he had just said. Darcy had not only spilled his deepest secrets, but had unwittingly revealed his weakness and vulnerability. Feeling uncomfortable and ashamed, he began to make a great stride to leave, but Bingley's softened voice made him pause at the door.

"How did you truly find out that Jane returned my feelings?"

Darcy's hand was poised over the handle of the drawing room door and did not even look back as he made his reply.

"I met Miss. Elizabeth while at my Aunt's Rosings Estate."

He turned the handle and taken a step out into the darkened hall when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You can't walk away from this Darcy."

Facing his friend and giving him a sad smile he said, "Believe me Bingley, I know."

He made another move to leave, but Bingley continued to hold him back and upon further insistence, allowed himself to be lead back to a seat by the fire.

"Is it…is it Elizabeth?" Bingley asked tentatively.

After several long seconds, Darcy nodded. "I'm sure you shall further rebuke me for my pettiness and for my abhorring hypocrisy."

Bingley shook his head. "No Darcy, not at all…" then suffering from a bout of nervousness that often lead to rambling he said, "well yes, actually for you to propose to a woman with all the same circumstances that you tore me away from must be the pinnacle of being hypocritical, but I really do forgive you. You were looking out for me."

"I sense that this pardon is more for pity than actual merit."

"Perhaps, but I do not believe it much matters since you have succeeded in extinguishing my anger."

Darcy snorted. "Oh yes, a very hard feat considering your stony countenance."

Bingley gave a nervous chuckle before saying, "I am actually ashamed of myself Darcy and I do apologize. If you don't want to discuss the matter any further I understand, but dear god how in the world did this ever transpire! You hadn't shown any signs, nothing. If anything you were colder. I had thought the only relationship the two of you would ever develop was in slighting each other upon every meeting. I would have never…" Bingley coloured and quickly checked himself. Remembering his manners and the need to uphold his social standards, he gave a hurried apology and fell silent.

Darcy felt the tension slowly dissipate and his spirits rose farther than it had in months. It felt…it felt good and relaxing to finally tell someone about his experience. It was a relief. Even though Bingley could not fully empathize with him, he at least could give him comfort and sympathy rather than outright pity. Somewhere deep inside the old Darcy, the Darcy who had not yet met Elizabeth Bennet, he felt a stab of shame wash through him. Revealing such a weakness in character would have been nothing short of an atrocity, but now that he had met Elizabeth he now saw that it was okay to lay down his pride and confide in someone because by accepting your weakness you can more easily overcome it. This was the new Darcy, the much better Darcy.

Smiling to his friend, he shook his head. "No, you were right. I at least owe you that," he sighed as he began to recollect his memories and allow them to play before his eyes, "It would be a lie if I was to say I knew the exact moment I fell in love with her, but it wasn't long after my first acquaintance that I began to admire her. Of this you know since you sisters posed many a question on this subject, which, although guarded, I still answered. I know that the first real roots of it were created during her stay at Netherfield. With such close and constant contact it was probably inevitable. Miss. Elizabeth interested me more than I ever cared to admit. I sought to carefully conceal my emotions from everyone, including myself. I worked hard not to allow myself to lose any of my better judgment. I made sure to count every minute I talked to her, to limit the amount of times I looked at her, and to keep a steady attitude at all times. On the day she left I was convinced to remain distant the entire day and basically avoided her. When she was about to leave I felt myself safe and allowed my defenses to loosen. As she stepped into the carriage I felt such an urge to touch her, to be allowed to feel the contact between ourselves that before my rational mind could overrule such nonsense, my hand was enclosed about hers in order to help her into the carriage. The inquiring look she gave me quickly brought me back to my senses and I dashed off as fast as I could. Still, I did not regret the physical contact and for that I was ashamed.

Then there was your ball here in Netherfields. I was not too concerned due to my customary aloofness that I adopt during most social occasions and I did not feel myself in danger. I was relieved that you took the hosting duties by yourself, but felt more alone than I had ever thought I could at a ball. In the sea of strangers and character deficient country bumpkins I saw her immediately and was nearly ready to cling to her as readily as I would do you. She had been so beautiful that night, probably in the hopes of impressing the treacherous Wickham. I daresay there was a reluctant part of me that pretended that she had done it for me. The whole evening was spent in longing to go and just talk to her. As the night continued I began entertaining the idea of dancing with her. A great battle ensued. Would she notice? Would anyone? Was this rational? I think I finally convinced myself that it would be rude not to do so, considering that we had shared the same household for four days. This eased my mind and allowed my chest to flutter. The dance however, ended up being yet another unmasked war against each other's character, but still I could not hold it against her, instead I lay every scrap of blame to Wickham and gladly fantasized about his eradication from the face of this earth. I was disappointed that Elizabeth could not even stand with me for a second dance. I could not even further talk to her as she had seen fit to hide herself the rest of the evening.

By that time I probably though of Elizabeth more than was healthy and when it was known to me that she was at Rosings I made haste to throw myself in the jaws of my annoying aunt. This was the primary reason why I had dragged my cousin along. It was not hard to contain my anticipation in order to hide it from my cousin since any thought of my aunt was depressing in itself. Now that I look back, I was more or less of a stalker. I followed her Bingley! I followed her around the park to see where she preferred walking just so I could accidentally meet her."

Bingley hid his smile behind his hand. "That is rather creepy Darcy."

Darcy ran a hand through his hair remembering the lengths that he had taken. "I know, I know." Darcy gave a weak chuckle, "I was quite jealous of my cousin and outright furious at my aunt. My cousin's social skills have always been better than my own, having an older brother he needn't show as much propriety towards everything. Miss. Bennet was much taken to him. My aunt, obsessed with my bachelor status, forced me to constantly be in conversation with her. My anger against them stung with every minute, every second they stole away from me that I could have spent better recommending myself to her. I saw her run through the park to avoid the rain and I followed. That's when I proposed," Darcy's eyes misted over and Bingley knew that he'd get no further explanation of the event, but instead could almost see it play out through his two frosty blue windows and into his soul. Bingley was uncomfortable with intruding with this privacy and desired to change the subject.

"So I suppose I won."

Darcy, pulling out of his morose thoughts, stared at him quizzically. "At what?"

"Proposals."

"Well, I asked first."

Bingley made sure his voice and gestures indicated jest. "And got rejected!"

"Still plucked up the courage first and asked in a more dignified and manly way than you did," Darcy added scathingly.

"Oh yes and stooping down as to becoming a stalker is highly dignified," Bingley grumbled, but a blush was creeping around his ears at the thought of his first attempt at proposing to Miss. Jane Bennet.

Darcy, slightly guilty, tried to console him. "Alright, you weren't that bad. In fact my first try must have been much worse since it's such a blur to me. I think I just stood there playing with my gloves and declined anything she offered me. At least your dialogue still retained some normality in it, including manners. I just burst in the house as if I owned the place and remarked about the home furnishings before leaving. It was an atrocity."

Bingley was immediately comforted. "Darcy tongue tied? I hardly know what to make of it."

"We are all fools in love."

"Yes I suppose so." Bingley then looked thoughtfully to his friend who was gazing unseeingly out the window. "Why are you here Darcy? What has changed?"

Darcy returned his gaze to meet that of Bingley's. "I want to…perhaps if she makes any indications…"

Bingley didn't need him to finish. "Are you sure that's a good idea Darcy?" Bingley knew too well the pain of broken hopes.

Darcy gave two quick nods and gave no further reply to that question, instead choosing to address the one previously given to him. "She visited Pemberly coincidently when I returned with some business with my steward. There were some trying moments, but I couldn't feel any of the hate the she had professed on our last meeting and more recently I was given a visit from my aunt who had called on Miss. Bennet where she sought to have the rumors of our engagements contradicted. How she found out I haven't the slightest idea, but so quick was she to rant and rave about Miss. Bennet terrible manners and selfishness she called on me immediately after and related every little detail of their meeting to me."

"And?"

The corners of Darcy's lips twitched upwards, foundations to a triumphant smile. "I am happy to say that Miss. Bennet was successfully able to patronize my aunt with every answer she gave, but the one that gave me reason to return and give me hope in renewing my proposals was that when asked to promise in never going into an engagement with me Miss. Elizabeth Bennet flat out refused," Darcy swallowed, "She might have done it just in spite of my aunt, but I think that there might still be a chance."

Bingley clapped a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "I think there's a little more than that Darcy! I'll help you just as you have help me."

Darcy looked positively alarmed.

Bingley shrugged. "Well it all worked out in the end. I have been invited to lunch tomorrow at Longbourn after which I think the girls shall be in want of a good walk. I believe I could keep a few of them with me in order to give you and Miss. Elizabeth a bit of romantic privacy."

Darcy grinned. "Sounds like a plan, which takes most of the pain on you, so much more preferable to me."

Bingley whacked him with a pillow, earning a punch on the arm. Bingley wished to retaliate but decided that Darcy would need his wits about him on the morrow.

-O-

"Mr. Darcy has returned Master Bingley."

Bingley jumped out of his chair immediately and hurried down to the drawing room. He was buzzing with anticipation. Darcy had somehow disappeared and did not return with him to Netherfields when he left the Bennet household. Practically flying down the corridors, Bingley arrived swiftly to the familiar drawing room.

Bingley instantly surged in the room to a startled Darcy who had been enjoying a brandy by the fire. So immersed was he in his own thoughts that his expression of shock continued to adorn his features as he stood to meet Bingley. When Bingley saw this the thought that she had rejected him a second time belatedly flitted through his mind. His eagerness shriveled up inside his stomach. He stood in silence, his head fumbling for the right words, but Darcy, finally pulling out of his reverie, received him warmly, cutting across Bingley's feeble greeting.

Bingley blinked, then blinked again, but Darcy remained serenely by the fire. So it wasn't a dream, but definitely not normal. When had Darcy ever acknowledge anyone's presence before first acknowledging his? Furthermore, when had Darcy ever stopped to specifically give a codial greeting while writing a letter, Bingley mused as he caught sight of the nearby table currently sporting several crumpled pieces of papers and eight destroyed quills.

Bingley's eyes narrowed in suspicion when Darcy moved and succeeded in blocking his view of the contents of the letter. The realization kicked in at once. Bingley had just caught Darcy in an unguarded movement and, as they were such good friends, Bingley fully intended to take full advantage of this rare occasion.

"Pray tell what has brought about such a change in you Darcy?" Bingley queried slyly. Darcy's answers would be quite entertaining.

"I cannot truly say I understand what you mean," Darcy replied smoothly, understanding perfectly the role he was playing for this game the two friends entered.

"I daresay you are trying to hide something my brooding friend."

"It seems you are indeed very daring tonight Bingley."

"And would it be out of my place to press a little farther?"

Darcy smiled. "It has already been established that it is your right to do so if you so wish it."

Bingley noticed that the statement held nothing of last night's animosity and felt his confidence rise. It was time to cut out the meaningless banter and arrive to more pressing matters.

"I think you are rather happy at the moment Darcy," seeing the bemused expression on the other's face, Bingley went on to explain, "Your character almost bars your happiness to be expressed through mirth and the fact that your current attitude is nearly foreign to me I must conclude that you are in a rare moment of exceptionally good humor."

Darcy's smile widened. "And if I am?"

"I do believe I would once again ask the reason for this momentous occasion."

Darcy knew the answer Bingley desired and decided to also take advantage of his friend and use his eagerness against him by prolonging it as long as he possibly could.

"How well is our relationship Bingley?" Darcy asked, feigning utmost seriousness.

Bingley's eyes twinkled, foreshadowing what was going to be an embarrassing moment for Darcy, "Are you questioning my trustworthiness or my gender preference?"

Apart from the glare that Bingley was sure he could physically feel burning through his clothing, Darcy took it in stride. "Why, are you starting to regret your choice in marriage?"

Bingley laughed heartily. He could get used to this 'happy' Darcy.

Darcy pretended to be affronted. "And now you laugh at me! You wound me deeply Bingley. It seems that both my questions have only been a source of ridicule. I am aggrieved indeed."

Bingley fought off a second wave of laughter and said, "Yes, I am sure your heart bleeds, but I suppose I shall answer your first question since I hardly believe the second to be an appropriate subject matter for gentleman such as ourselves. I shall endeavor to answer adequately. Please forgive me if I cannot so eloquently describe it as you would. I believe we are very close friends and I have a deep respect for you and your opinions. Even though our characters are so different they seem to level each other out and we do not so easily tire of each other since we are not so similar. All and all I am happy to say that I think us the best of friends, although not in the stereotypical sense but in our own unique bond we share."

"So we are like brothers then?"

"Well we annoy each other enough."

"Then I believe," Darcy grinned, "that my being engaged will not affect our relationship at all, other than becoming more legal."

Bingley clapped a hand onto Darcy's shoulder and whooped, showering his 'brother' with congratulations. After the excitement had died down and the two had retired onto a sofa to discuss future prospects, Bingley was struck by a strange thought.

"You know now that we are brothers and all, am I seriously supposed to call you by your first name?"

"I should think that it would be the customary gesture after we are married."

Bingley shuddered. "Will you be offended if I refrain from doing so? It is just so…weird. It almost feels improper. You can't be anything but Darcy for me. Besides Fitzwilliam is such a…" Bingley noticed the raised eyebrow of Darcy, causing him to change tactics will all speed. "It just takes getting used to.

Darcy snorted. "Elizabeth doesn't like it too much either." Finally feeling the day catching up with him, Darcy stood and begged to retire for the night. He had made his way to the end of the darkened corridor when Bingley's call caused him to stop in his tracks.

"Darcy where do you think you are going? Your guest quarters are in the west corner. I do not wish to doubt your intelligence, but you are currently going in the opposite direction."

Darcy thanked the heavens for the cover of the darkness that hid the blush creeping along his cheeks. "I intended to go to the other guest quarters. I uh, fancy that I will still be able to smell Elizabeth's sunny scent lingering in the room she stayed in during her stay here." With that he scurried away so as not to see the incredulous look he expected Bingley to give him.

If Darcy were to look back however he would see the gentle smile spread across Bingley's face. As for Bingley, he was only mildly disappointed that he would not get the room to himself probably until after both their marriages.