Love and Other Accidents

by paperclipz

Done! A modern P and P. Darcy and Bingley are musicians trying to find material for their new album in a rural college town...where they meet the Bennet twins who are surviving college together. Lizzy's a photographer, and Jane's a med student.

17. Day Three: Christmas Eve

Author's Note: Sorry, everybody! I know it took me a pretty long time to update this time. Also, I didn't mean to leave you at a cliffhanger. That one was accidental. The one for Day Four is purposeful, so I'll give you fair warning. The next update might not be for a while, but it's because I want to have most of Day Five written before I post Day Four. So I don't leave you at a cliffhanger for a long while. I've been trying to write a little bit at a time, but it should be by the end of the month.

Also, credit and thanks goes to Eyes-of-Pearl for suggesting I bring back Charlotte's painting. It was a great idea, and I had to use it.

7.

Lizzy stepped out of her room the next morning at almost nine o'clock, rubbing her eyes and yawning, her brown hair wild and almost curly around her head, her face flushed and her lips swollen with sleep. Even with the crease her pillow had left on her cheek, Will couldn't help but think that she was beautiful, especially when she dropped her hands and raised her bright, long-lashed eyes to blink at the bright room, a slight frown between her eyebrows.

"So--you're awake now," Giana said, sitting on the couch and scowling, a mug of coffee between her hands. "Finally."

"You're awake," Lizzy replied smiling. Sleep still clung thickly to her voice. "Usually you sleep in a little more. Sometimes we have to throw stuff at you to wake you up."

"I've been up forever, because someone woke me up at seven," Giana sniffed, turning her face away primly. "Someone who moved about, shook the entire bed, and stole all the bloody covers."

Lizzy grimaced apologetically. "Sorry."

"Will," Giana said, turning toward him quickly where he stood leaning against the window. Will wasn't sure if she had caught him watching them both. "Would you like to switch roommates? I like yours loads better than mine."

"Hey," Lizzy scolded quietly, mussing Giana's dark hair and stepping around the couch toward Will. "Keep that up, and you'll hurt my feelings."

Will smiled, watching her walk toward him, her arms stretched out wide. The bright polka dots on her black pajamas bounced with each step, and her hair fell out of her face as she angled her face up towards his. He set his coffee mug on the windowsill so that when she hugged him, tightly, around his waist, he could return the favor. There, with her arms around him, her chin on his shoulder, and her chest pressing into his with each breath, Will felt immediately much better. Then he couldn't keep himself from sighing. Whenever she was with him, he couldn't quite remember how he managed without her.

"Hi," Lizzy said, leaning into him. Even her weight felt reassuring against him.

"Good morning," Will replied. His voice always seemed so quiet after hers.

"That too," she said and reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled as she turned toward the kitchen and watched as she almost immediately banged into the Christmas tree hiding behind the piano. They both leapt forward and grasped its top branches to keep it from tipping over.

Lizzy turned to him slowly, over the star that Giana had glued together for the top, eyes wide and mischievous. Will expected her to laugh then, but instead, she grabbed him tightly, her arms around his neck, and kissed him stoutly on the cheek. "Merry Christmas Eve!" she told him cheerfully. Before Will had a chance to a steal a deeper kiss, she was heading toward the kitchen again, where her sister was cooking eggs over the stove.

"Morning, Janey," said Lizzy, giving her sister a one-armed hug and grinning.

Jane smiled a little, still watching her eggs. "Morning."

"You seem to be short one fiancé," Lizzy told her, finding a mug and picking up a coffee pot.

"He's upstairs, taking a shower," Jane replied.

"Yeah?" said Lizzy, stirring sugar into her coffee and glancing around. "Where is everybody else?"

Giana waved from the couch, eyebrows raised mockingly high. "Right here."

Jimmy was sitting just next to her, smiling fondly.

"I was referring to the other redhead, the manager, and the baby," Lizzy retorted, sipping her coffee and winking at Will to show him that she'd noticed his attention.

"We haven't seen them yet," Will replied.

"Hmm," said Lizzy thoughtfully, glancing behind her. Will realized she was looking at the clock on the microwave. "Well," she added, opening the cabinet and drawing out a box of cereal—so mangled that it made Will smile, "we should see them soon, especially if the guest cottage doesn't have a well-stocked kitchenette."

"Zarine will probably start to complain soon," Giana agreed.

"Yeah, probably," said Lizzy smirking as she poured her cereal into a bowl, "but I was thinking Fitz."

It occurred to Will that Lizzy had absolutely no idea the effect she had on a room. She didn't know that the room had been completely silent before she'd entered it. Everyone had sat quietly sipping from their respective hot beverages. The only noise had been Jane's work at the stovetop. They had all minded their own business before Lizzy had arrived and stuck her nose into it. Not that it was a problem, of course. Will rather preferred things this way.

"Ooo, Lizzy," said Jane, turning partway around from the stovetop.

"What?" Lizzy looked over her shoulder, peering at Jane's hands. "You burn yourself?"

Jane was smiling, a smile that looked remarkably like her sister's, in Lizzy's most unguarded moments. "No. It's just—I've got something upstairs I want to show you. Would you mind watching the eggs while I get it? It won't take me long, and this is almost done anyhow."

Will wondered mildly if they ever fought—the Bennet twins. He couldn't imagine it, not a long fight certainly, never a loud one: Jane was too placid, Lizzy too protective--of her sister, at least.

"Sure," Lizzy replied, leaving her own breakfast to tend to Jane's. "What are we making?"

"Scrambled eggs," Jane explained, opening the fridge and pulling out a bag of grated cheddar. "With cheese. Charlie likes them really well done."

Lizzy glanced at her sister sharply, and Will realized that while she didn't mind cooking for Jane, fixing Charlie eggs was pushing it. But all Lizzy said was "Got it. Scrambled. Cheesy. And kinda dry."

Will suspected that Lizzy had always been able to hold her temper for her twin sister. Or perhaps she had to learn. Perhaps he could learn. For Giana.

Will glanced again at his sister and her boyfriend on the couch, and he was rather proud of himself when it hardly bothered him at all, seeing them hold each other's hands. He knew intuitively that he was being absurd about all of it; he didn't need Lizzy to tell him so. He supposed it didn't help that the boy looked rather like Wickham in his younger years: the light, scraggly hair; the pointed chin; even the same loping walk.

Then again, it might not be that either. It might have more to do with the fact that there was no way of knowing how much Jimmy knew about Wickham. Or how the boy would handle it if he found out. When he found out. Will wasn't quite sure how well he might've reacted if a girl had told him a story like Giana and Wickham's. But then again, Will was forced to admit that he had been a bit of a bastard when he was Jimmy's age. If he didn't admit it, Charlie would—

Jimmy glanced up and noticed Will's attention. Will made an effort to smile, but Jimmy wasn't sending him the same patient stare that Will had grown to expect over the past two days. Instead Jimmy was frowning, just slightly, just enough for Will to frown back.

The front door crashed open to Will's left, and Fitz strode in, his red hair in several directions, his daughter sitting on his hip. "It's Christmas Eve!" he declared, "and Santa's little helper has come to visit."

Zarine, Will noticed, was wearing a miniature Santa Suit that seemed to be made entirely of flannel. She even had a small red hat to complete the outfit, one that she was currently trying to take off, her little fingers fumbling at the elastic strap under her chin.

Maggie came in behind them and shut the door, a brown shopping bag full of wrapped presents hanging from her hand. "I just want everyone to know that I had no part in Zarine's dress code today. Fitz found it, bought it, and fought Zarine to put it on her this morning."

Lizzy smirked, looking up from her eggs and watching Zarine's third attempt to pull off her hat. This one was successful. "You're going to be one of those dads who gets a cute little white convertible for his daughter's sixteenth birthday, aren't you?"

"I'll make sure that it has a roll bar, at least," Fitz replied pouting and struggling one-handed to put Zarine's hat back on.

"Stop it, Fitz," Maggie told him, coming to the Christmas tree to put the first presents under the tree. "If she doesn't want to wear it, don't make her. Otherwise, she'll start screaming again."

Fitz sighed heavily, looking at Zarine, who had apparently already had enough of her father that morning and was struggling fussily to get down. "What d'you think, Zarine? You think I should wear the hat?"

"Oh! How cute!" cried Jane. She was standing at the bottom of the steps, a magazine rolled in her hand, as she smiled at Zarine. Charlie was just behind her and grinning too, barefoot but already dressed to ski in a turtleneck and ski pants.

"Nice to know that someone here has good taste," Fitz grumbled, setting Zarine on the floor. In her new freedom, Zarine chose to walk under the piano toward her mother, grasping at the presents already under the tree.

"That's for tomorrow, babe," Maggie told her smiling.

Fitz made himself busy giving Jane and Charlie a warm welcome. "You got in! You're alive! We were worried there for a second."

"You were not," Lizzy retorted, turning around from the stovetop. "I was. That's why I called."

"Ooo, the eggs!" cried Jane, rushing in the kitchen to take over. Lizzy stepped out of the way just in time to let Charlie follow her, more sedately, to put one arm around his fiancé and to use the other to retrieve two plates from the cabinet. Lizzy returned immediately to her coffee, gulping down almost half a mug and popping some cereal in her mouth. While she was chewing, she looked towards Will and winked to let him know that she noticed his attention. He smiled slowly back but sat down at the piano bench to give his hands something to do. He tried to pluck out 'Palladio,' but he wasn't sure if he remembered it.

"We are so happy to see you, Princess Jane," Fitz was telling Jane at the stove. "Your presence was sorely missed."

Will still couldn't understand why Fitz had taken to calling Jane a princess to her face, but he knew from the glare Lizzy threw at him that it wasn't the kindest of endearments.

"Why?" Jane asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"We needed someone here to keep Lizzy in line," Fitz explained, and Will grinned as he watched Lizzy turn around, lift her foot, and kick Fitz in the butt. "Oww!"

"You deserved that," Lizzy told him curtly, picking up her cereal bowl and coffee mug with mock-decorum and grinning as Giana started giggling.

"Absolutely," Maggie agreed, guiding Zarine's hands gently away from the presents.

"Yesterday," Fitz continued spitefully, "there was a battle in the kitchen. Blood was shed. Homes were destroyed."

"Don't exaggerate," Lizzy said, halfway across the living room already. "We only lost a little Life. Cereal," she explained laughing at Jane's startled face.

"Do you see that box?" Fitz asked Jane, nodding at the mangled object that Lizzy'd forgotten to put away. "That was first casualty. Do you want to be responsible for what'll happen if we let Lizzy fight with Will again?"

"I don't think I could ever stop Lizzy from fighting with Will," Jane said, dishing scrambled eggs onto the two plates that Charlie was holding up for her.

"Good call, Jane," Lizzy said and turned to the couch's occupants, her hands full. "Hey, Giana—see that coaster?" Giana nodded; she even picked it up. Will shook his head slightly, amazed. He could never get his sister to help him without complaining. "Do me a favor? Can you put that in my mouth?" Lizzy asked, and Giana snorted but did it. Jimmy grinned at them both as Lizzy nodded her thanks, the wooden coaster between her teeth, and turned back toward the piano.

"Please?" Fitz asked Jane. "Try? For the sake of our sanities?"

"There's nothing I can do, not when they both like it so much," Jane explained, putting the empty skillet back on the stovetop and taking one of the plates from Charlie.

"You like it?" Giana repeated, turning to stare at Will and Lizzy open-mouthed.

"Sure, they do," said Charlie grinning, as Jane handed him a fork. "Otherwise, they would've grown out of it by now."

Lizzy had reached Will by this time, standing just in front of him and flapping the coaster at him. He took it gently from between her teeth and placed it on top of the piano so that she could set down her coffee mug and take a seat next to him.

"How 'bout it, Mr. Darcy?" Lizzy said grinning at him, and she tossed cereal into the air and caught it in her mouth. Will considered snatching the cereal mid-air; he wondered if it was worth the argument that would follow. "You like fighting with me?"

"I suppose," Will said thoughtfully, moving his fingers lazily through some broken chords. "If it's not in earnest."

"Yeah, I guess I kinda like it too," Lizzy said, settling herself a little more comfortably on the piano bench, a little closer to Will.

"You know," Jane said, removing a fork from her smiling mouth, "I never thought they'd admit it."

"Will, you starting to feel like a guinea pig?" Lizzy asked him with a mock-serious smile. "Because I'm starting to think there's a research project we don't know about—with all these various hypothesizes our colleagues seem to be throwing out."

Will smiled, and Giana said mildly, "I suppose that's our cue to stop teasing them."

"Bingo!" said Lizzy smiling over at her. "Point for Giana!"

Will continued to pluck out fragments of the tunes he could remember, fell in upon Moonlight Sonata, and noticed that Zarine had joined them.

"Hey, little elf," Lizzy told Zarine smiling, scooping up a handful of Life. "You want some cereal? Be careful, though—it's got sharp edges. And don't tell your mom—I think it has more sugar than you're allowed to have."

Will watched Zarine munch on the cereal a little, just enough to get the edges gooey, and then try to hand it back to Lizzy with very wide eyes.

"I guess you don't like it," Lizzy said with a sigh. "Bummer."

"It's because it doesn't have milk," Will told her with a small smirk.

Lizzy turned to him, chin raised almost defiantly, and said in her best English accent, "I don't fancy it with milk." Will laughed, despite himself. "Oh, the accent's that bad then."

"I suppose you might have to listen to me more," Will replied grinning.

Lizzy snorted, reaching for her coffee mug. "Not much chance of that."

"Lizzy!" said Jane, dropping her plate to the kitchen table with a clatter and scrambling up. "Before I forget, the magazine—"

Lizzy dragged herself to her feet, kissed the top of Will's head, and told him, "Be right back." She met her sister at the kitchen counter and watched Jane flip through the magazine brought from upstairs.

"Here it is," Jane cried triumphantly, holding the magazine up to Lizzy. Across the room, Will could just barely make out a portrait painting on the right page, laden with browns and blues.

"Oh," murmured Lizzy.

"'Oh'? Is that all you've got to say?" Jane asked impatiently with a wide smile. "Did you read the caption at the bottom?"

Lizzy wrinkled her nose and said with an apologetic smile, "Jane, I forgot to tell you: Charlotte submitted a portrait of me to the Cinderbells Gallery in New York, and they accepted it."

"You already knew?" Jane said aghast.

"Charlotte," repeated Fitz, frowning at his wife, as Maggie chased after Zarine. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"I didn't know that the gallery used that painting for an ad in—" Lizzy stopped to lift the magazine and read its spine "—Art and Antiques magazine."

"Beats me," Maggie said shrugging and handing Zarine to Fitz so that she could pull out the high chair out of the closet. "An old groupie friend, maybe?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jane said accusingly.

"Have you checked your voicemail?" Lizzy asked her sister. "Because you should have about a million messages there that go: Hey, Jane. It's Lizzy. Again. Got some good news to tell you. Call me back."

"Charlotte Lucas," Will explained to Fitz. "We met her at Rosings. Cropped hair. Blonde. Dressed almost exactly like Aunt Catherine."

Jane sighed. "I'm sorry. I've just been so busy."

"Aww, Collins' wife?" Fitz said grimacing. In her high chair, Zarine started to fuss, screaming much more loudly than Will would've supposed possible. Maggie poured some Cheerios in front of the baby to distract her. "You two are friends with her?"

"No, not anymore actually," Lizzy said happily.

"Lizzy, that's not nice," Jane scolded. "Of course, we're still friends with Charlotte."

"No, she's no longer Collin's wife," Lizzy told her sister.

"Really?" cried Jane delighted, and when Lizzy nodded, Jane hugged her sister so tightly that Lizzy laughed.

"Who's this Collins fellow?" asked Giana. "Why don't we like him?"

"Remember that little, bald guy that kept kissing Aunt Catherine's ass at Thanksgiving?" Fitz told her.

Giana frowned a little, trying to remember, and then her eyes and mouth grew wide. "He was married? Disgusting." Will noticed Jimmy laughing silently beside her.

"Well, technically, he still is," Lizzy said. "They've just separated for now. Charlotte was crashing at my place until the divorce went through."

"I can't believe I didn't know about this," Jane said, glancing over at the kitchen table as Charlie picked up his empty plate and Jane's and headed toward the sink. "Charlie, I'm not done yet," she said quickly, and Charlie looked down sheepishly at the eggs still on his fiancé's plate and handed it to her.

"I still can't believe he found someone to marry him," Giana confided to Jimmy. "He was this ugly, little runt of a man, who talked like a catalog and thought my aunt hung the moon."

"You're letting her stay in your apartment?" Will asked Lizzy, frowning.

Lizzy turned to him, not quite glaring yet, but Will knew that she was ready to do so, if needed. "You wanna fight about it?"

"Not at the moment, no," Will replied and half-smiled when Giana giggled.

"Then I suggest you don't try to tell me what to do with my own apartment," Lizzy told him sharply.

Will turned back to his piano keys, silent but worrying. Charlotte was the type of friend to ask for help, assuring that it would only be until she got on her feet, but then stay for months without helping with the rent. And Lizzy was the type of friend to let her.

"Will," Lizzy said, and when Will turned, Lizzy was smirking at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking. "It doesn't matter anyway. She's moving in with her boyfriend before New Years."

He smiled, not exactly comforted, because he suspected that there wasn't a very good chance that Charlotte would be able to keep said boyfriend for very long. But he liked that Lizzy tried.

Jane was in the kitchen, finishing her eggs as Charlie loaded the dishwasher, dropping her head to his shoulder. "I feel so out of the loop," she complained, and Charlie kissed the top of her head, right along the part in her red hair.

"Do you want to see Will?" Lizzy asked, picking up the magazine from the counter and walking to him. "It's the same portrait that we saw when we were snooping a couple years ago."

It was almost exactly like Will remembered it, the same bold lines shaping a face remarkably like Lizzy's, her hair around her shoulders, her stubbornness around her mouth. The only thing that he saw changed was that the eyes seemed less tired, more defiant.

"It's pretty good, isn't it?" Lizzy said, grinning at him.

"She has a good subject," Will replied, smiling slightly.

Lizzy rolled her eyes and started to sit down, but Giana said, "I want to see it."

So, Lizzy walked over and delivered the magazine, and Giana and Jimmy immediately bent over it.

"Oh," Giana said.

"It's you," said Jimmy, looking at Lizzy as she took a seat next to Will.

"She already said that," Giana reminded him.

"Oops," Jimmy said with an unapologetic grin.

"Yep," Lizzy replied, reaching for her coffee again and putting it back down with a grimace. "Boo. It's cold."

"You could get more," Will said, glancing at her as she ate from her cereal bowl sullenly.

"I just sat down," Lizzy reminded him.

"I'll get it then," Will offered, stopping his playing and beginning to stand, but Lizzy grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

"The benefits of this seat go way down if you leave," Lizzy explained to him smirking. "I didn't come over here because I like un-cushioned piano benches."

Will couldn't keep himself from smiling, widely, like a fool, as Lizzy leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Giana noticed, apparently. "Aww—look, Jimmy," she said. "Lizzy made Will blush."

"She does that a lot," Fitz agreed without looking up, trying to tempt Zarine with a baby spoon laden with something pureed and orange. "Didn't you see him yesterday?"

"Do we need to get up?" Will asked Giana. "Your Juilliard auditions are next month. Shouldn't you be practicing?"

"Don't tell her what to do," Jimmy said shortly.

Will was so shocked that he could only stare at the scowling boy for several seconds, and it took him a little longer than normal to notice that the room had gone silent around him, that most of its occupants were watching him. He glanced at Lizzy first, saw her bright, worried eyes, and looked back to Giana, who was telling Jimmy in her gentlest voice, "It's all right, Jimmy. I probably should practice; I've only got a few weeks."

Will got up quickly, taking Lizzy's mug with him, and relocated to the kitchen where Charlie and Jane shuffled out of his way. He was only mildly surprised when Lizzy followed him, her cereal bowl cradled in her palm, watching him dump out the cold coffee in the sink and pour her a fresh cup.

He set it gently on the counter in front of her, glancing over at the piano as Giana sat at the piano bench, her long fingers spreading over the keys and beginning a concerto that Will knew he should recognize but didn't. "I don't quite remember what you put in it," he told Lizzy, nodding at the mug.

"Thanks," she said, still watching him.

"Was I—" he began and stopped. "Was I being unkind? Belligerant? Unreasonable?"

"Nope," Lizzy replied. "That time, you were pretty reasonable. I've got no complaints."

Will glanced back at Jimmy, who was definitely frowning at him now. Will looked away, to Lizzy, who was also frowning. In her most worried way. "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," Will replied with a brief smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you normally don't ask," Lizzy said, leaning forward slightly. "Normally I have to just tell you."

"Scold me, you mean."

"Well," Lizzy said slowly, putting her bowl down next to her mug, "yeah."

Will looked back to Jimmy, but the boy had already turned away, watching Giana at the piano. Will turned again to Lizzy, when he felt her arms slide around his waist.

"Hey," she said, looking up at him.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Who loves you?" she asked, and it occurred to Will that she was trying to cheer him up.

Will smiled, kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "You do."

"That's right."

"Marry me," Will said hopefully, tucking a strand over her hair behind her ear.

Lizzy responded with a sly, challengingly smile. "Tell me what's really the matter."

Will only sighed heavily.

"Thought so," Lizzy said, kissing him quickly and letting him go. Will watched her pull her coffee mug toward her,the sugar bowl following soon after, and turn to him thoughtfully, her eyebrows raised and waiting.

But Will couldn't think how to phrase it, not without sounding like an complete idiot.

8.

Lizzy gasped and stopped so quickly that Will had to swerve sharply on his skis to avoid a collision. "Sorry," she told him, pulling off her glove with her teeth and groping into her jacket for her camera. "Hold on just a sec."

This was maybe the fifth time she'd stopped him in an hour. Lizzy knew she was probably beginning to wear on Will's patience (the others had skied off and left them behind hours ago), but once she noticed a shot—the mountain face cast half in a cloud's shadow, the other half in bright noonday sunlight, the snow sparkling under the trees—she really couldn't ignore it. When she'd taken half a dozen pictures, she turned and caught a three-quarter portrait of Will, his face angled up, the mountains looming behind him.

He turned to her, and it worried her that he didn't smile. He usually smiled. "Lizzy, what did you tell Giana?" he asked.

"When?" Lizzy chirped, returning her camera to the pocket inside her jacket. "There's a lot of things I've told Giana."

"This morning," he said. "When I went to get dressed. Both of you were on the couch."

Lizzy smirked. "I thought I saw you trying to eavesdrop."

Will ignored that. He didn't even roll his eyes. "What did you both talk about?"

"You," Lizzy said, and when she saw Will drop his eyes to the snow between his skis and nod slightly, Lizzy knew he'd already guessed as much. "Are you wanting a summary or a play-by-play?"

Will dug his ski pole in the snow next to him, drew it out, and looked in the hole he'd made. "I don't know."

Lizzy zipped up her jacket and started tugging her gloves back on. "I asked her if she knew what was wrong with you."

That was Will's cue to tell her, but as Lizzy almost guessed, he didn't take it. "What did she say?"

"That you didn't seem to like Jimmy all that much," Lizzy replied and heard Will tisk softly under his breath. "I said you didn't know Jimmy."

Lizzy chose not to mention that she'd also explained to Giana that the problem wasn't so much Jimmy himself, but the fact that Giana hadn't told Will about Jimmy. She'd also tried to explain that Will was hurt because his sister didn't trust him enough to tell him something like that, but she wasn't sure how well Giana had understood.

"That's true, I suppose," said Will, kicking his skis. The snow on their tops flew above their heads. Lizzy felt it settle coldly under the collar of her jacket, on the back of her neck.

"Oh, and she also asked me to talk to you again," Lizzy said, glancing up the slope.

"But you have spoken to me," Will protested. "On numerous occasions."

"That's what I told her. And because I refuse to play intermediary between two grown siblings for the rest of my life," said Lizzy, squinting up at the top of the slope, watching three figures up there ski to a stop, "I also told her to talk to you herself. So, head's up on that one; you might have a heart-to-heart coming in your near fut—well, shit," Lizzy muttered, as the figures at the top of the hill began to ski down toward them. "That trail," she ordered, pointing to their left. "Quick. Maybe they haven't recognized us."

Will sent Lizzy a bewildered frown, but he followed her, twenty meters across the hill, to the small trail carved, hidden among the trees. "Now squat down," Lizzy told him, ducking down next to a snowdrift, adjusting the branches in front of her to hide them better.

"Lizzy—" Will started impatiently.

"Squat down," Lizzy insisted, grabbing his arm and tugging him behind her. "You're the one they're going to recognize."

"Who?" Will asked, and Lizzy noticed him squinting at the figures through the trees.

"Them," said Lizzy, pointing out the three female skiers, two in black and one in pink. Lizzy focused on the one in front, gliding elegantly down the mountain, her violet scarf streaming behind her. "The Harpy and the Bingley sisters. I really don't want to deal with them right now, and I'm willing to hide to avoid them."

"It's impossible for them to have recognized us at that distance," Will scoffed behind Lizzy.

"How would you know? We've already established that you need glasses," Lizzy remembered him. "And I recognized them, didn't I?" Lizzy stopped and pressed her lips together tightly while the three figures skied directly past the trail opening. Lizzy let loose a sigh when not one of them looked over. "Besides, we know that Desi Harper memorized what your jacket looks like. I found her number in your jacket pocket, by the way. She added a lot of hearts. A disgusting amount."

"When were you in my jacket?"

"This morning. Right before we left. You asked me to find your wallet, remember?" Lizzy said, watching with relief as the trio skied the rest of the way down the hill without stopping. "I hope you didn't want it. Because I burnt it. Fodder for the fireplace."

"I'm trying to think—When could she have found the chance—"

"At the lodge yesterday," Lizzy reminded him, looking to make sure that Desi Harper and the two Bingleys had made it down the slope before standing straight and reaching up high to stretch her cramped quads. "When you hung your jacket in the lobby closet. She probably slipped it in when we went to our table and they were waiting for Caroline. Stupid Harpy," she muttered. "Harpy, the Hussy."

Will followed Lizzy as she shuffled back toward the slope. She noticed him watching her as her gaze followed the figures zip down the last of the slope and around the bend, out of sight. "I didn't want it. The number."

"Good answer," Lizzy said, looking over her shoulder so that he could see her smiling. "But that still doesn't mean that I want to see them.—Do you want to hide out at the cabin for a while? I doubt anyone's there. We could eat lunch and hit the sack," she suggested with a hint of a smirk.

"You want to take a nap already?" Will asked frowning. "You didn't wake up but five hours ago."

"Well, sleeping wasn't what I had in mind," Lizzy told him and laughed when she noticed Will's mouth drop slightly. "We've been dating for way too long for that to shock you. Come on," she added, shoving herself forward with her poles and starting down the mountain. "I'll race you back."

Will won. Which was fine with Lizzy since he had the key and had to unlock the door to the mudroom anyway. He was already at the bench, unsnapping the latches on his boots, his jacket hanging from a hook above his head, when she clomped in. He was kissing her, unzipping her jacket and pushing it off her shoulders before she'd managed to get her second boot off.

And for all his other faults, Fitzwilliam Henry Darcy was a very good kisser.

Lizzy laughed softly against his mouth, using her socked foot to shove the last unbuckled boot off her foot. Then she let him draw her to her feet, her hand cradling the back of his neck, angling his head toward hers, his arm clamped around the small of her back, pressing her to him. Will began to maneuver them toward the door that opened into the living room, and when they stumbled over a few discarded boots, Lizzy laughed again. Will kept them from falling, catching their weight with a hand thrown against the wall behind them, and Lizzy groped for the door handle, found it, and pushed it silently open.

Then, she broke the kiss, turned partway around. When Will tried to reclaim her mouth, Lizzy covered his mouth with one hand, then both of them, so she could listen. She heard the murmur of the TV, some sort of talk show, and then:

"Shit!" A boy's voice. "Your feet are like ice!"

"I know," replied another voice. A girl. A British girl. "That's why I'm using you to warm them up?"

"Jimmy," Lizzy mouthed to Will, "and Giana."

"Is that all I am to you?" they heard Jimmy ask. "A foot-warmer?"

Will glared at Lizzy over her hands to let her know how much he wasn't enjoying the situation. Lizzy moved one of her hands from his mouth to her own to muffle her laughter.

"Absolutely," Giana replied. Do you know how many boys I had to test out to find you? You've just the right warmth. Here, behind your knees."

Will's shoulders slumped, and he scowled first at the small crack between the door and the wall, then at Lizzy, and then at the floor.

"I guess I'm okay with that," Jimmy replied.

There was a brief pause—Lizzy guessed that meant that the couple in the living room was kissing, but she was hoping Will wouldn't notice. "Well," Lizzy whispered, as quietly as she could, "do you want to go in there and eat? Or just go?"

Will grasped Lizzy's wrist and pulled her hand from his mouth, kissing her palm gently.

"After all," they heard Jimmy add, "I'm just dating you for your hot accent."

Lizzy grinned and pointed at herself. "Me, too."

Will rolled his eyes, on the verge of letting himself smile, and sat on the mudroom's bench again. Lizzy collected his ski boots—dark green and black, with silver buckles—and held them out to him. From the annoyed look on Will's face, Lizzy guessed that he had figured out that the quieter moments meant his sister was kissing her boyfriend.

"No," Lizzy heard Jimmy say abruptly.

"Why not?" Giana complained.

The kissing sounds were audible now, and Will's face darkened accordingly. Lizzy wondered if she was going to have to figure out a way to hold him back.

"Giana, no."

"Noone's here, Jimmy. Come on.—Oof."

From the sound of things, Lizzy was pretty sure that Jimmy had sat up and Giana had fallen off him. To distract Will's intent listening, Lizzy pushed his ski boots into his hands, and Will looked up her with a worried frown.

"Yeah," Jimmy said slowly, "but if we get caught, you're the victim, and I'm the sex offender. Okay?"

Lizzy mentally applauded Jimmy, and Will distractedly began bending the buckles out of the way so that he could pull his boot back on.

"I'm sorry about my brother."

Hearing Giana sound so serious, Will looked sharply up at Lizzy standing above him of him, and she smiled softly, comfortingly, and stroked his cheek.

"Jimmy?"

"Will doesn't bother me," Jimmy replied, and Will scowled at the partially open door as if he was planning to bother Jimmy, just for that.

Giana was almost laughing. "Liar."

Lizzy heard Giana kiss Jimmy again, and so did Will. He half rose from the bench, but Lizzy pushed him back down and pointed to his boot.

Jimmy amended, "Well, yeah—but he's not at the top of the list."

"You let me know who's at the top of the list," Giana said with a smug bravado, as Will placed his boot on the floor quietly and raised his foot to shove into it, "and I'll beat them up for you."

"Liar," answered Jimmy sadly, and Lizzy turned to the door, worrying.

"Don't say that," Giana said sharply.

"It's fine, Giana."

"It isn't fine."

In the half-instant of silence that followed, Will was up and side-stepping Lizzy so that he could burst into the living room announcing, "Jimmy, we're going to go ski together."

"Will, no!" Giana snapped, and Lizzy hurried to catch up with him.

When she reached the living room, Will was standing over the couch, over both of the kids, Giana open-mouthed and furious, Jimmy looking frustrated and resigned.

"We're going skiing," Will repeated to Jimmy.

"Will, don't be a shit," Lizzy told him, crossing her arms, but Will was watching Jimmy, who was looking back with a set jaw and a glare that almost matched Will's.

Then Jimmy stood abruptly, looked from Will to Giana, and walked across the living room and through the door of the room he shared with Will.

Giana was on her knees on the couch cushion, leaning over the back of it, watching her boyfriend walk away. "Will—"

Will glanced at Giana, waited for a moment, watching her as she scowled, and then he turned to Lizzy, starting "I'm only—"

"Will, no—" Giana cried, jumping to her feet. She stood just about at Will's shoulder, but both her fists were clenched, and her chin was raised defiantly. "Why the bloody hell do we have to do whatever you feel like? What makes you think that you can take Jimmy out and try to scare him away? What the bloody fuck is wrong with me—that it's okay for you to be happy with Lizzy but I can't be happy with Jimmy? What is it?"

Will tilted his head forward to stare at his sister, glanced at Lizzy, and then back again, trying to say "I—"

"I made one mistake, one," Giana reminded her brother, eyes narrowed. "Granted it was a rather impressive one, but it was mine." Lizzy glanced at Will. He was paler now, his mouth only slightly open. "Jimmy had nothing to do with it. And I'm older than I was, and I'm smarter, and Jimmy knows, and he doesn't care. So why do you? You bastard, you bleeding idiot, you—"

She was crying now, even with her teeth almost bared and her eyes narrowed to slits, and Will took one step forward. "Giana," he began worriedly.

Giana stepped back, tossing her hair from her face. "No, you can't fix it, Will," she snapped. "I don't bloody well need you to fix me. I can manage. You don't have to bloody well have to tiptoe around bloody Wickham. Jimmy knows, he doesn't care, and I love him for it, you bastard." She took a deep breath, paused just long enough to wipe a tear from her cheek with her fist. "You're my brother. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

Lizzy noticed that Jimmy was standing in his bedroom doorway, a long black sock hanging from either hand. He was beaming, happier than Lizzy had ever seen him.

She glanced at Will next, noticing his frown, his worried eyes, his mouth open and vulnerable, and she took his hand and squeezed it sympathetically.

Giana was striding to Jimmy, her chin lowered determinedly. "I love you," she told him fiercely. "Did you know that?"

Jimmy nodded, hugging her as soon as she was close enough, a sock still dangling from either hand. He kissed the top of her head and told her, "I love you too."

When they started murmuring to each other, Will turned to lean his weight against the couch, eyes averted again and frowning, holding Lizzy's hand tightly. Lizzy brushed his hair from his face and waited.

"I wasn't really…" Will told her. "I was only going to talk to him, man-to-man and such. Try to get to know him better. I would have been good," he promised, looking anxiously into Lizzy's face.

She smiled. "I know."

"Am I really so much of a tyrant--?" Will began to ask, but before Lizzy could answer, Giana had turned from Lizzy and was looking at her brother, a little bit defiant still but more concerned.

"I'm sorry. Didn't really mean it," she explained and paused to think about it. "Well, I didn't mean all of it anyway."

Will nodded at her, half-smiling to reassure her, and Giana tried to smile back.

"Do you really want to go?" Jimmy asked Will, his hand in Giana's.

"Please," Will replied with a sheepish half-smile. "If you don't mind."

Lizzy wasn't sure, but she thought Jimmy grinned suddenly and then rubbed his mouth to hide it. "Sure," he said and sat down on the nearest armchair to put on his socks.

Lizzy hugged Will tightly, because he looked like he needed it. When she felt his chin drop to her shoulder, she told him, "We're re-assessing the roommate situation while you're gone."

Will drew back, alarmed.

"Oh, let's," said Giana, taking the tissue that Jimmy was offering her and wiping her eyes. "I want to sleep in a bed where I won't lose the blanket."

"Besides," Lizzy told Will, "you're neater."

Will shrugged and nodded.

When Jimmy and Will had gone skiing down the trail toward the run and Lizzy and Giana were packing things up in their room, Giana asked quietly, "Is he all right? Will, I mean."

"Hmm," said Lizzy thoughtfully, folding Giana's pajamas and dropping them in her duffle. "You went kind of overboard and hurt his feelings. I'd give him a hug maybe, when he gets back."

Giana stuffed her clothes further into her duffle, frowning, looking exactly like Will when he was worried that he'd done something wrong.

"He'll get over it," Lizzy assured her, picking up one of the turtlenecks Giana had thrown over a chair and folding it. "This time next week he'll be proud of you."

Giana turned to Lizzy grinning. "He'll just say it's your influence."

Lizzy snorted, scooping three more shirts off the floor.

"It's true," Giana said smugly. "Two years ago, when we were here, he wouldn't stop talking about you. Kept telling me what a role model you'd be."

"Cute," Lizzy said with a grimace.

"If I could pick to have any sister in the world," Giana said quietly, not looking at Lizzy, "it'd be you."

Lizzy stared at Giana, not sure what to say, except "Thank you."

"Why won't you marry him, Lizzy?" Giana asked her, hitching her chin upwards to look at Lizzy. "Seriously now."

Lizzy sighed. "I'm not ready to be a wife," she said, "and Will is definitely not ready to be a husband."

"Then, why you tell him that you will marry him someday?" Giana asked. "That's really all he wants."

"That is not all he wants," Lizzy protested. "The second I tell him that I'll marry him, then he'll be pushing me to set a date and plan a wedding and pick a house and move and—"

"He wants to be sure that one day, you won't leave him so angry that you never come back," Giana explained. "That's really all he wants."

"Well, then he should ask for me to promise that," Lizzy said, glancing at the ring on her right finger and away again as she picked up a pair of jeans from the floor. "I can give him that much."

9.

Maggie Fitzwilliam was the only person Will knew who could turn the holidays into a matter of democratic diplomacy. While Giana was practicing piano that morning, Maggie had called everyone together in the living room to vote on when the celebrations should occur. The verdict was a Christmas Eve feast ("Which means Christmas Day leftovers," Lizzy said with a wide, lazy grin) and Christmas morning for opening presents ("No Santa this Christmas," Maggie informed her husband. "Aww," Fitz protested. "No," Maggie insisted, "because last Christmas, you scared Zarine.").

Since Lizzy and Giana were on hand in the cabin, they helped Maggie make dinner. Being the kind of cook she was, Giana was limited to chopping vegetables and setting timers, but with her help, Lizzy and Maggie were able to turn out a turkey, a ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, macaroni and cheese, peas, lots of cookies, and a gingerbread house. Lizzy even made her eggnog, her "infamous" eggnog as Jane dubbed it. Will hadn't quite understood what that meant until Lizzy scooped herself and Fitz a thick, creamy cup after dinner. Almost immediately following, the pair of them became extremely giddy. They vented this giddiness by playing with Zarine on the floor and quickly managed to work the three of them into quite an excitable state.

Perched in an armchair wither her briefcase open in front of her and handling supervision, Maggie lamented, "We're never going to get her to settle down tonight."

"Sure, we will," Fitz assured her, pausing in his current monster imitation: on his hands and knees, teeth bared, red crest fluffed as high as it could go. "She'll be so worn-out that she'll be asleep before we put her to bed, you'll see."

"No, what's going to keep you up isn't me and your dad," Lizzy told the baby in a loud whisper. "It's all the cookies we've been sneaking you."

"You gave her cookies?" Maggie said gaping, but Zarine only looked up at her mother, open-mouthed, and laughed. Lizzy, Fitz, and Will laughed with her.

"What's so funny?" asked Giana, emerging from her room with a sizable stack of wrapped presents to put under the tree.

"Baby Zee," replied Lizzy lazily, scooping Zarine up and cradling the baby back on her back so that she could be tickled more easily. Zarine laughed and squirmed, and Lizzy stopped, waiting for the baby's face turn toward her, mouth open, before tickling her again.

It always amazed Will—Lizzy's ability with children. With a mother like hers, there was no possibility of Lizzy inheriting any maternal instincts at all, but still… If her cousin had delivered Wickham's child, Will could very well imagine that the responsibility of raising it would have fallen to Lizzy—

"Cut that out," Lizzy told him with a stern, wry grin. She lowered the baby gently to the floor and watched Zarine totter over to her father.

"What?" Will asked startled.

"Imagine me as a mother," she replied, raising her chin and wrinkling her nose. "Especially while I'm tipsy, That's bound to be bad luck or something." She lay back on the rug, her legs crossed, her hands behind her head. Her hair spread out around her; colors danced in and out of it in the firelight. When Jimmy passed, following Giana with the rest of the presents, she grinned toward him. "I told you that you were giving him ideas, Jimmy."

Jimmy stopped, eyebrows raised and rather worried, looking from Lizzy on the floor to Will above her on the couch.

"Don't mind her," Will told the boy smiling. "She doesn't mean anything."

"What?" Lizzy snapped, sitting up abruptly and launching herself at the couch. Will caught her hands grinning, just before she managed to smack him. Of course, she didn't give up yet; she began grappling with him instead. "Don't tell people not to pay attention to me."

Will noticed that Jimmy had already wandered off toward the tree, and Giana was taking the wrapped gifts from his arms.

"You shouldn't tease Jimmy," Will told her, grinning wider as she pushed against him, so hard that he shifted back slightly and she found room to put her knee on the couch.

"Pots and kettles, you punk," Lizzy snorted, now leaning all her weight into him, trying to force him to collapse under the strain, but Will held out, still grinning at her but trying not to be smug. Trying not to let her catch him being smug, since it would only make her more upset.

"Damage fees, children," Maggie said sternly, and Giana giggled as Lizzy sighed, throwing her weight to the side so that she fell into the cushions beside Will, her head tucked into his shoulder, their hands still linked.

"Boo," Lizzy said scowling.

Will grinned against her hair and bent to kiss her forehead. "Marry me."

"Don't boss me around," retorted Lizzy.

Will watched Lizzy for a moment, noticing her nose wrinkled and her chin raised high. He smiled and resettling his arm around her shoulders. "All right."

"You seem kind of mellow, Will," Fitz said, lying on his back, legs bent, balancing Zarine on his shins. She was giggling at the game. "You sick or something?"

Will frowned, not quite sure what his cousin meant, but Lizzy just stuck her tongue out, saying "Leave him alone. He's just had a long day."

"Long days usually make Will cranky," Fitz replied miffed, lifting his feet slightly so that Zarine squealed and held on.

"Don't drop the baby," Maggie warned.

"He's happy," Lizzy said, re-adjusting in her seat so that she was nestled more snugly against Will's side, her arms around his waist, her chin on his chest as she smiled up at him. "Aren't you, Mr. Darcy?"

If he thought about it too much, it would bother Will that she would only act this way—abashedly possessive, and physically affectionate—when she was somewhat intoxicated. So he didn't think of it. Instead he merely took her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

"That must be a yes," said Maggie, grinning and shuffling through a stack of magazines in her briefcase,

"Mags," said Fitz, picking Zarine off his legs and shifting to a sitting position, his daughter in his lap, "come play with us."

Maggie glanced over, smiling, a magazine resting in her palms.

"Zarine and I will give you a cookie," he promised, grabbing the baby's hands and helping her stand up in front of him.

"I'm working, Fitz," Maggie protested grinning.

"Aww, but it's seven o'clock. On Christmas Eve," Fitz protested.

"If you have to work this hard," Will said as Lizzy snuggled closer, now practically in his lap (not that he was complaining, of course), "We should hire you an assistant."

Maggie grimaced, and Will wondered what kind of assistant they could get her to tolerate.

"I'm almost done. I just need to finish a couple magazines."

"Can't it wait?" Fitz whined.

"Come on, Will," said Lizzy straightening up and peering into Maggie's briefcase. "If I pin her, you can take the magazines and bury them somewhere."

"Uh-oh," said Fitz, glancing back at Maggie.

"Don't you dare," said Maggie, eyes narrowed. "Do have any idea how difficult it is to get mock-up copies of these magazines—"

"Yeah, kiddo—so you know," Fitz said, shuffling on his knees after Zarine as the girl trotted over to investigate the additions under the tree, "we don't threaten the contents of Maggie's briefcase. Not if we want to live."

Lizzy sat on her heels, sighing. "Fine."

"It really won't take me long," Maggie assured them. "It's just—all these magazines have requested interviews, and since some of us," she said, looking straight at Will, "have a hard time playing nice with strangers—" Will started to scowl, but Lizzy took his hand and kissed his knunkles, smirking. "—I've decided to take only one. But that means I need to choose."

"Workaholic," taunted Fitz, as loudly as he dared, shaking a small Christmas package under Zarine's ear.

"Hey," Maggie snapped back, "this is your livelihood as well as mine."

"Well, it's not like you can make a call tonight," Fitz replied. "Or even tomorrow."

"This," Lizzy told Will smugly, her head on his shoulder as they watched the other two, "is why you and I are never going to work together," and Will laughed.

"This isn't the only thing I've got to get done," Maggie told her husband.

"I'm starting to like Lizzy's burying idea a little better," Fitz said, stopping Zarine from pulling the paper decorations off the Christmas tree.

"Should we step in, do you think?" Will asked Lizzy.

"And do what?" Lizzy replied grinning. "Start threatening to take away Christmas presents?"

The front door opened. A draft of cold air flew in, and a figure followed it, one so well-bundled and heavily laden with garment bags that Will didn't recognize her at first.

"Jane!" cried Lizzy happily and sprang from the couch to help her. Despite being taller than Lizzy by several inches, Jane only just managed to raise the garment bags high out of her twin's reach. That didn't keep Lizzy from standing on her tiptoes and trying to grab the exposed hangers out of her sister's hands. "You know, Janey, you're not helping me be helpful."

Jane took a step back, kicked the door closed, and glared. "Lizzy," she warned. "Please."

As Lizzy turned around, Will worried that her feelings had been hurt, but she was only grinning wryly. "Ooo, watch out, everybody—Jane's in a bad mood," Lizzy said, clasping her hands behind her back and strolling to the couch.

"You get more Christmas presents or something?" Fitz asked Jane, grabbing Zarine just before she managed to wander off. Zarine didn't seem to like that; she struggled against her father's arm.

"Yes," Jane said, striding across the room toward the stairs. "Well…"

Lizzy dropped back into her seat next to Will. "Yes, well, you kinda forgot something."

"What?" Jane cried worriedly, looking behind her, assuming she'd dropped something along the way. "Where?"

"She means Charlie," Will explained and felt rather reassured when Jane flashed her younger sister a scowling glare. It meant that he wasn't the only one who was rattled when Lizzy was determined to make mischief.

"You left with him," Lizzy reminded her sister in a sing-song. "Did you get mad and make him hitchhike home?"

"Nope, kiddo—that's something you'd do," Fitz pointed out and hushed Zarine when she started to fuss.

Even Lizzy wouldn't do that, not in this weather. At least, Will didn't think she would.

"Charlie said he should spend some time with his family," Jane muttered, trotting up the staircase. "His sisters will be dropping him off later."

"That's the crankiest I've ever seen Jane," Giana whispered, staring at the stairwell. "Are you quite sure that was still your sister, Lizzy?"

"Yep," Lizzy chirped, "but she's really not that bad. You should see her when she's PMSing—" Lizzy gasped and clapped both hands over her mouth, but Giana and Maggie were laughing already, especially at the expressions on Fitz and Jimmy's faces. Lizzy turned to Will, grinning ruefully. "I really am tipsy."

Will smiled, lifting a hand to stroke her hair.

"But why is Jane so upset?" Maggie said.

Lizzy shrugged. "Don't worry. She's just stressed."

"This is why you should always buy your Christmas presents early," Jimmy told Giana smugly, and Will grinned. Jimmy had told Will that story earlier, during the ride up the lift: the story of Giana's mad, panicked, day-long dash of a shopping spree as she tried to get all her gifts in order before her flight the next morning.

"No, it's not Christmas." Lizzy glanced up the stairs and then leaned forward, so far off the couch that Will had to grab her shoulder to keep her from falling. Then she confided to them all in a loud, conspiring whisper, "Charlie and Jane are planning something. Something sneaky."

"Princess Jane is not sneaky," Fitz said, cradling Zarine as she began to scream now in earnest.

"Neither is Charlie," Giana pointed out, Jimmy watching behind her.

Will privately agreed, but he had to admit that Lizzy often proved more observant than the rest of them.

"Yeah, that's how I know they're being sneaky," Lizzy replied. "They're trying too hard."

"Bullshit," snorted Maggie without looking up from the magazine she was holding.

Lizzy scowled. "They're definitely up to something. For one, neither of them have gone skiing yet; that's not normal. For two, they keep disappearing on these mysterious errands that always take all day. For three, they—" Lizzy gasped, and Will lost his grip on her shoulder as she climbed on the coffee table so that she could peer into Maggie's face. "You're helping them, aren't you? You're in on the sneakiness."

That would certainly make sense. Maggie was capable of keeping many more secrets than Charlie and his fiancé.

"I—" started Maggie.

"I need—" Will turned toward the voice, and there was Jane at the bottom of the stairs, still angry, glaring through her red hair just as Lizzy did when she was angry. "—something alcoholic."

Lizzy laughed, so hard that her arms buckled under her, and Will had to catch her to keep her from knocking her head on the table.

Giana was already on her way to the kitchen. "There's the eggnog, I suppose."

"That'll work," Jane said, following her.

"The Bingley sisters," said Lizzy, wiping her eyes and giggling, "they've finally driven Jane to drink."

"Will, can I try some?" Giana asked, and Will turned to see her pulling the eggnog pitcher from the fridge.

"I suppose," said Will, wondering why she was asking, wondering if it was normal for a girl to ask her elder brother if she could enjoy a Christmas treat. "I don't see why not."

Lizzy laughed again and poked him gently in the stomach. "You forgot that we don't have the same drinking laws as you've got back in England."

"Oh," Will said, looking back to see Giana ladling out two cups. "I suppose it's still all right, then."

"Uh-huh," Lizzy said smugly.

"She's a big girl," Will added, turning back to see if she'd laughed, and she did and gripped his hand.

"Would you like any, Will?" Giana called.

"No thanks," Will replied, glancing back.

"I would," said Fitz hopefully.

"Uh-oh," murmured Lizzy, and Will watched her turn, still lying on the coffee table, trying to gauge Maggie's reaction. Then her face changed, became less playful and more attentive. "Whoa—I did that."

"You did what?" Maggie asked, as Lizzy sat up to get a better look at the magazine Maggie was reading. "You wrote '10 Days and 10 Ways to Work Off That Holiday Gorging'?"

"No, not the article," Lizzy said. "The ad."

Something fell heavily into the armchair next to Will's couch—Jane, still scowling, with a creamy mixture in a clear glass and her spoon hanging from her mouth. He almost commented that it was only when Jane was angry that she reminded Will of Lizzy, but he didn't. He wasn't sure that the Bennet twins would take it very well.

"What the hell is www. fairy-godmother. com?" Maggie asked, frowning reproachfully when Giana stopped in front of Fitz and nudged him with her foot, careful not to disturb Zarine still fussing in the crook of his arm.

"Say the magic word," said Giana sweetly.

"Abra-cadabra," replied Fitz, distracted with Zarine.

"It's…um…" Lizzy said with a slight frown. "Hmm…" she added, thinking.

"Not that one. The other one," said Giana. "Do you want to teach your baby good manners or not?"

"Please," grumbled Fitz sullenly, and Giana handed it to him beaming but wouldn't let go until he added, "Well, thanks.—Wanna change Zarine's diaper for me while you're at it?"

"No," Giana snorted. With a heavy, unhappy sigh, Fitz set the cup of eggnog down and lumbered to his feet to go in search of the diaper bag.

"You did a photo shoot without knowing what it was for?" Maggie asked surprised. That would certainly be surprising, considering Lizzy's outspoken consideration for her career.

Will reached around Lizzy and pulled the magazine gently out of Maggie's hands.

"I know what it's for," Lizzy retorted. "I just can't remember how to explain it."

The ad was composed of four panels, four that depicted the Cinderella story.

In the first, Cinderella loomed large on the far left of the frame, a sooty smudge on her cheek, a frown around her mouth as she leaned on a broom. The stepsisters were shown behind her, smaller in the right side of the frame, stalking out the door in identical, flimsy black dresses much in the manner of the Bingley sisters.

"What is it?" asked Giana, trying to peer over Will's shoulder. He angled it slightly so that she could see.

In the second, the stepsisters had disappeared, and so had Cinderella's frown. Instead, she was grinning, almost wickedly, as she stooped to grab a pair of glass shoes from the floor. She had some sort of fabric over her other arm, the same color as the dress she wore.

"An ad," Jimmy replied. "That Lizzy did."

"When did you do an ad?" Jane asked her twin.

In the third, the far left of the frame was filled by that fabric, which turned out to be a dress, an exceptionally ugly one. Cinderella seemed keen to put it out of its misery. She was rather gleefully taking a large pair of scissors to the dress, a pair of scissors with a tag that was quite visibly marked "FAIRY- GODMOTHER."

The fourth was fairly traditional: Cinderella in a pretty dress, standing at the top of the steps, above a ball, beaming. The onlookers were well-dressed, wide-eyed, and appreciative—pardoning only the jealous stepsisters.

Underneath the panels was the slogan "MAKE YOUR OWN HAPPY ENDING." Underneath that read www. fairy-godmother. com. Below that, there was some fine print that was too small for Will to bother reading.

"You told me about this," Will said remembering. "This was the one where they asked for two panels, but they liked the ones you made up so much that they added them."

"You added some?" Maggie said. "Can you do that?"

"Well, yeah—it was just for fun," Lizzy said shrugging, but with a fond grin in Will's direction. "The ones they asked for didn't talk all that long. Cathy—that's the Cinderella model—said she was booked for the rest of the morning. So, we put our heads together and did a few more shots."

"I rather like this one," Giana announced, tapping the one with the scissors. "I can remember some dresses from my childhood that I wouldn't have minded cutting up."

"Thanks," replied Lizzy, and Giana grinned and spooned eggnog into her mouth.

"But none of that explains what this website is," Maggie said sighing.

"It's a company that makes customized dresses, isn't it?" Will asked Lizzy. "Someone will send in their measurements and pick a color, and they'll get a dress in the mail."

Lizzy grinned. "Well, there's more options than just the color but yeah. It's supposed to be a cheap alternative to professional tailoring. They're trying to enter the market for prom dresses, bridesmaid dresses, debutante—"

"Oh," said Jane. "That's where I've heard it before. That's where I got the—" She stopped abruptly and seemed to notice everyone's attention. "I got something from there recently," Jane explained.

"Well, it would have to be recently," Lizzy replied grinning, as Fitz returned, carrying a sleepy and freshly-changed Zarine on his hip. "It's a fairly new company."

"Did we find out what www. fairy-godmother. com is?" Fitz asked irritably, handing the baby over to Maggie so that he could wash his hands in the sink.

"Dress company," Maggie replied. "Is it any good Jane? I don't have time to go shopping anymore—"

"Dresses?" Fitz scoffed, soaping his hands.

"Yeah," Lizzy said, lowering her chin defensively.

"Sell-out," Fitz muttered, almost too low to hear.

Will looked up from the magazine sharply, first at Fitz rinsing the soap from his hands, his head bent over the faucet, and then at Lizzy, who had her mouth open, wide and hurt. Her scowl was only beginning to catch up.

"Fitz," scolded Maggie, settling Zarine more comfortably in her lap. "Ignore him, Lizzy. He's just a mean, old drunk."

"I am not," Fitz grumbled, coming back into the living room and snatching his eggnog off the table. "What'd you say at Rosings, Lizzy? That you hated the whole fashion industry and two years were all you were going to take? Something like that."

"I was helping Aunt Diana out of a tight spot," Lizzy snapped. "Someone bailed on her last minute, and—"

"You're so defensive, kiddo," Fitz said, stabbing at his eggnog with his spoon. "Did I hit a nerve or something?"

Will looked to Lizzy, waiting for her to defend herself, but when the only retaliation she gave was to lower her chin and curl her hands into fists, he supposed it was time for him to step in. "You aunt owed you a favor after that, though. Did you talk her into letting you sneak about interviewing for an exposé?"

"Yeah," Lizzy said, relaxing but still frowning. "About airbrushing. For National Geographic."

"You didn't tell me that," Jane told her sister gently, and Lizzy turned wide-eyed.

"But they didn't take it," Fitz said and stuffed a spoonful of eggnog in his mouth.

""Fitz, what the hell?" Giana snapped scowling, her hands on her hips.

"That's big," Fitz replied around the spoon in his mouth. "We would've heard about it."

"Did something happen while you were changing the baby?" Maggie asked shrewdly. "You got baby shit on your hand again, didn't you?"

Fitz scowled into his cup. "So fucking gross."

"Someone did take it, didn't they?" Will asked Lizzy patiently.

"Yeah," answered Lizzy, beginning to understand what he was getting at and grinning slowly.

Will grinned back lazily. "Who?"

"Newsweek," said Lizzy smiling.

"Newsweek?" Maggie repeated, mouth open, so loudly that Zarine woke up and started to fuss again.

Lizzy nodded. "They're doing a Body Image issue."

"Really? Oh, congratulations!" Giana cried and hugged Lizzy with enough force to knock them both down to the coffee table. Jane took the opportunity to kiss her sister's forehead.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me that," Jane scolded, but she was smiling.

"Well, it's just a short piece. Plus, I only got the email yesterday," Lizzy said, "and then someone called this morning. Actually, I have a lot of work to do. I'm supposed to cut it down by something like four thousand words and three pictures—"

"But it does make you career, right?" asked Jimmy with a growing smile.

"It definitely helps—" Lizzy started.

"Don't get too excited," Fitz said. "It's only ready by about half of America. The suited half."

"Oh, shut up, Fitz," Maggie said, smacking his shoulder affectionately. "You left a Newsweek by the toilet just this morning. I saw it."

Lizzy and Giana laughed, Jane smiled, and Will grinned as Fitz protested, "That's all they had—"

"Sure," Maggie said, getting up and cradling Zarine against her shoulder. "Okay, we're watching a movie. What does everybody want to see?"

"Whoa—since when are we watching a movie?" asked Lizzy laughing.

"Since you, Fitz, Jane, and Giana dipped into the very alcoholic concoction you whipped up," Maggie answered, going to the TV and grabbing the remote. "I can handle one giggly Bennet, but not two."

"Actually—" Lizzy started, looking to Jane.

"I hold my alcohol much better than Lizzy," Jane said smiling.

Maggie was fishing around the entertainment center for DVD's. "Doesn't matter. There's still Giana to think of."

"Wha?" said Giana sharply. "Now wait—"

"No, to tell the truth, you don't hold your liquor all that well," said Jimmy with a grin that quickly fell off his face when he met Will's startled gaze. "Not that I know from experience or anything," he added quickly.

Lizzy snorted, and Maggie discovered a couple lonely DVD's in the cabinet beside the TV. "Okay, what'll it be? March of the Penguins or The Bourne Identity?"

10.

Will was having a hard time falling asleep. Lizzy could tell. She could tell, because it'd been over a half an hour since they'd climbed into bed, kissed each other goodnight, and turned off the light, but Will was still fidgeting. Just a little: shifting a foot one minute, turning his head the other way the next, rubbing his nose right after that. Just enough so that Lizzy knew he was awake. He almost didn't move at all when he slept. He moved so little that he teased Lizzy changing positions so often when she was asleep.

She wondered what it was, what was bothering him. It couldn't be the movie. They'd ended up watching It's a Wonderful Life, the copy that Jane was going to give Charlie for Christmas but sacrificed for the good of all. It definitely wasn't the kind of movie to give him nightmares, and nothing significant happened after the movie either. When it ended, it was late enough that several eggnog-filled individuals were dozing on the couches. It was agreed that presents would happen when everyone woke up, and Giana was told firmly that she wasn't allowed to wake anyone up ("I'm nineteen," she protested, "not nine.)

Even with her head turned toward him, lying on her stomach, she couldn't really see him, not with the lights turned off. But she could imagine his face, eyes open, scowling in the dark.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Lizzy asked finally.

"Hmm?" His voice was muffled, like he was talking into the pillow." Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

"You didn't wake me. I haven't fallen asleep yet, and neither have you. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that shit," she said smiling, propping herself up on her elbow so that she could look toward him. "You've been worrying about something, and if it's keeping you up at night, we might as well work through it right now. So—I ask you again—what's wrong, Mr. Darcy?"

"I don't want to talk about it actually."

"Tough," Lizzy replied with a smug smile.

Lizzy heard him sigh. Heavily. "Lizzy."

"Will." She braced herself; soon he would be pretending to be aggravated.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it."

It wasn't as bad as she thought. He was going to crack soon. "I know; I heard you. I'm telling you that's not an option."

Will groaned, flipped over onto his stomach, and Lizzy thought she even heard him shove his head under his pillow.

"Well, that won't work on me," Lizzy said, reaching over so that she could trail her fingers up the most sensitive parts of his spine, and pausing when she felt him flinch under her hand. "The nice thing about sharing a bed is that I don't have to leave you alone until you talk to me."

He was scowling at her; she still couldn't see it in the dark but she could sense it.

"I'm more stubborn than you are," Lizzy reminded him. "If you want to make this something we fight over, I'll win. You don't believe me? I'll give you a preview—"

"That isn't necessary," Will replied sharply. "I believe you."

Lizzy grinned. "Good answer."

"It's all rather stupid."

"It is not. Not if you've been worrying about it for three days."

"Two and a half days," Will corrected shifting so that the mattress protested with a squeak.

"You trying to fill a time quota or something?" Lizzy asked grinning, but Will was silent. When he was silent for a whole minute (Lizzy watched the red digits on the alarm clock change), she added, "Would it help if I told you about something that's worrying me?"

"Yes," Will replied, too quickly.

Lizzy snorted. "I shouldn't have offered that. You're hoping to stall long enough that I give up and fall asleep."

She heard Will sigh, and she imagined him—stretched out on his back, hair tousled across the pillow, looking at the ceiling. She wondered if she should turn on the light. "It really would help me," he said slowly. "I haven't even realized that you were worried."

"Fine," Lizzy said, dropping from her elbow and tucking her chin into the pillow. She regretted offering now, now that there was something twisting nervously in her gut. "You—Will, you don't think I'm a sell-out, do you?"

There was a sharp movement from Will's side of the bed; he probably turned sharply toward her. "What?"

"You don't think I'm a sell-out, right?" she asked again, but the only response she got from Will was him pulling the covers closer to him. She stretched a hand toward him and noticed that he'd turned his back to her. "Will?"

"You can't make something up, Lizzy," he replied angrily. I don't want to talk at all now."

Lizzy's hand dropped to the bed between them, her mouth hanging open. "Okay, rule number one of talking in bed: you are not allowed to scoff at anything I tell you, especially when I just told you that I've been worried about it."

"You're not really paying any mind to what Fitz said," Will said, turning back so quickly that he rolled onto her hand. Before she could snatch out of the way, he caught it and held it.

"Well, yeah. I know what I said at Rosings, and I used to think that I'd never go back, but I just kind of fell back into it—"

"Lizzy," Will said, "he didn't mean anything by it. This is Fitz we're talking about. You can't tell Fitz seriously."

Lizzy paused, frowning thoughtfully, before propping herself back up on her elbows. "So, he never told you about when he came to see me right after you left Rosings."

"He said he delivered my letter, that's all," Will said slowly. Lizzy knew he was trying to remember. "Did he do something else?"

"Well, basically, Fitz told me I needed to get over myself and spend the rest of my life with you."

"He did what?" Will asked, beginning to sit up.

"You can't get mad," Lizzy informed him, "and you can't tell him I told you. I'm just trying to explain why I can't completely ignore Fitz's opinion."

"What did Fitz tell you exactly?"

"Will, focus. Me, a sell-out—yes or no?" she asked. "So, you know it's not just this ad. Fairy-godmother. com offered me a contract." There was a lot more movement from Will's side, and Lizzy heard him put his feet on the floor. "Because they liked my version of the campaign better, they're giving me a lot more artistic freedom than I should expect, as inexperienced as I—"

She stopped abruptly as the door opened and light flooded in, and she watched Will stalk out of the room. She scowled, pulling herself up to a sitting position and wondering if he knew exactly how rude it was to leave the room while they were talking, or if she was going to have to tell him. Then a shadow crossed the doorway, and Will re-entered the room, head bent over something in his hand and asked, "Lizzy, turn on the light, will you?"

Lizzy frowned and reached under the lampshade, groping for the switch. She squeezed her eyes shut as the lamp came on, turning her eyes away, grimacing. When she could open his eyes again, Will was at his carry-on bag. When she saw what he pulled out and what he consequently put on his face, she laughed—into the pillow so that she didn't wake anyone up. "Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" she giggled.

Will glanced back at her and adjusted the dark, squarish frames on his nose, before looking away and going to close the door.

"When did you get glasses?" Lizzy asked.

Will returned to the bed, sitting on his side of the bed and pulling something into his lap, a magazine. "When Maggie made me."

"And why haven't I seen them?"

"They're only for reading," Will protested without looking up.

Lizzy decided that she liked his glasses; they softened his face and made his scowl seem a little less imposing. "Well, you shouldn't hide—"

"Lizzy, try to focus," Will said exasperated. "You asked me a question, and I'm trying to give you an honest answer."

Lizzy glanced down at the magazine in Will's lap and noticed with a start that it was the mock-up copy from before, open to fairy-godmother. com ad. She almost asked if Maggie's briefcase was off-limits to everyone, or just certain mischief-makers, but decided against it when she saw the concentration on Will's face. Watching him peer through his glasses, she suddenly imagined him twenty years down the line, with grey in his hair and crows' feet at his eyes, peering over a newspaper in exactly the same way.

"What?" Will asked when Lizzy didn't managed to muffle her laughter fast enough.

"You're cute," she replied grinning.

Will blinked at her through his glasses, opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, frowning down at the page in front of him. "These two were from the original campaign," he decided, tapping the first and fourth photos, the one of the step-sisters leaving Cinderella and then Cinderella arriving at the ball.

He was right, but she still asked, "How do you know?"

"They're rather more classic," Will replied, "and standing alone they could be seen as before and after images. Before and after purchasing a dress from this company, of course. Now, the other two," he added, "they change the story quite a bit. Here, you and this Cinderella model—"

"Cathy," Lizzy corrected.

"Yes, Cathy. By adding the picture of Cathy collecting materials and cutting up the dress, the panels became a chronicle of a process," Will explained. "Since you've depicted the way Cathy changed the dress herself, it's not quite the same; it's not something that the company can do, but what Cinderella must do for herself. Her success now rests on her own creativity. You've actually fit the slogan much better than the original scheme. Before it could've have been 'Buy Your Own Happy Ending.' With your additions, you're now telling the readers of this magazine they can make one instead."

"You made really good grades in school, huh?" Lizzy asked.

Will looked up. "I did. Why?"

"Because that's almost exactly how Aunt Diana pitched it to the Fairy-Godmother representatives," Lizzy said smiling. "She threw in a few extra words and some statistics, but—"

"Lizzy," Will said, in the same earnest tone he reserved for when he really wanted her to know something. And he was looking at her in the dark, intense way that always made her blush. "I never believed for a moment that you were any sort of sell-out or failure. I was surprised, yes, when you allowed your aunt to hire you, because you seemed so much against the industry itself. But I believe it's more admirable for you to go back and change what you hated than to merely run away. It's similar to what Fitz said by the pool that you liked so much. Hero-model—No, supermodel," he said with a widening grin. "How did it go again? 'Like Superman, but—'"

"'Like Superman, but prettier,'" Lizzy remembered beginning to smile. "'Fighting lechery and fashion fuck-ups everywhere.'"

"Exactly," Will said, pulling his glasses off his face and folding them awkwardly. "The things that you hated about the industry—that you told me and Fitz about—the lechery, the way people looked at you, the way it made women look at themselves, that's what I can see you trying to change."

Lizzy didn't know what to say.

"Are you going to take it?" Will asked. "The contract, I mean."

Lizzy hesitated.

"You really want to do it," Will said. "I know you do."

Lizzy bit her lip. She'd already been jotting down ideas: Rupunzel cutting off her own hair to climb down the tower (in a beautiful dress, of course), the Little Mermaid's first steps on land (in a beautiful dress), Snow White kicking and shattering her own glass coffin. She did want to do it, but—

"You've never been someone to limit yourself because you're afraid of what others will think of you," Will reminded, brushing her hair from her face.

Lizzy sat back slight against the pillows, smiling some and staring. "How did you do that?" Lizzy asked him, regarding him quietly.

"Do what? What have I done now?" Will asked, slightly worried, placing his glasses on the nightstand.

"How did you know exactly what to say to make me feel better?" she asked.

Will grinned, pleased with himself now. "So you're going to take their offer?"

"Yeah," Lizzy said, beginning to nod slowly, "I think I will." She leaned back forward as he placed the magazine on the nightstand, next to his glasses. "Thank you," she said and kissed him. She felt him smile against her mouth and then she pulled back and told him seriously, "Now it's your turn."

Will grinned and curled his hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her back into another kiss.

"That's not what I meant," Lizzy said laughing, sitting back on her ankles.

"What did you mean?" Will asked, and Lizzy waited for him to remember their agreement. "Oh, bloody hell. I forgot."

"Wishful thinking," Lizzy replied grinning.

Will sighed and glanced toward her lamp. "Turn out the light, if you don't mind."

"Fine," Lizzy said, reaching under the lampshade again, "but I still won't fall asleep on you."

Will waited until the light was off. Then Lizzy heard him drag in a deep breath. "Why are the others afraid of me?"

"You mean, why didn't Giana tell you about Jimmy, right?" Lizzy said, flipping so that she was lying on her stomach again, her head facing him even though she couldn't exactly see him.

"Well. Yes…" Will said, so slowly that Lizzy automatically waited for him to say something else, but he didn't.

Lizzy thought, wondering how she could explain this best to Will. She was a little annoyed that Giana and Will couldn't seem to talk this out between themselves, but it wasn't worth encouraging it if it meant that Giana was going to end up yelling at Will again.

"Will, how old was Giana when your dad died?"

"Thirteen—no, I was just nineteen, so that would make Giana fourteen." He paused before adding, "They were never close."

"So, what you telling me is that you're doubling as brother and father figure. It's pretty normal for teenage girls to not tell their male relatives about whoever they're dating—"

"They aren't just dating, Lizzy," Will pointed out. "They're in love. And please don't try to tell me that siblings aren't open about things like love. Giana had to tell me that I was in love with you."

"Yeah," Lizzy replied grinning, "but that's because you're dense. Not as dense as I am apparently, but still—"

"Lizzy."

Lizzy sighed. "Well, Giana's also going through the stage where she feels stupid and ashamed about how naïve she was with Wickham. Since you were pretty involved with the beat-the-shit-out-of-Wickham part of the saga, she's trying to handle a relationship completely independent of that.—Lydia's the same way. Jane and I can't get her to tell us anything about her current boyfriends."

"Giana is afraid of me, Lizzy." He was hurt. His voice had become deeper and slower like it did whenever he was really upset. Lizzy knew that Giana had hurt him, and she thought it was a mistake for Will not to show his sister how much he was hurt. "My own sister's afraid of me."

"Well, not all the time."

"That doesn't exactly make me feel any better," Will said irritably.

"It's only when you lose your temper," Lizzy explained. "You do have a really bad temper."

Will shifted, turning slightly away, and Lizzy even heard him snort slightly.

So he didn't feel like it was an accusation, she added, "I do too, and Jane's scared of me when I'm mad. She gave me weird looks for days after I broke Collins' nose."

Will chuckled—quietly but loud enough so that Lizzy smiled in the dark and slid her hand out from under the blankets to find his hand. "I was rather frightened of you myself."

"See," Lizzy said smugly as her hand caught Will's.

They lay in the dark for a while, holding hands. Lizzy waited. It always took Will at least ten minutes to get at whatever he needed talk about.

"She's not the only one," Will said after a moment.

"Well, you see, you lose your temper a lot," Lizzy pointed out smirking, "and Giana's not the only one to see it."

"They're all afraid of me, though," Will pointed out. "Is that normal for everyone who's close to me to be so terrified that they tread carefully in my presence?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Lizzy reminded him.

"No, you're not," Will replied. Lizzy waited, knowing that he was just warming up. "I think that's why I've suddenly noticed it after all this time. You're not a bit frightened, and the others sense that. That's why they all begin poking fun at me as soon as you're around. They know you'll stop me from getting carried away, and—"

Lizzy could stop herself from laughing. She clapped both hands over her mouth as fast as she could, but it was too late.

"Lizzy, I'm serious," Will said in a low dangerous voice.

"I know you are, but you just made me sound like you're a tempermental toddler and I'm your nanny."

"I don't feel much like a toddler. I feel like a tyrant. Am I really such a terrible person that everyone around me delights in rebelling against me and telling me off?"

"That's what you've been worried about?" Lizzy asked, drawing herself back up on her elbows, aghast. "That you're a bad person?"

"Well, Giana certainly didn't help," Will grumbled, "yelling at me like she did. And Jimmy, when we were on the lift, he explained that he thought I was abusive."

"What? To Giana? You'd never hurt—"

"No, he thought I abused you," Will said quietly.

Lizzy puffed out a horrified gasp. "If he thinks—"

"I was only because of last night," Will explained. "At the doorway, when I grabbed you. But that's understandable. If he'd done the same to Giana, I would think much more terrible things. And besides that, there's y—"

Will stopped himself, but it didn't matter much. Lizzy knew it anyway. He was worried that this was a reason that Lizzy refused to agree to marry him. For a moment, Lizzy was tempted to explain now, to tell him the rest… But you don't marry someone, because you pity him, or because you want to comfort him.

"Will, you're a good person," Lizzy told him firmly, squeezing his hand hard.

She heard him sigh, but he didn't answer. Lizzy fumbled again under the lampshade and turned on the light. He grimaced, blinking against the light, but she pulled her knees up under her so that she could shuffle closer, leaning over him with both hands on either side of his chest, frowning down at him. He frowned back, but there was no glare in his face.

"You are a good man, Will," she told him.

He smiled, just slightly, and reached up to put his hands on either side of her waist. He wouldn't look her in the eye. His gaze was roaming around her face, lingering at her mouth. "You only say that because you love me."

"Maybe so—" Lizzy started, and when Will still didn't look up, she scowled and let her weight collapse on top of him, so that Will stared at her, startled and wide-eyed. "Yeah, you should look at me when I'm talking to you. That's rule number two of talking in bed. Rule number three, believe me when you ask for my opinion."

"You're trying to make me feel better," Will said, but he was looking her in the eye now. That was an improvement."

"Well, duh, Mr. Darcy," Lizzy said, "and I might just be telling you this because I love you. But—" she added, grabbing his face between her hands when he tried to look away again, "I wouldn't love you if you weren't a good person. I wouldn't even trust you if you weren't a good person."

Will seemed to believe this. His frown had turned thoughtful, instead of sad.

"I won't lie to you, though," Lizzy said, hugging him fiercely. "You're extremely overbearing."

"You know," Will said, his chest rumbling beneath her, "I have gotten that impression over the past couple days."

"But," Lizzy told him, "you're only overbearing with the people you love, usually because you're trying to protect them. For example, taking my cereal away." She waited for Will to chuckle again before she continued. "That was annoying but well-intentioned. And with Jimmy and Giana: kind of ridiculous, but you were just trying to protect her."

"That's true."

"That doesn't mean, though," she said, kissing his chin, "that you shouldn't back off a little bit."

Will groaned. "I don't think I have much of a choice at this point," he said, pressing kisses into her neck. "I don't think I've had much of a choice since I fell in love with you."

"Hmm, probably not," Lizzy replied smiling and capturing his mouth. She felt his hand move over her hair and then cup her face before rolling her gently over, his mouth over hers as his hands slid her pajama shirt slowly up. One arm moved away to switch off the light, and Lizzy broke the kiss, grinning, to ask, "You sure you wanna start something? We do have neighbors."

Will returned his attention to her neck, trailing kisses from her ear down to her collarbone. "They're asleep."

"Well, we've got a squeaky mattress and extremely thin walls," Lizzy told him, but her voice came out husky. When he unbuttoned the top of her shirt and his mouth started traveling lower, she couldn't keep herself from gasping. "Giana dropped a book…when packing." It was definitely getting harder to talk, especially when Will's mouth moved upward again and found the place right under her ear that was the extra-sensitive. "I heard it…in here. Don't want them thinking it's okay to…return the favor. If…oh, what the hell—" Lizzy grumbled and grabbed Will's head, pulling his mouth down to hers and struggling with his shirt.

She then noticed that Will was a little less responsive than he'd been a few seconds ago.

She sighed sadly, as Will returned to his side of the bed. "Boo, it was the 'return the favor' comment, wasn't it? Stupid mouth, running away with me."

"I like your mouth," Will told her, returning to kiss her swiftly once more, as Lizzy took his hand and rolled into his side, her chin curving around his shoulder. His arm curled over her waist and around her back. "Even when it runs away with you."

"I'll remind you of that sometime," Lizzy said smiling, closing her eyes to go to sleep, breathing in his warm boy smell. It was almost scary to realize that this was one of the only ways she knew she was safe—that they were both safe, when they were this close and locked together, like it would take more than a catastrophe to pull them apart.

Author's (second) note: To let everyone know, it'll probably be a while for the next update. Since I'm trying to finish the whole thing before I post again. I'm halfway through section thirteen (out of the sixteen planned) so it's coming along. My goal is to get it finished by the end of the month.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and thank you everyone for the reviews! They really help keep me writing.