* This story is copyright protected.

The door closed behind her with a click, and a lump formed in her throat. Taking a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room, she did not immediately see Mr Darcy sitting behind his desk. The heavy velvet curtains, which looked near black in this lighting were drawn and there was only the dim light from the fireplace and a few candles to illuminate the room. It was then that she saw him, his presence screaming for her attention. He did not stand to greet her, he sat motionless, his face partially hidden in the shadows as he regarded her. Elizabeth was never one to be easily intimidated, she had always found the courage to stand her ground, when she was nervous or unsure of a situation.

"Mr Darcy," she curtsied.

He stood then, walking around his desk and stopping before her, severe in his customary dark attire. Elizabeth noticed he was missing his jacket; his black waist coat and breeches were a stark contrast to his brilliant white dress shirt. He stopped several feet away, making sure to maintain a substantial distance from her. Mr Darcy, even from his current position towered over her, all six foot plus of him. Had he always been quite so tall? thought Elizabeth distractedly.

Mr Darcy's eyes bore down into hers… the deep depths of stormy grey gaze made her want to flee and hide. How can his eyes be so cold but burn so bright? She took in his rugged appearance and the aristocratic lines of his face, disapproving and hard. As he took another step toward her, the light emanating from the flames in the grand fireplace, cast a dark and menacing shadow over his countenance. For a moment he looked like the devil himself, and her stomach clenched as a chill ran through her, curling her toes and making the hairs on her neck stand to attention.

Mr Darcy could do nothing more than stare at Elizabeth.

He did not wish to acknowledge it, but by God she was lovely, although a little paler and more fragile than usual. The brown tresses he had imagined running his fingers through, more times than he would care to admit, were slightly dishevelled as though she had been on another of her long walks she was known for. Miss Bingley would certainly have something to say about the way her hair was arranged but then that woman was hardly at the height of fashion! Finally, his gaze rested on her fine eyes. Elizabeth's eyes were still as expressive as ever, but they were shadowed by a mixture of feelings he did not recognise as she gazed at him with… uncertainty? Hatred? He frowned to himself. Why was she still so damn difficult to read?!

"Mr Darcy are you not going to address me? I assume you have not gone deaf or become mute since we last spoke?" well done Elizabeth antagonize the man whose help you need! They were not going to get anywhere if he continued to stand there looking at her and not speaking.

Mr Darcy bowed, remembering his manners motioning to a leather armchair at the opposite end of the large fireplace between them. "Please have a seat." She moved forward slowly, eyeing him uncertainly, and gently lowered herself onto the edge of the armchair. She shook her head when he gestured toward the glass pitcher of water on the side table. Her posture was rigid as she watched him move to the opposite chair but not sit in it. At least, she wasn't the only one that felt uncomfortable. Good!

It became quickly apparent that Mr Darcy was not going to make this easy on her. He just stood there and continued to glare down at her, not trying to start any sort of conversation. Did he not wish to know why she was there? Or was this purely a show of how inconsequential she was to him? She would find the latter easier to believe, if she hadn't seen a glimpse of curiosity in his gaze before his cold and aloof mask fell back into place making him impossible to read.

He turned from her abruptly going to refill his drink from the decanter sitting on the sideboard by his desk and Elizabeth released the breath she did not realise she had been holding. She used this time to look about the room. The wall on the right-hand side of the room was covered in bookshelves from floor to ceiling, with a richly upholstered striped settee with gold feet and a matching armchair sitting next to it. On the side of the room where she was sitting, she looked down at the expensive Turkish rug beneath her feet, feeling slightly out of place in her palatial surroundings and trying to hide her worn shoes under the hem of her gown.

After Mr Darcy had poured himself a drink, he faced her again exhaling loudly, he kept his gaze trained on his glass seeming more preoccupied with the amber liquid than her. Elizabeth, becoming impatient, cleared her throat and spoke in a voice louder than intended.

"Mr Darcy, I thank you for agreeing to speak with me without a prior appointment. You must understand that I would not have imposed upon you if I could see any other way." Mr Darcy had not even given her the courtesy of looking at her whilst she was addressing him. "Sir, I imagine my asking anything of you is repugnant to you, but I know that you are an honourable gentleman and you -"

"Now you believe that I am an honourable gentleman," laughed Mr Darcy bitterly. Her eyes widened in shock. "Very convenient. You think you can fool me, now that you need something from me?"

"I beg your pardon," replied Elizabeth affronted. "I know my being here cannot be easy, I can assure you that I am not finding this very enjoyable myself. I would beg that you hear what I have come here to say, not for my sake, but for the sake of my family."

"Your family's sake? You, who found more faults in my character than I care to count! I wonder, did you take delight in entertaining your entire family with the story of my proposal and in turn your refusal of it? Did you laugh and mock and tease me as you are so fond of doing?" said Mr Darcy taking a rather substantial gulp of the amber liquid.

"Sir I understand you are still angry. But I can assure you, I have told no one of our… conversation in Kent," she said in an attempt to dampen his ire. Elizabeth had come here with a purpose and would not be chased away. Her courage always rose at every attempt to intimidate her.

He should ask her to leave and refuse to help her. Why had he even agreed to see her in the first place? He had no responsibility for her nor her family. He owed her nothing.

"Why are you here, Miss Bennet?" he asked harshly.

"I need your help, sir," she said clasping her hands in her lap.

"Well that is fairly obvious," he huffed, arching a brow, he asked, "How exactly may I be of assistance?"

"It is Mr Wickham, sir..." she hesitated as she looked up at him. Elizabeth knew, once she told Mr Darcy, she would be tainted by association. It was one thing to have someone look down their nose at you because they thought they were superior, but it was another thing entirely to give them the proof that justified their feelings. A small part of her hoped this may even induce in him a sense of relief that she had refused his proposal. Anything that might make him more inclined to help them.

"Mr Wickham?" he frowned. The shock evident in his features. He was not expecting that, every muscle in his body tensed, almost painfully. Darcy reacted instantly, moving to the front of the chair opposite Elizabeth and pulling it closer to her as he sat down. "Has he hurt you in any way?" he said gazing upon her.

"No, he has not hurt me, at least not directly..." taking a deep breath she said, "He has eloped with my youngest sister, Lydia, and we cannot find them. I have come to you today in the hope for any insight or information you can provide on Mr Wickham to locate them… his habits, where he lodges in town."

It took a second for her words to register in his mind, and after a long pause of hesitation, Darcy let out a nervous bubble of laughter. Really this was the icing on top of the cake! Wickham really was a scourge upon this earth. He should have listened to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and put a bullet between his eyes. He could not describe the relief he felt at her words. She was unharmed! Goodness how changeable he was! Before she had entered his study, he had wanted nothing more to do with her. He wanted Elizabeth to pay for making a fool of him; however, the second he thought she had been hurt he was ready to take on Napoleon and his entire army single-handedly! Elizabeth, unfortunately, misinterpreted his laughter as a direct insult flung toward her and her family, and was on her feet in an instant. Coming towards him with rage radiating from every fibre of her being. Even with him sitting and she standing, his face was but an inch or so below hers.

"How dare you! What gives you the right to judge?" she questioned him; hands clenched into fists by her side. "I knew coming here was a mistake. You are just as proud and disagreeable as you ever were in Hertfordshire! Perhaps if you had treated Mr Wickham better, he may not have become a man of such devious and dishonourable tendencies." his face so close, her hand itched to strike it. How well it would look with nice red welt in the shape of her hand upon it.

Her words cut him to the quick. Disbelief overwhelmed him. She really thought so little of his character. He placed his hands on the arms of the chair and stood towering over her once more. Elizabeth backed away a few steps as she saw his expression darken.

"I see you have found a way to make this my fault and besmirch my character further! How original." he threw back. "And you are known in Hertfordshire for your quick wit and intelligence. When really, you are just like any other silly little girl with her head buried in a romance novel, who fell for a scoundrel's charms!"

"You are despicable! What happened to you to make you so hard and cruel?" she hissed looking up at him.

"I believe that would be you, madam." he regretted his choice of words instantly he saw the rage and hurt flash in her eyes. She retreated to the other side of the room breathing heavily, seeming to draw into herself. After a few moments, Mr. Darcy broke her reverie. "Contemplating your sins?" he drawled from across the room still smarting at her comments, his lips twisting humourlessly. He placed his glass on the mantle, the drink was not helping him to keep his emotions in check.

"Well then, what is it you require of me Miss Bennet? Are you going to be dreadfully predictable and ask me for money? and if so, what will you be offering in return?" he regretted his words the moment they had left his lips. There was no other person alive that caused him to lose control of his emotions like the fierce creature standing before him.

"I knew this would be a mistake!" said Elizabeth lifting her hands in exasperation and letting them fall to her sides with a clap upon each of her hips. She turned pointing at him as she spoke, "But I had hoped that you might not be the offensive and unfeeling man you were in Hertfordshire," spat Elizabeth, "Hateful man!" she threw at him under her breath.

"Hate me all you want," he said with a bitter laugh. "What do you expect me to believe, hmm? You come here in the small hours of the morning, unchaperoned." he looked away then, shoulders tense, trying to hide the emotions warring within. He knew she would never offer herself, but he wanted to insult her as she had insulted him, just a little.

"I came here because I have no other choice. I did not think you were one of those men who would extort my need for their own personal gain."

"Whatever you think of my character, you know that not to be the case Miss Bennet. You insulted me and I responded in the same manner. You can stop pretending to feel affronted by my comments. There is nothing stopping you from leaving." he said inclining his head toward the door with his hands on his hips.

"I do not know what to think of you, Mr Darcy. I have tried many times to sketch your character, and I still cannot make you out. I ask myself, does he seek to exact some vengeance upon my person and my family, that he deemed so decidedly below his own, for my refusal of his hand? Or is he simply trying to amuse himself?"

"You are so quick to call me out for my pride and prejudice towards your family and all the flaws in my character. Yet, you come to me full of spite and cutting words trying to tear me down, all the while, trying to use my affections, which I had declared five months ago, to use for your own advantage. Tell me, what does that say of your character madam?" sneered Darcy, a cruel smile contorting his features.

"It is very apparent that those sentiments have long since dissipated - your good opinion once lost is lost forever is it not, sir?" taunted Elizabeth. She had begun this conversation calmly, but he had a way of making her lose her temper in an instant. Her embarrassment was lessened slightly by the fact that the normally staid, haughty, and impenetrable Mr Darcy's handsome face was currently shifting between enraged shades of purple and red. She wondered distractedly whether her composure in the face of true provocation had ever been tested like this before.

His smile vanished. "I can see that you still take great pleasure in professing opinions that are not your own Miss Bennet. I have had months to think about the words we hurled at each other that day." He turned away leaning an arm against the mantle of the fireplace. He added in a rough voice, "Trust that I am not the same man that I was then."

All that could be heard for was the clock ticking on the mantle. Darcy seemed mesmerised by the flames licking at the coal in the fireplace. Elizabeth approached him from across the room remembering why she was there. She must get him to co-operate or Lydia and their reputations would be lost forever. Her poor family needed her. She tried to calm herself enough to appeal to Mr Darcy one last time. She closed her eyes and took in a deep steadying breath.

"Mr Darcy, I understand that we do not always see eye-to-eye, and you have every reason to want nothing to do with me," she whispered, trying valiantly to fight back the tears threatening to overwhelm her. "I would not have come here if it could have been avoided, but my family and I received an express three nights ago, informing us that Lydia had eloped from Brighton with Mr Wickham. We are in desperate need of your help sir. Is there any information you could provide that would aid us in finding Mr Wickham? Anything at all? My family know not of my coming here and approaching you..." Elizabeth trailed off, unsure of how to continue, her voice cracking with emotion.

Mr Darcy turned to face her, ready for another cross word, but upon seeing her distress, his expression softened and with a heavy sigh he gestured to the chair she had previously vacated. Once she had seated herself, he spoke.

"Very well, Miss Elizabeth. You have my full attention. Is this absolutely certain?" said Darcy sitting before her once more. Elizabeth nodded jerkily.

"Yes, sir. It has been confirmed by Colonel Forster and his wife. With your consent, I would like to return tomorrow with my Uncle Gardiner to discuss this fully and hopefully with your guidance, -"

"Why would you accompany your Uncle Gardiner?" Mr Darcy interrupted with a frown.

"I do not understand." She said looking perplexed.

"Is Mr Bennet not trying to recover Miss Lydia?" Darcy asked.

"My father was… " Elizabeth's voice wobbled, and she took another fortifying breath before continuing. "My father suffered a heart attack in the early hours of this morning Mr Darcy. He was standing when it struck him, causing him to fall and hit his head. We were told to monitor him closely as he has yet to regain consciousness. This will prevent him from being able to attend the meeting with my Uncle Gardiner should you agree to it." Mr Darcy released a curse under his breath running his fingers roughly through his hair and over his jaw and coming to rest there. I have treated her abominably, he thought as he looked at her tear rimmed, doe eyes.

"I am so sorry, Miss Elizabeth. What is your father's prognosis." asked Mr Darcy with a genuine concern which Elizabeth had not known him capable of.

"I am not sure, I... the doctor prescribed plenty of rest but said that his heart was in a weakened state." It all became too much. She could handle Mr Darcy's ire, but his sincere kindness caught her off guard, and Elizabeth could no longer hold back her tears. Burying her face in her hands she was overcome, as she wept quietly before him.

Darcy sat there feeling awkward and completely helpless. All the anger he had been harbouring towards her disappeared in an instant. His fury now shifting to Wickham for causing her this pain. She looked so small and fragile as she tried in vain to stem the tears, swiping at them with her fingers. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, comfort her and tell her everything would be all right, for he knew better than most, the pain that accompanied the loss of a parent. It was then he knew that he would help her. This was his brave Elizabeth who had walked three miles to comfort and nurse her ill sister back to health. He would make this right. He would bring that sparkle back into her eyes. The eyes that had captured him and haunted his dreams for many months now. He suddenly felt as though all breath had been knocked out of him. Lord help him, how can it be that after the torment he had borne these past months, he still wanted her.

"I will see your uncle later today, this afternoon if that is agreeable?" offered Mr Darcy sitting forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs and leaning toward her. He went to embrace her hands within his own but lowered his hands and instead clasped them together, before she could see the awkward gesture.

She looked up, turning her tear stained face towards him in disbelief. "Sir, I, I… But…Truly?" stuttered Elizabeth, struggling to find the right words.

"Yes. Would it be acceptable for me to come to your Uncle Gardiner's home? I will be out for most of the morning attending to some business, but I will be able to call early in the afternoon."

"That would be most agreeable, Mr Darcy. Thank you." she said looking up at him in astonishment and was that hope? He could see she was valiantly trying to stop the stuttering breaths and stem her tears. Needing to be of use, he went and fetched a glass of water for her.

"Please, Miss Bennet… I would do what I could to help any family that had fallen victim to Mr Wickham," he said watching while she drank the water he had placed in her hands. She looked at him again, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. This gesture was so endearing to him, he was in danger of pulling her into his arms and never letting her go. Before she spoke again, he stood abruptly and rang the bell for his butler.

"Jarvis will see you out, Miss Bennet. Good day." Mr Darcy said with a small bow.

He needed to sober up and gain some distance from her so that, he could think clearly. This morning had been completely unexpected, and he had best make a start in locating Wickham. Every time he saw him, he had hoped it would be the last, but alas he was not so fortunate. It seemed as though he would be plagued by this disease of a man for the rest of his days!

It took Elizabeth a moment to register his words dismissing her. Standing somewhat awkwardly she placed her glass on the table, self-consciously smoothing her skirts she walked to the door. She felt dejected and troubled by his abrupt dismissal. Mr Darcy had so suddenly changed and once again became inscrutable and emotionless, as if this were a business transaction. The frequency of his mood changes was very unsettling. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had achieved her goal; he had agreed to help and would be meeting with her uncle that afternoon. Elizabeth just wished she could snap her fingers and be ensconced in her bed. Once she had slept, she was sure to feel much better and -

"Miss Elizabeth." Mr Darcy said cutting through her thoughts. She turned sharply towards him, colliding with the broad wall of Mr Darcy's chest, where coincidentally his very hard and very prominent pocket watch rested.

"Ouff!" Grunted Elizabeth. She stumbled, losing her balance from the impact. Mr Darcy's hands came up to grasp her shoulders to help steady her in a more stable position. She looked up and saw his face blanch and his jaw go slack as one hand reached around to hold the base of her head at the nape of her neck, a look of horror on his face.


Elizabeth could see that his eyes were fixed on her nose. She gradually became aware of the slow trickle of something warm on her top lip and gingerly touched it. Upon pulling her fingers away, she saw they were covered in blood. Elizabeth quickly became aware of the pain and began to feel a little woozy. Mr Darcy, noticing her panicked gaze, put his hands gently but firmly upon her shoulders and guided her to the nearby settee instructing her to pinch the bridge of her nose and tilt her head back.

"Forgive me, I am so embarrassed! I am sure it looks far worse than it is..." She really didn't want him to fuss, she just wanted to leave, of all the indignities! She felt herself blush... and then panicked. A blush couldn't make one bleed more, could it? Meanwhile, apologising profusely, Mr Darcy began searching for something. When he could not find it, he went to raid his desk.

She noticed Jarvis enter, and upon seeing her freeze. Goodness how odd they must appear to him. To his credit Jarvis did not betray any reaction to finding them thus.

"Jarvis!" Mr Darcy suddenly barked, making Elizabeth jump.

"Yes, sir?" said Jarvis.

"Please fetch a physician this instant for Miss Bennet and be quick about it man!"

"Blast! I must have left it at the club." He muttered as he began looking around, searching the drawers of his desk, underneath his desk, around his desk! Elizabeth couldn't help but enjoy how ruffled he was. He kept weaving in and out of her line of sight, his composure unravelling by the second. Elizabeth did her best to try to listen for his whereabouts; however, her current position made this somewhat difficult. When Mr Darcy re-entered her line of vision, she saw him walking toward her and forcefully tugging his cravat loose… no - surely, he does not mean to use his cravat on my nose. Has he lost his senses? That is far too intimate! She opened her mouth to voice her objection, when he covered it with the offending garment. Honestly, how much has he had to drink?

He gently used his cravat to clean the blood and stop the bleeding. "I am deeply sorry Miss Bennet. I didn't expect you to… I mean I had not -." said Mr Darcy fumbling for the right words.

"Mr Darcy, I hope that you are not implying that I am the one responsible for this." Elizabeth pushed his hand away and crossed her arms. Her embarrassment quickly replaced by irritation. It didn't help matters when she noticed a slight smile twisting the corner of his mouth.

"No, no, of course, not. I only meant to - it matters not. Please, try to relax and keep your head tilted back." He said comfortingly, trying not to be amused at how, even now, she could still be cross with him. "Everything will be all right." He then continued his ministrations, every so often searching for a part of his cravat not stained with her blood.

Narrowing her eyes at him in vexation, Elizabeth tried to respond with a sarcastic remark; however, Mr. Darcy was being so attentive, that he kept muffling any attempt at her being able to articulate anything. She gave up trying and had to content herself with a roll of her eyes. He kept muttering under his breath, but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She didn't suppose it mattered much as he didn't seem to be addressing her.

Having him so close, Elizabeth took the opportunity to study his features. He truly was very handsome, whether a scowl adorned his features or not. She could smell the warm, woodsy scent of his skin mixing with a tinge of the spirit he had been indulging in. His stern, full lips, which rarely smiled, sitting above a strong, square, and determined jaw covered with stubble, offered a slightly rugged air to his normally immaculate and prestige appearance. He had a straight aristocratic nose which sat between two high cheekbones. When her gaze moved up to study his eyes, earlier, she had not noticed the dark circles beneath them. He looked tired and weary. Around his eyes, she was surprised to find laugh lines and wondered who had put them there. He had certainly never smiled in her presence before. His grey eyes were framed with impossibly long lashes and contained blue hues and flecks of green rendering them not quite so cold and detached. Before, they had always appeared so merciless and unfeeling, but were now filled with concern, as he tried to clean the blood from her nose with the utmost care. A tousled lock of dark hair fell across his forehead giving him a boyish appearance, so at odds with his usual hauteur, that she wanted to brush it back so that she could see his eyes better. The thought shocked Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy, upon noticing the stiffening of her shoulders, realised his proximity to her was most likely making her uncomfortable and leaned back a fraction. What was the matter with him? Was he incapable of not acting the fool in her presence? At least her nose did not appear to be broken, although she might end up sporting a black eye, which would be hard to explain away. They sat in silence, both preoccupied with their own thoughts for a while awaiting the doctor's arrival. Darcy wondered how much longer it would take for the doctor to get there. He was unsure how much pressure he should apply to her nose. She hadn't said she was in any discomfort, but with his cravat pressed to the lower part of her face, how could she?

He thought of how hard he had tried to erase her from his memory. He had even consorted with a wealthy widow, Lady Hermione Barrington. She had been considered the darling of the ton when she made her come out her first season in London eight years prior. Her parents had pushed her into a marriage with Viscount Durrell, twenty-five years her senior, who passed away three years ago. As lovely as she was, however, her eyes did not sparkle with mischief, her hair did not carry the unique scent of honeysuckle and lemons, and she abhorred nature and being outdoors for fear of catching a too much sun.

Lady Barrington had always been very obvious in her regard towards him, at times being far too forward than was acceptable in polite society. Mr Darcy had been forced to attend a ball hosted by Aunt and Uncle Matlock who were tirelessly trying to find him a wife. He had taken a brief time to escape the crush of the ballroom, she followed and cornered him in one of the mazes. Lady Hermione had caught him at a weak moment, where he had allowed himself to be seduced by her. However, he quickly tired of her simpering ways and her constant compliments, which made her more like Caroline Bingley than his Elizabeth. She had not taken it very well when he called things off and told her he wished to part ways. In fact, he had only just dodged a vase flying at his head as he exited her townhouse which she still lived in, thanks to her son and heir to her husband's title.

Just then, Dr Cooper was announced and ordered more candles lit to illuminate the room. Darcy asked Elizabeth to continue holding his cravat to her nose as he went to apprise Dr Cooper of the details of their accident. After speaking with Darcy in hushed tones, the doctor moved to give Elizabeth a brief examination. He gently removed Mr Darcy's cravat frowning and shaking his head and looking at Mr Darcy over his spectacles, causing a slight redness to appear on Mr Darcy's cheeks. Upon leaning in and looking more closely over the doctor's shoulder, relief coursed through Mr Darcy as he could see that the bleeding had stopped, and the injury did not appear to be so bad as he had thought.

"Mr Darcy, sir, I understand that you are worried for your, ah, 'niece', but I cannot see to her injuries if you continue to block my light!" admonished Dr Cooper. Elizabeth blushed knowing full well the doctor did not believe her to be his niece and studiously looked anywhere but at the good doctor as he continued with his examination.

"Oh, of course. My apologies, Dr Cooper." mumbled Mr Darcy, stepping backwards and roughly raking a hand through his hair coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Who was this easily flappable and endearing man? Was this the real Mr Darcy? wondered Elizabeth. After a few more moments in silence Dr Cooper leant back and declared Elizabeth well. He said there would be some tenderness to the area, but she should not have any noticeable bruising as it would have started to discolour right away. "If you start to experience dizzy spells please contact me, I will come tend to your, ahem, 'niece'. Now miss, I prescribe plenty of fluids to soothe your sore head and no rigorous exercise for the next few days."

"Understood, thank you, doctor." said Elizabeth wincing as she nodded her head, as Mr Darcy escorted him to the door where Jarvis was waiting to see him out. A few words were exchanged, that she could not quite make out, before Mr Darcy turned back to her, informing her that his carriage was waiting outside to take her back to her aunt and uncle home.

"I sincerely thank you, Mr Darcy. I am sorry for disrupting your morning so thoroughly." she said trying to ease the uncertainty that was creeping in now that she was taking her leave.

"Miss Elizabeth, please try not to worry. I will speak with your Uncle later today; we will do everything we can to find Miss Lydia and make sure Mr Wickham does the honourable thing by her." Said Darcy as if sensing her thoughts.

"I thank you, sir. Until this afternoon then..."

"And Miss Elizabeth, do not mention you're coming here to visit me this morning. I will find a way to explain my calling on your family this afternoon." She gave him an assessing look, turning and following Jarvis out of his study.

Darcy watched Elizabeth go, taking in the soft sway of her hips and the elegant way in which she carried herself. He felt a fire in the pit of his stomach and a thrill ran through him. From this moment he would do everything in his power to save Lydia and be a man worthy of Miss Elizabeth. Enough was enough. He would not wallow in self-pity a minute longer. He walked back behind his desk and threw the curtains open ready to seize the day.

"JARVIS!"