A/N—Would've had this chapter up yesterday, but yesterday was kind of hectic (PSATs, Toy Story double feature, etc.)

Day 6

Once again, William woke from a vivid dream. This one wasn't of the unusual sort—at least, he didn't think so; he'd forgotten it as soon as he woke. All he remembered was that it somehow involved him, with a plate of candy hearts, and Elizabeth, who found something infinitely amusing.

There must've been more to it, though, because upon awakening, he felt very, very good. And not the usual 'yes-I-just-closed-an-amazing-business-deal' kind of good, but something immensely better and (strangely) more satisfying (because what could be more satisfying than closing an amazing business deal?).

Of course, he remembered not of it, so he had no idea why he felt that way.

He was so contented, in fact, that Charles remarked upon it when he first saw William in the morning. This time, they'd run into each other in one of the numerous hallways of Netherfield Manor. William had just finished up breakfast and was on his way to the library for some quiet and privacy. Charles was about to make a run for the closest convenience store.

"Will, are you okay?"

Surprise and confusion adorned Will's features.

"That was a stupid question; of course you're okay," Charles said, shaking his head. "What I mean is, what's got you in such a good mood?"

Will shrugged, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

"Today just feels like it's going to be a good day."

"That's what I like to hear!" Charles crowed, holding a hand up for a high-five. William gladly obliged him. "I don't think I've heard something like that from you in months," Charles admitted. It was probably true, but Will wasn't about to let that bring him down, not when things felt so promising.

"Well, you're hearing it now," he said. "And if you'll excuse me, I need to get to the library."

Charles grinned and stepped to the side.

"Be my guest!"

William smirked and walked on by.

"I already am!"

Charles rolled his eyes, but laughed as he walked in the opposite direction.

Will settled down in a comfortable chair near a window. For a moment, he simply admired the buoyantly optimistic clouds drifting in the clear, blue sky. He noted the trees outside—the crisp, colorful leaves swayed gently in the light breeze. He imagined the weather outside to be perfect, and resolved that after he was finished reading, he would go to the nearby park in order to fully appreciate the picturesque day.

With that in mind, he withdrew the folded brochures from his pocket and examined one's cover. That was the one with the triple-teen alliance, the group that presented a wonderful picture of openness and self-assurance. The text beneath them read 'Your New Feelings: Making Sense of Them.' He opened it up.

'So. It's happened,' it read. 'You woke up one day, feeling completely normal. When you looked in the mirror, though, you immediately noticed something—something surprising and unfamiliar. A small, colored heart was floating above your head! You might have wondered where it came from and what it meant. Well, this is your lucky day. This pamphlet will try to answer most, if not all of your questions.

'Okay… What Just Happened?

'Most likely, you've had your eye on some lucky guy or girl before this heart appeared above your head. The appearance of this heart is directly tied to this. It means your feelings for this person have grown into something deeper than your average crush. This heart is a symbol of first love. It's literally that excess feeling you have for that person—in heart form! Now, you might be wondering a few things right about now. Don't worry, we'll get to them.

'Is This Normal?

'This is completely normal! Every person—well, almost every person—has gone through this at one time or another. It's a sign that you're growing up. It means you're capable of having deep feelings for another person.

'What if I think I'm too young? You may think you're too young to harbor such feelings, but that heart above your head says otherwise. If you have this view, don't sweat it! This doesn't mean you have to get married to the person. In fact, you don't have to do anything at all. It's just like if you have a plate of brownies in front of you. Just because it's there doesn't mean you have to eat any of them. You may not be hungry. You may not like chocolate. You may even be lactose intolerant! You are not required to do anything.

'What if I think I'm too old?'

Ah. Here was where Will's attention was piqued.

'You're never too old to experience love! Everyone is different. Some start later than others. It's just like going through puberty—not everyone does it at the same time.'

Yeah. That made him feel a whole lot better.

'This may indicate that you're more careful in allowing yourself to have feelings for another person. Or, it could just mean you're different. Don't be upset! Being different isn't a bad thing—heck, this culture celebrates being different!

Darcy snorted.

'What exactly is it?

'Floating above your head is a small, colored heart. The heart is filled with delicious chocolate—and yes, you can eat it if you want! More will pop into place until the feelings fade. Just don't eat too many. You might get a toothache!

Different colors mean different things. They indicate the nature of your feelings. Someone with a red heart does not have the same 'love' as someone with a white heart. A list of common colors and their meanings can be found on the back of this pamphlet (Figure 2.1).'

Darcy flipped the pamphlet over and scanned the list for the color red. When he found it, he didn't know whether to smile or to curse.

'Red—Deep Love. Face it. You've fallen and you've fallen hard. Red signals you love another person wholly—you know their flaws, and yet you still embrace their entire personality. Red is quite rare.'

William put the brochure down, letting his hands fall into his lap. He listened to the silence for a few long minutes, reveling in the peace and utter stillness of the moment.

Then, he hunched forward and held his head in his hands.

Cripes.

Now he really wanted a brownie.

William walked down the park path, a bag filled with baked goodies in his hand. He strolled at a leisurely pace, enjoying the crisp breeze and the slight warmth radiating from the bottom of his bag. The air was thick with the scents of fall, but a different smell wafted up to meet his nostrils—that of chocolate. He reached inside the bag and broke of a piece of brownie before bringing it to his lips.

The park was a nice one—fairly large, it had an open field-area with a children's playground off to the side, as well as a wooded area along its fringes. That area had a variety of paths one could get lost on. That was where William currently found himself.

It was quiet, except for the rustling of dried leaves in the wind and the crunching beneath his feet whenever he took a step. Leaves of every warm hue littered the ground and provided a colorful canopy. It was the epitome of serenity.

He was quite surprised when he nearly bumped into someone he knew.

"Elizabeth!" He nearly dropped his bag. She was just as surprised to see him. After he recovered, he practically flushed with pleasure.

She looked, essentially, like she belonged. Her eyes were brightened and she seemed completely at home here among the fall foliage. Once he saw her, the heart inside his chest quickened its pace while the one beneath his hat quivered in elation.

The breeze had blown a leaf into her hair. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out and gently extracted it from her auburn tresses.

"How are you?" he asked with more feeling than he intended. He cleared his throat, embarrassed with himself, and tried to cover it up by awkwardly holding out the white paper bag in his hand. "Brownie?"

She smiled in spite of herself, told him she was doing well, and accepted the proffered treat. He'd sensed that she wasn't exactly pleased to see him for some reason, but his edible peace offering seemed to mollify her for the time being.

"Thanks. These are still warm!" she exclaimed in surprised delight. She closed her eyes, savoring the semisweet delicacy. Darcy smiled.

"Yeah, I just got them from the bakery," he said.

"The one across from the library?"

"Yeah."

"They have the best apple turnovers, too."

They'd unconsciously started to walk again, continuing on the path side by side. Their pace was a languid one.

"My mom actually worked there for a while," she continued. "She actually came up with the recipe for these brownies."

"Really?" he asked with interest. "I can actually imagine that. Your mother can do some amazing things with food."

Lizzy laughed.

"It's one of her few good qualities."

Although William agreed, he didn't quite think it appropriate to agree verbally. He settled for a smirk.

After that, they lapsed into silence. William didn't know what to do with himself and grew self conscious. He snuck glances at Elizabeth and observed that she had gone to eyeing him with suspicion.

He desperately wanted to end the silence.

"So… the weather's really nice to day, huh?"

Lizzy looked at him for a moment before she burst out laughing. The wind kicked up at that time, blowing about a myriad of leaves that swirled around them like falling snow.

"Really? We're discussing the weather?"

William found himself smiling.

"It's true, isn't it? This autumn has been very mild."

"It's global warming."

"It's definitely the economy."

"What, we can't afford to pay for normal weather patterns?"

"Exactly."

William was happy. It had been a long time since he could say that and really mean it. And what was the source of his happiness? The person at his side. He'd known her for barely three weeks, and here he was laughing and joking with her as if they'd been friends for years.

It was the first time he'd felt that being "in love" wasn't just a huge pain in the fanny. He thought he finally realized why people might actually enjoy it.

And then, of course, he went and spoiled it.

"What brings you to the park today, anyway, Elizabeth?"

Something in her air changed, but her outward appearance remained the same.

"I'm actually meeting someone here in a while."

"Oh?" Darcy lifted his brows. "Who?"

Lizzy smiled coolly at him.

"George. George Wickham."

He wished he held his tongue.

"Ah." He withdrew—not physically, exactly, but the openness he had displayed before was completely done away with. "What time?" he asked stiffly.

She took out her cell phone to check the time.

"Pretty soon," she admitted. "He's supposed to be here by now."

"Is he?" Will asked flatly. A wheel turned in his mind. With an unreadable smile, he then asked, "Would you mind if he and I talked a bit before you… do whatever it is you're going to do?"

He got a bad taste in his mouth just thinking about the possibilities of what they could be doing. George was a very persuasive man, and he had a way with the ladies…

He cut his thoughts off. He did not want his mind to travel in that direction.

"Sure," she said, her look questioning.

His mood was steadily improving.

"Brownie?" he offered with a smile.

They sat on the swings, waiting.

It was noon. George had been officially late for an hour now. Both of their stomachs were growling for want of food.

"You hungry?" Will asked. "I can go get us some sandwiches from the bakery, if you want."

"That sounds good," Lizzy answered. She pulled out her wallet and began to hand him some bills. He shook his head.

"That's okay. It's on me."

It did not sit well with Lizzy, but she wasn't one to pass up free food. She let him go with little protest.

12:30. Will arrived with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for them both. He'd also picked up two drinks.

He gave Lizzy her share.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, handing her a glass bottle. "I didn't know what you wanted, but I remember you saying you liked that drink, so I got it."

She lifted her brows, but accepted it with gratitude. The glass chilled her hands and a strong gust of wind made them pull their jackets a bit tighter around them before they began to eat.

1:00. Two hours after the scheduled meeting time, George was still nowhere to be found. It was getting windier, and the wind now had a bite to it. Will and Lizzy's cheeks were a rosy red, their noses nearly numb.

Lizzy was not happy.

"Where could he possibly be?" Will asked the air.

"Maybe he got lost," Elizabeth grumbled.

Will didn't believe it. This town wasn't big enough to get lost in. He turned to her.

"Do you have his number?"

This did nothing to improve her mood.

"No," she answered. "I forgot to ask. He said he'd call me, anyway."

"Have you received a call?"

He was answered with a clenched jaw and a flashing of the eyes.

"You know, this isn't the first time he's done this," Darcy murmured.

"Done what?"

"Not show up."

Lizzy was silent.

"We were practically brothers when we were younger."

"He said as much," Lizzy acknowledged with a dangerous edge to her voice. William did not miss this.

"Once, when we were younger, I asked him to pick my sister up from school. She was ten and I was twenty; I'd just started gaining a foothold in Pemberley Enterprises—"

"I thought you were the CEO, son of the CEO or something. Weren't—aren't—you a little young?"

"I was. I am." He looked at her. "My father trained me for the position practically since I could walk. My dad had a lot of influence, but I had to prove to my colleagues I was capable of performing. Not many of them respected me because I was so green; the board was constantly on my back for any little thing they could find. I was working to establish a good reputation for myself, and so I had to stay late. I would have asked my cousin Richard to do it, or even Charles, but Rich was busy with some coursework and Charles was on vacation. So the only person I could turn to was George. I'd made all the arrangements—called the school to tell them he'd be picking her up today, gave them his cell number in case they needed to contact him, the whole nine."

He looked over and saw a squirrel watching them in a nearby tree with disinterest. He tried not to get angry.

"He left her there for four hours."

He looked to Lizzy and saw her surprise.

"Why?"

His smile was a bitter one.

"Said he forgot."

"Are you kidding?"

William sighed and ran his hand through his hair. How did they even get on this topic, anyway?

"Saying the Trix rabbit deserves to have Trix would be like saying a drug addict deserves to get high!" he contended.

"It would not! How would you feel if something you really wanted was constantly dangled in front of your face, but you could never have it?" she countered.

Well. That hit a little bit close to home, now, didn't it?

"Life's not fair, Elizabeth. We can't all get what we want all the time."

"Really!" She seemed surprised he said that. "The target audience for these commercials is children. Children! You want their poor little hearts to be broken prematurely by the harsh realities of life?"

"Their poor little hearts? It would be steeling their poor little hearts against the disappointments of the real world!"

"They're children. They don't need to know about the 'real world' just yet. They need innocence; what's the point of trying to have a normal childhood if they don't have it?"

"Innocence! Well, then, tell me what's so innocence about a character who constantly uses trickery and deception to try to get what he wants!"

"He's desperate! Do you want our kids to grow up selfish and greedy? Because that's what these commercials are teaching them."

"So just because he's desperate, it's okay for him to be fraudulent? They're not being selfish or greedy so much as they're upholding the rules. You know the slogan. That rabbit has no right to even be asking for that stuff."

"Oh, so you've never tried to get something you weren't strictly allowed to have?"

"What if it's for his own good? What if those products have ingredients in them that are harmful to animated rabbits? If you drop a piece of chocolate on the floor, a dog will try to eat it."

"Nowhere does it say those things are harmful to rabbits."

"So? Trix doesn't advertise to rabbits. Why would they label it?"

"You know how kids are. They'll feed their pets anything!"

"Well, then, let's go back to the dog-and-chocolate scenario. There are a million and one chocolate and chocolate-based products directed towards children. They don't come labeled as bad for pets. I bet that's why there's no more Cookie Crisp dog."

"What?"

"The Cookie Crisp dog was always eating Cookie Crisp. A chocolate-chip-cookie-based cereal. He probably got sick. Or, kids thought it was okay to give their dogs chocolate chip cookies, so the company changed their mascot to a wild animal, which kids can't feed."

"But you're contradicting yourself! A few seconds ago, you were saying they shouldn't label these things as bad for pets, while your example clearly supports labeling."

"Oh, no. What I meant was, since Trix isn't labeled, if you show the rabbit eating Trix, kids might think it's okay to feed pets Trix, when, in truth, it might be harmful to animals. Kids learn from exposure. Show them feeding a dog chocolate and they'll feed a dog chocolate."

"Show them sharing and they'll learn to share."

"Show them successful scheming and they'll become con artists."

It was at this moment that the wind, which was listening to their debate with amusement, decided to end the ridiculous exchange by providing a diversion. An unusually powerful gust blew a wave of leaves in a massive tsunami toward Will and Lizzy.

It, therefore, had the power to blow Will's cap off.

Which it did.

As soon as the cap left his noggin, making it feel decidedly naked, he brought his hands up to try to catch it. He missed the hat, but managed to envelop the candy heart, neatly hiding it from view. His pulse skyrocketed and a dull panic bloomed in his chest.

Without hesitation, he started chasing after his hat, transferring the heart to one hand in order to run faster. The wind taunted him; as soon as he was upon the hat, the gale kicked up again, sending the headwear far out of Will's reach. The candy heart grew hot and sticky, slowly melting against his palm.

At last, he was spared. He caught the baseball cap and put it back on, sticking the heart underneath with a look of disgust. He would have to wash his hair extra well tonight.

When he returned, he found Elizabeth laughing at him. He scowled at her, but not for long—her laugh was as infectious as it was enchanting, and soon he was smiling in spite of himself.

While William tried to covertly wash his hand using a bit of water from a water bottle and napkins left over from lunch, Lizzy received a phone call. She was still chuckling when she answered her mobile communication device.

"Hello? …Oh, hey, Jane!"

William did not mean to eavesdrop, but there was really nothing more for him to do.

"Yeah… really? Four hours? Funny. …Nothing… no, I guess we're done here." She laughed. "I'll tell you at home. See you soon…. Bye."

William looked at her curiously.

"It's three o'clock. I'm not waiting for this guy anymore. Sorry you didn't get to talk to him. I really should get going, though."

Will shrugged.

"It's alright."

He wanted to say something along the lines of, he thought he had spent his time much better, but he couldn't figure out how to articulate his thoughts without his looking like a fool.

"Did you walk here?" he asked. He thought she might have. Walking seemed like her thing.

"Yeah," she answered, confirming his thoughts.

"Would—" He cut himself off. He didn't want to push himself on her, of course. He'd had four hours to spend with Lizzy. He should content himself with that.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing."

Elizabeth gave him a look.

"What?"

"What were you going to say?"

"Nothing! I was just going to ask if I could walk with you." He wasn't able to look at her, so couldn't tell if she noticed the slight reddening of his cheeks.

"Oh. But Netherfield is in the opposite direction."

"I know. I realized that. It's okay, I'm sure you've had enough of me for one day." He gave her a smile, showing that he didn't mind if that were true (but, actually, he did). She smirked.

"Indeed sir, you tire me with your company," she declared dramatically. He gave her a courtesy chuckle. "Seriously though," she continued, "I don't want to take you out of your way."

He nodded.

"Alright, then. See you around, I guess."

"Sure."

There were no lingering glances, no last parting words. They turned and left in a professional and businesslike manner.

During his trek through town, Darcy discovered quite an interesting sight. He passed a café and saw a man with a familiar face inside seated at a table, looking like he was flirting shamelessly with a waitress. Will's visage darkened as he recognized who it was, but then he realized he'd hit upon the opportunity he'd wanted. He took a deep breath, smoothed out his features, and walked inside.

He plastered a smile on his face and pulled out a chair at the man's table. The waitress was gone by the time he sat down.

"George! What a surprise."

George Wickham visibly blanched, but quickly schooled his countenance into a confident (and sleazy, as perceived by William) smirk.

"Will! Fancy meeting you here. It's been what, four, five years? How's Georgie?"

At the mention of his sister, William nearly cracked. How dare Wickham be so audacious, so malicious? He focused on the beads of sweat collected on the glass of soda in front of George. He was worried he might break something if he had to look at George's face for more time than absolutely necessary. (And that thing would most likely be George's face. Then he might face a lawsuit, and then what would he do?)

A muscle is his jaw twitched.

When William decided it was safe enough, he dropped the smile and glared at him full on. George's eyes were sneering and superior. Beneath that, thought, William could detect fear.

Good.

Let him be afraid.

"So you stood her up."

George lifted a brow.

"Stood who up?" he simpered.

"You know very well who."

"I'm afraid I don't. What's her name? Or better yet—," he leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows, "—describe her for me."

William grabbed the salt shaker and squeezed. He imagined it was Wickham's head.

Then he realized that was exactly what Wickham wanted him to do. George always knew he could get under the normally even-tempered Mr. Darcy's skin. It was his signature. An angry Darcy could no longer be a rational Darcy.

William resolved to remain as calm as possible, or, if that failed, to keep his anger and disgust as carefully hidden as possible. He quirked a brow.

"Elizabeth Bennet. You stood her up."

"What, did she come crying to you? Funny, she gave the impression she didn't really like you."

Ouch. That hurt. Then again, that was Wickham talking. Every word spewing from his mouth could very well be a lie. With his track record, Will would have a hard time believing him if he said, 'Hello, my name is George Wickham.'

"We bumped into each other at the park. I wanted to have a little chat with you, so I waited with her. For four hours. Why didn't you ever show?"

George shrugged.

"Forgot."

Will's blood boiled.

"I think it would be in your best interest if you stayed away from her and her family," Will said coolly.

"Really?" George asked dryly. "How so?"

William smiled sweetly.

"Use your imagination."

George smiled back at him. The unease was blatant in his eyes.

At that time, the waitress came back with a sandwich. George dropped all appearances of being uncomfortable, thanking her with a smile and a wink. She scurried away with a blush on her cheeks.

"I hate you."

Oops. He didn't mean for that to slip out.

George smiled again.

"The feeling's mutual, darlin'."

Will's business was done. With his message successfully conveyed, he left the place, thinking he probably would never set foot in it again.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trix or Cookie Crisp, or anything. I don't even own Mrs. Bennet's brownie recipe. :C

(And Darcy's CEO that young because he's just that awesome.)