AN: I am the worst updater in the world. But, I did go back through the other chapters and edit them (changed a few minor things). And here is the new chapter!

Chapter Six

"So things are going well for you and Greg then?" Carter asked as he chewed on a straw.

Lizzie and Carter had been lounging around the gallery ever since Luke had called to tell them he wasn't coming back that day and they could stop working.

"Yeah. It's been great. He's very handsome." Lizzie smiled to herself. "Sexy," she added.

Carter raised an eyebrow at her. "Sexy, huh? I'm trying to remember the last time you went out with someone sexy."

Lizzie laughed. "Um. That would be never. Sweet or funny or talented. But never sexy."

"Hang on," said Carter sitting up. "I'm trying to remember the last time you went out with someone."

Lizzie glared at him then shrugged. "Can I help it if all the men I've met so far are either boring or idiots?"

"Or not interested," Carter pointed out helpfully.

"Hey, if they aren't interested, I'm not interested."

"That's convenient. So, what? Is Greg not sweet or funny or talented? "

Lizzie thought a moment. "No, not really," she said, sounding surprised. "Well, he's more charming than sweet or funny. And he may be talented, but I don't know at what. Lacrosse, I assume."

"You assume?" Carter laughed. "Liz, you've been out with this guy three times! Don't you know anything about him?"

Lizzie sat straight up. "Oh! I can't believe I haven't told you this before! Guess what? Greg and Darcy have known each other since they were kids."

Lizzie told a rapt Cater all about Greg's childhood and what Darcy had done to him.

"Can you believe it?" she said heatedly. "That jerk took away his college education! I was holding out hope that Darcy wasn't a complete asshole but now it seems that the only thing he has going for him is that Charlie is his friend. Which, come to think of it, doesn't reflect too well on Charlie."

"You were holding out hope for Darcy?"

"Shut up."

Carter shrugged. "Well, you didn't go to college either, Lizzie, and you're doing fine."

"That's different," she snapped. "Greg wanted to go and now he can't."

"Well, if he's as good a lacrosse player as you assume he is then he should be able to get a scholarship somewhere."

Lizzie's phone beeped. She looked at it and groaned. "Benjamin texted me. I told him I'd show him around the gallery."

"Why in God's name did you do that?"

"Apparently he's leaving the day before the opening and he was so disappointed that he couldn't be there he asked if I would give him a tour before he left so he could see it."

"Aww," Carter pinched Lizzie's cheek.

"Get away," she laughed as she tried to swat him. "I'm just glad he's not coming to the opening. It's going to be hard enough with my parents there. Besides, I think he still has a crush on Jane and I'm trying to give her a break."

Carter stood up. "How noble of you. Well, I'm going to go so I don't catch him. I told Karen I'd stop by on my way back to the garage."

Lizzie walked him to the door. "Karen, huh? How's that going?"

Carter grinned at her. "Lovely! She's sweet and funny…and, oh boy is she talented." He pretended to swoon.

"Gross!" laughed Lizzie. "Wow. Look at us! We have romantic lives!"

"Don't jinx it!" He whispered fiercely. "Ok, I'm gonna go before Numbnuts McGee gets here." Carter slung his jacket over his shoulder and sped out the door.

"Bye!"

Lizzie flopped back down on the couch to wait for Benjamin. While he hadn't been as slimy as she had first suspected, he was very awkward. Pompously awkward, if that were possible. She laughed to herself. He really was quite funny—as long as you kept him at a distance. She imagined that if he wasn't staying with them she would find him hilarious.

Benjamin had been good for one thing. Since he'd arrived Lizzie had been calling her father once a day to report on Collins and they spent a long time laughing about him on the phone.

"Seriously, Dad, it's a shame you aren't here," Lizzie told him one night. "He hasn't been able to stop talking about this one house he and his boss have been trying to fix up. Apparently, he is the new personal assistant to some old bat who is redecorating her office building. He went on for a half hour about an $8,000 fireplace she bought for it. Why an office building needs a fireplace, I have no idea. I thought Lydia was going to hit him over the head with her plate."

"It sounds like he's turned out as wonderful as I'd hoped. I wish there were time for him to come stay over here with me so I could witness it up close."

"Don't say that, Dad, it almost happened. Don't think I didn't try to pawn him off on you. But I don't think the apartment over the garage is glamorous enough for him. He prefers the city, unfortunately. It's too bad you'll miss him. He leaves before the opening at the gallery."

Lizzie hesitated before proceeding. This was a touchy subject. "So you and mom are both going to be there, right? I didn't hear wrong?"

Lizzie heard her father pause. "No, you didn't hear wrong."

"Well, what's going on? How's that going to work?"

Mr. Bennet heaved a sigh. "Nothing's going on, kiddo. We just both wanted to be there and we were both invited. Luke invited me because he knows I really admire this artist and, well… your mother is his sister so I assume that she's been invited as well."

Lizzie was still confused. "But I still don't understand. Why do you have to be there at the same time? You should know, Jane is bringing a special friend and I've invited one of my favorite teachers whom I really respect. If you and Mom can't hold it together—"

"Excuse me?" Lizzie's dad interrupted roughly. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Do I embarrass you?"

"No, Dad. You don't embarrass me."

"Why should I not go to the opening of an exhibit I've been invited to because my ex-wife wants to go and troll for a rich new husband?"

Lizzie was silent. She'd learnt the hard way not to interrupt when one of her parents was railing on the other.

"Listen, Lizzie. I know people who are important to you and Jane will be there. I'd like to meet them. I'll avoid your mother—what happened last time won't happen again, I promise."

"You can't promise that, Dad. You know you can't."

"Elizabeth, I'll do my damnedest."

Lizzie resigned herself. "I know. I'm sorry. And I am glad you're coming. It's been too long since you've visited me in the city. "

Lizzie jumped as she felt someone sit next to her on the couch.

"Oh, Benjamin. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"Elizabeth," he began with a furrowed brow. "Please forgive me for my tardiness. I was waiting for Jane to return home safely. She was out with a man and I thought it would be better if someone were waiting for her."

Lizzie stood and looked at him. "Jane's a big girl, you don't have to do that for her. Besides, Charlie is a gentleman."

Benjamin stood to face her, aghast. "I'm surprised that you can be so nonchalant about your own sister. I'd like to think that my siblings would care more for my well-being, had I been lucky enough to have any." He smarmily brushed invisible lint off his shirt.

Lizzie gave him a funny look and waited for him to say he was joking. She should have known better. How the hell was she going to get this loser to back off of her sister? Smiling slightly, she said, "Well, they're nearly engaged anyway, so I prefer not to interfere in case I accidentally ruin the moment." She gave him a meaningful look

Eventually she saw the realization dawn on him. He scratched his chin which was sporting some random hairs Lizzie took as Benjamin's version of a goatee. "Oh, I see," he said thoughtfully. He looked Lizzie up and down trying, she supposed, to see if she was telling the truth. He showed his gums as he smiled at her. "Well, would you mind showing me your exquisite gallery?"

Elizabeth showed him around, but was on autopilot. Talking about Jane had got her thinking. In truth, she wasn't sure how close Jane and Charlie were. They'd been spending quite a bit of time together, that was certain. And usually Jane and Lizzie held nothing back about the men they were dating, but Jane had been unusually silent about Charlie. Why? Lizzie hadn't been guarded about her time with Greg. Why wasn't Jane talking about her new…boyfriend? Was he a boyfriend? Lizzie was startled to find that she didn't know. Maybe she'd been so wrapped up in the gallery opening and Greg to pay attention.

She led Benjamin around the older part of the gallery—the part that hadn't been refurbished for the opening—as she explained everything with a thoroughness she usually reserved for art students or connoisseurs. Since she had to withstand an $8000 fireplace lecture, she decided that Benjamin had it coming.

Eventually, Benjamin decided that he'd had enough. After five minutes of assuring him that she still had work to do at the gallery (which was true) and that Uncle Luke would be there to see her home safely (which was entirely untrue), he left a bit angry with her, she thought, for not letting him be of use.

The only work she really had to do was clean up the office and make sure Luke's phone messages were left where he could find them—taped to his computer screen.

Lizzie grabbed her things and locked the gallery as she left. The sun was setting and the wind was blowing her hair all over the place. Thinking of Jane she began to hurry towards the bus stop when she heard someone yelling her name. Turning around, the wind blew her hair into her face and when she finally got it out of the way she was staring into Darcy's dark brown eyes.

From a mutual desire of being near Lizzie and being far away from Caroline Darcy actually raised his voice to get someone's attention. He saw Caroline's gaping expression out of the corner of his eye and, ignoring it, collected himself before walking briskly over to where Lizzie was standing stock still.

He suddenly felt an urge to run in the opposite direction before he said anything humiliating. He opened his mouth.

"Is-is the gallery closed?" Did he just stutter? "I was hoping to see it. Caroline, too," he added, trying to remember his manners.

Lizzie looked over his shoulder to where Caroline was picking her nails.

The sun was setting behind Darcy and it shone on Lizzie's face and hair and in her eyes. But she didn't squint. They were now a light blue as she looked up at him.

"It is closed. I'd show you around but I kinda have to get home now." She shifted her weight and adjusted her bag. It looked heavy. "Sorry," she added, and he realized that he'd just been staring at her.

"Oh, it's okay. Another time. Let's all get a cab home."

Caroline had kept the cab they arrived in waiting and was looking at Darcy expectantly. Lizzie turned and started to point down the street. "But the bus—it's really no big deal—"

"Not at all, we have a cab ready to go," Darcy gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile and held his hand out to take her bag. She looked at him skeptically—because he was trying to take her bag?—before hefting her bag onto his outstretched hand. His arm sank under the weight of it as she said "thanks" and made her way to the cab.

"What's in here anyway?" he asked as he got into the cab after Caroline.

Lizzie shrugged. "A canvas or two, paints, an easel, brushes, my sketchbook, pencils, some files from the gallery. Just the usual stuff."

Darcy passed the bag across Caroline's lap (who grimaced when it came near her) to Lizzie.

"How long does it take you to finish a painting?" He wanted her to keep talking about herself. He was insanely curious.

Lizzie looked out the window of the cab. "It really depends. On my mood mostly."

"Do you paint better when you're happy or when you're sad?"

Lizzie quickly turned to look at him. Had he gone too far? Too personal, perhaps?

"It's not really like that." She looked out the window again. "I think—I think it depends on how strong the feelings are, rather than their particular nature."

Darcy was taken aback at her frankness. He hadn't expected something so intimate from her. Although it made sense. She was talking about her artwork here. He gulped and decided to see what else he could get from her today.

"How fast did you finish the one you were working on at Charlie's?"

This time Lizzie paused long enough for Caroline to interrupt them, damn her.

"Lizzie, my dear, have you ever been to the ballet?"

What? What the hell was she going on about?

"Um, no." Lizzie looked at Caroline and Darcy thought she seemed relieved at the change of subject.

"Darcy and I love the ballet. We were at Lincoln Center just last night to see a world premiere. I was telling Darcy how I think that ballet is the most perfect form of art there is. Bodies in motion, you know. Don't you agree Darcy?"

He wanted to throw Caroline out of the cab. "Dance is a wonderful art form," he managed to grumble.

Caroline took this as a shining endorsement to go on about the ballet until they arrived outside Lizzie's apartment building.

"Well, this is me," she said, quickly grabbing her bag and throwing a few bills at the cabbie as she swung out the door.

Darcy started. "No, Lizzie, I was going to take care—"

"Don't worry about it guys!" she said happily

Darcy climbed over Caroline to get out of the car after her. "Wait—"

"Hey, Lizzie, I was waiting for you!"

Darcy looked up to see Greg Wickham striding towards Lizzie from the entrance of her apartment building and Lizzie, rooted to the spot, looking quickly between Greg and himself.

Lizzie didn't want a scene. She didn't want a scene. No! She was feeling so out of it after the revealing conversation in the car. She already felt emotionally slutty and she basically wanted to high tail it into her apartment and let the boys be boys out on the street.

She saw Greg catch sight of Darcy and stop in his tracks, the genial smile wiped from his face. He looked grim. Darcy looked like a stone statue: completely expressionless and either unable or unwilling to move.

Greg took a step towards her, still looking at Darcy. "I'd heard you were in town," he said calmly. And Lizzie was proud of him for standing up to Darcy.

"I wonder then why you didn't pack up and leave immediately."

Greg dropped his head and Lizzie threw a scathing look Darcy's way. Seeing her, Darcy got back into the cab and it pealed away so fast that Lizzie swore she could smell burning rubber.

Greg watched as the car turned a corner and disappeared. He shook his head. "Well, that's over. I knew I'd see him eventually. At least now I'm not waiting for the bomb to drop."

Lizzie took a step towards him, her head swimming with emotions. "Greg, I'm so sorry. He offered me a ride home and wouldn't take no for an answer. I would never have let him if I knew you were here."

He smiled down at her and took a strand of hair in his hand. "You couldn't have known."

"Why were you here, anyway?"

He looked like he was trying hard to remember. "Ummm. Oh yeah." He bent his head down and kissed her.

Ewww! I know, but I couldn't resist! Heh heh heh. Next chapter is the Netherfield Ball, oops! I mean the gallery opening. (I've been waiting ages to get to that part.)