Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen, and welcome to Chapter Two of the fanfic.

Thanks much to all of those who have reviewed so far . Lydiby, your note to Darcy is really funny XD.

Hope you like this chapter .

Two weeks later...

Elizabeth took the note down that was taped on her apartment door and frowned at it. As she read what it said, the frown deepened and creases appeared in her forehead.

"Jane... hey Jane! Would you look at this!" Elizabeth waved the note angrily in front of Jane's face.

"What is it now, Lizzy?" Jane snatched the note from her, and her eyes widened slightly as she read it.

"We have to clear out of here for a week?" Disbelief was evident in her voice.

Charlotte, who was standing behind Jane, swiped the note from her, and read it in turn.

"They're spraying for termites?"

"Apparently." Elizabeth scowled. "And now we'll have to find someplace to stay in that week, and I really, really don't want to have to stay with mother for that much time." Elizabeth's mother was one of the reasons that as soon as Elizabeth was sixteen, she had moved out into an apartment on her own. Her mother, of course, had never forgiven her for that, and bothered Elizabeth about it whenever they met. Really, Elizabeth's mother bothered all her daughters about nearly everything, but since Elizabeth had left at such an early age, she was the object of most of the the complaining.

Jane, formerly shocked, began to look worried.

"I don't think we can afford to stay in a hotel for a week... I mean... With the three of us at college and how much living in the city costs anyways I just..." Then an idea seemed to strike Jane, and she smiled brilliantly.

"I know! I'm sure Charles wouldn't mind to take us in, he's got such a huge house that we'd be taking up hardly any space..."

"Hey, whoa on that idea, Jane." Elizabeth looked alarmed. "Charlotte and I hardly even know the guy, plus I cannot imagine that he'd want three college girls hanging around in his house, no matter how big it is. I mean, really. And isn't that Darcy guy staying with him? I'm pretty sure the Darcy guy hates me, you know, and I really don't think I can handle-"

"Elizabeth, darling, you're rambling." Charlotte spoke smoothly, and smiled at Elizabeth. "Why doesn't Jane call Charles, and see what he thinks before you get so set against the idea?"

Jane smiled again and pulled out her cellphone.

Elizabeth sighed.

"Well, why don't we go inside, then? Or I suppose we could hang out in the hallway for a while if you really wanted to, I was just thinking that inside-"

Charlotte laughed, then unlocked the door and swept inside, with Elizabeth following her, making a beeline for the fridge.

"Let's see, we have leftover chicken, leftover pasta, leftover rice, leftover salad... Hey Charlotte! Do we have any food in this place that hasn't been already cooked and left in a refrigerator for at least a week?"

"We have ramen noodles." Charlotte said absently.

"Right. So. Already-cooked and possibly deadly food versus weird dried noodle-food..." Elizabeth sighed dramatically.

"You don't have to find anything to eat." Jane said, a cheerful smile growing on her face as she walked into the miniature kitchen. "Charles said he would be perfectly happy to have us over. He even thought that we should come over and drop of some of our stuff tonight, and then have dinner with him while we're at it."

Elizabeth looked at her sister, her eyes hopeful.

"So... does this mean real, safe food?"

Jane laughed. "Yes, Elizabeth, real, safe food."

"Yay! Real and safe food!" Elizabeth jumped up and skipped around, the thoughts of the Unpleasant Mr. Darcy swept from her mind as anticipation of a week's worth of real and safe food took its place.

And the week begins...

Elizabeth was curled up on a large plush sofa, reading a book and humming softly to herself. She had been at Charles Bingley's house for about a half a day now, and she still couldn't get over what a huge and gorgeous house it was.

Elizabeth peeked over her book and looked around the living room, smiling. The floor was dark wood, and covered with beautiful Persian carpets that were etched with elaborate designs. The drapes covering the huge French windows could only be described as decadent; huge silk sheets that were heavy, royal blue, and frosted with silver. The furniture was gorgeous and elegant, all formed from deep, dark cherry-wood. There was a huge mirror on one of the walls with a decorative silver frame that was polished to perfection, and it was placed so the sunlight blazing into the room through the large windows hit it just so, and refracted brilliantly throughout the room.

Elizabeth sighed happily. If she had enough money and a huge home like this, she would decorate it very similarly. She could see now why Jane had been in such a hurry to get over to Charles's house; with a place as gorgeous as this you'd want to stay in it as long as possible.

It really was too bad that Charlotte had been unable to stay at the house. Her mother had called at the last minute and insisted that Charlotte come visit her, and Charlotte had gone, quite reluctantly.

So Elizabeth snuggled back into the couch again, wiggling her toes happily. There really could be nothing better then a cup of tea, a plush couch, and a book to read. Except maybe if you had chocolate chip cookies as well, but then you'd really need milk instead of tea, so...

Elizabeth's pleasant reverie was interrupted as footsteps sounded in the hallway outside of the living room. Soon she heard the footsteps come into the living room, where they stopped abruptly.

Darcy was not pleased.

First of all, he hadn't even been asked if he wanted Charles's girlfriend and her sister to come and stay for a week. Charles, dripping with nonchalance, had just told Darcy yesterday that the girls were coming over, and Darcy was still quite miffed about this.

At least Darcy had missed the dinner that Charles had invited the girls over to. He really didn't think that he could survive a half-hour's worth of forced conversation with two college-girls.

So Darcy wandered around the house, fuming. Charles had taken the blonde girl out for coffee this morning, leaving the other girl alone in the house with Darcy. Fortunately, Darcy had not run into the other girl yet. And he really hoped he wouldn't. All the younger girls he had ever met seemed to do nothing but squeal about how handsome and talented and rich he was, which irritated him so completely that it made him want to explode.

But just then Darcy walked into the living room and saw a girl with tumbling brown curly hair sitting on his couch.

Oh, damn.

Elizabeth peeked over the top of her book again to find the Unpleasant Man standing in the doorway of the living room.

Darcy. His name is something Darcy, not the Unpleasant Man.

She watched as Darcy walked into the living room very stiffly, obviously uncomfortable with her being in his house.

I guess he really is rather good looking, despite the whole angsty-unpleasant thing that he does. Darcy was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black turtle-neck which set off his slim, muscular body and somehow served to make him look even taller. If it hadn't been for the scowl that seemed to be permanently engraved on his face, Elizabeth would have thought him quite agreeable.

Elizabeth shrugged and turned back to her book, and Darcy sat down on a different couch with a book in his hand.

There was silence in the room, but it was a tense and uncomfortable silence; a silence that existed only because of mutual animosity.

After about a half an hour of the nerve-wracking silence, Elizabeth decided she couldn't take it any more.

"Do you happen to have a phonograph somewhere in this house?"

"A whatagraph?" Darcy was clearly not paying attention.

"A phonograph. You know. A record player."

Darcy frowned at Elizabeth over his book.

"There's one in the corner over there, if you must know."

Elizabeth jumped off the couch lightly and walked out of the room. Darcy immediately relaxed, hoping that the girl wouldn't return.

But luck was not on Mr. Darcy's side this morning, as Elizabeth soon returned to the room with several records in her arms.

You have got to be kidding me. Darcy glared at Elizabeth, infuriated.

Elizabeth, of course, paid no mind to Darcy and sat down in front of the phonograph, sifting through her records. Darcy continued to glare at her as she did this, and Elizabeth eventually turned around.

"You know, I really didn't think it was possible to feel somebody glaring at you; but Mr. Darcy, I'm afraid if you keep doing that you're going to burn a hole in my back."

Darcy gritted his teeth and looked down at his book again, but was much too angry to actually be able to read it.

She didn't even ask if I wanted music on. Just barged back into the living room with her stupid records. Inconsiderate little...Darcy fumed on as Elizabeth tried to decide what sort of music to play.

Elizabeth finally put a record on, and Darcy jumped slightly as what sounded like a throbbing heartbeat filled the room. The throbbing was soon accompanied by noise and finally a person sort of yelling before it abruptly changed into music.

Darcy recognized the song and twitched slightly.

"Must we listen to Pink Floyd?"

Elizabeth turned around, surprised.

"Whatever is wrong with Pink Floyd? They're an excellent group, and besides..."

Elizabeth trailed off as she saw the scowl on Darcy's face. He seemed so dead set against her and her choice of music that she began to become quite annoyed.

"Besides, Charles said I could play whatever records I wanted. So we're playing Pink Floyd."

"I would really rather we didn't."

"Well I really rather don't care what you want to listen to. Pink Floyd is one of my favorite groups, and so I'm going to play this record."

"You could at least have put on something more civilized."

"Civilized? What on earth is that supposed to mean? I don't know what is up with your musical tastes, but they certainly are very screwed up."

Darcy bristled.

"My musical tastes work quite well, thank you. I at least can tell what is good music and what is not, which is an ability that people around me are apparently lacking."

"Well, excuse me Mr. Music Critic!" Now it was Elizabeth's turn to bristle. "I don't know why you think you know more about music then everybody else, but let me assure you I am quite capable of deciding for myself what music and good and what music is not."

"I have yet to see evidence of that."

"For the love of-!" Elizabeth took in a huge breath, clenched her fists and counted to ten.

Darcy smiled smugly and turned back to his book.

There was a silence between the two as the music played on, until Elizabeth decided to break it again.

"So, Mr. Darcy, if you don't like Pink Floyd, what sort of music do you like?"

Darcy glanced at her briefly.

"I like classical music."

"And jazz music, evidently, unless that record you bought in the store earlier was a present for a friend."

Darcy looked up at Elizabeth again.

"It was for my sister."

"So you don't like jazz yourself?"

Darcy was silent for a moment.

"No. It is too unstructured for my tastes."

Elizabeth snorted. "So you only like music that is formulated and scripted, is that it?"

Darcy shrugged. "It seems so."

Elizabeth scowled and turned back to her records, and did not start up a conversation with Darcy again.

So, that's chapter two for you! Hopefully I'll have chapter three up by tomorrow. I was originally going to lump 2 and 3 together, but then decided against it.

And whoever can tell me what Pink Floyd record Elizabeth played gets ten points XD.

So see you next time, and once again, reviews are awesome.