This chapter is a little action-heavy, and will probably get a few of you.......okay, most of you ticked at Wickham, if not down-right murderous. I almost strangled the man myself.

Disclaimer: Again, short and sweet: I disclaim!

Elizabeth opened the book she was reading to the front cover. She gasped in shock; the piece of paper she had put there was missing. What had happened to it? Had it fallen outside? At Will's house? In his car? Where? Then something else occurred to her. What if he found it? Would he read it? What would he think?

She knew she could just be nonchalant about it, pretend that it wasn't really anything, but she also knew that Will would be concerned no matter what. She knew she should long to see Will, that he was, as written, the one who came to save, but now she couldn't help dreading it.

***

Will was frustrated. It had been weeks since Elizabeth had dropped her poem in his house, and he hadn't seen her in all that time. He wondered, not for the first time, if she was avoiding him because she didn't want to talk about the poem. She didn't need to; he had resolved not to bring it up, to only say anything if she started the conversation, but he knew that she didn't know that.

It was true that he himself hadn't been all that available in the time. He had been finishing moving in, working out how to work best from the office closest to his new home, but he had at least made attempts to see her. She, however, always seemed to have some excuse: her job, helping her father, and going out with George numbered among them.

Will massaged his temples, then stood up, moving towards the door in response to the doorbell. He swung it open to reveal Elizabeth Bennet, her lip split, a fresh cut on her cheek, her blouse torn, and rapidly-purpling bruises dotting her face and arms. He noted all this in less than three seconds, because that was all the time it took for her to throw herself into his arms.

"Elizabeth!" he gasped, his arms wrapping around her seemingly of their own accord as her body began to shake with silent sobs. She seemed to be in shock, and probably wouldn't be moving under her own power in the near future. Will did the only natural, and kind, thing. He swept Elizabeth up into his arms, toed the door shut, and carried her over to the nearest couch. He called to one of his maids to bring Elizabeth something to drink. By the time the woman had come and gone, Elizabeth had enough control over herself to tell Darcy what had happened.

With little surprise, Darcy learned that it had been George who had done this. The other man had arranged to meet Elizabeth outside a bar a bit earlier. When Elizabeth had arrived, not five minutes late, it had been obvious that George had been drinking, and heavily. He had accused Elizabeth of being with Will, and her protestations that she hadn't seen him in weeks had only made George angrier. He had dragged her into the small alley beside the bar and proceeded to beat the living crap out of her. It had only been upon given the chance to apply the single judo throw that she knew that Elizabeth had gotten away. She had then run from the bar to Will's house, conveniently much closer than her own home.

Upon finishing the story, Elizabeth sagged against Will. His arms wrapped around her again, and he kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Wasn't your fault," Elizabeth replied.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you," Will told her.

Elizabeth sighed. "I don't need a body guard," she assured him. "I've gotten through it fine before now."

"And yet you still came here," Will pointed out, not unkindly.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "Maybe I don't want to do it by myself anymore."

"You don't have to," Will told her. "I'm here, and I always will be, I promise."

"You mean it?" Elizabeth asked. She turned to face Will, probably with the intention of looking him directly in the eye.

"I just promised, didn't I?" Will asked, and, without waiting for an answer, pressed his lips to hers.

He heard her whimper slightly, and belatedly remembered her torn lip. She wouldn't, however, let him pull away, so he got a better grip on her and pulled her against his chest, his lips moving softly against hers.

"Mr. Darcy?" The maid's voice broke the two apart, though Elizabeth remained within the circle of Will's arms.

"Yes?" Will responded.

"Telephone, sir. I wouldn't have interrupted, but it's one of those detectives you hired," the maid said.

A hopeful look graced Elizabeth's face, and Will smiled. "Thank you, Susan," he said as the maid handed him the phone. Elizabeth removed herself from his arms as he began speaking into the phone. The short conversation was heartening, and Will had every expectation of seeing Elizabeth smile when he told her.

"My hired men," Will began, only to be interrupted.

"You make them sound like headhunters," Elizabeth commented with a small smile.

Will laughed. "Maybe they are. Anyway, I hired three detectives to find out all they could on your case, and they just reported that they found solid evidence, quite a bit of it, too, that our man is one George Wickham. They have an official report ready to hand over to the police, and I had them add charges of domestic violence to the list as well."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "Well, we'll definitely be able to get him for that." Then she looked worried. "You'll be there with me, right Will?"

"Every step of the way, sweetheart. I told you, I'll always be there for you."