Hello again! The bulk of these conversations happen in January during Lizzie's brief — but memorable — time at Pemberley Digital.
January
Lizzie rolls over onto her back, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder. It's strange to be making herself comfortable in this new apartment, but the uncomfortableness of the previous afternoon has exceeded any misgivings she had about the appropriateness of house sitting.
"Jane, he was just there. We must have stared at each other for a good ten seconds. It was so awkward."
"What did he say?" Jane's voice is soothing over the phone, even if she is eight hours away in Los Angeles. Lizzie wishes she could see her sister over Skype, but her damn phone is malfunctioning again.
"He was…" Lizzie pauses, takes a breath. Jane can always tell when Lizzie is fudging the truth, even if she doesn't call her out on it. "He was actually really nice. He offered me a ride to dinner and said to let him know if I needed anything. And I think he really meant it."
"Of course he meant it," Jane says. "Darcy isn't the kind of person who says something without really meaning it."
"Well, exactly!" Lizzie exclaims, rolling over again and staring at the ceiling in frustration. "That's exactly it. He doesn't say something without really meaning it."
"So?"
"So am I just supposed to ignore the fact that he said all those terrible things about me? About all of us?" Lizzie huffs a breath out. This is the crux of her confusion, and it's immensely bothersome to her that she's even confused at all. She is used to considering Darcy as a robot, an unfeeling sociopath. Thinking that she might have to consider him as anything else — anything more, well, whole — is completely frustrating.
Thinking that he might even be a little bit attractive just makes it even worse.
Jane clears her throat the way she usually does when she's about to say something she know Lizzie won't like. "Lizzie, you yourself said that you were a little harsh on Darcy."
"So?"
"So, maybe Darcy was a little harsh on us too. Maybe he isn't the only one whose opinion has changed in the past few months."
"I never said my opinion changed —"
"All I'm saying is, maybe give him the benefit of the doubt, ok?"
Jane never interrupts. Lizzie isn't sure whether she should smile that New Jane is still going strong or frown because New Jane is telling Lizzie things she doesn't want to hear. Her mouth ends up somewhere in a straight line, which she again directs at the ceiling.
"New Jane interrupts. Old Jane never interrupted."
"Old Jane was too busy thinking of ways not to step on people's toes. New Jane realizes that it's ok to step on your sister's toes sometimes."
"Just as long as I'm not wearing any fabulous heels, right?" Lizzie smiles into the phone. She misses her sister.
"I doubt you'll be wearing many pairs of killer heels in San Francisco. Not with those hills."
"Yeah, they can be quite unforgiving," Lizzie says, without even thinking. She feels blood rush to her face. What?
If Jane recognizes the now-colloquial phrase, she doesn't let on. "Ok, I need to go make dinner. I love you, Lizzie."
"I love you too, Jane. I miss you."
"I miss you too. Have a good night. And Lizzie?"
"Hmm?"
"Cut Darcy some slack. He may end up surprising you."
"That's doubtful," Lizzie says, with more conviction than she feels.
"Good night."
"Bye."
William has just come down the stairs for breakfast when he sees them sitting atop his briefcase.
"Gigi?" he asks, a suspicious edge to his voice. "Do you happen to know how this particular cap and bow tie ended up on my briefcase this morning?"
Gigi sets her tennis bag down and smiles wickedly. "I think they wanted to be freed from the constraints of your closet and would find a much more comfortable home at Pemberley."
He gives her a look that's half amused and half frustrated. "And my work desk is so much less constraining than my personal closet at home."
"You've got those big windows at work! They just want to see a little bit of the city, William," she says. Sometimes her silly moods irritate him, but she pushes through anyway. It's good for him to be around some silliness sometimes. It's not as if he'd ever willingly seek it out himself.
And there is nothing sillier than Lizzie Bennet's costume theater, particularly that big blue hat and drawling Southern accent. She can just picture the gifs: William Darcy in the flesh in a newsboy cap and bow tie. Gigi thinks Lizzie's fans would die of glee.
The look William is giving her quite obviously reveals that he clearly knows what she's up to. Abandoning all pretense, Gigi exclaims, "You never know when a little costume theater might be in order. Just think — you could play yourself!"
William smiles. It's a little sad, and a little too fleeting, but it's there. "I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, but if I do I shall rest assured knowing that I came prepared."
Stepping over her tennis gear, Gigi walks over to her brother, pushes up on her tiptoes, and kisses him on the cheek. "I just want things to be well-ordered for you."
He quirks an eyebrow, grabs his briefcase and costume theater gear, kisses her cheek and is out the door.
"Say hi to Lizzie for me!" she calls out, her grin returning as she hauls her tennis bag over her shoulder and prepares to leave herself.
"Jane," Lizzie pants into the phone as she treads up one particularly steep climb, still puzzled as images of that afternoon's costume theater pop into her head. "Jane, guess what."
"What?"
"He did it."
"Who did what?"
"Darcy," Lizzie says, and she feels her lips curve upward into an involuntary smile, thinking of a certain newsie hat and bow tie. "He surprised me."
Jane laughs, and Lizzie's heart feels much lighter than it has in a while.
"I hate to say it," Jane says. Lizzie has the feeling that New Jane is going to say it anyway. "But I told you."
Lizzie and Gigi are out to lunch, and Lizzie waits until the server has brought them their drinks before she blurts out her question.
"Why don't you hate me?"
Lizzie has been dying to ask Gigi this ever since she showed up as a tour guide that first day at Pemberley Digital, but had been unable to determine the most polite way to phrase it. But as her recent interaction with William Darcy has shown, sometimes the best way to get an honest answer was to ask a straightforward question.
Gigi put her fork down, frowning. "I would never dare hate you."
Lizzie isn't sure if this is a Darcy family saying or just a callback to the fact that Gigi has watched every single one of her videos, and continues to watch them today.
"But after everything I've said about your brother —"
"I don't care about that."
This time it's Lizzie's turn to frown. Twice in a row is too purposeful to be coincidental, right?
"But Gigi —"
"Would I have preferred you didn't have dozens of videos calling my brother names and talking about how much you hate him? Yes." Gigi spits this out quickly, and Lizzie hangs her head until she feels Gigi's hand on her shoulder. "But that's not what's important, Lizzie."
"Important? I defamed your brother over and over again, using his first and last name, and it's out there on the Internet for anyone and everyone to see —"
"You kept my secret." It was quiet, but Gigi said it, and Lizzie's sentence comes to an abrupt halt. She looks at Gigi, who turns to face her with eyes suddenly full of sadness, bitterness and regret. "You could have told everyone on the Internet about me and George, but you didn't. You could have told Caroline or Charlotte or Jane or anyone else, but you didn't. And that's what's important."
Lizzie is stunned. She wonders if another Darcy family trait is the ability to render anyone speechless, or if it's just something that works on her in particular.
"I would never," she croaks out eventually. "It wasn't my secret to tell."
Gigi shrugs. "Exactly. And that matters more to me than you describing in full detail just how uncomfortable your first few months knowing my brother were."
"But the way I talked about him —"
"It was your diary, Lizzie. He was being a pompous, arrogant ass, and you justifiably called him out on it. But he's changed, and you've changed, and I hope you can see that."
Luckily, the waiter shows up with their lunch orders, and Lizzie has something else to focus on.
William unexpectedly shows up at her door and Gigi pulls her earbuds away
"What's up?"
Distress radiates from him, and Gigi is immediately concerned. Before she can get up to ask what's wrong, however, he blurts out a question.
"Did you really mean what you said in that last video? That nobody ever needed you?" There is pain in his voice that Gigi hasn't heard for a long, long time, not since after their parents died. She is shocked to see that there are tears in his eyes.
"William…" She doesn't want to cause him more pain, but it had been the truth. "You had work. You had responsibilities. I needed you to take care of me but you didn't really —"
"Of course I needed you!" he exclaims with incredible emotion, taking Gigi aback. "I always did. You're the only family I have, Gigi. We're all each other have. We've got to stick together. Of course I need you."
It's nearly verbatim what he said after their parents' funeral, and Gigi feels tears in her eyes as well. She hauls herself off her bed and reaches out to hug her brother. They embrace silently for a moment, and Gigi feels him breathe out a long sigh.
"Well, we still have Aunt Catherine, at any rate," she says, laughing a little, and even William cracks a small smile.
"I love you so much," he says, his voice still thick. "I need you. Don't ever question that."
"I know that now," she says, sniffling. "I promise."
February
"Here's looking at you, kid," Rick says to Ilsa, and Gigi feels herself tear up. Casablanca has always been her go-to movie when she's feeling down, but the significance of this particular viewing isn't lost on her.
Nor, apparently, is it lost on her Twitter followers. "He loves her enough to put her on a plane to fly away from him," one Tweet reads. Gigi wipes away a tear that's somehow made its way onto her cheek, and presses "Favorite."
The onscreen plane flies away as she picks up the phone to dial her brother. It's late, but she knows he'll be up.
The connection clicks on, but William is silent.
"I'm sorry I called you using the Domino demo," she says, contrite. She knows it was unprofessional, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"I really wish you hadn't done that," he says. He sounds so tired.
"I know. I'm sorry. But—" Gigi pauses to wipe away a tear. "I have to do something."
"No, you don't," he says firmly. "Gigi, I — I don't want your name attached to this."
"Why not?" she asks, frustrated.
"Because it's a pretty nasty setup, and if anyone is going to be tarnished by it, I want it to be me." William says this with a finality and weariness that is both surprising and disappointing to her.
"What do you mean, a nasty setup?"
"It's a sex tape, Gigi, do you really want the gory details?" He speaks bluntly, with a sharpness he usually reserves for high-pressure boardrooms and never for her. Gigi decides she can serve up some sharpness right back.
"I just want to know how I can help, William."
"You can help by not getting involved. Honestly. It's —" William sighs, long and world-weary, and Gigi's heart aches. "It's for the best. Please trust me on this."
She nods, then realizes he can't see her. "Ok," she says, in a small voice. "William, I am sorry. I just —" she pauses. "I just can't stand the thought of him ruining someone else's life."
"Me either."
"And everything with you and Lizzie was going so well —"
"Gigi —"
"And now their whole family is drawn into a mess they don't deserve, all because of him —"
"Gigi —"
"And I just can't stand sitting around while I think I could be out there doing something!" Gigi says vehemently.
"You can help by making sure everything runs smoothly with Domino," he says, in a much calmer voice. This is the one he reserves for soothing her when she's angry or upset. "Really. I am doing all I can here, but it's a job that has to be done alone."
"Can you at least tell me where you are?"
"A hotel in between Van Nuys and Burbank. It's outside L.A. — "
"I know where Burbank is, William."
"It's where they registered their IP address. I'm trying to track down the original creator, but it's proving… difficult."
Gigi sighs, wishing she could do something, anything. "You promise you'll let me know if I can help in any way?"
"You can keep making demo videos, preferably ones that don't involve calling me," he says, sounding exhausted. "The timing of this couldn't have been worse. I wanted to be there for the launch —"
"Leave it to me," Gigi says. It may be small, but this is one thing she knows she can do. "And William? Get some sleep. Please. You'll be no help to anyone if you're a walking zombie."
"Maybe later," he says, a hard edge to his voice. "I've got work to do."
Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the reviews.