Hey dude guys! Soo… I completely forgot to warn you, but for three to four months out of the year, I live in the country- like, where there are more horses and goats kind of country- and we kind of don't have wifi out there… So that's a thing. Super sorry about that!

Anyways, I'm back in civilization, so hopefullyI'll get better at updating…

.60: When I answer you, does your full name ever show up? Because whenever I look at it on my mobile, it just shows your name as .60, even though I type the whole thing. It's weird. And as crazy as Lizzy's mom is, it's kind of a 'only I get to make fun of my family' kind of situation. I wish she wouldn't get drawn in by George, but unfortunately a pretty face and charming demeanour go a long way…

EvelynRo: Thanks! I literally always call Darcy Darcinator in my head, so it's extremely difficult to remember to call him Darcy for the majority of the story :)

Avanell: Dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUN!

42inIndeedTheAnswer: Hey mate, thanks for reminding me. I kind of got caught up in moving to my new flat and writing fell by the wayside. But now I'm here, in the land of the wifi!

So, here goes… Netherfield Ball part One. Prepare yourself or the ridiculousness.


I admit it. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting ready for Charlie's cocktail party.

Jane was no help.

You're surprised. You imagined the two of us getting me all dolled up together, giggling about the cute guy I'm going with.

Which… is completely accurate.

Jane was no help, you see, because every time we finished making me up, she decided I could be even prettier, and made us start all over again.

"I'm so excited for you Lizzie! George is the first nice guy that's asked you out since-"

"Ever?" I interrupted. "Collins doesn't count. Did you know that Charlotte's teaching him ballet?"

"Yes, Lizzie." Jane replied patiently. "And everyone except you thinks it's a wonderful opportunity for her."

"I just think she's selling herself short. She's a good dancer." I shrugged, and Jane smiled sadly.

"We're all good dancers. But it's an issue of supply and demand. More people want to be famous ballerinas then there are roles available. It's a logical decision."

"She's compromising her dreams!" I protested, and Jane shook her head.

"No, Lizzie, she's compromising your dreams."

Woah.

Jane just got deep.

"I think you should go with a low bun." Jane finally declared, bunching my hair in her hand. "It says 'I'm professional, but also flirty and gorgeous.'"

"It does, huh?" I asked with a laugh. "I didn't know my hair could talk."

"Don't you know by now, Lizzie? I speak hair." Jane giggled.

After spending the equivalent of five hundred and seventy million hours debating, Jane decided on my dress and makeup too. I finally ended up in a deep purple strapless cocktail dress and black heels.

Jane, being the angel she is, dressed in white.

"Oh, I'm so excited! I just want you to be as happy as I am!"

"I am happy, Jane." I sighed. "And as much as I like George, I don't need him to be happy."

"I know you don't need him, but I just want him to add to your happiness, just like Charlie has added to mine."

"I know Jane. But I just met him. You never know what'll happen. Are you ready?"

"Um, yeah, but Lizzie? I kinda need to tell you something." Jane began nervously, and I whipped around, my attention piqued.

"Oh my god, you're pregnant!"

"What-Lizzie-NO!" Jane spluttered, and I relaxed slightly.

"Then what?"

"Well, um I accidently mentioned to…"

"YOU TOLD MUM?" I shrieked, and Jane winced. I gasped as another revelation hit me. "AND SHE"S COMING?"

"She wanted to meet George." Jane replied, and I sighed.

"Jane, you realize this destroys all of my chances with him." I groaned. Bye Bye Georgie-Porgie.

"It'll be ok! I'll distract her with Charlie."

"I should hope so." I frowned, grabbing the keys from Jane. As if I'd let her drive. We'd get there next week!

"George is meeting us there, right?" Jane asked.

"Yeah." I nodded, tossing my phone at her. "See if he texted me, would you?"

"Nothing." Jane said with a slight frown. "You know Lizzy, I'd kind of hoped he would have come and picked you up."

"But what about you? You'd have to drive there in our car since Charlie's hosting. We're trying to avoid killing the planet, dearest sister." I laughed.

"But it'd be more romantic." Jane sighed sweetly. I snorted.

"You're right, of course. Who cares about burning limited supplies of fossil fuels and killing the only planet we have when there's romance?"

She's right, though. It would totally be romantic.

I pulled up to the valet station and snorted. Our little blue… monster looked more like it belonged in a junkyard than with a valet. Jane stepped out of the passenger side gracefully, whereas I sort of tripped and covered it up with a hop skip thing and leaned on the hood of the car.

NAILED IT!

"Don't worry if you scratch it." I laughed, tossing the valet the keys. "I guarantee we won't notice."

The little monster was a reminiscent of the days when dad thought that he knew anything about cars. It's kind of a mutt, as he took pieces and parts from any junkyard he could find. It's probably not street legal….

My bad.

"I don't see George anywhere." Jane declared softly, and I frowned slightly.

"He's probably just running late." I shrugged. We stepped inside Charlie's mansion, and I managed to contain my awe at the massive expanse of it.

Are you proud of me?

Jane and I entered gracefully, our heels clicking, and Lady B cornered us.

"Jane, Elizabeth, you both look delightful!" she cooed, exchanging air kisses with the two of us. "As I'm sure you both know Charles is hosting this darling soiree in order for us to enchant prospective patrons, so I do expect you both to be on your best behavior, not that it would be a problem for you, Jane."

Who, wait, WHAT? I have good behavior!

It's like she doesn't even remember the one time I APOLOGIZED for smacking Darcy in the head.

Apologies are polite.

"Jane, there you are!" Charlie cooed, cozying up to us. "Evening Lizzy. Jane, you look marvelous! You too, of course, Lizzy. Purple really does suit you. Brings out your hair."

"Evening Charlie." I replied, and Jane let out a demure giggle. "For God's sakes, Jane, you're DATING the man! You're allowed to talk to him, you know."

"It's like you don't even know the meaning of the word polite!" Lady B huffed, throwing her hands up and leaving.

Well, fine. I didn't want to talk to you anyway.

"Lizzy, didn't you have a date for the evening?" Charlie asked, concerned. "You could have told me that he cancelled, I would have made one of my friends come with you."

"George didn't cancel." I shook my head. "He'll be here. But thank you Charlie."

"And there's always Billy Collins." Jane giggled slightly. "I'm sure he would love to dance with you."

Thanks Jane. You're SOOOOO hilarious.

"Jane, darling, you know I love you but I must politely ask that you never open your mouth again." I huffed, and Charlie let out a snort.

"Too late. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Good luck Lizzy! Call us if you need help!" Charlie laughed, whisking Jane away. I turned to see what he was laughing at and found Collins almost charging me.

I hate Charlie. Today is the day he dies.

"Elizabeth! You look simply spectacular! You never called me to tell me what color your dress was, so I chose a black tie as I assumed it would match whatever you wore and I was right! Come, come, we must dance!" Collins chirped, grabbing my hand.

Ugh. I need Purell.

"Um, Billy, we're here to mingle with other people, you know?" I protested. "Charlie invited all of these investors to meet the Longbourn Ballet. We should be talking to them, not each other."

"Ah ah!" Collins tweaked my nose, and I frowned. Who even DOES that? "What better way to get the attention of these marvelous investors than by showcasing our dancing skills? To the dance floor!"

I SERIOUSLY hate Charlie.

I saw him and Jane snickering as Collins lead me through what had to be the worst foxtrot ever. Collins has two left feet, and I spent the entire dance plotting revenge on Charlie, so when Collins sent me reeling into a hard body, I wasn't too terribly surprised. That is, until I looked up and saw… Darcy.

Whoop de freaking doo.

Is this guy ever NOT around to witness my worst moments?

"Do you know how to ballroom dance?" Darcy asked curiously, but I'm sure he meant it in a condescending sort of way. Little bugger.

"I'll have you know I'm very well versed in East Coast Swing." I replied proudly, shoving Collins' hands off me.

"Would that be considered ballroom?" Darcy wondered, and I shrugged.

"I think it was in the bandstand era. But I've also studied the Tango, Foxtrot, Waltz, Cha-cha, Salsa, and Rumba. I am going to university for dance, you know."

"I wonder then, is it your teacher, or your partner that leaves much to be desired?" Darcy mused, and both Collins and I flushed.

The nerve!

"If you're quite done being condescending, Collins and I have a Foxtrot to finish." I whirled around, grabbing Collins' hand.

"No, I'm not." Darcy interrupted, and I looked back at him, eyebrow raised. "Not the, um condescending part. But I find that our conversation regarding ballroom dance intrigues me and I should like to continue it."

"Well, Darce, a great man once said 'You can't always get what you want'" I laughed. Darcy frowned as if trying to place the quote. I decided to help him out.

"But if you try sometimes…."

Nothing.

"You just might find?" I attempted again.

Nada. God Dammit Darcy!

"YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED!" I hollered, exasperated, and Darcy blinked, startled.

"I find that I do not understand. Why are you yelling sentence fragments at me?"

"Oh, give it up Liz." Charlie laughed, approaching Darcy and slinging his arm over Darcinator's shoulder. "Darcy just doesn't understand good music."

"That was a song?" Darcy asked with a frown. "I thought it was just yelling."

"It is a song. Lizzy was just yelling it at you." Jane explained. "She gets touchy about her Rolling Stones."

"You, Darce-face, need a musication." I declared solemnly. "I bet even Collins here knows who the Stones are."

"Omg, Lizzy, why are you yelling Rolling Stones lyrics. I thought we were supposed to be fancy or whatever." Lydia giggled, coming up to us.

"See? Even LYDIA knows who the Stones are!" I threw my hands up. "And Lydia wouldn't know good music if it bit her on her barely covered rear end. You call that fancy Lyd? You look like you're going clubbing, not to a cocktail party!"

"You said cock!" Lydia snorted. "And BT dubs, my dress is way cute. Yours makes you look like a prudish loser! How are you ever gonna get laid if you don't let the girls hang out, huh?" She grabbed at my dress trying to pull the neckline down. Tipsy Lydia apparently doesn't know her own strength, cause…

Well…

Let's just say there was WAAAY more boobage than anticipated.

"LYDIA!" I shrieked, turning away from her to try and fix my dress. Of course, in turning away from her, I turned directly towards Darcy who was rather openly ogling my boobs in shock.

Shit!

"DON'T LOOK!" I screeched, slapping him in the face. He politely kept his head turned to the side while I pulled my dress back up.

And this is why you NEVER invite Lydia to a party.

"Lizzie, dear, are you flashing your breasts at William Darcy?" Mother asked, wandering our way, and I almost burst into tears. Why me? Really, I'd LOVE to know! "Because that is a most unladylike way to attract a man. I don't know what's gotten into girls these days. You aren't going to get a husband through sex! Why would he buy the cow if he can have the milk for free? And I thought you were coming here with that George man! Did he stand you up? Of course, I can't blame him if that's what you consider flirting-"

"Kill me!" I groaned, banging my head on the nearest solid surface-which happened to be Darcy's torso. "Kill me now!"

"Would you like to dance?" Darcy asked, and despite the fact that it was DARCY (gross!) it would get me away from Lydia and Collins and my mother, so therefore it was the best idea I've ever heard.

"I would LOVE to!" I declared loudly, taking his hand and leading him away from the Most Embarrassing Mob Ever.