Hey guys! I know this chapter took FOREVER! Thing is, I feel like I lost my voice, if that makes sense. The previous chapter didn't feel…right, and trying to get back on track with Lizzie's voice in this story was rough! I must have written this chapter about a thousand times, and this is the closest I got. Something still just feels off, but hopefully it'll give me a better standing point for the next chapter. Maybe?

But I'm back!


42isindeedtheanswer: I feel like it'd be a decent meme! I have to admit, it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out what your acronym was standing for…

DizzieLizzie.60: Sorry, I don't think I ever got back to your PM! This term's been insane. (I have, however, learned how to dissect brains if that's ever a skill that you need…) As long as you can see what I write, I guess it doesn't make a difference as to whether or not I can.Mrs B is the CLASSIEST! Lol.

Avanell: Thanks!

PrincessIzzy: Honestly, I'm not much for modern adaptions either. But I take ballet regularly, and one day I randomly wondered what would happen if PnP took place in my class(kind of weird, I know. I daydream a lot…) and thus TnT was born! Glad you enjoy it ;)


I know what you're thinking.

"Why Lizzie!" you sigh dramatically "I though you hated Darcy! Why on earth would you agree to dance with him? Unless… that's your way of declaring your UNDYING love for him perhaps?"

Actually… no.

I mean, I admit it- the guy's hot. But he's also a stuck up snob who thinks he's better than me and my fellow Meryton-ers. He practically drips condescension. And that is NOT what I'm looking for in a man.

"But Lizzie!" You ask, bewildered. "Why on earth would you agree to dance with him if you hate him so much?"

Excuse me, did you SEE what just happened? Not only did stupid not-sister Lydia aid in a VERY embarrassing nip-slip, but then my mother opened her mouth, and LORD- when that woman talks, literally EVERYTHING goes downhill.

I figure getting as far away from them as possible is paramount, and if dancing with stuck up Darcy is my best bet, I'm taking it.

Sue me.

It turns out that as I drug Darcy rather forcefully away from my mother and onto the dance floor, the music switched to a rather lively tango.

Now, on the one hand, I LOVE a good tango. The Argentinians really knew what they were doing. And, being a dance major I did have to take a class specializing in World Dance. So I can tango with the best of them- well, as good as they get after one semester.

On the other hand, it was DARCY. The bane of my existence, the spawn of Satan, the… man who'd just given me a way to get out of the most EMBARASSING situation of my life, admittedly, but still. One good deed does not a lifetime of malevolence erase.

Well, I suppose Darce isn't malevolent. That's more up Caroline's alley. He's just…

Annoying?

Snobbish?

Condescending?

Currently talking to me?

"Huh?" I gracelessly asked, and Darcy frowned, as if taking stock of my mental faculties.

You take stock, buddy! This brain is juuuuust fine! Just because I happen to be related to Fanny Bennet of all people…

"I was asking if you knew how to tango. You had earlier professed an aptitude for the art of East Coast Swing." Darcy repeated, positioning his hands in a tango hold.

"Oh, yeah. I did this tango unit with my friend Emma at school. She was leading, and her favourite move was the swivel, and I swear she changed our direction so many times I saw spots. And she insisted on holding a rose in her teeth the whole time. Em's a hoot." I laughed, placing my hands in his.

"Shall I fetch a rose?" Darcy asked, and I could almost FEEL the condescension DRIPPING from his voice. Because, of course, the lower classes playing around and having fun with the noble art of the tango SIMPLY wasn't done!

Gasp, shock, and horror.

"No, that's fine." I replied primly, determined to be the better woman, and we took off.

Jesus, that boy can dance.

I admit, I wanted to stick to the basic tango steps. I was not about to wrap my leg around him. He'd probably complain that my leg weighed too much and messed him up.

But LORD. Going from dancing with Collins to dancing with this man was like a dream.

A rather… quiet dream.

"Shouldn't we be talking?" I asked as he dipped me and pulled me back up.

"I find there is very little to talk about." Darce replied, and I rolled my eyes.

"Wow, Darcy, I say, look how few people are dancing. Isn't that odd? Why Ms Bennet, you reply, that is likely due to the fact that they are playing a tango in a room full of ballet dancers. True enough, I remark. They'd likely have better luck filling the dance floor if they stuck to more classical tunes. Speaking of classical music, you muse, I have to enquire as to your favourite composer. That's a tough one, I reply, but I'm quite partial to Pachelbel. I love a good cannon. And have you Seen Mrs Jenson's hat? The poor thing DEFINES atrocious-"

"It is quite atrocious, and I concede your point. There is much we could expound upon."

"Are you a robot? Seriously, who talks like that?"

"I-"

"Never mind." I cut him off.

"Your mother mentioned… George Wickham." Darcy began tentatively, pushing me into a swivel.

Great. Now he's going to rub in the fact that George is apparently extremely rude and stood me up.

JUST what I wanted. Can anything go right tonight?

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He… I feel it prudent to mention that George Wickham is not, and never will be welcome in my house."

"This isn't your house." I replied, staring him in the eye. Darcy didn't blink.

Ok, so look. George isn't on my 'People Lizzie Adores' list. To be fair, it's a fairly short list that consists of Jane and Charlotte. But the point is George didn't even bother to tell me he wasn't coming, so I spent the whole evening looking like a fool in denial.

And if there's one thing I don't like, it's looking like a fool.

But from what Darcy is saying, I get the feeling that he purposefully meddled in my affairs to ruin my date.

William Darcy cockblocked me!

How rude.

Not that I was gonna, y'know. It was a first date with a stranger from a bar after all.

But still. George could have been the One! We could have had charming little babies together and he'd be a supportive husband and attend all my ballet recitals, and…

And I spend WAAAAAAY too much time with my mother. Ignore that last bit.

"True enough. Thank you for the dance." Darcy muttered, then bowed-bowed-and left.

Jane and I left Netherfield not long after. She was floating on a cloud, happy as a claim. She'd had a great night with Charlie, and it seemed like they were going as strong as ever.

I wish I could feel the same.

Honestly? It hurt that George stood me up. And the fact that Darcy had a hand in it was even worse.

I swear, if I never see either man again, it would be too soon.