I apologise for the weird email addresses. They will prove useful at some points, I assure you. If anyone knows how to weasel around the system and put them in, I'd appreciate knowing. Thanks.

The meaning of propriety

"Hello? Is anyone there? Please pick up if you are. Lyddie? Kit? Really? None of you are there? Well I guess if you're all actually out, you know, preparing for tomorrow and will therefore come in later exhausted and curse at me, then maybe I shouldn't sound so surprised. I was calling to confirm stuff, but I guess if someone can call me back when you get this? OK, well while I have you as a captive audience, I wanted to say thank you so much for this. I know it was last minute, I know that it's a massive upheaval, but really, he might be the President one day! Think of that. And he's so nice. The whole reason I got asked about the farm was because I talked to him about a week ago. I was missing you guys and he was so nice…Anyway, he remembered our conversation. Actually remembered me! I was so surprised, someone that important. So thanks guys. I think this might make a massive difference at work. Like, two weeks ago I was at a desk, calling people all day, and now they've moved me up into his offices with the really important people and, you know, I might actually make a difference. It's what I came here for. I was just starting to think that it would never happen. So. Call me, please, when you can. I need to confirm a whole bunch of things. I love you guys."

Fr: Caroline Formisano at charlesbingley

To: Will Darcy at charlesbingley

Subject: Seriously?

We're going out to a farm in Tennessee? Seriously? Me. In my shoes. With my hair. At a farm. Or is it a ranch? I can't really remember what you said. I think I blacked out at the suggestion of walking between faeces and idiot hicks. Whose idea was is to have this stupid thing at a farm? I mean, from a communications stand point, it's a dream. Charles, standing with one hand on a horse, sleeves rolled up, looking young and brawny, yet with a heart for the rural areas and blah blah blah. From a personal hatred-of-the-countryside point though, I'll never forgive you. Or Charles. Or that girl in the office who appears to suddenly be organising it. She never stops smiling. It gets irritating after a while. Anyway, I thought you should know. I may look happy on the outside while we're trolling over hills and inspecting live stock, but I'm telling you now, this is not OK, and you will pay. Probably in alcohol. Coming out tonight?

C

wd: Are you there? Do you even know how to work this damn system?

cb: Will? Or is it Santa? I can't tell. You're both so jolly.

wd: Funny. If you're writing a speech, I'm going to come in there and find something incriminating. I'm not above downloading porn onto your computer.

cb: Dude. I know I chose well when I chose you for my chief of staff.

wd: If the public knew that you're starting messages with 'dude' they may be a little concerned.

cb: Not as concerned as the residents of California should have been when Schwarzenegger started twittering policy decisions in text speak.

wd: This world makes me sad.

cb: You need a hug?

wd: No. Please God no. But talking of inappropriate sexual harassment (as apposed to the appropriate kind of course- seriously. Maybe we should jack it all in now) Caroline has been emailing me, and while she's brilliant politically, I'd rather stick my graduation-present-fountain-pen in my eye than go out drinking again with her.

cb: Really? But you make such a lovely couple.

wd: If it weren't for the fact that then I'd be out of a job, I'd wish death upon you. Slow, and painful.

cb: You'll change your tune when I'm the commander in chief.

wd: And yet you weren't amused when George changed your ring tone to Hail to the Chief.

cb: Your sister is cruel and unusual in many ways. I can't imagine who that reminds me of. Oh- wait.

wd: So. What are you doing if not writing speeches?

cb: Hm. Is this the only reason you messaged me? To check on what I was doing? You could have just shifted your lazy ass out of your chair, hustled across the hall, and entered my office. Just a thought.

wd: I probably could have just yelled.

cb: Oh. Hang on.

wd: Yes, I can hear you. We may start losing valuable staff if they catch on that you're a moron.

cb: But one with power. I think I may change my ring tone back to HTTC.

wd: I think I may need to garner more respect for you, from others and myself. Could you do something brilliant and political?

cb: Right now?

wd: Well...

cb: Seriously Will. Don't you have anything better to be doing than messaging me? Not that it's not delightful, but, you know, slightly concerning that we have nothing better to do.

wd: Oh, I'm in the middle of a meeting right now.

cb: You're WHAT?

wd: It's fine. I told them that it was our eccentric yet brilliant speech writer yelling just now.

cb: Well aren't I grateful. Oh, got to go. Jane Bennet's here to talk about the event. Good Lord she's beautiful.

wd: She smiles too much. I can see her from here. It's blinding me.

cb: Lighten up Grandpa. Just because you've forgotten how to smile.

wd: Is this the only reason you were keen on using her family's farm? Because you want to get with the hot office worker? Charles?

cb: Oh, no. Wilkies farm BURNING DOWN had nothing to do with changing the venue. Now who's the moron? It seemed like a good idea, her family is Democrat sympathetic at the very least. She can organise it working with them. It seemed, I don't know, PERFECT. Even you said it was perfect.

wd: Not if you're going to get distracted by smiley-mc-teeth-bright-hottison over there.

cb: OK coach. I'll focus. Now leave me alone. I need to talk hay bales.

wd: Charles? You're not serious are you?

wd: Charles?

wd: Damn.

Fr: Jane Bennet at CharlesBingley

To: KitBee; ebethbnet; Francesca; sexylyddieohlala; Mary; Rex.

Subject: Well one of you is bound to get this!

Sorry to send this to you all. I just figured since you've all been so busy that this would be the surest way of catching you, and I didn't want to take any chances.

First, thank you. Thank you again. This is such a great experience. I don't think I can ever say thank you enough. So thank you, a million times.

Second, pretty much everything is now under control. I just checked the last details with Mr Bingley himself, and he's thrilled with it all. The music, those decorations that Mary has planned, the whole set up. And he's so thrilled to be able to stay over, even if it is just him and his chief of staff. They want a chance to chat to people here at the event, to let them know what he's about, but also to chat to you guys, particularly you Daddy. He wants to know what the rural community really need from him. Which is why they're staying the night, so we can have like a breakfast meeting- like real political people. Which I know they are, but this is all so surreal. I'm so thrilled that we could help, as he's such a great man, and I really think he'd be a wonderful President. I hope all our neighbours agree!

OK. Well I'll be there on Friday, early with a group of people- security and lawyers and journalists and the like, preparing for Bingley's arrival, and to take pictures of the land and the animals. So it's not just a good thing to do. It'll be good for the farm. Really. They're arriving on Saturday, aiming for midday, so probably more like three (!) and then the event can get going. Then Bingley and Darcy will stay over, as will I, and we can talk over breakfast, and probably take a few more photos, before they go to church in town (I know- it seems like publicity, but he's a good man. Really Daddy) and then off to continue the campaign. I'm afraid I'm going then too, but we're leaving a team behind to clear up and make sure that you don't have to do anything.

Thank you so much. I love you all.

Janey xxx

"Oh she's in love!"

"Mom…"

"With a Presidential candidate! I always said so. With that hair and those teeth, she should be on the front covers."

"Mom…"

"See this Lizzie, this is why he shouldn't be sleeping in the bunkhouse. We need to keep him happy. He may one day be your brother-in-law!"

"Mom, I think that you're getting a bit ahead of yourself."

Francesca wheels around from where she has been making breakfast, Jane's email printed out and pinned up above the stove. "Ahead of myself?" she asks, incredulous. "Have you read her email? She's so clearly smitten with him. And have you seen his photo? Such a handsome man." Her face becomes dreamy. "They'd be such a beautiful couple…"

"Oh, Mom come on. She may like him, though it's probably just that she's just impressed and thankful for seemingly nice people around her, but you don't even know about him! He may have a girlfriend, a fiancée even!"

"Not as far as the papers say," she says, spooning out pancake batter onto the griddle. "They say that he is quite unattached."

Lizzie rolls her eyes, and continues to lay the table one handed, a cup of coffee in the other. "Well I'm just saying," she says. "Don't get your hopes up. It very well may come to nothing."

Francesca turns round, looking scornful. "Nothing? Not if I have anything to do with it!"

"Mom?"

She smiles, clearly finished with the conversation. "Now go and tell the others that breakfast is ready Lizzie dear." She clatters warm plates out of the stove and then turns to begin serving up. Lizzie watches, frozen, horrified for a second, before sighing, and walking off to the porch to ring the dinner bell.

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers, and to LJ.