His fingers were cramping over the keyboard, when someone rapped on the front door. "Georgie," he called, knowing it would annoy her. "Get that for me, will you?"

Somewhere deep within the house, came an impetuous "NO!"

The person rapped harder.

Darcy, ignoring whoever was at the door, bit his lower lip and rubbed his chin, staring at the laptop screen braced against a pile of books on the kitchen table. Elizabeth hadn't bothered answering his calls since this morning, so he'd been warning her in his voice mails ever since. He had to go around next morning to see what was up. Guilty conscience, perhaps?

"URGH!" He heard Georgiana yell, in typical teenage fashion, before she stomped down the stairs and marched across the hall. She was probably going to trip over the suitcase he'd left by the radiator earlier, as he'd heard it falling over half an hour ago, but hadn't bothered straightening it up to it's former position. True to form, he heard the two of them meet.

"Georgiana, suitcase. Suitcase, Georgiana," he muttered to himself, with dry sarcasm as Georgiana screamed obscenities, and hopped around, clutching her big toe.

"ARGH! YOU COULD'VE WARNED ME!"

"Yeah, to get your vision tested." He didn't dare say it any louder, lest she bust his chops.

Scraping back his chair, he felt the muscles around his shoulders clench uncomfortably like they were about to spasm, so he stretched his arms out, high above his head and gave such a loud yawn, that an approaching Caroline looked extremely predatory as she saw a glimpse of his taut stomach, begging to be touched.

God - it was so firm.

Darcy caught her looking, and lowered his arms, smiling at her unwittingly. Instantly Caroline narrowed her eyes, irritated at being caught out, but she wanted the charade to continue. She dropped everything and went around the table, to clutch his biceps and land her European style of kissing on both cheeks. She had to stand on tiptoe, making her feel breathless and paralysed with need.

He made her look up at him, which was no easy feat.

They were perfect together.

Why couldn't he realise it?

She stepped back, and Darcy spotted the compact suitcase she'd wheeled in behind her. It stood forlornly at the entrance of the kitchen, like it was lost.

"You came at such short notice." He looked back at her. "I didn't know if you would."

"I'm flattered you thought of me first."

"Well, Georgiana isn't going to be around, she made that clear. The little mare dared to threaten me with going to Europe, but she finally settled with our aunt's instead. I think it's a little rebellion because I've decided against her coming with me."

"Ah, yes." A crook appeared at the edge of her smile. "One of the perks of your job. Travelling the world. Where are you going this time?" Who are you taking with you? It's certainly not Charles - he would've told me!

"St. John's."

"The Caribbean?" A stab of jealousy plunged into her stomach.

"No," he laughed. "Singapore, of course!"

Caroline stewed over that for a while, still doing a mental inventory of all the bikini's she could've brought on the trip, if she'd been invited but never was. He was such a stickler for rules, only travelling with work colleagues, and sometimes occasionally - Georgiana. Wasn't there some cardinal rule, that hot, single men who traveled should be taking their girlfriends along, and engaging in fevered, steamy romps on sandy beaches somewhere?

She chased away that fantasy with a scowl. Then remembering she was still playing a part, forced a smile on her face that made her look ill.

"Of course," she faintly echoed.

"So," he said briskly, moving around the kitchen, pointing things out. "You will have the spare set of keys to let the housekeeper in, she only comes in twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays. You don't have to worry about watering the plants, but if they start to look a little wilted, some wouldn't hurt. We'll pay you for the house-sitting, of course, because we're leaving several items behind, both of monetary and sentimental value, and it wouldn't do, if we were burgled in the week we were out. Here's my number for any emergencies -" He pointed at a post-it taped to the fridge. "Call me if anything happens, even if it's small-"

"Are you going alone?" Caroline interrupted, hating herself but gritting her teeth at the same time. She wanted to know if her burning suspicion was correct.

Darcy stopped short, blinking.

"Ah...no."

"You're going with...?" She prompted.

"Well," he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "My PA, obviously."

Caroline's insides started to wither and turn black and ugly. It was all she could do, not to curl her mouth into a sneer and ask, "Her?" Her disdain couldn't be masked. The initial dislike she had over Elizabeth, had now turned into a seething hatred. That bitch was trying to steal Will away from her! Caroline's fists clenched by her sides. What she wouldn't give, to rip the hair out of Elizabeth Bennet's head. First acting coy and refusing Darcy's advances like she was some virtuous saint, now using her vixen-like seductive powers to get him to agree with travelling together. God, were they going to share the same bed?

But she regained that smile once more, not wanting to show how venomous she was.

.

.

The next day, Elizabeth gingerly turned on her phone, cursing herself for throwing it behind the cistern, the day previous. There was now a spider length crack running along the edge of the screen, but mercifully it still worked. She hadn't even put it back down besides her oatmeal, before it started pinging her with all the messages she missed. Charlotte shot her an accusing look from the stove, frying some eggs sunny side up.

"Christ," Elizabeth said, scrolling through some of them. "He wants me to...WHAT?"

Then a second later, almost in panic, "No, no, no...this can't be happening."

"What's going on?" Charlotte asked nosily. "Anything to do with that stud you were sneaking in a couple of days ago?"

"Stud?" Elizabeth looked queasy. "Who says stud anymore? That expression is so..."

"Dated. Like me." Charlotte stuck out her tongue. "Don't you think I know that, already? Can't you see the white hair I'm sprouting?"

"He didn't..." Elizabeth suddenly began. "Turn up yesterday, right? Whilst I was out? Or he didn't ring our landline?"

"No..." Charlotte said slowly. "Did you give him our landline?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Well then... Oh, but I nearly forgot!" Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her chair when Charlotte exclaimed that. "We did receive that freaky caller again. You know, the one that rings up once a month, breathes heavily down the line not saying anything, and then hangs up?" Charlotte shook her head. "But that couldn't have been the stud you're talking about. You've only known this guy for a short while right? And we've been receiving those calls for months. Unless..." she broke off dramatically. "He's been stalking you all this time and now he's integrating into your life just to kill you!"

"Oh, shut up!" But her heart raced all the same.

Not because she genuinely believed Darcy was some sick, sadistic stalker-fuck but because Charlotte could never, ever guess who those calls were really from. And what they really meant.

Charlotte grumbled.

"So why the long face?"

"It's just that..." her fingers trembled. "He's closed the company. For a week. Because the newspapers got hold of a story..." Her eyes skimmed the next few lines, face paling. "And he thinks someone from inside has been talking. God, who would do that...? And Charles. He's staying behind to question everyone. But not Darcy. No, he's flying out to some island, and he wants me to go with him! Probably after interrogating me first, like Charles's doing with the others." She buried her face in her arms, like a distressed schoolchild having realised she'd just left her homework behind, and it was due for the strictest teacher yet. "How could I have missed all this?"

"There there," Charlotte said, from behind her frying pan, looking sympathetic.

"I have to say no," Elizabeth's voice was muffled. "It's too much of a short notice, especially since he wants to go tonight. Why is he asking this of me? What does he want from me?"

Charlotte scratched her chin.

It appeared the answers were beyond them.

They were disturbed from their respective stupors however, when someone pressed the doorbell. It was short. It was curt. And it promised to be interesting. Elizabeth and Charlotte exchanged high eyebrows, but it was the latter who was shooed to the hallway. She took a deep breath, before sliding back the lock and answering.

For a long while, neither of them spoke.

"Before we start," he asked softly. "I need you to do one thing. Look me in the eye."

She looked him in the eyes.

"Have you ever met somebody by the name of George Wickham?" His eyes flicked from one eye to the other.

"G-George Wickham?"

"Answer me," he demanded.

"O-once or t-twice."

He rocked back on his heels and one of his nostrils flared. Elizabeth noticed he was clenching the same fist, which he'd curled when he wanted to punch Jonah. What did that mean? That he was preparing to release a blinder? She edged backwards, trying to appear not scared.

"Thank you," he muttered dangerously. "Thank you for telling me. Now can you invite me in? I'd much rather deal with this inside, then airing it out in the hallway."

"No," she blurted out, clearing her throat. "No, you can stay out there, thanks."

"Why?" One of his lips quirked. "Are you scared?"

"It wasn't me if that's what you're thinking!" Elizabeth winced at how shrill her voice sounded. But she was fighting for her life. She could already sense the loathing in his expression. Okay, he was hiding it expertly, but he wasn't smiling at her or talking to her like he usually did. In fact, he looked quite skeptical.

"What am I thinking?" He released his fist.

"You think it's me," she said breathlessly. "That I'm the one who's talked. To this George character. But it was nothing like that. He just bumped into me, probably for a story and I admit the first time I was pretty friendly, but Jonah hadn't done anything then, so I possibly couldn't have told - and the second time, I just accused him of being a vulture waiting to see our company go bust and he ran after me to give my bag back. That's it."

"That's it?" he repeated.

"That's it," she ended forcefully.

"So, it possibly couldn't have been you," he continued tonelessly.

"Why would I have any reason to lie?" She was still staring into his eyes, trying to read him. So frustrated was she in setting things straight, a flush had worked up her neck and she looked a little teary. Darcy wanted to believe her. She was a good little actress, if she was lying. And he was just a small fish caught in her reel.

But his heart fought him every step of the way.

It wanted to believe in her.

It wanted to believe so bad, he actually blurted out, "I believe you."

Her lips moved wordlessly.

"Y-You do?"

"I've dealt with him before. I know exactly what kind of methods he'd resort to." He looked grim. "You mentioned him retrieving a bag. Ample opportunity to slip something within, don't you think? Can you bring it out here? I want to see if my theory's correct."

She jerked her head in a half-nod, and went to retrieve her bag. She hadn't touched it since yesterday, and suddenly felt embarrassed at all the things that could be rolling around there. Didn't she have a half open pack of sanitary pads? And a clean set of underwear "just in case?" Refusing to meet his eyes, and sensing it was important she didn't tamper with the contents, she handed the bag over and watched with surly indignation, as he emptied it over the kitchen table. Because he'd followed her of course, and Charlotte had prevented him from shadowing her to her bedroom, by calling him aside.

Both women huddled either side of Darcy, as he picked up her underwear with a finger and a thumb.

"Nice," he commented.

Elizabeth snatched it out of his hands, and hid it behind her back.

"Wait, that wasn't there before." She'd just noticed a black object, shaped no bigger than a circular earphone, with a red light flashing intermittently. It had a clip on it's back. Black thunder crossed Darcy's face, as he picked it up and dropped it to the floor to grind it underfoot.

Then he pushed back his head and let out an almighty roar.

Elizabeth squeaked.

The noise caused him to slowly turn around and fix her with a fierce stare. "Never speak to him again, and in turn -" He strode forwards to grasp both of her hands, earnestly pulling her towards him. "I'll never ever fucking doubt you in the future. You have my word."

"Well, I don't want it!" She gasped, dangerously close to melting against him.

She didn't want to spend a week alone with him. In an exotic location.

Because it might make her lose her mind and cause her to start falling. Hard.

And that was a dangerous, dangerous path to entertain.

"This trip. I don't want to come unless you bring someone else." The words tumbled out of her, knowing she couldn't refuse work-related duty, but wanting to keep her head in the process. If someone else came along, she could keep herself in check, and not be whisked away by the allure of something more. Because at that moment...honestly...she kinda wanted it to happen.

What it was...she didn't quite know.

"That's ridiculous," he dismissed. "I've booked two rooms already. Where are we going to fit in this hypothetical third person?"

"You figure it out."

"I should just leave your arse back in England."

"Is it really necessary for me to come?"

"Well, you're the one who's actually going to be doing the work."

"Charming."

"You know..." He waved a hand. "Taking notes, jotting down particulars...little notes in the margin about places to eat, and handy tips to cope with no air-conditioning..."

"I'm sold," she said sarcastically. "But can you honestly tell me there's no-one else who desperately wants to take my place?"

"Well,there's Georgiana...she harangued me all night. Said she'd go to Europe with six guys if I didn't play ball."

"Brilliant! Take her!"

"I'll take the both of you," he snapped. "Happy?"

.

.

Not happy.

Oh, Georgiana was all right. The moodiness she'd displayed all night and this morning was gone, to be replaced by an individual bursting with cheer. She'd come appropriately dressed, wearing a large floppy sun-hat, a skimpy summer dress with straps threatening to fall down her shoulders, and wedges that showed off her recently painted toenails. Booking another ticket, on a nearly full flight had been murder, but he'd forked out an extra grand, to nab her an empty seat in business class.

He and Elizabeth had to make do with the rest of the cattle.

Eyeing her grumpily, wondering why he bothered to treat her like a princess to his folly, he couldn't help looking at the other companion. Elizabeth was already fanning herself with the tickets, staring up at the departure board for their flight to Changi at 1911 hours. It would be a long flight, with a layover at Dubai.

This trip was purely business.

But why did it still bring a flutter inside his stomach?

.

.

A/N: I've been reading too much these days. Sometimes I forget to write :P It would help if you can remind me...at times. If I don't update for over a week, just give me a little prod. I'll respond in kind. I think Tanya has the idea!