Just before she boarded the flight, Elizabeth checked her email.

Or rather the email account linked to Lambton & Co, being manned by her. It was one of the worst mistakes of her life. Alongside the influx of demands from the press, and several customers expressing concern about a site they used, now being blasted in the media - was a curious one sitting at the top. There was nothing in the title, except for an emoticon, and it was a round yellow face winking.

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy and Georgiana who were sitting opposite her in the boarding area, staring at nothing in particular. The way they sat, knees touching but their bodies angled away - so mirrored each other, it was actually kinda cute.

She gave a quick look round, at the remaining seats filling up, and glanced back at the phone again.

God, security had been a nightmare. She felt sympathy for her fellow passengers.

Finger wavering, she clicked on the emoticon, and waited for the email to load.

The first thing she noticed was a photo had been added in the thumbnail. She squinted at the sender, not recognizing the abbreviation, and read the two lines that sit primly underneath it. So, you've found and destroyed my little souvenir. Time to give you another one.

And as she scrolled down, the photo from the thumbnail was enlarged in all it's technicolour glory. A young man wearing glasses was lounging in a chair, with a repulsive smirk and pierced eyebrow raised as he held up three, faded newspapers to the camera, whilst doing a victory sign with his other hand. She stared at his features hard, wondering why George Wickham would take such an obnoxious picture of himself and send it to her.

The answer became clear, when she saw the next few lines, placed for maximum impact, right under the picture.

I had an interesting day at The National Archives today. My word, Liz! It took some digging, but it was totally worth it. Does Darcy know what type of person is parading as his secretary?

Elizabeth gasped, reading on.

I'm guessing he doesn't. Which is a shame, because I'll love to be there when he finds out. The look on his face...! In the meantime, my silence will come with a heavy price. Thing is...are you willing to pay up?

And then there was another emoticon, holding up wads of cash.

The world as Elizabeth knew, tilted on it's axis. Just by a few degrees, but when she looked up, the slant remained. It was like two big invisible hands had scooped up the room they were in, and pitched it, so everything on one side of the room, had slid down to the other. Elizabeth got up, and she too, became part of the vision. She staggered sideways, throwing her arms out. Next thing she knew, Georgiana was shaking her, and Elizabeth realised nothing had moved at all. She had just been projecting the seismic shift within herself, onto her surroundings.

Straightening up, Elizabeth pulled down her shirt, and pushed her hair back from her face.

"Sorry," she grimaced, because her momentary stumbling had drawn quite a lot of attention. "Just something caught in my shoe."

"A bit early to get drunk, isn't it?" Someone sniffed, eyeing her like they'd personally witnessed Elizabeth downing the contents of a mini-bar themselves. Shame-faced, Elizabeth apologised to everyone who would listen, and returned to her seat with her handbag besides it. Lack of time, had forced her to keep her packing minimal and meager. But that wouldn't come round to bite her in the arse until later...

Darcy too, was up on his feet and wasted no time, gripping Elizabeth by her arm and leading her back to her chair, like she was a doddering old lady. He crouched in front of her, asking if she wanted water, or some medication he didn't know she needed, (and why didn't she tell him?) and being so unnecessarily attentive about it, she had to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him to stop. It was fine. She was fine. She'd just stood up too quickly, is all. The blood rush had been too much.

He tucked a hair behind her ear as he listened, rubbing her knee with his palm.

Again, she gently pushed it away, feeling acutely uncomfortable.

The last thing Elizabeth did before they entered the cabin, was to delete the email. It was such a small act of defiance, she didn't notice a person clearing their throat behind her a few times to stand aside, before she jolted back to the present. What George Wickham thought he knew, was confined to three newspapers worth. What Elizabeth knew, was a lifetime worth of memories.

.

.

Blood...

So much blood...

Why wouldn't it come out of her hands?

Her eyes popped open, and sweat clung to her forehead. Man, she hadn't dreamed that for a while. Recent events had been getting to her. She turned her head, and the first thing she saw was the darkness outside the window, but astonishingly lights, like they were rolling down a landing strip with decreasing speed. People around them, were jumping up to their overhead cabins, cheering and clapping, glad to be on land once more, as the captain welcomed them to Singapore, and told them the local time. It was just before six AM.

Darcy who'd been awake during the first part of their interconnecting flight, had slept all the way through this one. He came round, cursing and rubbing his eyes.

"Are we here?"

"We're here."

"Bloody hell, I hope the the hired driver's waiting outside."

It took an hour to leave the airport, and to reconnect with Georgiana at the baggage conveyor belt, before they left as a group in the back of a taxi. Elizabeth propped her chin on her fist, and admired the airport's structure as they left. It was something out of science-fiction - a transparent dome-like structure interlaced with steel, that lay quite flat to the ground, and a solitary column that rose up, much like the BT Tower back home, cradling a golden oyster.

Well, it looked like a golden oyster.

And there were palm trees here!

"Changi Airport is much more aesthetically pleasing than Heathrow," Elizabeth remarked. "Do you think that's worth noting down?"

Darcy looked shell-shocked. That was the most she'd offered to the table, since jetting off nearly a day ago. Something about her was wrong. He could sense it. There was a tightness there, a glassiness to her look which he didn't appreciate. Whatever it was, she was reliving it in her mind, to the point he'd seen her nod off once in the plane, and start whimpering like a frightened girl. "Don't..." she'd said, "Don't make me do it..."

And then he had to take of his seat-belt and cradle her to stop the other passengers giving him dirty looks.

But fat chance, he'd tell her that.

"Can't we just stay on the mainland?" Georgiana whined. "I want to make the few days we stay here count, not driving around, trying to find some poxy island. There's nothing much to do there, except hike, snorkel and sunbathe - I've checked! At least on the mainland, we can have a wider choice."

"I thought the only reason you came here was to sunbathe." Darcy turned around from the passenger seat. "Didn't you pack an assortment of beachwear?"

"Yeah, and I look smoking hot in them!"

"Remember the deal, Georgiana," he said through gritted teeth. "I let you come on this trip, so you can in turn start paying attention in classes. When we head back, I want to hear you're the model student. So enjoy this while you can. It's the last bit of fun you're going to have on my watch. Not until you buckle down and begin improving your grades."

Georgiana growled.

"Whatever, brother."

"He's right, you know," Elizabeth said mildly. "Grades are important."

"What's this - an ambush?" Georgiana threw up her hands. "Did both of you plot this out beforehand? I knew it was weird when Will told me his PA asked me to come along...Because he wouldn't dream of asking before, no matter how I begged..."

"I'm glad you're here." She took hold of Georgiana's hand and gave it a small squeeze. After a second, it was tightly squeezed back.

.

.

They stopped at a seafood restaurant, and ordered squid, abalone and a rice dish. Darcy was trying to get a handle on his chopsticks, which was amusing to watch, when they noticed their driver sitting out in the car, perspiring, so they invited him in too. He started opening up to them a little, grateful for the offer, and said he was originally from Myanmar, here for the work, so he could feed his wife and kids back home.

The drive, when it resumed, was a couple of hours to the coast, where they had to run to catch the ferry.

It didn't look very promising. There was no-one else going to St. John's, except for the crew, and a gaggle of schoolchildren dressed in raincoats.

They soon out found out why.

The sea was choppy, and occasionally flung a flurry of droplets that had them shrieking and running for cover. Darcy laughed and took a couple of photo's. From the distant fog, a serene island started emerging, basic in it's principalities and covered in trees and fine sand. The ferry docked, and it was to their horror, they found out visitors could only stay, if they shared the same holiday camps.

It was nearing dusk when they were shown their living quarters. Guests were expected to be self-sufficient and prepare their own meals, or have them brought in from the mainland. It felt more like they were camping in a shack, than paradise. At least, the schoolchildren from earlier had been placed in a different chalet with their equally annoying teacher.

A small reprieve not to be sniffed at...

Which turned out to be their last.

They were using lamps to move around, and it was attracting a lot of night bloodsuckers. Georgiana disappeared to inspect the other bedroom Darcy had booked, and returned to announce it was inhabitable, due to a gaping crater in the roof. Which had thrown Elizabeth somewhat, because she'd envisioned the two of them bunking in there together...

"There's no other choice," Georgiana announced, throwing her hat on top of the king-sized bed. "We have to share this one. I'll be the sacrificial martyr and take the middle. Elizabeth, Will...you better be either side of me. Let's share the love, people!"

At the time, the idea had sounded brilliant.

They were all exhausted, so they pinched out their insect-attracting lamps and crawled onto the bed, to collapse on the covers. Elizabeth even slept soundly for a while. But that was before Georgiana started flailing her arms in panic, and one of them ended up hitting Elizabeth in the face.

A couple of seconds later, Georgiana sat up, gasping.

"Can't...breathe...too...stifled..."

Elizabeth remained with her head pressed against the covers, hoping Darcy would get up, and sort his sister out. But he appeared to be sleeping, his back turned to the pair of them, one arm curled under his head.

"Trapped... feel trapped..."

Elizabeth groaned, and half-pushed herself up.

"Hey," she might've said, "Sssh, don't get worked up. Wanna take my place? You can swing your legs out and leave anytime you want. It's great!"

If only she could remember what happened next.

.

.

Elizabeth woke, with a palm around her breast. Naked skin upon naked skin. It was the only way she could describe it. It was experimentally squeezing her, soft, and you'd have missed it. Now the question remained - was that the hallmark of a man unconscious or not? Had he deliberately set out for a boob grope, or had his hand accidentally landed up there, seeking for the softness it knew was within reach?

In the vivid dream she'd had as a prelude, Elizabeth had felt a hand lying on her hip - and she'd placed hers on top of it and guided it under her shirt, till it rested against her ribcage. There, the fingers fluttered and went still.

That had suited dream Elizabeth fine for just two minutes, before she was impatiently wriggling for more. She'd nudged the hand up - till it covered her breast, and remembered the thrilled gasp leaving her as it grasped of it's own accord. The clutch relented, and the heel of his palm cupped her fullness in it's cradle, whilst the other fingers shaped and caressed, it's thumb brushing against her nipple. And then twice more, if she thought it was an accident.

The stiff peak was being strummed into a nerve point of pain. Where it would need a good cooling lick for pleasure.

Elizabeth froze, noticing Georgiana was no longer in the bed with them.

What happened? Had she got up and left? Did she never come back? What if she was leaning over them right now? In response to Elizabeth's stiffness, the hand also froze, like it was caught up in the awareness of what it was doing. Well, this was awkward. She wanted to roll over and sucker punch him in the gut, but also had an awful feeling, the dream had been no mistake, and she'd been the one to lead him there, like Alice down the rabbit hole.

What if he wasn't awake?

Could she somehow sneak his hand out of her shirt, and pretend it never happened? Why did it happen? God, she had no shame. She had no morals -

She'd been holding her breath for too long. As Elizabeth's rib-cage expanded, the hand around her breast went lax, innocently, like it had no part to play in this. Elizabeth slowly grabbed his wrist and dragged it out from the warmth of her shirt. Then she slowly flipped over, to face the owner of said wrist.

Darcy was asleep. Or he was pretending to be asleep.

There was a small frown on his face, like he was disturbed by something. As if to prove a point, he shuddered and tucked the offending hand into his body, like he was repulsed by what it had to do. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, not noticing the moth-eaten curtains, or the garish flowery bedspread, or the damp walls but instead focusing on his face.

"Wake-up," she hissed meanly. "I know you're faking it."

"Which bit?" He drawled, still not opening his eyes.

"H-How could you!"

"You can't expect me to behave like a gentleman, when a lady rolls into my body, enough for my hand to naturally go around her hips, and then said lady, is dragging that hand up into her shirt like a sex-starved creature. What did you want me to do? Break my fingers trying to escape?"

"So the natural answer was to feel me up, was it?"

He solemnly met her gaze.

"Thank you for the privilege."

She looked angry. "I'm not like your other PA's. At what point, did I make it clear I didn't want to cross that line with you? How can you disrespect my wishes like that?"

"If you're that against me touching you," he scowled. "Why did you pull my hand into your shirt?"

"Because -"

"Because?" He raised an eyebrow.

Something in his pocket started vibrating. Not letting his eyes move from her face once, Darcy pulled out his phone, flicked a thumb to answer the call and pressed it against his ear. Momentary alarm crossed his face, before his features smoothed out, and he relaxed his head back on the pillow.

"Morning Caroline." His eyes were fixed. They stared into her own, like he couldn't look away.

"Oh, it's not morning where you are?" He chuckled.

"Yeah yeah, we got in fine-"

"What am I doing now?" Darcy's eyes swept Elizabeth from top to bottom. "Nothing much. Still in bed. Jet lag is kinda killing me."

"What I'm planning to do later? Oh, I've got a few things arranged."

"Is Charles there? Can I speak with him?"

All Elizabeth was hearing was his end of the conversation, but when the phone was clearly passed over to Charles, Darcy rolled to face the ceiling, then sat up and got out of bed, heading towards the balcony doors, which he slid behind him, to keep her from eavesdropping. This small act of privacy made tears grind in the back of her throat, but she didn't know why or where they were springing from. She'd thought bringing Georgiana along would save her from this. From getting into any compromising positions that might arise.

But yet it still happened...

Like she couldn't prevent it from happening.

Could the rule of Whatever happens in St. John's, stays in St. John's apply here?

.

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AN: Elizabeth's past plays a big part in the second half of the story. Do you have any theories? And yes - George is trying his level best to blackmail Elizabeth here. Watch his attempts increase throughout the story.

JRB - I write when inspiration strikes. Sometimes it's a stream of conscious thoughts portraying a certain level of urgency, and other times, it's a more relaxed affair. Accept both sides of me :P Because one cannot exist without the other, and I need to embrace both, to grow as a writer :)