I'd love more review love-

shout out to loveinthebattlefield who has loyally reviewed.

Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.

Again, if anyone is interested in helping beta, PM me.

Final tweaking is my own.

We finally meet the rest of the Bennet clan. I changed Lydia to Lydon, because I don't think having a son or not is the issue now that it was in regency time and you will see why I made this decision soon enough.

Lydon- the youngest Bennet, Rodeo King and all around pain in the $$ to his sisters

Wickham

Kitty Bennet- Bennet sister, budding Fair Queen

Mary Bennet- Bennet sister, botanist and budding farmer extrordanaire

Francesca Bennet- ODG's mother

Edward Bennet- ODG's dad

Jane Bennet- ODG2

Chapter 8: Ingratiation

After a long day, Lizzy dragged herself home to find an impromptu dinner gathering. The family was actually sitting at the table and it wasn't a holiday. All together. Eating and talking. Then Lizzy saw him. He had a part in the oddity of a Bennet family dinner. There was Wickham, sitting between Lydon and mom, charming mom and laughing uproariously at Lydon's stupid jokes. Had she flown into the twilight zone instead of El Paso International Airport?

And the food smelled unearthly. Her stomach had finally settled and she was ravenous. Lizzy grabbed a plate, helping herself to the amazing dinner- it was as if someone catered the old stand bys of their table: the family recipe of eggplant casserole was upgraded with green chiles and had a mixture of cheeses. Dad NEVER allowed their grassfed Angus Beefalo to be covered in any sauce. This time someone had tampered with this roast, because the gravy was thick and smoky, unlike mom had ever made- with a side of horseradish- didn't dad hate horseradish? He was shoveling it down. The asparagus, likely frozen from what they picked off the ditches this spring, was cooked to perfection. Even Grandmama's sacred cloverleaf roll recipe had been made into whole grain delights- healthier- still delicious.

Only then did Lizzy notice how, upon seeing her, excepting Dad and Jane, the family was rather nonplussed by her presence after three months, but, whatever. Lizzy reminded herself that she'd not exactly burst in with joyous greetings of her own- too intent upon eating was she.

"Wickham! I should have recognized your signature embellishments. I take it you're to thank for this gorgeous food?"

"And to thank for bringing your treasures home, safe and sound- until Lydon got hold of things! Come to think of it, better check your belongings, Lizzy!" At that, he and Lydon creeped her out.

Her brother was quick to jump in, "Seriously Lizzy, what would I want with your stupid things? They're fine- geez! I was real careful with them when I got the out of the UHaul. Wickham came with me even to help me load them in and out. That's how we got to be friends. Anyway, go and check on them now, if you can stop gorging yourself! Mom's right, maybe you should watch your figure a little more closely."

"Lydon! What a thing to say! I'll have you know many of Lambton's visitors quite admired Lizzy's figure and she refused them all, the tease!" Here was Wickham, backhandedly coming to Lizzy's defense, seeming gallant when he and she both knew he'd been one of those admirers she'd rebuffed.

Mother ate up the gossip and chastised Lizzy for not taking the chance to get to know someone famous. Why else was she in Theatre after all? Lydon was actually influenced by Wickham, as, for the first time since she didn't know when, Lydon apologized.

Dad finally spoke up. "Well, well, Lizzy, have you any other new friends to introduce? We've already got one to improve Lydon's behavior and cook; perhaps another will do our laundry and improve your mother?"

After this, the family seemed to have made a mutual agreement to stop wasting the food on discussion. Their discourse didn't resume in earnest until Lydon cleared the table, shocking everyone present, while Wickham set out his coup de grace- an improvement on the family recipe of peach cobbler. As everyone tucked in to the brandy laced delight, Dad remarked, "you kids are free to bring home any friends if they are like ol' Wickham here."

Wickham piped in again: "Speaking of friends, I hear an ex friend of mine is at the Theatre, here- William Darcy. You must remember my stories about my old friends who abandoned me! Have you met him, Lizzy and Jane? I'm sure the experience would be… unforgettable. Try as you might to forget. The man is an utter, fixture, I'm afraid. From an artistic family, and he's the most boring of the lot, which is a big accomplishment, since he's also crazy. The stories I could tell of that illustrious family. They call it theatre for a reason."

Not being one who was interested in such gossip, Dad took the cue to grab his dessert and escape to his study. Lizzy knew he'd ask later, in earnest, for the facts. Lizzy wanted to follow and have the discussion right away, but found herself glued to the seat, transfixed by what she should know to be slander out of this interloper's mouth. She could say nothing, however.

Jane, her usual sphinx-like self, was similarly silent. Mother, Wickham's newest admirer, asked for more details. She'd never been interested in Theatre when Lizzy and Jane talked about it, but then they weren't prone to gossip. Of course, rather than discuss the family's occupation, of which Lizzy had never known and was far more interested, he proceeded to discuss more of his pet subject for the night.

Wickham went on to retell his many injuries at the hands of one Mr. Darcy. After hearing them this summer, Lizzy still didn't know what to think. Especially now that she'd met the man who 'wronged' him. Darcy was haughty and rude, but he wasn't without feeling or principle- she knew that much. Wait, is this me thinking these thoughts? Didn't I just accuse the man of being like Valmont and using me?

Even having been acquainted with him since June, Lizzy didn't think she really knew Wickham. Inevitably, he'd sabotaged every hope she'd had that they could even be friends. Now she was left having feelings of discomfort around him. She was still unsure if he was in a relationship as he acted so oddly towards her, as well as a number of men and women in Lambton.

Ordinarily she'd consider it none of her business and that didn't necessarily have to do with whether he was a good person or not. But Wickham also showed excessive attention to her baby brother. It eerily reminded Lizzy of his attentions to her and to the people he stayed the night with when in Lambton. She pushed this out of her mind as unthinkable and focused on his derision of Darcy.

"Wickham, you've been around me enough to know I laugh when you're funny but right now you're being a complete bore. Whatever Darcy is, if you're no longer friends and he's so odd, why would you care about what he's doing now?"

Wickham became serious. "I like you and from what I know of your family" He looked at Lydon. "I like them very well, too. I wanted to give you all fair warning about a man who is not to be trifled with. He could ruin your career Lizzy Jane, like he did mine, all because I stood up to him. One word from him and people don't hire you, won't even look at you. Lifelong friends will side with him. He thinks that a friend is someone who gives him his way- a friend, to him isn't a person but a possession. He never lets go of his possessions willingly because he's delusional. Darcy stayed summers at 'special retreats' because he was so cracked he couldn't endure being a normal teenager. His parents never saw how dangerous he was and coddled him, calling him an artistic visionary. He's quite successful with ladies using his mystical artist shtick. Anyone can read people; I call it immoral to act like it is gift and use it to manipulate them."

All color drained from her face and Lizzy's body went cold. This was all too easy for Lizzy to imagine- Darcy's passions seemed to turn on a moment, and he did seem to take possession with a visionary force.

Jane noticed her expression change. The two elder sisters silently communicated while everyone else was eating. Lydon's usual annoying eagerness for attention saved Lizzy from anyone else's notice. Not that his eagerness was a good thing in this case. "Well he sounds really interesting to me! I think it would be fun to mess with him- you know, stand outside his window and 'haunt' him or something. I bet you could come up with something good for laughs, Wicked"

Great. Lydon even had a ridiculous nickname for the man. Lizzy would have nicknamed him Weirdo. It wasn't a good weird either. Maybe Wicked was more appropriate, if metalhead* sounding. Or new goth. She sometimes got them confused. Lizzy was amusing herself by the digression, her characteristic sense of humor saving Lizzy from a tableside panic attack.

"Well, sounds like fun, Lydon, but I have to keep a distance from the man if you know what I mean." She was pretty sure that Lydon didn't know what Wickham meant.

Jane and Lizzy looked at each other again. She knew Jane well enough; Jane was wondering about this man's past too. Lizzy wondered what Jane knew of Darcy's back story. Was she too besotted with Charles to venture into such tangents? Lizzy didn't get a chance to talk to Dad that night, nor did she get a chance to debrief the summer or other things with her Jane. She made a mental note to do it later. Her attention was pulled in a billion different directions and at least took a favorable turn.

Aunt Phil and Uncle D came to the door, were summarily greeted, offered repast, sat down to eat, made small talk, and finished the meal. Aunt Phil was clearly bursting to tell Lizzy of her newest find. She hustled Uncle D out to the car and he brought in a large nondescript tote. Aunt Phil opened it with a flourish of dust and bid her look inside.

Amidst a few insect carcasses and cobwebs was an unimaginable quantity of jet seed and other beaded strands in mint condition, along with other embellishments. Her donation to Longbourn! Lizzy was thrilled. It was perfect for one of the design problems that Darcy had testily questioned her about earlier today. He reminded Lizzy they'd discussed the Grand Dame, Lady C to be perpetually in mourning clothes and asked what she planned, other than the requisite bombazine.*

Darcy had shown appropriately mournful, yet baroquely detailed backdrops he proposed for Lady C's grand estate. The director obsequiously praised Darcy's vision and challenged Lizzy to come up with something complimentary for the costumes. When Lizzy reviewed 'to do' lists with Maeve later in the shop, she sided with them. Lizzy had to stop being a wuss, she said. Costume Shop Babes had balls, she said. What about the part where we stood up for our own ideas? Lizzy wondered at the time.

Well, now here came reinforcements, inspiring Lizzy with this funereal bolt from the blue. She'd never been so glad to see Aunt Phil. Except for that time she'd brought some Nudie* boots in Lizzy's size, or last Christmas when she inherited one of her biggest Turquoise cuffs*.

But really, Aunt Phil had been her biggest fan since she taught Lizzy to sew as a young girl, back when Mama had disowned Aunt Phil about the Farm inheritance. Lizzie told Mama she was going to a 4-H project after school with Charlotte when really she was walking over to Aunt Phil's store.

Thank goodness she was honest-eventually- and Aunt Phil and Mama patched things up. Of course it came about because Lizzy made sure to sell the benefits of her sewing skills- such as making Fair Queen costumes which normally cost an arm and a leg. Of course Mama 'let' her sew as long as she sewed for the family, too. While this agreement was like a bargain with a she- devil given the scope of Mama's projects, Aunt Phil was unconditional in her support and she shared a great deal of Lizzy's confidences. And of course it went a long way to win back her sister's favor when Aunt Phil liberally bestowed treasures upon the Bennet nieces and nephew.

Material things aside, Aunt Phil was her first and most loved mentor, and she was dying to know more about Mr Fancy pants. She took the hint when Lizzy gave her a warning expression; Aunt Phil said nothing more on the subject. They busied themselves poring over the period regalia.

Jane disappeared, no doubt to call a certain someone. The others, bored by old stuff, also went their separate ways after their curiosity about what was in the bin had been satisfied. Concerned of who might overhear, Lizzy contented herself with one of her favorite activities- talking about vintage and sewing with Aunt Phil until Uncle D started prodding her that it was late and they needed to go.

Already exhausted from the past 24 hours' events, Lizzy fell into bed after the guests left.

The next few days were spent in a buzz of ideas, plans, creating, schoolwork, and, when she could get it, stolen moments talking with Jane. Lizzy had tried to gain intelligence about Jane's summer, but gained only apologies at not writing and redirected conversation. If that was how her sister wanted to deal with things for now, so be it. She allowed Jane to keep her own counsel about Bingley.

The black belt used her tactics effecting Lizzy to open up, however. Usually the sisters were in the shop and it was late one evening when Jane questioned her sister. In bits and pieces Lizzy told Jane some of her 'encounter' but not all. Jane offered unequivocal support in favor of Lizzy furthering her relationship with Darcy. Lizzy imagined she needed to tell Jane the whole story. But with the odd volunteer and even Maeve about, Lizzy couldn't very well discuss certain goings on regarding That Man. She wasn't avoiding things.

She just didn't want Maeve to know the extent of things. Her Costume Design Mentor was practically pushing Lizzy and Jane together with certain visiting artists. Maeve was clearly biased. What if she even liked Darcy better than her? If things didn't work out it could prove exceedingly difficult to continue learning how to craft clothing and accouterments from the woman.

After Cole dashed the Plan A of moving to New York and moving up in the garment industry there, it had taken time- and being on The Mountain this summer- to finally instill a certainty in her Plan. No, Lizzy didn't want to consider a Plan C. She could not, would not complicate things by confiding in Maeve.

Jane didn't see any reason to hide her goings on from Maeve. After all, Jane only saw her at work. Lizzy saw Maeve at work AND school, practically all the time. Not that Jane could hide it. Bingley came by the shop on some excuse multiple times during the day. If they couldn't get away, he'd bring them lunch or dinner. Usually he and Jane would eat at the bench out back privately laughing and sharing their food.

Lizzy had tried to glean information from Jane about her feelings. Jane opened up as much as Jane was honest with herself. It was clear to Lizzy that Jane was still guarding her heart. At least when he showed up in the shop, Bingley was everything affable, often praising Lizzy's work, admiring what she was doing, even if she had to scrap her work later due to a certain man's interference in designs. Bingley agreed to everything and denied nothing. Lizzy could see why Jane liked him. He was easy to like, even if he kept Jane from being accessable to Lizzy for confiding in, damn them. Lizzy couldn't be mad. Jane deserved her happiness.

For as much as she was determined to focus her energies on school and the production, not to mention Mama's latest projects, Lizzy didn't know why she kept thinking about That Man. He seemed always in the shadows, ever since that first day. He still gave feedback about changes in her work, and everyone's but it took a less officious tone. He asked more questions and was more liberal in his praises, when deserved.

Yet, he evaded direct contact with her, which elicited more desire on her part to have said unexpected contact. She craved it, and warred with herself. Contact would lead to other things that would risk the production, Maeve's good will, and most importantly her heart. How could it be that he stirred her heart?

Lizzy expressed these thoughts as best she could to Jane without telling her 'the secret' of that first meeting with Darcy. Jane just looked at Lizzy like she'd grown horns and told Lizzy that she expected her sister to act like an adult and keep an open mind about people. Lizzy wondered if Jane would be so open minded if she knew 'the secret'. Lizzy had no room for doubt.

He was the bad guy, right? He seduced her as part of some kind of scenario. Going to dinner with him would either mean tolerating his arrogance or, worse, he would pull some trick again to make her like him more. What was that about?

If Darcy really was the good guy, then she was the ass and she really screwed things up. Why was she spending so much time preoccupied with him? She even realized today, after the umpteenth time going to the restroom, she was really just looking around, anticipating she'd see him. Unbelievable.

She decided it was high time to redirect her energies. When Lizzy needed inspiration, she'd find some female artist to emulate; that always inspired her to get focused. She considered the Authoress of the Play Herself, but figured it would only serve to make her think more of Him and not less.

Hearkening back to discussions with The Tailor, Lizzy rifled through the extensive Costume Shop CD collection of female artists (many of which she had contributed, herself), and decided to put on some Josephine Baker. For good measure, Lizzy went through the artificial flowers and ribbons, fashioning herself some semblance of Mexican folk hair ornamentation. She took out her makeup bag and penciled in her eyebrows more heavily but drew the line at filling in the center. While she'd never like women in the way Frida and Josephine did, by getting herself in such a mood, she was able to feel a little more again like she had no need for this man, any man.

It got her back into the task at hand. She worked long into the night to finish all the night clothes for the production. They were simple pieces to bang out and, surely, He hadn't deigned to change them yet, even after all the notes, why on earth would he do so now? She mentally dared him to do it. She was prepared. Tomorrow she'd wear her huilpil dress. And eyebrows. She needed eyebrows.

*Metalhead- one who listens to heavy metal music.

*Bombazine and Jet- used in mourning in earlier eras

www dot

*Nudie- NOT the hipster brand. Nudie was a really cool Nashville designer who made awesome costumes for a lot of country western music stars. Nudie boots are the bomb

www dot /gallery_fashions01 dot html

*Turquoise cuffs: www jewelrynavajo dot com/Bracelets/?page=11

*Josephine Baker and Frida Kahlo had an affair

Chapter 9: As long as somebody takes me

When they'd had lunch together in El Paso before the listening listening party, Jane, Charles, Richard, Char and Darcy had decided dinner date was in order for the New Mexican food Charles raved about. Lizzy had gone through a roller coaster of feelings about the 'date', but couldn't bring herself to call it off.

With universal encouragement (coercion) on the part of Jane and Char, Lizzy determined she wouldn't be sabotage others' plans for amorous bliss. Anyway, in a final bid to avoid Him, Lizzy protested to her sister and Char she couldn't go on the date due to her professional conflict of interest.

Both her supposedly loyal sister and friend saw no reason that she couldn't go out with the temporary faculty seeing as how they were equals in the same production. Maeve had looked pointedly at Lizzy and commented that visiting faculty and student artists were equals and didn't have any barriers for a relationship. Really, they had no consideration for her nerves. Or her artistic career. Damn them, It had better be worth it.

Lizzy was wondering if That Man could give her any intelligence about Wickham. It had been several days and nothing had happened to her family in the way of conquests or uncharacteristic behavior. She argued to herself that nothing had happened and of course nothing would.

But maybe she did need to get Darcy's point of view on the situation. No, that would bring up a decidedly uncomfortable topic. Tonight she would just observe Darcy. He was annoyingly fun to observe. Her agenda was settled.

With her beau having time off, Char announced they would spend as much quality time together as possible, thus leaving Jane, Lizzy and the others in charge of their own rides. Char's scheme worked out conveniently for Jane, who had hours to work at the shop and Charles planned his schedule accordingly, likewise spending his afternoon at Longbourn Theatre Company and arranging to take her to dinner from there.

Lizzy had different hours than Jane that day, having started in the shop early, after much needed art studio time, then, back home to clean up and change for the dreaded evening.

Darcy, too, had to clean up before dinner. Backdrop painting was always a splattered, whole body process. Since Netherfield was near the Gardiner-Bennet Farm, it made sense that Darcy should pick Lizzy up.

When he arrived, Lizzy was too embarrassed to take note of the car's occupants because Francesca had bustled out the car, affecting a larger than life down- home accent, saying embarrassing things about the Mercedes and asking about its owner and his career. Lizzy simply got in the car and firmly told her mother they had to be going, much to the relief of the car's other two occupants. It was with great surprise that Lizzy found not only Darcy, but also an unfamiliar- if overdressed- creature, arriving in Darcy's vehicle.

Quirking her eyebrows, Lizzy was about to speak when the creature introduced herself. Lizzy replied in kind, amused at the woman's range of expression, which managed to affect condescension despite the Botox injections.

Caroline continued, "That outfit is really unique. Where ever did you find those pieces? I mean, I don't care what men think, either, I am all for BoHo Chic. You must tell me where you get your quirky things so I can live like the natives."

Lizzy had to keep a straight face, responding "I'm surprised: I didn't realize you were the type of artist to wear other people's old things! I thought you were more the Urban Outfitters type? Anyway, I'd be happy to take you to my aunt's junque shop if you like. I'm sure she'd give you a starving artist discount, since you have that boHO look."

There was a flash in the overhead mirror, a telltale sign to Lizzy that Darcy had adjusted it. She watched with intrigue as his eyes ranged over her, first at the skinny jeans that did amazing things to her legs, then upward to the peasant blouse with delicate flowers that accented her hourglass figure. He could see her body through the sheer fabric in the moments when the light shone just right and it displayed her décolletage from time to time.

"Something wrong with your mirror? Or with my shirt?" In the mirror her sparkling eyes met his.

She noticed with self satisfaction that his eyes now bore a sheepish expression. "No everything is perfect, especially your shirt."

"Well, be careful with your mirrors- don't have an accident!" Their eyes met again in the mirror.

"Yes, William, these backwoods can be deceitful." Caroline looked back meaningfully at Lizzy.

"I think you mean deceiving." Lizzy finally recognized Caroline's name and found it astounding that such well constructed, detailed art could be made by the creature before her Lizzy would not be intimidated, even by someone as preeminent as this.

"Oh, how useful! You know how to dress and you're an expert at the English language!" Darcy ventured a glance at Caroline as she said this, unable to hide the slight grimace from Lizzy.

Again they shared a moment in the rearview mirror. Darcy tore his eyes away from her to concentrate on the road while silently talking to himself, his lips unwittingly moving, something which Lizzy found quirky and charming despite herself.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Caroline maneuvered to sit next to Darcy. "Actually Caroline, I remember your brother saying he had to talk to you about our studio arrangements. You know, he's been so occupied that he has to fit it in some time- what better time than now?" Caroline assumed an affected, businesslike posture and obediently sat by her brother.

Darcy sat next to Lizzy. Conspiracy! Lizzy inwardly grumbled. Her thoughts were redirected by the sensation of his body next to hers. The ticklish static feeling to her right reminded Lizzy of movement class when the instructor told them to rub their hands together then hold them, palms slightly apart. The instructor had told them it was the feeling of energy.

Darcy took off his leather to reveal a thin Lou Reed shirt. Lizzy noticed he had more tattoos than the band on both biceps and a necklace peeked from under his shirt. She thought about getting his shirt off…. to see the tattoos and necklace better. It had been too dark before, she joked to herself. He also had on a pair of well worn, classic cowboy boots. And, those dark jeans nicely showed him off. By the looks of things, he seemed quite virile. He certainly felt virile the other night, Lizzy couldn't help but remember. She blushed

"Is there something wrong with my jeans?"

Infuriatingly for Lizzy, she blushed more deeply. She'd been caught. "No, nothing at all. They are very…. Nice. Red Lines*?" She concentrated on her glass of water.

"Nice. For a Costume Major that is very original. And yes, you have a good eye. In fact they are Red Lines. 1970's I seem to recall the tag saying."

With characteristic good timing, Bingley offered to buy the group a round of Negro Modelos*. Caroline politely declined (maybe it wasn't artsy enough beer, Lizzy mused), while the rest drank beer and ate chips and salsa.

At others' urging that she try the salsa, Caroline dipped a chip in. Being able to take the heat was an established more of New Mexican culture, and Caroline didn't want to seem like a wimp to Darcy. Everyone had to hold back a laugh as she tried to act nonchalant after she took her first bite and tears streamed down her face. She delicately excused herself from the table.

While Caroline continued to try to nonchalantly get Darcy's attention, the party reveled in conversation while enjoying the beer, chips and salsa. When the food hadn't arrived, Bingley ordered another round while still nursing his first drink. Lizzy, Bingley and Jane seemed quite tipsy. The food finally came and the crowd ordered another beer to go with the food. And apparently this tipsy Charles was also a very affectionate, as he draped himself over Jane, who didn't seem to mind being nearly suffocated in the least.

Caroline still had no alcohol, as there were no favorable selections of beer or wine on the menu. As they waited, Caroline received call from her agent at this, most inconvenient time. Lizzy supposed by her oddly placed facial creases that Caroline was irritated but, it was really hard to tell. Lizzy thought she saw a smug look flicker on Charles's face and noticed that Darcy had looked pointedly at his friend when Caroline's call came in. She supposed Charles had intervened somehow. Caroline's call took over of a half hour leaving the others to enjoy themselves.

A lightweight, the two beers diminished Lizzy's inhibitions, resulting in her flirting outrageously with Darcy. As Lizzy told stories of her theatre experiences, she would occasionally lock eyes with Darcy, brush his arm with her fingertips, or touch his knee with her knee. She wasn't too tipsy to notice his nostrils flare like a bull's when a flag is waved in front of it. She even leaned toward him a few times and could feel him lightly lean back.

*Red Lines-vintage (or reproduction vintage) Levis with the characteristic red line selvedge edge on the outer seam so when you cuff the hem the red line shows, enhancing one's coolness factor for anyone who knows vintage Levi's. The market topped out in the late 90s when Japanese investors were buying them. They'd wear 2 at a time at the height of the craze. They still have a higher price than regular Levi's.

*Negro Modelo- delicious Mexican beer that enhances one's enjoyment of New Mexican cuisine, if one drinks alcohol.

Chapter 9: Who's acting?

When the dinner came to an end, Charles slurred, "Hey Caroline, need your help…. You drive my car home! We can drop off Jane first, I know how to get there, on the way." Clearly Caroline was stuck as Bingley was in no state to drive. Lizzy couldn't imagine how Caroline driving them home could further Charles's suit with Jane, but so be it. Then, Lizzy saw Bingley clearly wink at her and Darcy on their way out, after Jane and his sister had turned to leave. She giggled.

"Elizabeth, could you use some coffee?"

She perked up "Sounds great! I'm too f*ed up to go home like this. Mom would totally have a fit. I hate it when she has her fits." At this play on words Lizzy giggled then her face became serious. She plopped down in the seat next to Darcy.

He turned on the car and his Ipod which happened to be playing the Cult's The Witch*. This had the effect of changing her mood and attention again. Lizzy sang while gyrating to the beat; the song was a clear favorite.

Her breasts were more exposed, as she was now a little past caring whether the scoopnecked shirt was properly in place- the breeze felt good. Whoa, and Whee punctuated her singing each time Darcy veering dangerously. She didn't notice how he had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road. The next track Fire Woman played and she sang along with it "Fi-i-r-r-r-r-re, smoke she is a rising! Darcy, did you know I once swallowed fire? I did it for a demonstration."

"Do you often make it a habit of playing with fire, Miss Bennet?"

Between continuing to sing and gyrate Lizzy managed to respond; "I think you're talking about relationships, not fire, Mr. Darcy! For your information, no, I don't make it a habit- I got burned one too many times and it won't happen again! Ever! She paused. You! You are very, very, very, very, hot. But I have to consider my future. I don't need you messing it up." Lizzy turned to him, an accusing finger lingeringly touching his chest.

Somehow Darcy had found a coffee shop without any help from Lizzy. He parked the car and let it idle, keeping the heater and music on. "You are quite … fiery yourself. You better be careful, because it is quite warm in here."

"Well, then maybe I could get you to take your shirt off and show me your tattoos and that necklace. They are innn-teresssting."

He obliged, showing her the work- with said shirt on. He first took out the necklace, a hammered silver half heart, it surface rather primitively etched with a stunning woman's face in profile. The face was eerily familiar to Lizzy but she couldn't say why. "That's my mother. I made it when she passed. The other half is me and my brother in profile and it was put on her before she was laid to rest".

"Oh!" Lizzy's eyes teared up. "I'm sorry. How exquisite it is, how beautiful you made it for her." Reaching out, Lizzy held the pendant, placing it gently back on his chest, letting her hand linger over his heart. While the slight inebriation had enabled her to be more flirtatious, it also served to heighten her awareness of Darcy and she noticed him shift uncomfortably. When she looked down, the reason was obvious. She couldn't help but stare until he coughed a little, looking meaningfully at her.

He rolled up his sleeves to better reveal his smooth muscled arms. "This is my tribal band and it says Nada Es Permanente* under the plumed skull designs. Here is the sun above it, and the moon on the other side."

Again Lizzy touched him- this time she lightly caressed his arms where his tattoos were. "I like that." She was leaning so close. "What is the story?"

"It means nothing is permanent- I got it after my mother passed." Darcy straightened up, abruptly rolling his sleeves back down and put on his blazer. "Shall we have some coffee Ms. Bennet? Allow me. I insist." Darcy opened the car door for her. Again he noticed her breasts and could see now that what underpinnings she wore beneath the blouse were inadequate to disguise her hard, pink tips, all the more obvious by the way she was holding her arms from the cold. Tearing his eyes away, he floundered, "You must be cold, would you like my jacket?" She declined, retrieved a sizeable floral and paisley scarf, wrapping it around herself several times as they walked toward the shop.

They ordered coffee and flan*, and sat quietly eating and drinking. The pert look in her eyes reappeared; replacing the more open, almost brazen look they previously bore. "Mr Darcy you have me at a disadvantage. I told you stories and shamelessly flirted with you all evening. Now that I am a little more sober I can say I'm quite embarrassed. I apologize for my behavior."

"You have nothing for which to apologize. I quite enjoy you whatever the circumstances, you must know." He blushed and shifted, showing a sudden interest in the contents of his coffee mug. His tense posture indicated he was about to speak but seeming minutes went by with no words.

Lightly, she said, "I have done a lot of talking. I am quite ready to listen. Tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?" Darcy countered, more than asked.

Her brows knit, but kept her smile, "Anything. Tell me a story. About your childhood perhaps."

He blanched. Lizzy wondered why. "I can't think of anything, I doubt you want to hear anything I would want to say at the moment."

"Do you have something to hide, Fitzwilliam Darcy?" Her eyes glittered in challenge.

His posture became tense and he bowed his head considering something for a moment. "No, Ms. Bennet, I find myself at a loss for words, but not because I am hiding- from you or anyone."

"Even Caroline?"

He searched for words. "Well, sometimes from Caroline, but that's irrelevant at the moment. I'm always reserved in a new environment. Dona Maria is totally different from Santa Fe-it's like they aren't even in the same state. I'm out of my element there, but at least it's familiar. My only friends here are Charles and Richard-and Maeve I suppose. There are few people with whom I feel totally comfortable. And still fewer with whom I am comfortable to share my innermost thoughts."

"What about me?" She whispered.

"What about you?" He countered.

She leaned a little closer. "Are you comfortable with me?"

Darcy's face burned, as Lizzy leaned even closer, again revealing much of her creamy chest. He looked decidedly away from her. He fingered the pendant as he spoke. "Well, we've talked about this before- what I feel for you is more than what I normally feel for other artists with whom I work. More than professional respect. I'd like to know you more. More than anyone in a long time. Something about you has engaged me with ideas, recollections. You are vastly superior to the woman I thought I would someday meet. But you've shown me that you aren't comfortable knowing the truth, so I can't say anymore. I won't push. You know what I would very much like, but I won't say it again, not now."

Tonight was not the time for Lizzy to ask about the subject of his ideas or recollections. She must yet protect herself from the origin of those thoughts, if the palpable tension projecting from him was any indication. Perhaps Wickham was right about the mad visionary thing. But she wasn't content with his continued vagaries.

Lizzy rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. All night Darcy stared at her, he flirted, to be sure- it was obvious there was physical attraction. But when she attempted to draw him out, the man reverted to cryptic answers. The more Lizzy thought about his behavior, the more irritated she became.

"You just keep talking in eloquent nonsense when it gets personal, but you have no problem with your words or ideas if it's to criticize. You had no problem with showing me positive reinforcement, as you called it, that other night, when it was sexual. And yet, you fascinate me. I must hate myself to want so badly to know someone who clearly looks at my work only to criticize. How can I want you when you don't respect my work?" She immediately gasped, surprised she'd spoken so frankly. She hadn't meant to tell him that.

Darcy became more reserved as he carefully considered the woman in front of him. "The fact is we both were interested in other things that night that transcend a role. We may have our disagreements about production details but I appreciate your input. You are talented and as the designer of this show, a professional. I think its disingenuous for us to act like we can't be equals here (pointing to his and her hearts) when you take every opportunity to remind me. I remain your equal, regardless of the role. If you were truly honest with yourself, you'd acknowledge the positive reinforcements I've given about your work. You have only to open your eyes to see that. You are the only one that can decide where your talent takes you, and where we go. Don't put that on me alone because you know it's not just mine".

Her eyes flashed, insulted that he hadn't apologized for his heavy handed criticisms. She hadn't meant to dig for compliments but, dammit, it felt like she was after he stopped so short of anything positive to say except to hint at his attraction and that he liked her a lot. "Well, as your colleague, I think it's been a late night and I need to get back home so I'll be ready for more production challenges tomorrow. I think I've had enough."

Darcy obliged and they left the coffee house. Her mind was whirring with her own supreme hypocrisy in her continued state of erotic excitement at the dangerous prospect driving next to her.

* link to the music: The Witch

www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=TnyxEz4l70Q

Fire Woman

www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=ZHNiYIvt7ag

*flan- custardy caramely delightful Mexican dessert

*Nada Es Permanente- Nothing is Permanent.

* tattoo example: www dot ratemyink dot com/images/ul/462/Mayan-Serpent-tattoo-46217 dot jpeg

The evening isn't *quite* over, yet. If someone new sends me a kind review I will post the rest of the evening, and probably a little more, this weekend.

Thank you for reading!