"Is that all, Mr. Darcy?"

"Unless we have any reason to anticipate another surge of client activity within the month?"

"No, sir."

"Then that is all."

Darcy dismisses his chief customer service executive with a nod, and he sighs when he finally has his office to himself again. He steals a glance at his watch. It's 4:40. The work day is ending, at least for everybody else. On most days, this is when he starts his last major task for the day so that he and Lizzy can wrap up around the same time at 6:00 and carpool back to the suburbs together. They'd make and share a quick dinner, watch a movie, and head into their respective bedrooms.

It's comfortable and predictable. It's a companionable existence that he has to admit suits his type of temperament.

It would be perfect, really, if he didn't constantly feel an itch for more.

Lizzy has been the perfect wife. She coordinates with him before making any sort of social commitment. She likes the chores he hates and hates the chores he likes. The last two weeks of his life have been the most comfortable he's ever been - once they'd managed to last the rest of their supposed honeymoon coming just short of sharing a bed.

But tonight is different, because Lizzy isn't in the building with him. She's off work early to visit her family, and she's even been considerate enough to make excuses for him - just to spare him from the constant inquisitions and insinuations of one Mrs. Bennet. Again, she's been the perfect wife - always giving him just enough companionship and just enough space. They've never really talked about their bedroom situation, but she hasn't been complaining.

Why should he?

Darcy groans as he stares at the reports on his desk. Some people think running a company means glamor and prestige and getting to boss people around all day. What they don't realize is that it's just a continuous stream of high-stakes decision-making - something he is distinctly not in the mood for today.

He throws his head back against his swivel chair. He had big plans for tonight. He would work until 7:00, go home without worrying if his driving passes muster, stream his favorite movies non-stop, order his favorite foods, and maybe even whip out his PlayStation. But none of those things feel particularly appealing right now - at least, not without Lizzy.

An hour later, he packs up his things and heads down to parking, his foot tapping on the elevator floor the entire way. He unlocks his car from a distance, stretches his neck, and slips behind the steering wheel.

Then, inexplicably, he drives for the Bennet family home.


"The view could not be better, I tell you. It's a pity you couldn't join us! But then, with such a hunk of a husband, I wouldn't expect you'd want to!" Mom laughs so loudly over her own brash joke - her twentieth for the day - that Lizzy wishes the couch could swallow her whole. She's happy for her mother that she'd enjoyed the recent Bennet family ski trip, even if she only had her silly twin daughters accompanying her instead of her three more sensible ones. But it's not like Mom seems to care.

"I'm sure it must be nice," says Jane.

"Wonderful, truly. But there's a section reserved for members only. Maybe your husbands can help us get in next year?"

The doorbell chimes, and Lizzy jumps up like it's a heaven-sent intervention. "I'll get it!"

"I wonder who it can be? Do watch out, Lizzy, I've heard that some muggers have recently been - "

Mom's voice trails off in the background as Lizzy turns down the hall of their modest 3-bedroom childhood home. She doesn't really care who's at the door. It can be a lost pizza delivery guy, or it can be late Amazon delivery. It can even be an overeager Jehovah's Witness, and she wouldn't care. She'll welcome with open arms anyone who can get her away from her mother after the last two hours.

A firm knock echoes from the door right before she throws it open. "Hi, if you can - oh."

In a remarkable improvement over all other possible scenarios in her mind, her husband stands at the door, looking just hesitant enough to be endearing. He gives her a slight smile, along with a single-shoulder shrug. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nope," Lizzy squeaks.

Did he come all the way here - for her? She was carpooling with Jane tonight, and the prospect of having to stay another two hours until Jane feels they can politely leave the family suddenly feels even more undesirable now that a breathing, living, oh-so-much-better option stands before her.

"If you'd rather I go - "

"Not without me," Lizzy says. She pulls up to peck his cheek and quickly pulls back indoors to grab her coat. "Darcy's here. I think I need to go!"

"Darcy's here?" Mom hollers down the hall. Shuffling noises follow. "Can you ask him about the membership? There's this exquisite cabin - "

"Okay, I'll ask him!"

Darcy quirks a questioning brow at her. She shushes him before mouthing 'later.'

"It's a long drive. I gotta go!" Lizzy announces.

"Now?" It's Jane's voice this time. "I thought we would - "

"Do you mind if I go first?" Lizzy rushes back up the hallway to meet her family halfway. When they all look at her like they're ready to throw every protest her way, she rambles on, "I mean, he's driven all across town for me, and I was thinking - I mean, well - " She sighs and pulls on her most lovestruck look. "It's just that it's the first day we've been apart since we got married, and it's just - sort of really hard and I - "

"But of course!" Mom agrees with so much enthusiasm that Lizzy almost worries Darcy would come over to interrogate her. "Go, go - we wouldn't want to be in the way of the lovebirds!"

Lizzy mutters her apologies before running back to her husband, who was still standing in the most gentlemanly way by the door.

"If you need to stay, Lizzy, we can - "

"Nope! Don't have to!" She grabs him by the arm and practically hauls him to the car at the bottom of the driveway. "I feel a desperate need to watch another Christopher Nolan movie tonight, if you would be kind enough to drive us back."

His lips twitch into a smile as he slides behind the wheel, looking more suave than anyone has the right to be after a long work day. "We've already watched them all, you know."

"A short one then - Dunkirk? I just need to decompress."

They pull out the drive. "I would hardly ever consider Dunkirk decompressing."

"Fine. We'll watch all six episode of BBC's Pride and Prejudice."

"Dunkirk it is."


His fingers fidget, his eyes trailing to his desk drawer every handful of seconds. Last night, with Lizzy falling asleep on his lap halfway through the movie, her hair tickling his skin through his sweatpants, he came the closest he's ever done to wanting to pull her up in his arms and carry her to his room.

Technically, they're married. And as long as he manages to get some form of consent from her, there's really nothing whatsoever keeping him from making their marriage one that transcends what's on paper.

But is it too selfish of him, or maybe too cowardly of him, to ask for that step now?

His eyes wander back to his drawer - the one that houses the prenup agreement he's never handed in to be filed. The fact that he's afraid to broach the topic with her until he's more certain of whatever it is bubbling between them just confirms to Darcy that he is a Class-A coward. But can anyone really blame him for being afraid to rock the boat?

If anyone were to tell the William Darcy he'd been ten years ago that he would one day marry Lizzy Bennet, that arrogant young man would have taken the prophesy as a given fact. Of course Lizzy Bennet would be happy to marry him. But he's no longer that kid. He's grown, and he thinks she's grown.

The question is whether they've grown closer towards each other in the process.

A knock on his office door pulls Darcy away from fidgeting with his drawer handle.

"Yes?"

He expects his secretary. Instead, his wife peeks in.

"Hey, have time for a chat?" Her stray bangs brush against her cheeks. She looks pretty - way too pretty.

Darcy smiles. He doesn't even care if he looks lovestruck at this point. He feels lovestruck. "Anything for the boss."

She laughs before striding over. Instead of taking the chair across his desk, she slides onto the edge of his desk, revealing a good few inches of thigh in the process. Half of him wants to draw her attention to the slip in modesty, just in case it's unintentional. The other half of him wants to run his hands over the tantalizingly exposed skin.

He hides his groan. He's fast becoming no better than a horny teenager.

"I might have to work late tonight." She pouts a little. He forces his eyes up to hers. "A couple of vloggers just did a very favorable take on Pemberley Inc., and we need to capitalize on the ripple effect ASAP before it dies out."

"Sounds exciting."

She glares. "You hire me for this stuff, you know."

"And I'd like to think I've been the employer of the year."

"Only if I get to be employee of the year."

"You realize the entire company, no, the board and the entire world will basically cry nepotism, right?"

"Why? What if your wife is the best employee in the company? Why should I be disqualified for a wholly deserved honor just because I sleep with the boss?"

Her choice of words sends him choking, and Darcy tries his very best to pretend he hadn't just suffered a mini heart-attack. He tries to grin in what he hopes is a playful way before saying, "But you don't."

She shrugs, even if her cheeks look just a tiny bit more pink than they did a moment ago. "They don't know that."

"No, they don't."

"Right."

"Because if they did - if anyone did - then the whole point of the fake marriage is moot."

"Exactly."

They stare at each other, a thousand little questions swirling in air around them. Will she ask any of them? Or will he? Given that they, and his lawyer, are basically the only people in the world who know just how fake of a marriage this is, they can't exactly count on anyone apart of their tiny circle of secret-keepers to help them with the emotional no man's land that stretches between them.

His throat dries, but he holds his tongue.

He's already asked so much of her. Does he really have the right to ask for more?

"Do you want me to wait for you?" he asks instead.

Her small smile looks both relieved and disappointed at the same time. "I think you'd want dinner before that."

He pulls a one-shoulder shrug. "I can eat here. You need to eat too."

"Have you seen the snack bar HR recently installed? We don't go hungry around here."

"I admit I've never actually seen the snack bar, but I do have a report somewhere on this desk that tells me how much it costs us to maintain it."

"Then we might as well maximize it." Lizzy hops off the desk, letting her skirt fall back to a disappointingly modest knee-length. "Thanks for the offer. It's really sweet. But I think I've kept you from sleeping at a proper hour enough for the week."

Not for all the fun reasons - he's tempted to retort. But his control over his tongue does help sometimes.

"I'll see you at home then."

"See you." She smiles. Then as if on impulse, she leans in to kiss his brow.

He kisses her cheek.

They pause.

Gently, she pulls away. "Don't work too hard, boss."

He smiles back. "You too."

He watches her leave, his eyes glued to the sway of her body the entire way out. Lizzy is brilliant, thoughtful, competent, and unfairly enticing. His eyes stray back to the drawer, the prenup as clear in his mind as if it were in plain sight rather than under lock-and-key.

If only everything else was as clear.


A/N: I'm having a hard time keeping this PG-13 because, well, they are married. I don't want to go to M-territory for personal reasons, but there will be some references to "real marriages" and stuff. Just a heads up :)