Hi there ! I'm getting slower but I'm still working hard on this story. This chapter was one the very first one I wrote, but I had a number of plot holes that needed fixing before I could knit it to the rest of the story. We're slowly getting there. I feed on your comments, so thank you to everyone who takes time to write one (and thank God you don't see me jumping up and down when I read a new one, nor refreshing my browser every hour. And I definitely don't read each one at least ten times. Nope). As usual, thank you to you too, silent reader.


A bump on the road woke her up. The morning light was bathing the inside of the bus. She had slept much better than she expected. Mrs Reynolds had been right, the bus was unquestionably comfortable. Eyes still closed, she was becoming aware again. The warmth that surrounded her was so pleasant. As if a wave was filling her in, she could feel every part of her body again. She could even feel more. Her eyes flew open. Something hard and warm was pressed against her back. It couldn't be the wall of the bus, lying on her left side, she was facing it right now. And it was too agreeable. Suddenly, she realised there was a weight on her waist. And something under her head. Motionless, she tried to register more. All of this felt like body parts that were not hers. Indeed, the arm and the hand that were snaking from under her neck didn't belong to her. They were much too big. Her eyes opened wide. What had happen last night ? She was positive she went to bed alone. Or was she ? Doubt crept in her mind. Jesus, that would be so embarrassing. In a tour bus, with 3 other people inside. She couldn't possibly look them in the eye ever again. She would have to leave the country. Would she have to change her identity ? And she didn't even remember anything ! The sex must have been pretty bad. But wait, no, she was positive she went to bed alone. Eyes wide open, she tried to assess if she still had some clothes on. Yes, she did. She almost sighed out of relief. No international fleeing for now. But some questions remained : who and what the fuck ? Now she could hear the even breathing of someone sleeping near her. How could she have missed it ? And his divine manly scent was now filling her nostrils. God, that was pleasant. It had been far too long since she had woken up with a man in her bed. She should enjoy it a little while it lasted. But no, she couldn't. If it was Charles, she couldn't do this to Jane, it would break her heart. If it was Richard, she couldn't do it to Charlotte, it would break her heart too. Plus, it would be near impossible to convince her nothing more had happened with him. One last possibility remained. Her heart tightened. She hopped it would be him. She wanted it to be him. She gazed at the hands near her head and on her waist. She had watched them travel on his guitar so many times. No doubt possible. First that incredible dance and now that. It was only some strange physical attraction, right ? At least, that's what she used to think. Thought. That's what she thought. And she was right. Oh Christ, what a mess. What would he think when he would wake up ? Would he be disgusted ? Would he hold her tight, kiss her and tell her she was the most beautiful women on the planet ? A little unlikely. Better enjoy it a little before giving him a clean exit. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, pretending he was willingly holding her in his strong arms, that when he woke up, he would stroke her hair, smile that smile that turned her knees liquid and call her beautiful. Mentally, she registered all the places where their bodies touched. A shame she couldn't see his impossibly handsome face. He must look so calm right now, so at peace. She could get drunk on that sight. Why was he making her want things she couldn't have ? That was unfair.

Behind her, he sighed and she stilled, afraid he was waking up. But after a few seconds, he was still asleep. Time to break the spell. They needed to be apart when he woke up, he never needed to know they cuddled in their sleep. Having shared the same bed was more than enough. So very slowly, with her eyes closed like someone still sleeping, she tore herself away from him, and crept away. Who would have thought that such huge beds fitted in a bus ? The arm that rested on her side fell on the mattress and she felt deeply the loss of the weight on her hip. And the cold. It was much colder without him near her. Her body longed for his, screaming that that was were it belonged. Her mind was trying to gather all the arguments against it, when she felt him move behind her. The weight on the mattress was shifting. His arm encircled her waist again, pulling her to him and he groaned. She froze. His subconscious wanted her, apparently. Well, she had tried, if she moved again, she might wake him up and that would be awkward. Especially if he woke up screaming, that would wake everybody else up and that would be more uncomfortable than she could bear. International fleeing again. No, she would just wait for him to wake up and pretend she was still sleeping. Then, she would wait another 15 to 20 minutes before getting up, and greet him like they had not been spooning all night long. After all, he was still talking to Caroline when she went to bed, so he was the one who came to an already occupied bed. Hum. That's probably what happened. Maybe Lizzie had chosen his usual bed on the bus, and no-one told her. While he was talking to Caroline, he didn't notice in which bed Lizzie was lying down, and then, he unknowingly joined her. It was already dark, in all likelihood, he didn't see her lying there. It was already dark because Caroline just couldn't let him go. Poor guy. If Caroline had flutter her lashes any harder, she would have taken off. And to think Lizzie was the one in bed with him right now. All this hard work gone to waste. That was quite funny in fact. She had achieved Caroline's goal without even intending to.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air. Nothing moved, nothing had changed, yet she knew he had awoken. She focused on her breathing, trying to make it sound as even and as calm as when one is sleeping. He was awake, she knew it. But he was not moving. He was probably taken aback by the situation, like she had been. Seconds, minutes passed. Why wasn't he moving ? The weight on her side slowly lifted. He was motionless again, and then, she felt a small pressure on the back of her head. Her heart leapt. A kiss. He had kissed her hair before getting up. The surprise froze her. Of all the things her overflowing mind could imagine, this wasn't one of them. What was that suppose to mean ? She concentrated on something exterior to her sensations, like the sounds of the sheets as he was getting out of the bed. Everybody else was still in morpheus' arms. Their secret was safe. Except she knew.

As usual, Will was the first one awake. He got up and after raking his face with his hands, he instinctively started the coffee machine. What wasn't usual was to wake up beside someone else. Beside her. What had happen ? He must have joined her unknowingly. That was awkward. Thank goodness she was still asleep. The most unsettling part was that he had liked it. Very much. Very very much. Her body fitted perfectly against his. So soft and so warm. And she smelled delicious. He still couldn't understand why he had kissed her, only that it was impossible not to. He shook his head, he must stop this immediately. She was a tech for fuck's sake ! And he was a world famous rock star. He reached out for a mug, filled it and sat at the table. He started sipping his coffee while watching the scenery go by. The beauty of it was lost on him. His mind kept wandering back to that bed and that night. He had never slept so well. All he wanted right now was to crawl back to bed with her, cuddle her and burry his head in her soft curls. He was drawn to her, a moth to a flam. He wanted her. The feeling was so violent, his body was almost aching. Well, a certain part of it was certainly aching. That realisation stunned him. No it doesn't, said a little voice in his head. It has been there all along, you just kept denying it. He took his head in both hands. Christ. He was lost. How had she managed to catch him without him even realising it ? No, that was unfair, she hadn't done anything on purpose. Being herself was enough. He let out an exasperated sigh and put his hands down around his mug again, before a curve on the road would spill it's contents. His day was starting badly enough.

- Early bird, as usual, a sing-song voice stated.

And it was getting worse. Of course, Caroline would be the one to get up just after him. Did she have some sort of Darcy-sensors ? While passing him to get a mug, she leaned lightly on his shoulder. His body stiffened. After Lizzie's touch, this contact felt rough and particularly unwelcome. She sat opposite him and started to talk. Even if he was watching her, he couldn't pay attention to what she was saying. His mind was a few feet away, in bed with an other woman. He couldn't wait for her to wake up. He craved to see the way she looked like straight out of bed. He bet she was absolutely lovely. His musings were interrupted by a yawn coming from behind him. Charles was up. He stretched and passed his hands over his face. He hadn't slept well apparently. He motioned for Darcy to make some room on the bench and sat next to him.

From her bed, Lizzy was listening to their conversation, motionless, silently waiting for her time to « wake up ». She was nervous to see Darcy. What would his reaction be ? What would her reaction be ? She felt like the night they had spent together was written all over her face. Maybe she could concentrate on how irritating Caroline was, this might help her hide her feelings. Christ, if she waited any longer, she would be entirely too nervous. Everything was going to be fine.

- Hi, she said as she got out of bed with a smile before passing a hand in her hair in an attempt to control it.

She must look frightful.

Darcy turned his head and stilled. Her face was puffy from sleep and she had never look so beautiful. His lips hitched to kiss away the sleepiness in her eyes. His fingers wanted to run through those soft and wild curls. So, this was what she looked like straight out of bed. Darcy cursed himself for all the times he pictured her carefully styling her hair. Of course she would be naturally wild. How he could just stay there and stare at her when all his body demanded her touch was beyond him. He swallowed hard. He needed to hold on to something or else he would make a fool of himself by taking a clueless Lizzie in his arms and back to bed. With him. Where she belonged. His knuckles went white from tightening around his mug. A little more and he would break it. He was drowning in her sight. That t-shirt and these sweat pants were, heads down, the hottest clothes he had ever seen. If only he could get a glimpse of what was underneath. His pulse quickened. Stop. Thank god, he was sitting down, because he was enjoying the sight a little too much. He cleared his throat and stared at his coffee. Maybe that would help. Thank goodness Charles was sitting beside him. Had she taken that place, he would have gone up in flames.

Caroline could feel that something was going on. Her Darcy-sensors were on full alert. She eyed Darcy with narrowed eyes, like a cat ready to defend her territory. She didn't like that. Not at all. She needed to attack, quickly.

- Lizzie ! Good morning ! Did you sleep well ? I sure remember my first night on the bus, it was quite a thing to get to sleep while the bus was driving. But then, you get used to it, she threw Will a significant smile.

It's real meaning was « I have been here a thousand time, this is my domain, bitch ». Did she also piss in the corners of the bus ? Lizzie was sitting next to her, a steaming mug in her hands, smiling sweetly at everyone. Although not exactly a morning person, she was always in a good mood when she woke up. Even if the first person talking to her was Caroline Bingley. Her first night on the bus was also memorable, but for entirely different reasons. For a second, she considered blurting out the truth to Caroline, just to see which shade of colour she would turn. She sipped at her coffee.

- In fact, I did sleep well, thank you for your concern.

Darcy's piercing blue eyes were on her in a instant with that intense expression. She almost choked on her coffee. Had she just made a blunter ? That was an innocent answer, was it not ? She stared at her mug in what she hoped was a casual way. Not at all a we-both-know-what-we-are-talking-about kind of way.

- I don't know how you managed that with all those curves on the road, Charles noted with a yawn. I feel like I didn't get any sleep at all.

- Even as a kid, you hated sleeping in the car, Caroline remembered fondly.

- I'm not sure who hates this bus more, Will or me, Charles laughed. You and Mrs Reynolds always plan our tours so that we don't sleep on the bus too often, he said to Darcy.

- Actually, I slept remarkably well for once, Darcy stated while slowly sipping his coffee, his eyes still on Lizzie.

Lizzie's gaze unwittingly turned to him and she felt her cheeks burning. Oh my. So much for feign ignorance. She knew he knew. He knew she knew. They both knew. Crap. I've never slept better than in your arms, her whole body was whispering to him. His insanely sensual lips were caressing the edge of his cup. Never before had she wanted to become an object. That was kind of weird. Involuntarily, she bit her lower lip. He stiffened and swallowed, a new flame burning in his stormy eyes. Lizzie was melting under the heat of his gaze. All her bones disappeared. Had she been standing, she would have dropped on the floor like a ragged doll. Darcy's hands were burning to feel her, and her skin was claimed his touch. They were like magnets trying to reach each other. There was so much sexual tension between them, Lizzie wondered how Charles and Caroline did not feel the temperature rising. It was, was it not ? Because Lizzie as quite hot right now. Really, really hot.

Charles was oblivious, but Caroline did notice. Her alarm transpired in the way she twisted on her seat. Someone or something had to break this, right now. So, she did what she did best : talk about nothing.

- What do you guys plan on doing all day until the show ?

Take an ice cold shower. All day long. Lizzie let out the breath she was holding, at the same time relieved and disappointed that the moment had passed. She drowned her coffee, although she would have needed a cold, very very cold beverage.

No one was answering Caroline and she didn't even care. The only sound breaking the silence was Richard's soft snoring. What had just happen startled her. Until now, Darcy was a hard catch, but she had had no competition. Womankind didn't seem to interest him that much. He was no monk for sure, but she had never witness him respond to a girl that way before. But no, nothing could happen between them, she was a crew member, some kind of low-level employee ! He couldn't possibly do that ! What would the press say ? And the fans ? It would be a disaster. No, nothing would happen.

For the first time, Darcy was sorry they didn't get to spend additional nights on the bus. The idea of her sleeping in a hotel room close to his was haunting now that he knew how perfectly she fit in his arms. How was he supposed to stay away ? He frowned at his coffee, like it had deeply insulted him.

Darcy had never thought it would be humanly possible to experience so many different feelings during the course of one day. But the day that followed this unforgettable night, from now on known as « The Night », enlightened him on this matter. He was in turn excited, and nervous, and angry, and happy, and desperate, and the list went on. All of this behind a very calm appearance. But there's only so much a man can take, and after lunch, Will locked himself up in his hotel room and played. At least, with a guitar, a pen and a paper in his hands, he could try to control his emotions. He couldn't wait to be on stage. Tonight's show was going to be a relief.

The concert had been over for hours, and Darcy had been pacing furiously in his room for the same amount of time, at war with himself. All this playing and singing together had fed his already roaring passion. His body was screaming her name, his skin ached, her touch was the only thing that could offer him peace. He was poisoned, she was both the toxin and the cure. Both hands combed his hair. How was he supposed to spend the night here, alone, after having had her in his arms ? And he wasn't even aware of it. The sensation of waking up beside her was tattooed on his body. Her lovely smell field his nose. The softness of her untamed curls, forever on his cheeks. But it had been all so brief. To think he could have relished all of her all night long. Instead, he had stupidly slept. That looked like some kind of wicked joke from the destiny. The rational part of his brain kept repeating again and again all the reasons why it was a bad idea. But it's diatribe was slowly turning into a barely audible background noise. His heart was winning the battle against his mind. Enough. He lowered his hands. A heavy sigh emptied his lungs. He surrendered. A desperate pace led him to the door of his room and to the corridor.

A soft knock resonated on the door. Lizzie jerked up in her bed. Strange. Jane was with Charles and Charlotte and Maria were at the cinema for a late night movie. The three of them had their key card, why would they knock ? Besides, had they needed anything they would have called her on her cell phone. She was not sure where or with whom Richard was, but she couldn't picture him knocking on her door. Hum. She reached the door and opened it slightly. Darcy was standing behind it. Pure astonishment dropped her hand from the door knob and it opened wide. They had not been alone since this morning, on the bus. She had not actively avoided him, but she had not sought him out either. It was quite a strange situation. Now, oddly, she didn't blush in front of him. She was not sure what to do or say, but she didn't feel embarrassed by what had happen. The expression on his face that left her speechless, though. She had seen him brooding, angry, happy, thinking, but never this raw. Defeated. She didn't quite understand his look. Her heart contracted, her mind raced in search of something she could do to sooth him. Without being aware of her movements, she stepped aside, an invitation for him to walk in. Without a look in her direction, he headed straight to her bed, the only one with the covers undone, and climbed in. She was still standing next to the door, dumbstruck. The most beautiful guy she had ever seen was lying in her bed. Her brain just couldn't process this information. On his back, one hand behind his head, he turned his face to her and pinned his deep blue eyes in hers, that conquered mien still there. After a moment, she realised he was waiting. At least, her legs understood, because they brought her to his side. Relief flashed over his face when she crawled under the sheets. Slowly, the hand under his head went around her shoulders and cuddled her to him. Who could have thought that such a muscular guy could make the most comfortable pillow ? Her head naturally found a perfect spot to rest on his shoulder. She instantly relaxed against him and put a hand on his chest. Her leg tangled around his of it's own volition as he turned off the light. It felt so cozy. The smell and the heat of his body already felt like home. The steady beating of his heart quickly lulled her into a gorgeous sleep.

The shadows of the branches of some trees were dancing on the curtains of the hotel room. He could hear the wind slowly blowing outside. An orange light was piercing through the drapes. It was already late. Almost time to go back to his room if he wanted to avoid getting caught. This was a receipe for disaster. All of this. But he couldn't help himself. He had no control where she was concerned. And he was positive, he never slept better than with Elizabeth Bennet in his arms. Maybe he could get his GP to prescribe this to him. Medical requirement or something. Her back was to him, in the same position as the night before, on the bus. Breathing softly, she was still deep in her sleep. His hand slowly stroked the exposed skin of her arm. He traced the line of her tattoo with his index finger and continued to her shoulder, passing over the brace of her black tank top to her neck and her soft chocolaty riot of hair. The morning sunlight added copper highlights it it. He followed them with his fingers. It was beautiful.

The same pattern repeated itself for a couple more nights. After Lizzie would come back from whichever bar she went to with Maria and Charlotte, within a few minutes, Darcy would materialise at her door step. And they would spent the night together. She dreaded and waited him in equal measures. She had to admit she slept exceptionally well in his arms. She supposed he did too, judging by his very peaceful expression when she woke up face to face with him that morning, her arm around his waist. The situation was frustrating. And strange. They never talked, and things never went beyond cuddling. His hands never wandered near inappropriate territory, he didn't seem to want more. She, on the other hand, sure did. And she was angry with herself because of that. But how could anyone look at a world class mouth watering cake for days on and not want to eat it ? Wasn't she hot enough to tempt him ? Was she some kind of life size teddy bear ? She was not that hairy. At least, she hoped not. Maybe she should shave, just to be sure. Besides, he could have any woman he wanted, why come to her ? There surely were after each concert women, and some men too, just look at him, really, queuing somewhere for a chance to fuck him. He just needed to help himself. Several times a day, the thought of his huge hands on her sent shivers through her body. The thin clothes she wore in bed did nothing to hide the exquisite warmth of his hands. She seemed to be alive only on those parts of her body he touched. And she couldn't prevent a sigh when she thought back on the way he hummed when he held close her at night. Kissing him must be hot as hell. She bet his lips were soft. Maybe he was the kind of guy to bite the lower lip a little. She chastised herself for thinking about it. To say she was puzzled was an euphemism.

This kept on for a few days, and she never understood how Darcy avoided getting caught by anyone getting in or out of her bedroom. He was sneaky for such a tall guy. During the day, he acted like nothing happened. He wasn't friendlier or more of an asshole, that would be difficult anyway, he was already a heavyweight in his category. He kept staring at her with that look she couldn't read into. As for Lizzie, she wasn't friendlier or more bitchy either. She simply regularly refrained from shaking him and screaming « What the actual fuck ? » to his face.