Should Have Stayed in the Shallows
Like the birth of Christ, Buddha discovering the eightfold path, and the invention of Dance Dance Revolution – another miracle was about to occur.
Because if it wasn't for that pesky guaranteed prison stay (and the cellmate assignment next to some lonely Big Bertha) for committing murder one, Will Darcy would be a dead man.
Beaten. Shot. Stabbed. Strangled. Drowned.
Darcy had no idea how close he'd come to losing the gift of life; instead of letting out some sort of warrior cry and coming at him with a battle axe, Lizzie stood very quietly and looked very puzzled.
He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and nervously brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. He half expected to hear a snake rattle. "Ms. Bennet…?"
There was a low chuckle. "You've got some nerve, buddy."
"Excuse me?"
"You act as if you've just offered me the Holy Grail. I'm supposed to what, Mr. Darcy? Fall to the ground and kiss your feet? Thank god for whatever ass backwards neanderthal sense of obligation you seem to possess?" she snickered nastily. "Thanks for trying to make an 'honest' woman outta me, but this isn't 1956 and my 'Pa' doesn't even own a shotgun."
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and his forefinger in an attempt to make the screaming in his head stop. It didn't work, but it hey – it was worth a shot. "While I'm sure, Ms. Bennet, that you're 'every woman', my offer has little to do with your honor or my 'ass backwards sense of obligation' as you put it. Like I said before, this is a business arrangement in the strictest sense."
He didn't think it was possible, but her eyes grew even darker and for a moment Darcy worried his head might explode.
With a sigh he said, "Now, I don't close many business deals on front porches so…"
"If I let you in," Lizzie began abruptly, "I reserve the right to kick you out if you as so much utter a syllable I don't like." She paused. "I also reserve the right to break your kneecaps."
"Fair enough."
It was a position no man wanted to be in – cornered on both sides by two extremely pissed off women.
The blonde one who'd waltzed into the living room muttering something about whether Colin Firth would go better with mint chocolate chip than Hugh Grant had stopped dead in her lovely tracks at the sight of him. The overwhelming sense of protection and the familial resemblance told him this must be the sister.
Great, family. Really, if he didn't feel like a rotten bastard before, having this girl who looked liked the sort that went around buying hobos McDonald's and saving trees glaring at him certainly did the trick.
Then of course there was Lizzie, who'd been glaring at him since two o'clock that afternoon. At this point, Darcy figured he should get used to the glaring from the fiery redhead but there was something about her eyes. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, he just knew he never wanted to see those eyes this angry at him ever again.
Darcy cleared his throat and readied himself to speak, putting a stop to any and all thoughts on Ms. Bennet's eyes. After all, they're what got him into this mess in the first place. "In between the time you slapped me and the trip over here…"
"You slapped him?" Jane interjected suddenly, turning her attention to her sister.
"Hard," Lizzie answered.
"Outstanding," Jane said proudly.
Darcy grunted, "I've had a lot of time to think and weigh options, and I've come up with an idea."
"That requires my participation in the sham of all shams," Lizzie grumbled.
"Yes it does," he stated frankly with a nod of his head. "You see, Lizzie, before you stormed into my office and ruined my carpet this afternoon, I had been trapped in a board meeting which I was the subject of. Apparently my behavior lately has been not so great for my family's image and I was asked to straighten up my act."
"Gotta love irony."
"Needless to say, a child from a one night stand isn't going to make my investors do cartwheels of joy," Darcy finished with a sigh.
Lizzie stared at him incredulously. "And you expect me to marry you just to save your ass from a PR nightmare?!"
"Twenty months is all I'm asking for, Lizzie. Long enough to make it look legit. A significant trust fund will be set up for the child, you'll both be taken care of for the rest of your lives."
Lizzie and Jane sat in stunned silence and exchanged the exact same stunned look.
"Give me twenty months of your time, Lizzie, and you'll never have to see me again."
Author's Note: This was shorter than I would've liked and well…a lot crappier than I would've liked, but my quarter just started at school and I have work kicking my ass as well and I just wanted to get some newness out there for you guys.
(Shrug) Oh well, hope you enjoyed anyway.