Something short and sweet to tie you over until the next full update.

In the Morning and Amazing

5 Very Good Reasons Why I Should Not Roll Over

By Will Darcy

1) I will puke.

2) Puking is not a possibility; it's a fact.

3) Mrs. Bennet wouldn't enjoy washing puke stained sheets.

4) The pizza/orange juice taste.

5) See the above.

Darcy lay very still, afraid to even breathe. The dangerous churning in his stomach combined with the rush of saliva in his mouth made him incredibly nervous; it was the sort of nervous that came with silent prayers to god to stave off the sickness and the promise of never drinking again (the ones that rarely work). Daringly, he took a deep breath and was pleasantly surprised to find his nostrils filled with the scent of…strawberries?

He cracked an eye open and was faced with a mess of red hair. Lizzie was comfortably curled up against his stomach, sleeping soundly, while his arm was draped lazily over her waist.

The situation made him smile, which was apparently more movement than his stomach could handle, because in an instant his cheeks puffed out and he was forced to whip around and lean off the edge of the bed.

Good thing the floor was of the non-carpeted, hardwood variety.

On his return trip to the kitchen, vomit soaked paper towels in hand, Darcy found Mr. Bennet quietly sipping coffee at the breakfast table. Nodding in Sean's direction, he quickly tossed the evidence of his sick in the trash.

"How're ya feeling?" Sean asked amusement evident in his voice.

"Like total shit," Darcy told him as he reached for the pot of coffee.

"Good, means you had fun," he said smiling and added with a shake of his head, "Uh-uh, put that down and grab one of those beers out of the fridge, mate; best thing for a hangover is a little more alcohol."

Reluctantly, Darcy did as told before pulling out a chair of his own. He quirked a brow, "Are you sure? I've already swore I'd never drink again – kinda sad to break a promise five minutes later."

Sean chuckled, "He'll forgive you, it's in his nature; and who knows better about these sort things than an Irishman?"

Popping the top on the can of Budweiser, Darcy smirked. "Isn't that a stereotype?"

He nodded, "One that several members of my family are eager to prove true."

An awkward silence fell between the two and strangely, Fitzwilliam Darcy, the undisputed king of awkward silences, found, himself eager to get rid of it. Furiously wracking his pounding head, he blurted the first thing that came to mind, "So, what was Lizzie like as a child?"

Sean smiled to himself. "A little terror in the best sense," he said fondly. "Jane was so sweet and well-behaved that Frannie and I stupidly believed Lizzie would be the same way; Lizard was always finding new ways to get into trouble."

"Lizard?" Darcy grinned.

"Use that nickname cautiously, boy; very few of us can get away with it," Sean snickered. He began, taking a drink from the mug in his hands, "I distinctly remember her going through a 'clothing optional' phase at around five years old. It horrified her mother, but made dinner parties infinitely more enjoyable. There was also a time when we were only allowed to call her 'Donatello'…"

"She liked art at that young of an age?"

"No," he chortled, "she liked the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

"Oh," Darcy smiled.

"Watching my Lizzie grow up was terribly fun, but as much as I miss having that little girl running around, I think I enjoy the adult she's become even more. When you're a parent, there's an odd transition from having a child nipping at your heels, to having a friend who happens to share half of your genetic makeup. Believe, me, it's a bit daunting when your kid goes from asking to play horsey on your knee, to betting she can drink you under the table."

That got a laugh. "Does she really?"

A smile, "Aye, she tries, bless her. It's an ongoing bet between the two of us." Sean paused, a wistful look on his face. "Needless to say, I was a wee bit surprised last night when she didn't challenge me – or touch a drop of alcohol."

Unluckily, Darcy was in mid swallow when Sean spoke that last sentence; the poor boy choked, inhaling beer up his nose. Swiftly climbing to his feet, Sean patted him on the back.

When he had his bearings back, Darcy arose a bit unsteadily. "I, uh, should really go and take care of this dead cat taste in my mouth."

"Right."

"Thanks for the tip about the beer; I feel a lot better now."

"I didn't expect to see you up so early," Lizzie cheerily greeted when Darcy stepped into the bedroom. "Any particular reason why my room smells like Pine-Sol?"

He pulled a face. "Be glad that's the smell you woke up to."

As she laughed, Darcy attempted to push the thoughts of how good she looked lying lazily in bed in his button up shirt to the far corners of his mind, and crawled up beside her with a sigh. He most definitely wasn't ready to go there.

"Any sign of Charlie and Jane?"

"No," he shook his head, "just your father. I have an eerie feeling he was waiting up for me; he looked damn proud when he saw me with those cleaning supplies."

Lizzie snickered, "I told you he's a sadistic, old bastard."

"I found out some interesting things about you, Lizard," Darcy smiled, "or should I say 'Donatello'?"

Groaning loudly, she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, goddamn."

Laughing, he asked, "Which name do you prefer?"

"Whichever floats your boat, Fitzie."

He grimaced. "Okay, okay how about we put a moratorium on all embarrassing nicknames?"

"Deal." She giggled.

After hesitating for nearly an entire five minutes, Darcy finally said, "Lizzie, I owe you an apology. What happened in New Hampshire…I was stupid and angry with Georgiana. It still doesn't excuse the things I said, but my mouth likes to work independently of my brain, or so Charlie says, and I didn't mean to insult you." He ran a nervous hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "Also, I didn't forget about your doctors appointment – I mean, I did forget, momentarily, because I was in meeting after meeting that day…and I did call your work, but they told me you'd already gone, and I…I'm just a sorry sack of shit I guess."

Lizzie was quiet – too quiet, and Darcy's heart pounded loudly in his eardrums.

Suddenly, she extended her hand. "Truce?" she asked with a lopsided grin.

Completely relieved, he put his hand in hers. "Truce; oh," Darcy sprung to his feet, "I almost forgot. I've got one more thing to make up to you. I planned on doing this last night, but, you know…" he made a drinking motion and she sniggered.

Rounding the bed, he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Close your eyes." Lizzie gave him a look and he sighed in mock exasperation, "Please?"

When she complied with his wishes, he pulled his hands out once again and held up two fists in front of her. "You can open them now."

"Surprise, you can make a fist?" she asked sarcastically.

He shrugged, his reply equally as quick, "I thought you'd be impressed," he told her wryly. "But, no – really, pick one."

Lizzie blinked, unsurely. "Um…the left one?"

He cocked his head. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

She rolled her eyes. "The left one, smart ass."

Darcy's right hand immediately went back into his pocket and his left opened up to reveal a beautiful ring: a diamond set between two sapphires.

Lizzie audibly gasped at the sight, and Darcy, enjoying the look on her face, took the opportunity to get down on one knee.

"Elizabeth Bennet, will you begrudgingly marry me?" he asked unable to help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Breaking the stupor the sight of a Tiffany & Co. band temporarily put her in, Lizzie's face broke out in a huge grin and she finally answered, "I believe my name on the dotted line makes that a 'yes', Mr. Darcy."

Aw, they called a truce, they're getting along – we'll see how long that lasts.

Isn't it weird how puke always tastes like pizza and orange juice coming up? Or maybe that's just me…

Yes, Sean Bennet is as wise as you think he is.

One useless piece of information about this fic I have for you; the chapter titles from Fitzwilliam, It Was Really Nothing on are all song titles. I'm trying to keep that going till the very end. Google and download if you're curious and want some new tunes.

Someone asked me why Lizzie is unlicensed – well, it's because she really enjoys walking. Okay, that's bullshit, well, it's not bullshit that she enjoys walking, I just have an idea for a future scene involving her, Darcy, and some driving lessons.

I love you guys and your reviews, keep them coming.