Chapter Nine: The Big Mitt

"Come on, Lizzy! Are you so determined to think the worst of him? " Jane was saying a few days later over a post-work drink. "I can't believe that that is the only side to it."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. Now Jane as well? What was it about fucking Darcy that had literally everyone falling over themselves? Cyclops, Jane, all of them. Here she was, giving the evidence about how much of a prick he was and still no one wanted to believe it.

"I'm just repeating what George said," she pointed out. "He went against grifter code Jane! And worse, he did it to a friend, a friend who looked after his poor sister whilst he was out feeling sorry for himself!"

"George just told you all this did he?" Jane narrowed her eyes. "You barely know the bloke, Lizzy. He's a self-proclaimed short con artist, a twenty-eight-year-old bloke who we met while he was hanging out with sixteen-year-olds. Doesn't seem to me like the sort of guy you don't take without a pinch of salt…."

Lizzy huffed angrily, now keen to change the subject. She had arguments back but she didn't want to fall out with Jane. She seemed to be managing to offend her friends at every corner these days, and she wasn't keen to add Jane to the list. She'd patched things up with Charlotte, who was in a good mood anyway due to her win at the Jack Hammer. She and Cyclops had played until 6 in the morning before she emerged triumphant. Lizzy just about managed to feel pleased for her despite her own horrendous performance.

Mind you, the night hadn't been a waste. She'd stayed out late with George and Lydia, drinking, dancing and talking until the early hours. She liked George. He was a bit too flirtatious at times and had a bit too much self-confidence, but he was a nice bloke. She'd almost gone back to his place that night, he'd certainly dropped enough hints, but something had held her back. Besides, she'd been hammered. Hopefully she'd see him again soon though and who knows? Her invitation to Charlie's party had been dropped off and it came with a plus one. She'd texted George to ask him if he fancied it, and he had said he'd do his best to make it. Said he wasn't going to hide from his old friends.

Suddenly, she realised she and Jane weren't alone. A man and a woman sat down either side of them, wedging them against the window of the pub. The man was burly, shaved head and morning stubble. His suit was muted, not expensive, instantly forgettable. The woman was the opposite, colourful and memorable. Her dark eyes were pools you could get lost in, her mannerisms delicate but at the same time no-nonsense. Could see the hint of a tattoo crawling up her neck above her collar. These two weren't ordinary people.

Lizzy could smell bacon. Could smell police.

"We were just leaving," she said rising, before the woman's hand was on her shoulder, pushing her back down.

"Easy there, Miss Walker. Or is it Bennet?" the woman asked with a chuckle. Lizzy detected a slight accent. Southern European most likely.

"Never heard of her," Lizzy replied, flashing a glance at Jane, who looked as composed as ever.

"Do we always have to go through this tiresome routine?" the woman sighed. "Every bloody time it's the same. 'What's your name?', 'no comment', etcetera etcetera. It's just so fucking boring."

"What can we do for you today, officers?" Jane asked sweetly, directing her speech towards the man in an attempt to charm him. The man just snorted. Obviously it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Just a friendly chat, Miss Morgan," the woman smiled. It was more predatory than friendly. "I'm Detective Inspector Zampino and this is Detective Constable Hamilton."

Both showed their badges.

"Zampino? That Italian?" Lizzy asked.

"Well obviously. God the English can be stupid." Zampino sneered a little.

"Tell me about it." Hamilton cut in, his Scottish brogue as pronounced as Lizzy assumed it would have been when he was a child.

"How exotic," Jane smiled broadly, ignoring them. "Whereabouts in Italy are you from?"

"Unsurprisingly, Miss Morgan, that is none of your business."

"Don't see many foreigners in the MET…" Lizzy trailed off.

"Centuries of unity and they still see the Scottish as foreigners," Zampino teased her partner. "With that kind of attitude, you wonder how the independence vote was lost.."

"We'll get them next time." Hamilton shrugged.

"I meant…" Lizzy began before she was cut off sharply by Zampino.

"I know what you meant. Besides, who said I was with the MET?"

"Just assumed."

"Well, don't. So, Lizzy and Jane Bennet, how goes the short con life?"

Lizzy and Jane stayed quiet. There was something off about this. This wasn't an ordinary shake-down, they'd had enough 'conversations' of that kind to know when it was taking place. This wasn't of that kind.

"Oh, don't be so coy!" Zampino laughed, she was clearly the talker. "Come on, give me all the details! How many old women have you robbed out of their pensions? How many desperate men have you worked the badger on? How many lives have you ruined this week?"

The words had started faux-friendly but had quickly descended into accusatory. Coppers were like this, it was black and white for them. They were the good guys and Lizzy and Jane were the bad.

"We are not thieves," Lizzy said, doing the best she could to remain calm. It was an effort. She always struggled to keep her cool with these types of police. It was an attitude that wasn't good for her, it inevitably landed her in more trouble, but she couldn't help it. These people had no idea, no idea at all.

"Oh, we know exactly what you are…" Hamilton said, coldly.

"You have no fucking clue what or who we are, mate," Lizzy sneered back, feeling the anger rise through her. "You don't know anything. I'm a product of my environment, a product of our society, where the rich grow richer and the poor grow poorer. I'm just readdressing the balance, whereas you…."

Zampino laughed loudly.

"Bravo," she clapped before her eyes turned to steel. "But come on Lizzy, surely you know you're nothing but scum, dirt on the bottom of my shoe? Parasites who leech off the weakness of others, cockroaches who use your oh-so-tragic life stories to justify what you do. Tell me, do you imagine yourselves as some kind of romantic outlaws, living outside of normality, outside of the law? I hate to break it to you girls, but you ain't that special, it's the same all over the world. The same boring fucking justifications and fantasies. You wanted to know where I grew up. Naples, what do they call it, Hamilton?"

"Flower of paradise."

"Yes, yes. Flower of fucking paradise. That's what all the poets call it, that's what's on the tourist brochures. You know what we call it? Gomorrah. A place of such poverty and violence that it's compared to hell itself. I grew up with nothing in Secondigliano, side by side with the Camorra foot soldiers. Boys who became men by killing, girls who became women by marrying those killers and giving birth to killers of their own. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Hamilton here grew up in Govanhill, Glasgow, one of the most deprived areas of your awful island. Repeat, repeat, repeat. How many times have we heard the same shit, Hamilton? How many times have we had someone in the box who says, 'It's where I come from,' 'It's just what we do'? Always thinking it's an excuse. It's not though, is it? Because us, we pay our taxes, we look after our families, we abide by the law. We go to work and do our jobs and do them well. We left our past behind and we fucking grew up. When are you two going to do the same?"

Silence followed her speech for a while before Lizzy broke it.

"I have a question," she leaned closer to Zampino, smirking. "Do you practice that pretentious speech in the mirror every night?"

"Repeat, repeat, repeat…." Hamilton sighed.

"Quite," Zampino's eyes flashed. "Always the 'fuck you', isn't that right Lizzy?"

"Is there a charge here, Detective?" Jane asked quickly, could obviously sense that Lizzy may lose her cool with this woman.

"As I said, friendly chat."

"We don't have chats with police without our lawyers present," Jane said.

"You know how guilty that makes you sound right?" Hamilton chuckled. "This a conversation that is going to happen I'm afraid, whether you like it or not."

"Just get to the fucking point!" Lizzy raised her voice.

"As you wish," Zampino smiled that smile. "Hamilton?"

Hamilton reached into his bag and pulled out four photographs, laying them on the table. They were grainy, clearly surveillance.

"Some new friends of yours," Zampino stated, gesturing to the three familiar photographs and the not so familiar one. "Charles and Caroline Bouzid, known otherwise as Charlie and Caro Bingley. Richard 'The Colonel' Fitzwilliam. And finally, the man himself, William 'Picasso' Darcy."

"Picasso…" Lizzy snorted under her breath.

So, this was what it was about then.

"Sorry officers, I haven't heard of any of them." Jane smiled.

"Me neither," Lizzy smirked.

"Funny that," Hamilton narrowed his eyes, producing more photographs and laying them out. "So, that's not you in the picture having lunch with Bingley then, Jane?"

"Oh, that Charlie…" Jane pretended to recollect.

"Yes, that Charlie," Zampino cut in. "Will Darcy's roper and occasional inside man, suspected on charges of fraud, deception and money laundering in six countries. Quite the, um, what's the term…. 'bad boy' you've snagged, Jane."

Jane stayed silent, only a brief flash in her eyes gave away the discomfort she was feeling.

"Silence is golden…" Hamilton sang under his breath, causing Zampino to laugh.

"So, what is this?" Lizzy asked, keen to get away from this situation as soon as possible. It had the potential to turn bad. "You want us to grass or something? Cos I can tell you now, it ain't gonna happen. Besides, we barely know them. And we haven't even met this 'Colonel' character."

"Richard Fitzwilliam's not in town then?" Zampino smiled, and Lizzy quickly realised she'd already given something away. Hamilton pulled out a notebook and began scribbling. Good coppers drew you in, waited and waited for you to make a mistake. They were clearly good coppers. Lizzy could have hit herself. Not because what she'd imparted was of particular importance, not because she cared about Darcy and his crew. No, she cared because she should know better than to get into conversations with police.

"Now listen," Zampino leant into them. "I don't give a fuck about you, I'm not interested in how you make a living or how you go about doing it. What I am interested in is what a bunch of small-time grifters are doing hanging out at the Netherfield penthouse. Must be a good story behind that…."

"We met them at a party," Jane revealed. Lizzy glanced at her quickly in surprise before masking it. What was she doing talking to these people? "That's it. We got on, we've hung out a bit since. No story, no mystery, nothing to it really."

"So you're not angling to be recruited by him?" Hamilton narrowed his eyes. "We know the Bingleys are attempting to set up roots in the city, we know they are actively attempting to recruit grifters for dishonest purposes."

"I'd know nothing about that. As Lizzy said, we barely know them, I have no idea how they make a living."

"What about Will Darcy then," Zampino shot back quickly. "Tell me, is he as good-looking in the flesh as he is in the photographs?"

Hamilton rolled his eyes.

"The man's a prick." Lizzy couldn't help but blurt out.

"Is that so?" Zampino leant back, smirking. "The beautiful ones always are, aren't they? Mind you, Darcy is something of a legend amongst our peers you know. Picasso himself. They say he can't be caught, say he's too good. Always three steps ahead of anyone who comes within a mile of him. And just when you think you've got him, bam! It turns out you were looking in the wrong direction the whole time and away he slips. Whenever they talk about him with such reverence I always think, God, what utter fucking bullshit. Everyone can be caught, everyone can be brought down. But, hey, that's not my problem. I don't really give a shit about Will Darcy. What I do give a shit about is this city and the people who live in it…"

"Look," Jane sighed in exasperation. "We really can't help you with any of this. You know we're not going to grass, we don't have any information anyway. So, can we go now?"

Zampino smiled at them both.

"Tell Charlie Bingley that London is off limits. He will not be setting up a new crew here on my watch. If he ignores this warning, well, I'll rain fucking fire down on him, understand? And when you've done that my advice is to stay as far away from those four as possible."

Zampino stood up.

"You wanted to be in the big leagues, ladies. This is how it looks."

With that and one last smirk, Zampino and Hamilton swept out the bar.

Lizzy and Jane looked at each other.

"What the hell have we got ourselves into, Jane?" Lizzy asked, gesturing towards the bar for another drink. They needed it….

"KITTY! LYDIA! We're going in ten minutes, darlings!"

Lizzy tuned out of Frances' ramblings as her 'mother' rushed around in an attempt to get everyone ready for Charlie's shindig. She could do without this. Her mood was already worsened by the fact George had texted her his apologies, saying he couldn't make it tonight. Fucker was a flaky one, no doubt about it.

She was also uneasy with the fact that they were still going tonight at all. Jane had passed on Zampino's warning to Charlie, who she said just laughed it off, claiming this happened all the time and that he was sorry she got dragged into it. However, if Lizzy knew Darcy at all, surely he wouldn't share the same opinion. The man was meticulous and news such as this would worry him. But they were still here, still throwing parties, still mixing with the London grifter set. And the Bennets were part of that. But Lizzy felt that something was off. The whole conversation in the bar with the two detectives hadn't been right, they had been digging for something. Why approach them in the first place? Why not go straight to Bingley himself? It wasn't like he was difficult to find, they knew where he was staying. No, something smelt funny….

"Elizabeth, may I just say how beautiful you look tonight." Billy Collins simpered, sitting down next to her, a little too close for comfort if truth be told.

"Thanks, Billy," Lizzy attempted to smile, feeling Frances' eyes on her. "You look rather dashing yourself."

Ok, that was a total lie and she had a hard time keeping a straight face. Billy was wearing a ridiculous white tuxedo that was slightly too big for him and already showed a few stains. He also had that bloody briefcase chained to his wrist again. What a ridiculous human being he was. How the fuck had he become so successful?

Lizzy, on the other hand, was very pleased with how she'd scrubbed up tonight. Had gone against her preachings and decided to make a little more effort with her clothes and look. She was wearing an elegant plain black dress that clung to her in the right places and felt pretty good, it was nice to dress up occasionally. Wasn't going to make a habit of it though.

"I'm looking forward to the game tonight," Collins droned on. "It's been a while since I've played, but I hope to acquit myself well. And, hey, I'll go easy on you!"

Lizzy played along and laughed, hating herself for it. But needs must. She had been surprised when Collins had announced his intention to play, saying Charlie had personally visited him when he was working to request it. Seemed a bit strange to Lizzy, Charlie going to all that effort, but what did she know? Remembered Charlotte's words, 'you know what a big deal that guy is right'.

As much as she loved Jane, she couldn't help the brief flash of annoyance when she emerged looking like a fucking Vogue model. She really was beautiful, Lizzy thought, her annoyance fading.

"How do I look?" Jane asked, worriedly. From anyone else it would sound like compliment digging, how could anyone be so fucking perfect and not know it? But from Jane it was sincere, deep down she was one of the most insecure people Lizzy knew, and she knew a lot of troubled people.

"Incredible, Jane," Lizzy hugged her friend. "Seriously, you look amazing. Charlie's not going to be able to concentrate on his cards at all, trust me."

Jane laughed lightly and sat down, checking her phone. Tommo walked in the room, his suit shabby and his hair wild. He grinned at Lizzy.

"Lizzy, look at you then!" he exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever seen you make this much effort. What's going on, someone there you're looking to impress? Is it that George fella Lydia's been droning on about?"

"Nah, he's not coming." Lizzy replied.

"Someone else then perhaps?" Tommo's eyes were alight with gentle mocking. "Trying to steal Charlie away from poor Jane here? Or maybe it's young Billy you've got your eye on!"

Lizzy gave him a withering stare, to which he just chuckled. He was thoroughly enjoying winding her up. Billy puffed himself up next to her. Oh, God. Tommo wasn't finished though.

"Maybe, just maybe, it's another gentleman. One you profess to hate so much. You do seem to go on about him a lot, dear….."

"Fuck off Tommo, you twat!" Lizzy fired at him.

"The lady protests too much." he smirked, before disappearing again, off to find Frances no doubt.

Lizzy sat back and crossed her arms. Bloody Tommo. The worst thing was, she suddenly realised he may have a point. Was she doing this, dressing up like Jane, for Darcy and Caroline? Was she subconsciously trying to prove something to them? Trying to spite them for words spoken and veiled insults hurled? What if she was? What did that make her?

Her crisis of self worth was interrupted by Lydia and Kitty bursting into the room. They looked good. Lydia looked about five years older than she was and her dress was bordering on the obscene. Lizzy laughed inwardly. Now here was someone who truly didn't give a fuck, she thought. Kitty was more understated, she'd always been the quiet one, always in Lydia's shadow. She was a funny girl. If she was honest, Lizzy could admit that she didn't know her at all, not really. She was more like Jane, closed off, but to an even further extent. She gave the outward appearance of being dominated by Lydia, always going where she went, always doing what she did. However, one thing Lizzy knew was that there was more to it. It was Kitty who was the natural grifter of the two, she was the one who had that grift sense, as it was known. Lydia got by on boldness and brashness, but Kitty was the intelligent one, Lydia would be lost without her.

"You look nice, Kitty." Lizzy made the effort.

"Thanks, sis, you too," Kitty replied shyly.

"Um, hello?" Lydia waved, gesturing down over her body. "What about me, Lizzy? You know I look fucking hot!"

"You look like you take your top off for money," Lizzy smirked back.

"Well, it depends how much money we're talking!" Lydia laughed loudly.

"Lydia…" Jane warned.

"Relax, I was kidding. Maybe. Anyway, what's up Billy boy? Don't you and Lizzy look quite the couple!"

Billy smiled nervously, Lizzy gave Lydia the finger when he wasn't looking. Just as Lydia was about to respond, Frances strode into the room.

"Oh, my girls! Don't you all look incredible! Even you, Lizzy, for a change!"

"I take my lead from you, Frances," Lizzy said sarcastically, not picked up on by the woman in question.

"Of course you do, dear! Now where's that blasted father of yours? The Bennet's at the Netherfield! I've been waiting so long for this, girls…."

"Bennet's! Lovely to see you all tonight! And Mr Collins as well!"

They were greeted effusively by Charlie at the door and given a glass of champagne straight off the bat. Charlie shook Billy's hand warmly, she couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the briefcase swinging between them as they shook. Charlie didn't seem to notice, he couldn't take his eyes off Jane as usual. It really was a little sickening Lizzy thought as the introductions were completed.

"Yes, Caro's running a little late," Charlie was saying. "Her and Louisa went out shopping this afternoon and they are yet to return. Knowing them, they've probably spent the GDP of a small nation by now…."

"I don't doubt it." Lizzy laughed. No doubt Caroline would come back laden with Gucci and Versace.

"You know my sister so well already, Lizzy," Charlie chuckled. "Anyway, if you'd all like to make your way into the lounge, there's cocktails and some food. I meant for this to be a small thing, but it appears Caro has invited half the city. You should have seen the look on poor Darcy's face, the antisocial bugger! Jane, Lizzy, can I have a quick word?"

Tommo, Frances and the girls moved away into the throng, leaving Jane and Lizzy.

"I'd just like to apologise for the other day, that business with the police," he began, running a hand through his afro. "Unfortunately it comes with the territory these days. We got too big too fast. But it's not going to put us off! I may well return to Manchester next week to tie up some business, but Caro and I will be back before the month is out, and then the games truly begin! Keep it quiet, but I think I may have already found our first score…."

"You've got a crew together?" Lizzy asked, wondering if perhaps Jane was in the frame.

"I have the skeleton of one, yes," Charlie nodded. "Darcy's connections have paid off and of course, I've been introduced to a number of promising grifters myself. I can't rely solely on Will forever. It still seems a little strange doing this without him, but I'm looking forward to the new challenges and the new people."

He was eyeing Jane as he said this, and Lizzy felt that familiar mixture of pride and a hint of jealousy. In the darker reaches of her mind, she was thinking, why Jane? Lizzy was the one who had the ambition, who wanted more than anything to play the long con. Jane had never really expressed any desire to. Yet here she was, with the opportunity of a lifetime, and Lizzy was right where she started, at the bottom of the pile. Of course she thought these things, she was a human being. And she was a grifter, and in the end grifters were the most selfish people of all. But she was also proud of her friend and knew that she did deserve it. Could never forget that Jane was the one who saved her life, it was her turn.

"Well, I wish you all the best with it," Lizzy smiled. "And I'm sure we'll be running into each other a fair bit once you return."

"Of course," Charlie nodded, still looking at Jane. "Do you want to head on in? Unfortunately, I have to wait here and greet all our guests, I'd much rather stay with you two, but alas I am too polite."

"Ok," Jane blushed. It was cute that she still did that around him, Lizzy thought. "I'll…we'll see you in a little while then?"

"Yes, yes!" Charlie responded enthusiastically. "Lizzy, the game starts in around half an hour, basic hold 'em rules with a twist, don't want the game to go on all night after all."

He kissed Jane's hand and they left him beaming, entering the main space of the suite. No expense had been spared, a cocktail bar, waiters with trays of food and champagne, a fucking ice sculpture in the middle of the room. Oh to have money, Lizzy thought.

She passed the time pleasantly enough, there were a fair few people here she knew and best of all Charlotte was here and on top form, sarcastically quipping her way around the room as Lizzy laughed along or joined in. Even Frances wasn't being too awful yet, though that would probably change once the drinks started flowing. She spied Denny in the corner talking to Lydia and decided to ask him about George.

"Hey, Denny," she approached him. "You in the game tonight?"

"God no," Denny laughed. "After my performance at the Jack Hammer? No, no, I'm just here for the free booze!"

"Aren't we all," Lydia smirked.

"You ever heard the phrase 'bad dress rehearsal' Denny? It's what I'm clinging to," Lizzy joked before turning serious. "And be careful, young lady. This isn't the time or place to get absolutely wasted."

"Like I'm going to listen to your lectures on boozing," Lydia grinned. "I distinctly remember how wrecked you were the other night, sis! All that grinding on George was pretty cringe…."

"Shut up Lyds. Where is he tonight, Denny? He was supposed to come."

"Oh, he said something about a job down south but to be honest I'm pretty sure he didn't have any intention of coming here. Rumour has it, him and this lot have some sort of history. No idea, but he doesn't like to talk about it."

Funny that, he hadn't seemed to mind talking about it to her in great detail. And they barely knew each other. Went back to Jane's words the other day about taking him with a pinch of salt….

Then she spied Darcy staring at her from across the room and any doubts about George's character evaporated. He looked away quickly, as if embarrassed about having been caught looking. She lingered on him for a moment, couldn't help but appreciate how he looked in his understated tux. His hair was a little on the messy side, as if he'd been running his hand through it too much, but it was a welcome change from his normal straight as they come look. 'The beautiful ones always are', that's what Zampino had said when she'd called Darcy a prick. She was right.

"Who you eyefucking, Lizzy?" Charlotte appeared beside her as Lydia dragged Denny to the dance floor.

"No-one." Lizzy quickly looked down, but it was too late.

"Oh, no way!" Charlotte cried dramatically. "Darcy? The man does look good in a tux, but still."

"I was not eyefucking him. I was thinking of the best ways to kill him and get away with it."

"Of course," Charlotte smirked. "And what have you come up with?"

"Ice arrow," Lizzy smiled evilly. "Break it off that sculpture, put it in the crossbow, fire it, evidence melts away. I think I have the perfect murder, Charlotte."

"Ridiculous," Charlotte shook her head. "By the way, he's looking at you again. He does that quite a lot you know."

"Probably thinking along similar lines to me." Lizzy sighed.

"I think he might be thinking something quite different…" Charlotte trailed off. Before Lizzy could follow up, they were interrupted by Billy Collins who of course wanted to talk about Lady Catherine. She zoned out and nodded occasionally, thinking of where she could get a crossbow at this hour….

It was time for the main event to begin. They were led into a side room off from the main area where the table was set out. The dealer was dressed like Vegas and there were ten seats around the table, each with name cards. Lizzy took her seat opposite Collins, who himself was sat with his back to the door next to Darcy, who's expression was as serious as ever. Charlotte and her father were both playing, Lizzy was looking forward to seeing her friend beat her Dad. It would be pretty funny. Charlie was there also, Jane was with him, although she was not getting involved. The rest of the table was made up of Hurst, a woman with long red hair who introduced herself as Cassie Black, and a man and woman, obviously married, Marie and Davey. Marie was so French it was bordering on parody, whereas her husband was as cockney as they come.

"Ok, good we're all here!" Charlie grinned at the occupants of the room. "Now remember everyone, this is a friendly game. No fighting, yes, I'm looking at you Cassie! Is everyone ready? Billy, you ok?"

"Yes, yes," he sweated, holding onto his hand, clearly in discomfort. "It's just this briefcase giving the wrist a bit of grief."

"Well old sport, give it here and I'll have it locked in the safe for you. You can't go playing poker with that thing hanging from the table! Your wrist will snap after three hands!"

"Oh no, I never let it out of my sight, see," Billy shook his head, seriously. "Important business on there for mine and Lady Catherine De Bourgh's eyes only. Can't have anyone poking around it."

"How about you cuff it to the chair then?" Darcy remarked lazily, his tone bored and annoyed.

"Splendid idea, Darcy!" Charlie said, way too enthusiastically. Lizzy had the feeling the two friends were mocking Billy somewhat.

"I suppose it could work." Billy agreed, inspecting the chair.

"Darcy, give the bloke a hand would you?" Charlie admonished his friend, Billy was clearly in a lot of discomfort.

"Of course." Darcy sighed out, helping Billy unlock it and crouching down to cuff it to the oak.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Billy wheezed out. "The great lady herself often talks about you with such fondness, and the beautiful Anne of course. If there's one man to trust with such an important thing, it is undoubtedly you!"

"Catherine is a great woman," Darcy drew back up, sitting back down on his chair. "And Anne is a good friend of mine."

"A friend, or something more, good man?" Billy crowed, Darcy's expression flashing with anger for the briefest of seconds.

"We will see." Darcy attempted to shut the conversation down.

"I know it is her ladyship's greatest wish to see the two of you finally…."

"Excellent!" Charlie interrupted, raising his voice above Billy's, Darcy shooting him a grateful look. "Ok then, let's begin!"

Five women, five men. One winner.

The rules were explained and they began, Jane departing with a kiss on the cheek for Charlie and a good luck.

Judas.

Lizzy took a while to get going. This was a different class of game to the one at the Jack Hammer. In the initial stages, she was plagued by confidence issues. If she couldn't even last two hours in the back room of a pub, how the hell was she going to come out of this one with any dignity? She was bleeding chips for a while until a lucky hand gave her the boost she needed and she began to claw back. It was Billy who was in the most trouble now. Unsurprisingly, he'd proved himself inept at the game, his face was alight with tells and he was down to bare bones. The next hand was dealt and the blinds thrown in. Billy was panicking, he knew he had to do something, so he pushed it. For a minute, it seemed he would get away with it and somehow survive another half hour at least, as everyone folded around him. However, one man was still left with him come the end.

Darcy.

Charlie had mentioned before about Darcy being something of a poker expert, and Lizzy was beginning to see that it was no exaggeration. He was current chip leader, had outfoxed Charlotte early on with a smart bluff and currently appeared to be untouchable. His marble demeanour stood him in good stead, he was impossible to read. Collins didn't stand a chance, or so she thought.

Billy went all in, and then something strange happened. It was so obvious that Collins was bluffing, everybody around the table knew it. Even if he got lucky on the river and somehow won, it would do little harm to Darcy's chip pile. Surely he was going to take him out.

But then, after a moment of deliberation, Darcy threw down his cards face down and folded.

Lizzy was stunned. Darcy had proven himself the best player here, and yet for some reason, he'd made one of the least justifiable folds of the evening. Billy clapped his hands and raked in a considerable pile of chips. Charlotte shot her a quizzical raise of the eyebrows. It wasn't just her who found the whole thing a little off then. Maybe Darcy just had a bad hand or had lost concentration. It happened to everyone at some point.

Before she could follow up on her thoughts, there was a small crash and Caroline appeared, struggling through the door, her arms full of shopping bags. Her dark complexion was flushed and her hair was less immaculate than usual.

"Charlie, I'm so sorry I'm late!" she breathed out dramatically. "Me and Louisa lost track of time. Where is the bloody service in here as well? I had to carry these bags up all by myself and Louisa's having to park the car! Can you believe that!"

Caroline moved into the room, positioning herself standing between Darcy and Billy, dropping her bags, and leaning a hand on Darcy's shoulder, catching her breath. Lizzy caught his eye and it was all she could do not to laugh at his apparent discomfort. Shot him a smirk and he looked away quickly.

"The staff are attending to the party, Caro," Charlie said. "You know, the one you insisted on having, organised, and then promptly forgot to show up to."

"Well, I'm here now. Darcy, be a darling and help me with these, will you? I won't get through all the people on my own."

"We're in the middle of a game, Caro!" Hurst spoke up, his words already slurring. "Breaks not due for another half hour."

"It's fine, deal me out of the next hand," Darcy waved him off, throwing in his blind and bending down to pick up the bags from next to him. There were so many of them, Lizzy laughed to herself. Charlie was wrong, Caroline had probably spent the GDP of America. She disappeared with a wave and they continued on, Lizzy managed to win the next hand, beating Charlie's two pair with a straight.

Darcy returned for the next hand and they continued on for a few more minutes before they were interrupted again by a familiar sight, only this time it was Louisa laden with shopping bags. This was quickly descending into a farce.

"Took me a bloody age to park the car," Louisa said. "Sorry to interrupt but I need the safe key from my husband here."

Hurst grunted and threw her the key across the table, Darcy catching it, but not before Louisa had dropped her bags on the floor in anticipation of the catch. God, what a bastard of a husband, Lizzy thought. Drunk, embarrassing, all in all a dickhead. She wanted to beat him almost as much as she wanted to beat Darcy.

Not quite as much though.

The man in question yet again found himself helping, only this time Louisa waved him off and quickly made her escape.

"Do me a favour, Tim my boy, and lock the door." Charlie chuckled at the dealer, who did as asked. No more interruptions would be had.

The evening progressed, and the soldiers began to fall. First to go was William Lucas much to Charlotte's delight. However that joy was short lived as it wasn't long before she exited herself, the hand after cockney Davey had. She looked furious, she was better than that. The nerves had got to her and Darcy and Hurst had decimated her chip pile on a far too regular basis. Billy stumbled on for a while, but Lizzy took great pleasure in taking him out herself, calling his bluff like Darcy should have done earlier. All of a sudden, Lizzy was beginning to believe she was in with a real shout of coming out of this triumphant. Only Hurst and Darcy were ahead of her. After the second break, Charlie came back distracted, he had spent the entire fifteen minute interval talking to Jane, and there was clearly only one place he wanted to be, and it wasn't at the table. French Marie took him out although it took little effort. Ten had become five, Lizzy, Cassie, Marie, Hurst and Darcy. Hurst had surprised her so much that she was now beginning to wonder if the whole drunkard thing was all an act. He was sharp, almost in Darcy's league and she couldn't get a read on him.

However, Lizzy thought she may have picked up on Marie's tell early on, a throat slash and a hair flick, a classic liars gesture. She checked it out again when given the first opportunity, lost the hand on the river but it was worth it. Marie had had nothing until the final card was turned and had been bluffing the entire hand, Lizzy spied the body language tell. She'd only lost a few hundred and now she had Marie's number. It took a while for the chance to present itself, as Darcy seemed to lose patience and went on an offensive blitz. He had enough chips to bully everyone off the table and he began to do so, Cassie was his first victim, followed by an epic showdown with Hurst. Lizzy and the rest had folded on the flop, but neither Darcy or Hurst was backing down from it. Darcy went all in as the river was turned and Hurst called immediately, slapping his cards face up on the table. Straight, nine to King. Darcy looked at them and showed no emotion, turning his cards over to reveal… oh for fuck sake, a flush. Hurst looked stunned for a moment, before recovering, laughing loudly and giving Darcy a friendly hug before disappearing. He had played well, just not well enough.

It left Lizzy with a problem. Now, with only three left, she had a big pile of chips, but she was well behind Darcy. She needed to be the one to take out Marie, she couldn't let Darcy take any more money. If he did, then she had almost zero chance of coming out on top as he could just wait and wait for her pile to slowly diminish, allowing him the luxury of picking and choosing his moment. He was too comfortable, had been the whole game. She had to unsettle him, had to plant a seed of doubt. God, she wanted this bad. To come this close and walk away with second place would be heartbreaking. She was immensely proud of how she'd played tonight, indeed she couldn't remember ever turning up to a poker game with this quality of field and doing so well, but it wasn't enough now. She needed this.

That's when the poker gods shined down on her.

The cards were nearly perfect, Ace of Hearts and King of Spades. She glanced at them, before looking up to Marie. Darcy instantly folded with a sigh, his first show of any expression. Maybe she was getting to him. She had no doubt that he'd also have picked up on Marie's tell, he was too good not to have. His sigh was one of frustration, he knew that Lizzy had seen it too and could be about to break the game wide open, setting the stage for the showdown she so desperately wanted. Lizzie called Marie's slight raise and waited for the flop. Ten of hearts, two of spades and jack of diamonds. Marie raised three thousand. It was a big bet, nearly half her chips. Lizzy pondered it. This was the moment, that pivotal point. Marie moved her hand across her throat. So she was bluffing, Lizzy nodded to herself. That may well be so, but still, right now Lizzy had nothing either. She needed a Queen to come up on the turn or the river and then she'd undoubtedly win the hand. However, it was a big risk, one that she normally wouldn't have taken. But she could just sense that this was the chance, she'd regret it if she didn't. So she called. On came the turn, four of diamonds. No use.

Marie went all in.

Lizzy knew what she was going to do when she felt Darcy's eyes on her. It went against every rule, she should just wait for the next opportunity. But what if Darcy got that opportunity first? No, it couldn't happen. Fuck it, she thought, she was owed some luck.

"Call."

Marie went white, Lizzy knew she had nothing then. Maybe she had a pair, but she doubted it.

The turn came.

Ace of spades.

Marie turned her cards over.

One pair. Fours.

Lizzy let out a sigh of relief.

After all that, she'd won on a high pair.

Marie exited gracefully with a smile. She looked reasonably pleased with herself, it had been a good showing.

But now there were two.

The main event, what it had all been building up to.

"Must we sit in such silence, Darcy?" Lizzy smirked slyly after enduring half an hour more of cat and mouse. "It makes it all so much more intense."

Darcy looked up from his cards, as if surprised at the address.

"Do you usually talk at this stage of a game, Elizabeth?" he asked. "In my experience, it is decidedly uncommon for one to do so considering the stakes are at the highest. However, I am willing to have any conversation you wish to engage in."

"I find it too odd to sit in complete silence when there are only three people in the room," she laughed. "It is somewhat awkward. But by all means, let's continue on in this vein. I understand that you are as antisocial as they come."

He surprised her by chuckling slightly at her words, before focusing back on his cards, raising a small amount.

"I don't like it either, you know," Lizzy remarked lightly, calling him at the same time. "All these parties and forced interaction. Someone asked me the other day if I liked anyone at all. It got me thinking about you actually. Perhaps we're not so different after all…"

"Did that wound you to admit?" Darcy said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "I think you do yourself a disservice Miss Bennet, you appear to be quite at ease in such settings. It's what enables you to do what you do for a living, I'm sure. Short con players have to have a certain likeability and a knack for social occasions. I cannot speak for my own character, but perhaps you are just seeing what you expect to see in me."

"Perhaps…." Lizzy trailed off, not giving his words any weight in her mind.

They were quiet for a while longer, playing out a few hands. Lizzy had clawed back to within touching distance, but there was still a ways to go. In a twist she hadn't seen coming, it was Darcy who spoke again first.

"So, how was the game at the Jack Hammer the other night?" he asked, a slight hesitancy in his voice. "I heard Cyclops put in a good performance…."

Lizzy almost rose to the jibe, but she knew this wasn't the time to throw all her good work away. She wasn't going to let him unsettle her with his mocking, no, she was going to turn it right back on him. It was a bit of a dick move, but needs must.

"Yes, he played well," she replied. "I was disappointed with my own performance, but the night wasn't a complete waste. Ran into an old friend of yours actually, George Wickham. The man's good company…."

The effect was immediate but brief, his hands shook slightly and his eyes flashed before he was composed again. He looked at her, appraisingly.

"George is good at making new friends," he replied carefully. "Whether he is able to keep them or not is a different matter entirely."

"Well, he's certainly been unlucky to lose your friendship, Darcy. I doubt he can ever recover from that." Lizzy kept her tone light, masking any bite that was meant.

"George Wickham is the most naturally gifted grifter I have ever met," Darcy looked down. "He could have had the world, but he is determined to throw every chance he is ever given away."

It hit her.

With that sentence, Lizzy achieved clarity, perhaps for the first time since she had met the man. Here he was, saying George should have been happy to be ripped off, happy to be a subordinate to the great 'Picasso' like Charlie and Caro were, bowing at his feet, hanging off his every word. Suddenly Lizzy didn't care anymore. She didn't care about this game, she'd wasted weeks thinking about this man, hating him, wanting to either beat him or perversely impress him. It was stupid. The man was a fucking arsehole and she didn't want to ever see him again, she wanted right now to leave and never look back. It had all been wasted time. Life was too short.

"I've spent a long time trying to figure you out, Darcy," she said coldly, laying her cards face down on the table.

"And what have you discovered?"

"I don't know," she said simply. "I really don't know at all. I hear such different accounts of you that it is impossible to know the truth. But anyway, it doesn't matter. Who you are, what you are, whatever. It's all just pointless, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that."

"I think I am. What say you then, Will? How about it, next hand, all in, fifty-fifty chance. Let's end this now and not look back. You in?"

Darcy looked at her, his expression unreadable as always.

"What will that achieve?" he asked slowly.

"We won't know until it's done. You up for it? Or are you too much of a pussy?"

"Ah, the goading tactics," he laughed quietly. "You think that's going to work on me, Miss Bennet? You think I haven't heard all of it before?"

"I'm sure you have, whether it's something to be proud of or not is a debatable matter."

He laughed again.

"If this is what you want to do then let's do it." he nodded at her.

"Good."

The cards were dealt, neither of them looked at them. The flop, the turn, the river.

"Good luck, Miss Bennet."

"You too."

They turned over their cards.

It didn't matter. Lizzy looked at the hands, saw who had won, but she didn't care. She got up with a nod and left the room, feeling Darcy's eyes on her. She swept through the party, feeling lighter than she had in weeks, ignored any who tried to call out to her. Saw Frances sloppily shouting about something in a corner, Caroline talking to Jane, Lydia running around with her breasts dangerously close to falling out of her top. On she went, out of the doors, down the elevator and into the street. Drew her arms around her as she searched for a cab, soon hailing one down. Before she entered, she looked up at the Netherfield, eyes seeking the top floor. A speck of orange light, glowing and then fading into the night.

With that one final look, she got in the cab and went home.