Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

LIZZY

Sometimes, karma was worth the suffering.

When Caroline came up to Lizzy a month before the wedding at the bridal shower and announced that the hotel had some double booking mistakes, Lizzy had been stressed enough as it was. She had taken on every single burden for Jane’s wedding so her angelic sister could simply enjoy the experience. After the nightmare that had been her engagement—then—breakup—then—re-engagement, Jane deserved only the kindest attentions.

But Lizzy had lost many nights of sleep and probably at least half her brain cells organizing this wedding. And each day closer to the big day, she was reminded that this wedding wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Neither would Caroline, nasty snake that she was. Caroline was half the reason that the wedding lead-up had been so difficult. Her and one tall, broody, reclusive man she refused to name right now. They had nearly gotten the entire wedding called off— not once but twice— by whispering bullshit into Charlie’s ear for months. If not for Lizzy’s unending work, this wedding might not be happening. And only one look at the couple together could prove to even a stranger that this wedding should be happening.

But Caroline wouldn’t make it easy. And this time was no different.

Lizzy doubted that Caroline was responsible for the hotel double booking, but she decided she would blame Caroline anyway. If for no other reason than simply to calm her blood pressure from sky rocketing even further.

But even then, Caroline always had tricks up her sleeve…

“They needed a few volunteers who would be willing to share a room with a different guest,” Caroline explained with that false, too-perfect smile, “Now, I know you had your own private room, but since it’s your sister’s big day and you don’t want anything to go wrong, I figured that you’d be happy to volunteer, so I told the front desk to change your reservation.”

And there it was.

Lizzy gripped her keys tightly in her hand, almost hoping she’d draw blood to distract herself from finally beating the shit out of Caroline then and there. 

This wedding had already been a fucking nightmare. Now she had to share her last corner of privacy during it? She wouldn’t be able to get a moment’s peace from the chaos? She probably wouldn’t even get sleep; the other guest would snore or stay up watching TV all night. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Ohhhh, please tell me that was okay,” Caroline simpered, knowing full well it wasn’t okay. The satisfied glint in her eye told Lizzy as much. “I hope I didn’t mess anything up for you.”

Lizzy was weighing the pros and cons of murdering Caroline on the spot, but luckily (or unluckily) Jane walked up and looked between the two women with her wide doe eyes, “Is something wrong?”

Lizzy gripped her keys tighter and forced a smile, “Nope. I’m glad you solved the issue Caroline. Who am I rooming with?”

Caroline shrugged and flipped her hair over her shoulder, “No idea. We thought it’d be fair to make someone from the groom’s side offer, too.”

Part of Lizzy was pissed she wasn’t allowed to find her own roommate, but she supposed this was for the best either way. Jane needed her own space obviously; Lydia was bunking with some friends around the corner; and Charlotte had a room with Collin. And, even if the idea of sleeping in the same room with Collin wasn’t a nightmare, she would have to sleep on the floor in that room, and she refused to sleep on the floor the night before Jane's wedding. Their mother would have a framed photo of this dream wedding in every room of the house; she needed to look like she got at least somewhat of a good night’s sleep in them.

So Lizzy sucked it up.

“Alright. I’ll go call and ask them then.” She just couldn’t stand there and look at Caroline’s smug smile any longer unless Jane suddenly became okay with public violence, which she doubted. So she shooed herself away and called the hotel.

At that point, the hotel hadn’t known yet who was going to be rooming with her. And honestly, with the swarm of wedding things to plan, it was the least of her problems right now.

But bliss only lasts so long. If you could call it bliss.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

LIZZY

Lizzy smiled politely as she stepped forward to the hotel check-in desk. “Hey, I'm Lizzy Bennet, I'm here for the Bennet-Bingley wedding. I got misplaced from my original room and I’m sharing with someone from the groom’s party now? I'd love to pick up my key card, but also if you could tell me who I'm rooming with, that'd be amazing.” She'd thought about calling the hotel yesterday and asking, but frankly what difference does bad news make being heard ahead of time or not?

“Absolutely, miss!” the sweet hotel concierge smiled, clicking a few tabs on her computer, “Yes, so it looks like we have you with a… Mr. William Darcy.”

... Of.

Fucking.

Course.

“Yes?” A deep voice answered behind her.

Lizzy whirled around. And then there was the very man himself, stepping up to the desk after hearing his name mentioned. He pushed his phone away from his ear with his other hand— clearly on some business call. Per usual .

“Hi, roomie,” Lizzy smirked, crossing her arms. Alright… maybe this wasn't the worst option. She could make something fun out of this, right? Prank his luggage or something. That could be a great way to blow off steam.

“What?” His expression matched Lizzy’s from just moments earlier. Wonderful! He must not have known they were roommates either. “Uh, sorry Fitz, I’ll call you back.”

“Exciting, right?” Lizzy tilted her head, “Looks like we’re bunking together. Honestly, I’m surprised you even volunteered. You never seemed like someone who cares for charity work?”

Darcy stared at her like a deer in headlights for a few moments longer before turning to the front desk lady, “Can I pick up my key card now as well, please?”

“Charming as usual, Darcy,” Lizzy sighed, collecting her suitcase and purse and grabbing her own key card off the counter, “I’m off to go claim the better side of the bed. See you in a bit.” And off she went.

While Darcy wasn’t the ideal roommate, he probably wasn’t the worst. He would at least be relatively quiet and let her sleep. All he ever did was type away on his laptop anyway. It was like pulling teeth to get the man to make any noise other than adding statements here and there on a business call. And, while usually infuriating, it was exactly what she needed right now.

Besides , Lizzy thought, Caroline will blow her lid when she finds out…

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

LIZZY

The wedding proceeded… fairly okay. There were problems, but nothing Lizzy couldn’t handle. And Caroline, though furious about the backfiring of her plan, had mainly backed off, worried that more of her sabotage would lead to biting her in the ass more. Finally , she’s learned some sort of a lesson .

It was only once the ceremony had gone off well and they’d hit the reception that Lizzy realized the real problem with her hotel predicament. Ironically, not the actual sharing of the bed— Darcy had been asleep when she'd gotten back after last night's rehearsal dinner, and she was too tired to care much about crawling into bed beside him. And then in the morning, he was gone before she'd woken up.

No. In reality, the problem would be tonight.

She had planned for months to let loose once everything was over. She was going to order up a ton of alcohol after everyone had left the reception, and then she was gonna have some long, satisfying sex. She hadn’t done much for herself for months, and the only way she could pull through it was promising she’d catch up right after everything was over.

Normally, she might have waited until she was back home, but a wedding full of men her age that were friends with some of the nicest people she knew? This was more or less the perfect place for her to find some random person to sleep with.

But sleeping with someone entailed getting her roommate out of the room. And that was… unlikely. Darcy was unfeeling enough to not understand why anyone would need a night like this. He’d probably just look at her like a robot. Like: ‘What? You can’t work nonstop? That’s not a very good ethic, Elizabeth.’ UGH.

Well, she wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer. She’d dealt with too much— and he fucking owed her from trying to break Jane and Charlie up in the first place.

So it was settled. She was having sex tonight, whether Darcy liked it or not.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

DARCY

Caroline had been talking to Darcy for what felt like hours. Well. Actually it was. They had unfortunately been sat beside each other for the reception dinner, and she had followed him around after everyone had abandoned the tables to mingle. Darcy didn't care for the mingling generally, but he at least would rather talk to other people than Caroline any more tonight.

"It's going well," Darcy commented, as casually as he could muster as he stepped up to Lizzy from behind. He'd left Caroline with Charlie and her's grandparents the moment he caught Lizzy standing alone, "You did a good job." He tried to ignore how the specific shade of blue of her bridesmaid dress made her dark complexion glow, made her bright eyes shine richer. Lizzy was the definition of disarming to him in the most alluring way, despite the millions of reasons he had to run the other direction.

Lizzy turned around, with an odd look on her face. "... Thank you?"

"Is there a problem?" he replied, now equally confused.

"I don't know," Lizzy crossed her arms, "Are you about to make one?"

"I certainly wasn't intending to," he joked, though she didn't seem to understand he was joking. He relinquished, "I just wanted to congratulate you. You've worked very hard. It appears to have paid off."

Lizzy's eyes sparked with something, "It's funny you say that, because actually I wanted to ask you—"

"Who picked this playlist, right?" Caroline teased, jumping into the conversation greedily and latching a hand onto Darcy's arm, "I mean, Ed Sheeran? In 2022?"

Darcy should have known his freedom wouldn't last more than thirty seconds.

"It's a wedding, Caroline," Lizzy replied through set teeth, "This is what plays at weddings."

By the tension, and Caroline's specific comment on an artist he was somewhat sure Caroline enjoyed, he presumed that Lizzy had created the playlist and Caroline knew it. He should never have mentioned to Caroline the way Lizzy looked in her dress that New Year's Eve. Caroline had never stopped sniping Lizzy at every chance since.

"Well, at my wedding," Caroline smiled. Darcy could feel her hand begin to slide up and down his arm. Take the hint, Darcy , it screamed. Except he'd taken the hint. Many, many years ago. He wished one of these days she would take the hint. "I certainly won't be playing anything like that ."

"Sounds like a really fun time," Lizzy scrunched her nose sarcastically, "I just hope to God you'll invite me, too!" He didn't like the way that Lizzy seemed to include him in on the wedding idea, looking between them both. Couldn't Lizzy see Darcy loathed Caroline, too?

"Hiiii," Lizzy's younger sister— Lydia— jumped into the conversation. Darcy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lydia had been bouncing around all night, far too drunk to be respectable and far too loud to be tolerable. Lydia— and her all too similar mother— was one of the many reasons he had wielded to convince Charlie not to marry Jane. Alas. Charlie, and by extension himself, would be stuck with the Bennets forever now.

Lizzy and Caroline seemed to share the sentiment. He swore he heard one of them groan, though it could have been his own.

"Darcy, do you have an Instagram?" Lydia preened, siddling up beside him.

"Lydia," Lizzy warned.

"What? It's a simple enough question! I'm sure you do, Darce, everyone does."

"Uh huh, how about we go get some more cake?" Lizzy took Lydia's hand.

"No way!" Lydia argued. She ripped her hand from Lizzy's and snatched Darcy's phone from his, "What's your passcode?"

" Lydia ."

"Ah, it's fine." Lydia turned the phone to face Darcy, the Face I.D. clicking it open quickly. "So," she started with a grin, "I've been doing this series on Instagram recently, where I post these, like, mini-vlogs…"

Lizzy grumbled something and shook her head, "I'm getting another slice of cake."

And then she was off. Leaving him with the two women he wanted to be around the very least. He attempted to go after her— he really did— but Lydia refused to hand him his phone back until she'd followed herself and had explained whatever shit she was working on that he didn't care about. It was annoying, obviously, but he used Instagram so rarely anyway that he supposed it didn't matter.

What really did suck, however, was the half hour that followed after he'd gotten away from Lydia where Caroline proceeded to rail on every detail of Lydia's instagramming abilities, like some sort of disgusting, self-obsessed, influencer boast.

"I mean, did you see her saved stories section? It's laughable. Has she never seen a vector before? And she calls herself an influencer? Hah!"

Jesus Christ.

Meanwhile, it didn't take long to catch that by the cake table, George fucking Wickham had stricken up a conversation with Lizzy.

They were fucking laughing. And teasing. And smiling.

All the things he wanted to be doing with Lizzy. Of course it had to be George fucking Wickham. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten an invite to this event anyway.

And Darcy certainly didn't fail to see the way George's eyes trailed across Lizzy's body as she talked, catching at the low-neckline and the high leg slit of that striking blue dress. Because of course .

He forced his fingernails into his palm, promising that after tonight, this could all be over. Despite how little he believed it.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

DARCY

William Darcy drank very rarely in his life, but if ever there was a time, it was right now, as Caroline talked his ear off about the new line of Gucci purses coming out this season. He didn't even know half the words she was saying. But she certainly was saying them. And had been for much too long now. At least she'd moved on from Lydia's Instagram…

Lizzy had disappeared with Wickham from the cake table a long time ago, and he hadn't quite been able to find her since. It didn't help that every time his gaze was off of Caroline for very long, Caroline would find an excuse to get it back onto herself.

But then Lizzy was suddenly stepping in front of him and between him and Caroline— precisely blocking Caroline from him, in fact— with faux, wide-eyed innocence.

Lizzy knew what she was doing by standing there specifically. And one look back to Caroline proved that Caroline knew it as well. He almost smiled as Caroline’s face soured.

“Can I borrow you for a second?” Lizzy queried Darcy, with pretend naively.

Darcy tried not to show his elation too obviously.

“Absolutely.” He lent a curt nod to Caroline before following Lizzy away from the bar and through the crowd. He knew she was smart for that; if they stayed even a moment longer, Caroline would have come up with some excuse to prevent Lizzy from taking him away. Lizzy was good at handling people, he’d learned. He supposed she had good practice from her family. But the further Lizzy led him, the more he realized she must actually have something to talk about. She wasn’t just helping him or screwing over Caroline. She was bringing him to the edges of the room, away from people. She wanted a conversation with him in private. Weird.

He didn’t have to wonder for long. The moment they reached a spot that was satisfactory for her, she whipped around and launched into a whole speech:

“So. I have spent the last year of my life making sure that tonight was going to be perfect for Jane. I’ve spent the last week running on about two hours of sleep a night and more gallons of coffee than I can afford. I’ve been slaving for this night for months and now it’s gone off perfectly, and I’m letting off steam. Unfortunately, we’ve been stuck rooming together. So, what’s going to happen is you’re going to give me at least 30 minutes minimum access to the room alone and completely uninterrupted so I can find some random yahoo here and bang until I forget how much sleep, money, and sanity I’ve lost. And, not that you did that much for this event, but I’m willing to give you an equal amount of time alone if you need it, too.”

Darcy was fucking floored. He supposed after knowing Lizzy this long he shouldn’t be surprised at her brazen candor anymore, but he was. 

There was a much bigger problem to this, though.

He knew instantly there was no chance it wouldn’t be Wickham she brought back. Those two had spent half the night together already. He’d be the first person she’d ask. And even if Wickham wasn’t attracted to Lizzy— which, of course he was because how could you not be— he’d agree, just to fuck Darcy over. And then if he learned that Darcy was sharing that bed? Who knew what Wickham would leave behind.

“No,” he replied quickly.

“Oookay,” Lizzy crossed her arms, “Well, in case you’ve forgotten, you owe me. Big fucking time. You’re half the reason this wedding was such a shit show in the first place, despite the fact that it had nothing to do with you.”

She was right. He knew she was right. He didn’t agree that he shouldn’t have tried, but he had made her job more difficult.

“Okay. But I was planning on leaving the reception early and going to bed.” Bed. God, it sounded so nice after this day— this year.

“Great," Lizzy shot back, "Leave early, have the room for an hour or two, and then go down to the hotel lounges and catch up on all the work I know you’re desperately missing right now. I can’t leave here any sooner than probably midnight or so anyway.”

“I’m not sleeping in a bed that some random guy just had sex in fifteen minutes before.”

“We’ll get new sheets.” Lizzy refused to back down, “I’m sure the current thread count isn’t up to your standards anyway…”

Okay… He really, really didn’t want to do this. This would be a step in the relationship he probably couldn’t handle or go back from. But having her fuck Wickham in the bed they were going to share tonight was immeasurably worse. There was only gonna be one real option here.

“How about me?” He offered.

“What about you?” Lizzy rolled her eyes.

“I mean,” Darcy continued, hoping his voice sounded even— the one in his head certainly did not, “what if you had sex with me. Like you said, maybe I wanna have sex tonight, too. Two birds, one stone; no strangers in either of our beds.”

Lizzy blinked, stunned. He watched the wheels turn in her head. She clearly hadn’t considered that option. He couldn't blame her. But, as she'd practically just said, she didn't seem to care who she had sex with as long as she had it. So why not him?

She seemed to be realizing that too.

“Certainly would make it a lot easier to accommodate, right?" he continued, "Plus, Caroline couldn’t try to follow me home. I don’t think either of us want her in that hotel room at any point.”

Lizzy crossed her arms, “There’d have to be ground rules.”

“I’d assume so; I’ve met you.”

Lizzy narrowed her eyes, “Funny.”

“Name them.”

“We never speak of it again.”

“Done.”

“Not to anyone else— but also not even to each other,” Lizzy continued, “It never happened.”

“I understand.” That was definitely the best way to enter this anyway.

“Two: this will never be happening again. I’m sure that’s not hard for you to agree to, but I figured we should establish it explicitly.”

“Sure…” he agreed, although he’d admit that statement confused him a bit. Sure, they didn’t get along like Jane and Charlie, but did she think he thought she was repulsive or something? ‘ I’m sure that’s not hard for you to agree to… ’

“Three: we aren’t stopping ’til I cum.”

“Obviously,” he frowned. The fact that she even had to establish that with a sexual partner was concerning, but he knew better than to start that argument. How many shitty partners has she had??

“Those are my rules. And you?”

“Are you clean?” He asked.

“Yup. I don’t get enough to not be. Also every inch of my body has been waxed and plucked for this wedding, so if that’s important to you, it’s already done.”

“It’s not, but thank you. I’m clean too.”

“Perfect,” Lizzy put her hand out for a shake. Jesus Christ, this woman was something else. Darcy shook it.

"Great. We can…" Lizzy's eyes seemed to catch sight of something in the distance. She huffed. “We good here?” Lizzy asked.

Darcy turned to see what she was looking at— Lydia had cornered Charlie's parents by the refreshments table. And she had their phones. Jesus .

"Yeah," Darcy swallowed, turning back to her, "I can get—"

"Lydia! You can't—" she yelled, before huffing, "Excuse me."

And then she was darting through the crowd, and gone. Leaving Darcy there to realize the weight of what he’d just agreed to.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

DARCY

The rest of the night was spent watching Lizzy from the corner of his eye, trying to read when she was ready to leave. It was silly, and a tad obsessive. 

But eventually, it was sometime way past midnight, the whole place was mostly cleared out, and Lizzy was helping lead an extremely drunk Lydia off the dance floor— pulling her literally kicking and still screaming lyrics to a song that ended a while ago— when she caught his eye. She held up ten digits, then pointed back with her thumb. Ten minutes .

Something in his chest stirred. He’d had girlfriends before— if only a few— and he’d always enjoyed having secret conversations with them that only they’d understand. Especially at parties. He was notoriously terrible at parties. But sharing wide eyes over a dinner table when someone was being weird; whispering to the other about some crazy overheard conversation; or catching just one look and knowing each other was ready to go home… he lived for these things. He was not an easy man to read or know deeply, so to do so felt very intimate to him. Lizzy hadn’t done that exactly, but she’d conveyed something to him that only the two of them understood. And it sparked a glimpse of that intimacy with him. Made him think of the two of them doing it at parties in the future. It was silly; he knew that. As per her stipulation, this was a one-time only thing. And that was fine. But his mind raced faster than he could rule against it.

It didn’t help that he followed soon after by getting the car and waiting for her outside with the AC already going. Talk about domestic.

“I could’ve just Ubered there, ya’know,” she said, opening the door and climbing in a few minutes after he texted her he was outside waiting.

Clearly she noted the domesticity of it, too.

“Weren’t you the one talking about losing money from all this?" he argued, hoping he didn't sound too defensive, "Besides. We’re headed to the same place anyway…” he pulled out of the parking lot smoothly, beyond grateful that he could be distracted with driving as they talked about something too intimate for him to handle right now.

“And what happened to you leaving early?”

He shrugged, trying to stay casual, “Like I said. We’re headed to the same place. Figured I’d wait for you.”

She didn’t respond to that, just gave a hum and looked out her window.

“Sorry about your sister,” he offered after a bit of silence. Getting her out of the venue and into a car home had been an extremely loud and difficult situation. Another reason why Darcy had chosen to wait for her in the car.

“I’m sure you are,” she snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What was it you called her at New Years?” Lizzy reflected, “‘Pathetically messy and doomed to reality-TV-level stagnation?’”

“You heard that?” Darcy turned to her, shocked.

“Does it matter?" Lizzy replied, not even bothering to look away from the window, "You would’ve said the exact same thing to my face, too.”

She wasn’t completely wrong. He would’ve said it a little nicer, but the sentiment would have remained. But surely she could see it herself, right? She joked about Lydia being messy plenty of times before. Hell, they'd both seen how Lydia acted for the entire reception. Lizzy spent half the night reprimanding her.

“I’m not one to sugarcoat,” he defended.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Lizzy scoffed.

He felt distinctly that he had lost some sort of ground there. Perhaps he should have apologized, but… they both felt that way, right? Lizzy was always complaining about Lydia. Why should he apologize for that, then?

Whatever.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

Chapter Text

DARCY

They had entered the hotel and then their shared room together, still silent from the car ride. When he held their door open for her, Lizzy wasted no time before settling into the vanity, beginning to remove her jewelry and pouring makeup remover onto a cotton pad.

Alright… So, then, getting ready for bed first. Then would come… everything else.

Considering how much Lizzy probably had to do before she’d be ready, Darcy figured he could pop in a quick shower. It’d been an excruciatingly long day, and he’d be damned before being stinky while having sex with Lizzy Bennet.

Jesus Christ.

He still couldn’t completely comprehend that he was going to be having sex with her. Casual sex. Like it was nothing. Tonight. After which it would never be mentioned again.

He tried not to think about it too much for now.

By the time he made it back out of the shower, her face was fully washed and glowing, and her contacts were being snapped into their case.

She grabbed a pair of glasses out of her suitcase and slipped them on as she returned back to the vanity.

Darcy had only seen her wear glasses a couple other times, when they had both stayed at Charlie’s the same weekend all those months ago. Then, it had been nothing more than another cute quirk about Lizzy Bennet.

Now, though, it made him think again of that domesticity from the car. It made him think of the two of them curling up in bed with books, each wearing their glasses and pajamas. Of opening the curtains to wake her up for work in the morning, and handing her glasses from the bedside table to her. Of cooking her breakfast on lazy Sundays and watching her eyes gleam behind her glasses as she teased him over their morning coffee.

And all of those things were things he certainly should not be thinking about.

Damn it. This is exactly why he'd pretended to be asleep when she came back last night. And exactly why he shouldn't at all be doing what they were about to be doing tonight...

It took him much too long to realize he had been staring at her for that entire delusional daydream. He had just stepped out of the bathroom and stared at her. From across the room. For potentially a solid minute. Wordlessly. Fucking idiot.

He would’ve flushed with embarrassment, if not for catching the direction of Lizzy’s eyes. She hadn’t noticed a thing; her eyes were locked on his torso, bare except the towel wrapped around his hips.

However long he had been staring at her, she had been staring longer.

A smirk danced its way across his face. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“You work out?” Lizzy eventually said, hoping a cough would hide her staring. It didn’t.

This was a phenomenal sign. He’d spent much of their relationship trying not to stare at her, and while he believed they were friends, he wasn’t sure that she had any sort of romantic feelings for him. Well, if she didn’t before, there was something now. Or at least, he hoped.

He hadn’t tried to do this on purpose, but he was thrilled that this was a potential sign that tonight might just go well. Maybe. If he was lucky.

“Is that a problem?” Darcy quirked an eyebrow.

Lizzy shrugged and pulled her eyes away, “Just didn’t realize robots had time for that stuff. Thought you spent all your time sulking around and making babies cry.”

He snorted a quiet laugh and padded over to his suitcase, combing out some pajamas. It felt a little silly to select an outfit just to remove it soon, but it’d be much more ridiculous to wait for her on the bed naked like some sort of call girl. Pajamas it was, then.

“I only do one of those things,” he answered.

Lizzy let out a laugh.

Darcy looked up from his suitcase. She didn’t laugh much with him. Well, she laughed at him, he supposed. But mainly she only laughed in his company at things other people had said. With him, she just… fought. A lot. He tried to be funny, but it seemed she never understood his jokes right. Which made sense— most people couldn’t. It was part of the reason he hated meeting new people.

But, funny as she may have thought his current joke was, she didn’t reply with anything. So, he returned to the bathroom to throw on his t-shirt and pajama pants.

By the time he’d come out, Lizzy had recovered all her usual boldness.

“So,” she asked, beginning to take out the bobby pins in her elaborate updo, “You do this often, Darce?” This, he figured, meant sex. But he wasn’t entirely interested in baring his sex life open for her.

“Have sex with the maid of honor at my best friend’s wedding? No, I can’t say I have.”

He peeked at her through the mirror, and caught her smiling at that.

“No. Have sex period, idiot. I’m assuming you have? Or is that too presumptuous? Maybe you just fuck your work laptop every night instead. It’s probably sexier to you anyway.”

“Jealous much?”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, before cringing in pain as she attempted to pull a tough bobby pin from the back of her head.

“You want help with that?” Darcy asked. Lizzy made to shake her head, but he was already over to her in moments, carefully guiding her hands away as he began working on the tangle the pin was stuck in. She let him, putting her hands on the table.

He’d known Lizzy long enough to know that her hair had a mind of its own, and would not bend easily. It would’ve needed quite a lot of fighting to get it pinned into the style it was in now. Probably an entire pack of bobby pins or more. Though he supposed anything belonging to Lizzy would be nothing less than willful.

Luckily Lizzy realized this and let him help, or they’d be waiting all night.

“Are you any good at it?” Lizzy’s voice came, shaking him from his thoughts.

Darcy paused at his task for a moment, too stunned to answer. He blinked his way back, “I haven’t exactly given my previous partners a standardized test on the matter, Elizabeth.”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname, per usual. He bit back the smile it gave him when she did that. He loved poking at her in that way. 'No one’s called me Elizabeth since the fifth grade,’ she had groaned, the first few month’s he’d started doing it. But he did. That name was his to call her. She’d never told him no, only rolled her eyes and told him he had a stick up his ass.

“Then consider me your standardized test,” Lizzy grinned mischievously at him through the mirror, “I’m not one to fake it, Darce.”

“Shocking,” he deadpanned.

She crossed her arms defiantly, “I’m serious. I won’t sugarcoat it if you’re bad. You should be prepared for that.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes at her in the mirror for a moment. She truly believed he was going to be bad in bed. Not for the first time, he realized that despite their acquaintance, Lizzy knew almost nothing about him.

Maybe tonight would finally change that. No, he’d make sure it would.

“And you’re so sure that you'd even need to?” He raised an eyebrow coolly.

“I have my suspicions.”

He tightened his hand in her hair, tugging it sharply and bringing her fully back against the chair. She inhaled, startled. He kept his eyes locked on hers in the mirror as he leaned down to the shell of her ear with a slow whisper, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck you well, hmm? ”

Lizzy gasped quietly, her simmering eyes in the mirror wider than he’d ever seen them. He wanted more than anything to start then and there.

But her hair wasn’t done, and Darcy was more patient than that. He knew patience was the key here; he couldn’t rush this or it wouldn’t go well. Perhaps it was his pride, or something else entirely, but he knew he needed to give Lizzy the best sex of her life tonight. He needed to prove it— maybe to both of them. He wanted to render her completely speechless; to show her that there was more to him than she chose to see.

He slowly, methodically, returned to removing the bobby pins like nothing had ever happened. Lizzy was less composed; still gaping and frozen in her spot. She looked completely wreckable like this, and he planned to do just that. Fuck. Patience .

He let his fingers caress her hair much more than the job required— both because he’d dreamed of touching her soft, thick curls for over a year now, and also because he caught her leaning into his touch as he did.

He filed away this affinity for hair and head touching for later. Especially her reaction to the hair pulling.

He’d like to think he knew Lizzy pretty well, and that he kept a tight catalog of everything he knew about her. But tonight needed to be his a-game. He would be singularly attuned to her. Well. As if he wasn’t already.

It didn’t take too long before he was pulling out the last bobby pin, and helping her shake her hair loose. Ooooh fuck. His breathing disappeared as she raked her manicured nails through her scalp, her eyes following her movements in the mirror.

Fuck. That shouldn’t be as erotic as it was.

And then she was turning around to face him, her brown eyes wide and darkened with thoughts he was dying to hear— dying to pull from her as she was panting beneath him.

Before he could start, she was grabbing his shirt down to her and kissing him. Kissing was hardly the word. She was pulling at his lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth, brave and insistent.

His hands slid up her thighs, noting the catch in her breath as he did so, and taking his time to feel every inch of her smooth, brown skin as he rode up her gorgeous blue gown. She’d looked stunning in it all night, but he couldn’t be more excited to see her out of it.

She only kissed him harder in response, then ran his bottom lip between her teeth in a way that had him shuddering. Her nails, too, scratched across his back, digging in when she felt like it.

This woman would be the actual death of him.

“Mm, you wanna make it rough?” he asked, sweetly. Before she could answer, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her around his waist, crashing her back against the hotel wall in one fluid movement.

She gasped yet again, beautiful and low. He would burn down everything he owned just to hear her keep making that noise, good God. And then she was looking up at him from under her long, dark lashes.

“What?” he smirked, his eyes undecided between staring back at hers or at her lips, “Can’t handle what you’re asking for, Elizabeth?”

And then the fire in her eyes was returning— burning brighter than Darcy had ever seen as she grinned back.

“Who said I couldn’t?” She raked her nails through his hair and his eyes fluttered closed with a low hum. Her mouth followed soon after, kissing up his neck until she reached his ear, hot and quiet, “Give me everything you got, Darce.” She bit just under his ear, tugging the skin back as she pulled away to move down again.

He knew he could either let her keep doing that until he fell to pieces and melted into the ground, or he could take charge again. The answer was obvious.

He squeezed her thighs beneath his hands, before launching her onto the bed.

She yelped, shocked, her legs a tangled mess beneath her after landing. In a fluid stride, he was on her again, cornering her into the mattress. But that grin of hers was back— that grin that made his entire chest feel like it was shattering and regenerating from a thousand pieces.

And he was so glad. She liked it like this, liked it rough and playful. He had been anxious about that.

Darcy could be gentle if needed, he could be loving and slow. He could. But his truer nature was fierce, unyielding. He wasn’t Charlie— he never could be— but Lizzy didn’t seem to want that. Maybe she preferred someone like him. And that gave him the confidence he needed.

Besides. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of having slow, quiet sex with Lizzy. That would be… way too much intimacy way too fast. No way.

But this. This he could do.

He grinned back at her.

“You’re fucking difficult,” he narrowed his eyes, his arms still caging her in, “you know that?”

She raised a brow, “Only to people that can’t handle it.”

“You think I can’t handle it?” He let his eyes slowly rake down her body, disheveled and perfect, before coming back up to meet her challenging gaze and leaning in, “Hmm. Your funeral.”

Her eyes sparked, and he leaned in again, plunging into another open-mouthed kiss.

She parted long enough to swipe his shirt off his body and across the room.

“Jesus,” she whispered between kisses, as her hands slid up and down the front of his chest, “You don’t deserve to be this hot.”

It was a staggering statement to hear, and he would’ve pulled away to process it if he didn’t think that’d make her feel like she needed to be more guarded about what she said. Tonight, he wanted her so out of her mind with pleasure that she’d forget her own name.

So, instead, he slid a hand up her thigh, bunching up her dress as he went.

“Careful, it’s expensive,” she huffed.

“Do I look like I care? ” he replied, darkly.

She shut her mouth. He wasn’t bluffing.

He continued snaking his way up her thigh, grabbing and stroking and digging in, before stopping at her hip bone. Lost as he was with this pleasure of his, he hadn’t forgotten his patience. His hands skimmed around, skating over her panties for a brief second before skittering away. One, twice, and back again. Patience could be just as fun.

The closer he moved toward the wet spot in her panties each time, the more she gasped. Pushing with anticipation, until— he slid back away, grinning as her forehead creased, frustrated. God, he could do this for hours.

“You’re a fucking tease!” she huffed out after the third time, moving her hips to get his fingers to fall in just that right spot. But he dodged her attempts easily, “What happened to thirty minutes, Darcy?!”

“Oh, that was just a minimum, Elizabeth. Your words, remember?” he cooed, his hands still circling around their eventual target. “What, you don’t like what I’m doing?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and thick, “What happened to being able to handle it?”

“This was supposed to be a…!” her words fell into a breathy exhale as he finally ghosted over the wet spot in her panties… and then pulled away. “A business exchange!” she finished.

“Ohhhh, was it? I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you do, so— ah!” 

Darcy pushed aside her underwear and inserted his middle finger into her cunt in one sudden stride.

“You talk a lot,” he mused, his finger lazily moving in and out of her wet heat. She tried to grind on him faster, but he was insistent on the slow pace he was setting.

She was still being stubborn though.

“And YOU are an— ohhh,” she dissolved into a loud moan as Darcy curled his finger, pressing up against her just right. Her body shook, and just from a single finger inside of her. He was losing his fucking mind . He’d never imagined her to be so receptive. So sensitive. He could get fucking drunk on the feeling of touching her alone, not even including such delicious responses. She was divine.

“I’m what, sweetheart?” he asked her through hooded eyes. He wasn’t sure where ‘sweetheart’ came from, but he was so lost in these feelings that he wasn’t even sure he was entirely conscious right now.

“An… asshole,” she replied breathlessly, fighting to regain herself.

“Mmm,” Darcy hummed, “I don’t think you believe that.”

“I do,” she insisted, though she was grinding against him fully now, rocking her hips so that his palm was rubbing against her clit back and forth. It was immeasurably fucking sexy.

“Convincing.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her eyes screwed shut. But her body was shaking even more now.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He teased, amazed. He hadn’t even taken any of her clothes off.

“No!” she argued, though her movements said otherwise, “I’m not… I’m not— gonna…”

Darcy tilted his chin up, waiting for the release.

“No need to fight it, sweetheart. You know you want to.” He leaned forward, his lips ghosting hers, “Cum for me.”

She held out just a few moments longer, before her body wracked with the height of her orgasm. Darcy palmed himself through his pants as he carried her through it, his thumb taking over for her clit as she lost the ability to grind against him in her haze. Her eyes screwed shut as she shuddered rapidly against the pillows, restrained whines escaping her beautiful lips.

It was the hottest thing Darcy had ever seen in all twenty-eight years of his life. If he wasn’t already intent on making her cum as much as possible tonight, he would have scrapped everything else then and there just to watch that over and over. Holy fuck.

He helped her as she floated back down from her high, but only just so. She wasn’t going to get a moment’s rest tonight.

Darcy hooked his other hand underneath her underwear and ripped it down. He tossed it across the room, no longer paying attention to anything as he zeroed in on her glistening cunt, framed by the wrinkled fabric of her bunched dress. If he wasn’t already on a bed, he would have fallen to his knees instantly just at the sight of her.

Before he could even decide on it, he was burying his mouth in her mound, identical groans leaving each of their mouths at the contact. Her nails moved to his hair, pulling and scratching like she had done to her own hair, and he felt his eyes roll back slightly in his head. 

When they returned to normal again, he looked up at her from below her. She had hardly recovered from her orgasm, and was shocked to see him going down on her. The shock faded soon as she shuddered from sensitivity.

But holy shit was she the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Seeing her laying there, dizzied from cumming in her disheveled dress— the same dress she had been so prim and proper and perfect just an hour ago— was absurdly arousing. And fuck did she taste good. She was dripping from her orgasm, and twitching with every movement he made with his tongue. Beads of sweat were forming on her collarbone, her chest heaving against the fabric of her low-cut dress. God, she was a fucking dream.

“Darcy…” she piped up, her voice rough and hoarse and whining— Lizzy Bennet could whine, FUCK, “I’m not… you’re gonna… make me— again, wait, Will, I’m gonna— oh, Will—" and then she was shuddering and releasing an even louder moan, as her body lurched forward with a new orgasm.

His vision hazed as he watched her from below, so deeply enchanted again.

And she had called him Will. He thanked the universe that so few people had ever called him that, because he wanted his mind clear of every other version of saying ‘Will’ besides Lizzy fucking Bennet moaning it as she came for him.

“Will,” she panted, her eyes refocusing on him between her legs. She pushed him away with her knees, trying to catch her breath.

He let his fingers trail up and down her thighs as he sat up, waiting for her to calm down for just a few moments, “Again?”

She laughed, clear and loud, her face tilted up to the ceiling, “Jesus, Darce! Let a girl breathe!”

“Mm,” he shook his head, climbing up to meet her face to face, “That wasn’t in the agreement.”

She grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss— something he hadn’t expected so immediately after going down on her, but welcomed wholeheartedly nonetheless.

“You think you’re something, huh?” She teased, as her hands found his pants and began untying them, “You already had enough pride as it was. You didn’t need any reason for more.”

She slid his pants and his boxers down to his legs and he hopped out of them, quickly returning back on top of her. But she had other plans. She flipped the two over, putting herself on top, as her eyes drifted to his newly revealed body beneath her.

“So now, I have to fuck the pride back out of you,” she said, her eyes never leaving the sight of his hard cock. She reached down and gave it a few pumps with her hands, and now it was Darcy who was shuddering beneath her. She grinned wide.

Her hips rocked against his balls as her fingers toyed with his tip, and he knew this would go much quicker than he’d want. So when she locked her eyes to his and began sliding her body down to lick it, he had to speak— despite the regret he knew it would cause— “I appreciate you wanting to return the favor, Liz, but I won’t be able to last long so I advise— hhhha I… I advise …”

Lizzy licked another stripe up his cock before tilting her head innocently, “Yeah? Get it out, Will.”

“I…” his words turned into groans as she sucked all of him into her mouth. 

“I can’t…” he got out eventually.

Lizzy calmly removed herself and raised her eyebrows, “And who said it was about you?”

Darcy almost whined as Lizzy returned to what she was doing.

“Okay. Fine,” he exhaled, “I get it. You’re trying to get back at me. Fine. Buuuut…. oh — if we want to… if we…”

She released him with a pop that could have made him cum on its own, “Fine. Your funeral,” she quoted back.

She lifted herself up, wiping the drool from her chin, and Darcy couldn’t help himself— he pulled her to him and kissed her again. Fuck, how was she so hot? His hands roamed across her curves, finding the zipper at the back of her dress and tugging. It had been on long enough. She pulled away as it pooled off of her, and tossed it over her head.

“Fuuuck me,” Darcy muttered aloud, as his eyes caught sight of her bare body in front of him. She looked stunning in everything she’d ever worn, but what was he supposed to do now, now that he knew she looked like this under her clothes every damn day?

Lizzy laughed, and Darcy looked up, surprised. Shit. He must have said some of that aloud. Or maybe she was a mind-reader. Fucking figures. Lizzy Bennet would be a mind-reader.

Lizzy leaned over to her bedside table and rummaged through her bag. Darcy’s hands wandered across the planes of her body— up her hips and her ribs, across her shoulders, and down at her fucking perfect boobs.

Lizzy returned with a condom, ripping open the wrapper and starting to slide it onto him. Well. No. Barely sliding it onto him as she instead teased her fingernails up and down his length. He reached down to slide it on quicker, but she slapped his hands away.

He hissed, bearing the teasing until she finally made it all the way on him. Then came the lube, which she grinned as she massaged it ever-so-slowly onto the condom, “Desperate, baby?” she quirked an eyebrow.

“Hurry up or I’ll flip us over and fuck you myself,” he seethed.

“Oh? I’m so scared.” He wanted to kiss that prideful look right off her face but then she was lifting herself up and lowering onto hiiiiiiiim fuuuuck.

And they were both melting at the feeling, their words falling apart into noises.

She stayed stubborn, moving her hips at a pace slower than he’d thought humanly possible. She was fucking evil. She’d entered his life and from the first moment was only here to torture him. Fuck, he was so beyond fucked.

But he could only take that for so long.

He grabbed Lizzy between strokes and flipped her onto her back with a growl, “My turn.”

Lizzy smirked, until he grabbed her chin and pulled her face close, “This time,” he warned, “I won’t stop when you cum.”

Her nails dug deeper into his back, and he slammed into her.

Lizzy released a high-pitched gasp.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his words the only thing keeping him rooted in the moment.

She whined from under him and nodded in agreement.

“Oh, nothing to say now?” he teased, thrusting into her, “What happened to all that confidence?”

“— Will—“

“I’m right here, baby. Right here.”

“I’m— close… I—“

“Please, ‘need it,” he chanted, “God, I need to feel you cum around me. I’ll be right there with you.”

She managed a nod, her gasps getting louder and higher every moment. 

“Can I… inside—?” he huffed.

“Mhmm,” she nodded, vigorously this time, “God, please. Please, Will— Will—"

And then she was tumbling over the edge again, garbled attempts at his name fluttering in the wake of her orgasm.

And he was following her orgasm with his own, following her from feeling her collapse around him, from hearing her call out his name like that over and over. Following her like he always had. Like he had since he first locked eyes on her.

He exhaled, and pushed those thoughts away as his thrusts died out. He pulled out of her, as gently as he could manage, making sure to take one last long look at her body, sweaty and out of breath and so fucking stunning beneath him.

He tossed the condom into the bin and collapsed beside her, feeling both lighter and heavier than he had in months. Maybe years.

They laid there silently catching their breaths for a long time, liquified bones and unfocused gazes pointed toward the ceiling. 

Damn. Lizzy wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been laid for a long time. He was, however, a little disappointed in his own exhaustion from the recent inexperience. While it felt wonderful, he had hoped to take care of her all night long.

Well. He was a strong guy. He could buck up. 

“Do you need more?” Darcy asked, pushing himself up.

“Fucking Christ, Darcy,” she laughed toward the ceiling, “You’re unstoppable.”

“Just wanna make sure you’re satisfied.”

“More than, thank you. Wasn’t expecting all that.”

“Really?” he asked, turning his head to face her, “‘Cuz you deserve it. More, actually.”

She just blinked over at him, wordlessly.

“What?” he asked finally.

“You’ve… never complimented me.”

“What?” he repeated, more confused.

“Not until tonight at least. And now you’re just compliments galore over here.”

“That can’t be true,” he dismissed, defensively.

Lizzy rolled her eyes, “And there’s the Darcy I know.”

“No, I mean… I’m sorry, I just—“

“So then is ‘not ugly, but still not worth my time’ a compliment in your mind?” she asked, halfway between teasing and serious, “I’m asking that honestly, because I wouldn’t be surprised if it was to you.”

Darcy’s mind was short-circuiting. “How did you hear that?”

“From your own mouth, genius,” Lizzy sat up in bed, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table and wiping between her legs, leaving her back to Darcy, “Or do you forget your actions have repercussions?”

“Lizzy—” Darcy sat up, facing her, “I... I’m sorry, I didn’t— that wasn’t supposed to be…”

“It’s whatever, Darce. Really. I know what you’re like. I’m just saying I’m surprised that you complimented me so much today.”

“… You’re worth complimenting,” Darcy whispered, “You’re wonderful.”

Lizzy barked a laugh and Darcy felt his chest turn to ashes. They had just had phenemonal sex, and somehow they’d still immediately stumbled into a fight. No matter what he did, how did it always end up going wrong?

“Sure, you say that now because we just fucked. Check back tomorrow when the endorphins are gone and I’m worthless because you’ve already fucked me.”

“Elizabeth,” he put his hand on her shoulder, “I would never —“

“Look,” Elizabeth turned around, “Tonight was fun. And I looked past everything because I wanted to have sex and this was my chance. But I’ve heard all about you. George told me you dated his sister and then dumped her the morning after you finally got her to sleep with you. And whatever, okay? I don’t care. Just don’t pretend like you actually mean any of the shit you’re saying after your dick gets cold again.”

She’d just thrown so many things at him he didn’t even know what to respond to. HOW to respond.

“I would never do that; what the fuck did George tell you? He’s a liar—”

“And you’re not? Or have you forgotten all the shit that you and Caroline orchestrated last summer?”

“That shit was all Caroline—“

“And the blaming!” Lizzy exclaimed, standing up, “You’re constantly blaming everyone else! Caroline! George! You really think I would believe your side of this? After everything George has said? And I don’t care what Caroline did, we both know you were more convincing to Charlie than she was!”

“Can we leave Charlie out of this? George is a separate matter!”

“Oh, of course! ‘Let’s brush all the ways I fucked you over under the rug!’”

“I didn’t fuck you over!”

“Oh you didn’t? Who was the one that had to console Jane as she wept for weeks on end? Who was the one who had to share a room with her for two months after Charlie kicked her out—“

“Charlie did NOT kick her out—“

“He knew that she couldn’t afford that rent alone like he could! She had no place to stay! That’s kicking her out!”

“Don’t blame Charlie’s actions on me!”

“Fine, I’ll blame your actions on you! How about how you constantly shit on Lydia and my family?”

“Like you don’t?” he argued.

“Come the fuck on, that is completely different. I love Lydia, you have no right to talk about my sister like that!”

“She’s ridiculous!”

“She’s a kid!”

“She’s 21 and can’t even hold down a job for more than two weeks without getting fired or fucking half the people in the building, can you blame me?”

“You are fucking disgusting, William Darcy. Can you not hear yourself? That’s disgusting.”

“My point is—“

“Was George’s situation someone else’s fault too? Charlie and Jane was Caroline’s fault, Lydia is her own fault… I’m just trying to get things straight here.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about—”

“And you’ve been jealous of him for what, twenty years now? You want to call my sister pathetic? That’s pathetic, Darcy. You know, I bet that’s why you wanted to fuck me, huh? Wanted to try to rub it in George’s face because you knew he and I spent most of the night together.“

“Look, I did you a favor from preventing that—“

“OH MY GOD?! You only fucked me to screw George over?! Oh my god,” Lizzy started spiraling. “Oh my GOD.”

“Elizabeth!”

“Don’t call me that! Don’t call me anything!” She yanked a hotel robe from where it was folded on the vanity table and wrapped herself in it, “I hope to GOD I never see you again for the rest of my life. You can have every fucking holiday at Charlie and Jane’s for the rest of goddamn time.” She grabbed her keys and phone and stormed out the door, “Have the miserable fucking life you deserve, Darcy!”

Chapter Text

LIZZY

“Sooo, I bet you’re wondering what I want,” Lydia laughed as the waiter walked away from serving their sandwiches.

Lizzy smiled and pulled her plate closer to her, “Well, I thought you wanted some sisterly bonding time but I suppose I thought too highly of you…”

After Jane’s wedding a year ago, Lydia and Lizzy had actually gotten surprisingly very close. Well, mainly after Lydia’s messy breakup with George Wickham. Lizzy had felt awful about being the person who had introduced them at the wedding— and subsequently being the reason they slept together that night— so she tried to help console her when it all fell apart after a few months in the ugliest possible way.

But Lizzy also realized after her fight with Darcy that she was way too outwardly harsh toward her sister. She had been pretty insistent after that night to stop speaking poorly about her sister. And she realized that beneath the recklessness and wild spirit, Lizzy and her were actually pretty similar. The more she’d thought about it, the more she realized that Lydia had probably gotten a lot of her more infuriating traits from Lizzy herself. They were both willful and strong and loud, just in very different ways. But Lizzy realized that she loved that about her sister, despite the frustrations it caused her.

But then Lydia started dating Georgiana and everything changed even more.

Those two were amazing for each other; it was undeniable. Georgiana was an outwardly shy yet thoughtful girl, but inwardly to those who knew her well, she was bouncing with radiant excitement. Lydia was outwardly loud and energetic, but inwardly quiet and thoughtful. They balanced each other well, but best of all, they brought those secret other sides of each other to the surface.

Georgiana seemed to really come out of her shell with Lydia around, or at least that's what all of Georgiana's friends kept telling them. Lydia, meanwhile, seemed to really sober up. Not completely of course— that would be a travesty— but a lot. Lizzy had seen them together, seen the intelligent conversations they'd share quietly at the dinner table when they thought no one could hear and the gentleness Lydia possessed as she took care of anything Georgiana needed. It was staggering how deeply sentimental and caring Lydia could be.

So, when Lydia came to Lizzy earlier this month and told her that she'd proposed to Georgiana— or Gigi, as Lydia called her— the Bennets were all pretty thrilled.

“Well, yes of course, bonding time,” Lydia rolled her eyes, “but I have NEWS.”

“You’re pregnant?” Lizzy joked. Now that certainly would be news, considering her fiancee was a cis woman. But leave it to Lydia Bennet to try to upstage her own sister a few weeks after Jane’s announced pregnancy. 

“No! God, no!”

Lizzy laughed, taking a bite into her turkey-tomato sandwich before waving her hand, “Well, what is it, then?”

“I want to ask you to be my maid of honor.”

Lizzy froze her chewing, sure her jaw had gone completely slack. She forced herself to swallow her food before coughing out a “what?”

“You don’t have to, of course,” Lydia explained. Lizzy felt guilty for the nervousness on Lydia’s face as the girl twisted the ring around her finger anxiously, “But, the wedding is the same month as Jane’s due date so I don’t want to bother her with so much all at once. Especially if the baby comes early. And anyway, Jane’s wedding was like a fairytale, and I know how much you did for her. I’d really love for you to do mine, too.”

Part of Lizzy wanted to say no— she remembered the months of sleep she lost and the amount of hair-pulling stress— but Lydia was showing a rare moment of genuineness right now. Genuineness that Lizzy hadn’t noticed until she’d started really paying attention to her sister. And Lizzy couldn’t crush that. Besides, Lydia was wilder and would want more dramatics in her wedding, but she wouldn’t be as hurt as Jane would have if something went wrong. In fact, Lydia would probably purposefully mess things up to create some "fun" chaos.

“Okay,” Lizzy nodded.

“Well…” Lydia hesitated, “Don’t answer so quickly. There’s something else.”

“Oh?”

“Remember how I told you that Georgiana and Darcy were cousins?”

Lizzy’s face fell. Oh no … “Yes…?”

“I totally lied. They are siblings, and they’re super close actually.”

“Why on earth did you lie to me about that?”

“Because! You ended up telling me about what happened with you and him like the day before you were gonna meet Georgiana and I didn’t want you to hate her!”

“I would never hate her!”

“I know! But like! I was worried, okay! And then I didn’t know how to un-tell you!”

Lizzy sighed. She could at least kind of understand that. Lizzy certainly had gotten weird when she found out Georgiana’s last name, and Lydia called her reaction out, and the story sort of spilled out. It made sense Lydia wanted to separate them more.

As if Lydia even needed to. Despite vague resemblance, the two Darcys couldn't be more different. Lizzy learned that pretty quickly.

“Sooo, Darcy is gonna be Gigi's best man…” Lydia finished.

Lizzy closed her eyes. Of course. The world had a very funny sense of humor.

“I would never ask her to not have him as her best man— they’re SO close and he’s her only family left, because her parents ya know, and… well… he’s also the person who set us up…”

Lizzy blinked. “He WHAT?”

Lydia cringed, “Yeah, I know, okay? I’m a bad sister who’s been hiding a lot of stuff from you! But like! You hated him and I knew you never wanted to think of him again! And Jane was doing so much to make sure that you and he never saw each other at their dinner parties and stuff, so I was doing my part!”

“I’m not fragile, Lydia, I can handle the truth.”

“I know! I just didn’t think it would end up mattering, you know? I didn’t know I would end up marrying her! I mean, I’m totally glad obviously—”

“No, no, go back and explain the setting up part right now, Lydia.”

“Right. Sorry. So. Uh. Do you remember how I was running around making everyone at Jane’s wedding follow my Instagram?”

Lizzy rubbed a hand over her eyes, “Deeply.”

“Well, Darcy was one of the people I made follow me. So, he ended up seeing my post about what… George did, and so he reached out. He told me that his sister had dated him before, and… yeah. So he gave me her number and said maybe I’d like to meet up with her because we could relate on a lot on everything that had happened. So we did. And well… the rest is history, right? And then, well…” Lydia looked down and blushed, “Georgiana told me that one of his main reasons for doing it, actually, was because he thought that I would be good for Georgiana.”

Lizzy took a long drink of her water to process that before speaking again: “He did that? For you?”

Lydia gave a small shrug and smiled, “I know, right? I didn’t think he was like that either.”

“But he did that?” Lizzy asked again. She couldn’t believe it. There was just no way that Darcy would do something like that. Not for the girl he hated so much.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” Lydia beamed, “You must have really talked me up when he said all that shit about me, huh?”

Lizzy was still stunned. “I mean… I didn’t think he would believe me.” He certainly didn’t believe her at that time. So what, he went home and thought about it and changed his mind then?

… Well… why not? Hadn’t she done the same thing about George? Darcy was a rational creature, after all, who could reason and change opinions— despite its rarity.

She was floored. In the past year, she’d never even considered the idea that he could’ve changed his mind. But apparently, he did. And a long time ago, too.

“I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to be maid of honor or a bridesmaid at all. I could probably make sure that you guys never get within ten feet of each other I bet, I’m really good at shit like that,” Lydia grinned. It’s true, she was. She thrived on social manipulation. She really was her mother’s daughter.

“No, no. You shouldn’t be worried about me on your wedding day. And anyway… I think I want to thank him. For doing that for you. You and Georgiana really are great for each other. And I’m grateful that he listened to me enough to match you two together. And… I mean, he ended up being right about some of the other stuff, too. So I think I wanna apologize for all my shit.”

Lydia’s eyebrows shot up, “Sooo you’ll be my maid of honor?”

Lizzy smiled fondly but rolled her eyes, “Fiiiine.”

Lydia squealed, launching herself from her chair and squeezing Lizzy into a hug as her elder sister chuckled.

“I’ll totally make sure you guys don’t have to share a hotel room again,” Lydia began babbling immediately, “Well…” she quirked a mischievous eyebrow, “Unless you want to…”

“Shut up!” Lizzy pushed her sister off and back towards her chair, “I told you never to mention that again!”

“And I never did, did I?! Until now, of course.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. This was about to be a shitshow in many ways, but she was glad to have the sisters she did. Both of them.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

LIZZY

Months of planning passed. Darcy and her still hadn't seen each other. To be honest, she had been pushing it off for as long as she could. It wasn't exactly enjoyable to go to your ex-enemy-slash-ex-hookup and grovel at their feet about how shitty you'd been to them. 

Lizzy had eventually decided to talk to Darcy at the wedding shower. It was a joint bridal shower between Gigi and Lydia, so being in the same room together would no longer be avoidable anymore. And considering they were about to be having many more unavoidable events together, Lizzy figured they should get this out of the way early.

Well. At least try to get it out of the way.

That was the problem, wasn't it?

Just because they talked didn't mean they'd get it out of the way. If it was another fight, they'd be steaming for the rest of the wedding events.

But Lizzy was determined to make it go well. Partially for the sake of the brides, but also because she had a lot she wanted to apologize for.

But if time with the brides was about to become a joint-custody, we-agree-to-never-see-each-other thing, they needed to start arranging the divorce rules now for how the rest of the wedding planning would go.

Lizzy was honestly… terrified. She wished she hadn’t put so much pressure on this moment, but she couldn’t help it. She'd had a year and a half to think about this. And it did matter. And not just for the wedding. She didn’t just want to make up to avoid future awkwardness. She wanted… well. She wanted a reset. But that seemed like a pipe dream by now.

But even if they got in another fight, she at least wanted to thank him for everything he'd done for Lydia. Which, even more shockingly, hadn't just stopped at introducing her to Gigi. Because apparently Will Darcy was the greatest man in the whole world these days.

William Darcy, infuriating man that he was, was singlehandedly paying for the entire wedding. All of it . Even Lydia's absurd fucking ice sculptures and live-painter and double costume change of dresses. 

And look, Lizzy adored Lydia. But even if she had double the money Darcy did, she would never let Lydia get away with even half of the bullshit she was organizing for this wedding. Lydia was ridiculous and way too extravagant.

But, according to Jane, he was apparently fine with it. He wasn't even mad at her for the ridiculous expenses. He wasn't fighting her, or telling her to downgrade her wishes. (Lizzy did do that herself, however, when she found out he was paying. She had flipped out and forced Lydia to drop several of her most ridiculous wishes out of respect for the poor man.) But him? He deserved sainthood.

But even beyond that, Darcy was hosting weekly dinners for Lydia to join him and Gigi so he could get to know his future sister-in-law better. When Lizzy found that out, she was completely speechless for a whole minute.

" It's not even just, like, store-bought TV dinners or something, " Lydia had told her after the first dinner she'd attended, " He, like, cooks . Like full out, the full nine yards. And he's good at it, Lizzy! "

Not to even mention he was mind-numbingly, infuriatingly great at sex.

But even that wasn't the end of it.

Lizzy wished it had been.

Mrs. Bennet was, unfortunately, hosting the bridal shower today, in only the most extravagant ways possible. Lydia had learned her ice-sculpture-level expectations from someone, after all. Therefore no one was surprised when Mrs. Bennet rented out a massive garden patio banquet hall-esqe venue and dropped money the family didn't have to invite basically every single person she'd ever met for the shower.

Thankfully, her mom had paid the venue extra to have a lot of the things set up already. Nonetheless, Mrs. Bennet would be fitfully rearranging the furniture over and over until the first car showed up.

Knowing it was best to not entertain that for long, Lizzy only showed up an hour and half early, just to finish setting up and to make sure her mother didn't have any bullshit up her sleeve.

She hadn't expected in a million years for anyone else to have shown up yet.

She had been wrong .

She'd walked through the venue and out to the massive patio, admiring the dark wood arches surrounding the many potted plants and flower bouquets, when her eyes landed on Darcy.

Darcy . 

With his jacket off and his button-down's sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he was lifting furniture and moving it to wherever Mrs. Bennet was pointing.

Talk about speechless.

She wished her speechlessness was because he was politely assuring her mother that it was no inconvenience to be moving the furniture. It was a tense politeness, sure— as anyone's would be dealing with her mother— but it was clear he was trying pretty hard to be nice. Something he certainly had never done before.

But she knew her speechlessness was not about that. It was because he looked so unbelievably fucking hot .

Yes, she found him hot when they had sex, but that was different. That's endorphins and adrenaline and his apparently absurd work-out routine. And sure, she was always able to recognize that he was generally attractive— there was a clear reason that Caroline was constantly trying to jump his bones. But it was never a mouth-drying, tunnel-vision, the-room-is-suddenly-extremely-warm kind of attractive that she was apparently wracked by right now.

Had he always been this hot???

He certainly hadn't always been this polite to her family... Had she walked into an alternate dimension and didn't realize it?

She knew she was going to feel a lot of things once she saw him again, but she hadn't at all expected to get turned on just at the first fucking sight of him. They'd had sex, sure. Great sex. Awesome sex. But she honestly hadn't seen how that would affect her opinion of him, especially after their fight. Sometimes assholes had good sex, it didn't make their shit personalities any more attractive. And Lizzy Bennet had unfortunately had sex with plenty of assholes.

But this was worlds different. 

She chalked it down to just being taken off-guard. She'd expected their first meeting to be stuffy and formal, like he always was. Not watching his muscles straining under the thin, blue fabric of his button down as he lifted a whole couch by himself .

She remembered what those muscles looked like— felt like— under her hands, even all these months later. Strong, unyielding, sweaty from the exertion. Caging her in as he whispered intoxicating words in her ear.

God, she was actually sweating now.

She shook her head. She was being ridiculous.

Lizzy dropped her purse on a nearby table before hurrying to Darcy and grabbing the other side of the couch, "Here let me help." The fact that he was being gracious to her ridiculous mother was one thing, but it was another that her mother wasn't even bothering to help and he was still being gracious. Well, Lizzy was raised better than that by her father, at least. Even if she had just stood and watched him without helping for who knows how long.

It might've been a mistake, though, because the second she caught the other side of the couch and Darcy's eyes locked on her, his jaw dropped, along with his hold on the couch.

Lizzy grunted as the couch lurched weight into her arms, his side crashing to the ground.

"Crap, sorry," Darcy huffed, immediately grabbing the couch again.

"Eliza! You're late!" Her mother scolded.

"I'm over an hour early," Lizzy muttered as they walked the couch over to where her mother was motioning.

"Clearly not early enough! Look at Darcy, he came on time. My own child can't even come on time! And look around, when everything needs to be reset! I mean look how they left it…"

They set down the couch, and the pair's eyes met like magnets. Mrs. Bennet was rambling more, but neither of them heard it.

It had been, what, a year and a half? More? And he looked more handsome than ever. His dark eyes glowed a warm brown in the diffused, morning light, and his hair was tousled a bit from the exercise. She was grateful they were a couch apart, or she might have leaned forward and fixed his hair herself. God, that would be a crazy greeting.

Hi, sorry I yelled and said I never wanted to see you again, let me just brush your hair back for you even though I haven't said a word to you for a year and a half.

"... and you know, I've always liked you Darcy, you're such a sweet boy," Mrs. Bennet was beaming with approval at Darcy.

They both shook out of their gaze and turned to her. Lizzy knew that was a flat lie— her mom had cussed him out behind his back for months when the Jane drama was happening— and from Darcy's reaction, it seemed he didn't believe it either. Nonetheless, he politely said "Thank you. Is there anything else you want moved?"

"Oh, yes—"

Lizzy knew it was a fatal error to keep asking if she wanted things moved. Mrs. Bennet would move things indefinitely. Especially in a space as big and full of furniture as this. The key was to just tell her you weren't going to move anymore things. She'd throw a fit, but she'd be over it the moment you distracted her with a different problem.

But Lizzy wasn't going to stop her mom today. Considering no one else had shown up to help yet— and her father absolutely would not be making an appearance until a couple hours into the party where he would almost immediately find an excuse to leave again— it was just the three of them for who knew how long. And Lizzy was beyond grateful to have a tangible thing to prevent them from what would decidedly be the most awkward small talk of her life.

She'd have the talk with him today, of course, but not like this. Not with her mom hovering nearby. No. That would have to be for later. But she still needed to say something now.

"She'll be rearranging until guests show up, you know," Lizzy whispered to him as they set down chairs into the table they'd moved after the couch.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and Lizzy tried not to notice the way his arms flexed beneath his shirt at the action, "Yeah…" he sighed, "I've started gathering that." And then… he was smiling. Just slightly, just the quirk of one. A smile like they had their own little secret.

She returned it, unable to stop herself.

"Lydia should have warned you," Lizzy said, breaking eye contact and beginning to fix the table centerpieces.

" Lydia would have sent me in sooner," he teased.

Lizzy captured his gaze again with a chuckle.

Perhaps… perhaps their talk later was going to turn out okay. Perhaps they'd turn out okay. What 'okay' meant, though, she wasn't yet sure…

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

LIZZY

She hadn't anticipated how much later their talk was going to be. Once guests had started showing up, they'd both gotten roped into many different conversations and little tasks. Lizzy had been right— her mother truly had invited a fuck ton of people. Which was, in many ways, exactly what she needed so she could sneak Darcy out to talk to him in private without anyone noticing.

But it seemed like they could never line up properly. He'd separate from a conversation to go get a snack from the refreshment table, and she'd head over just to be stopped and asked by her mother to go grab something from her car. She'd enter the conversation circle he had been in just as someone was pulling him away to a different one.

Maybe today wasn't the time. Maybe she'd have to wait again.

But if the looks they'd shared before the party— and the rare ones during— were any consolation, she wasn't too worried about if they had to wait for later. They were at least civil. And maybe even more.

But, thankfully, the time did come, if eventually.

They had sat across from each other at the same table when the food had been served, but they had exchanged nothing more than a few quick glances and a secret laugh when his aunt Catherine had gone off on a tangent about 'education these days'. But when the food was eaten and the conversations were breaking apart to mingle around other tables, Darcy had gone off to refill his lemonade— Darcy drank lemonade?? — at the snacks table. And Lizzy followed. And, by some grace of God, they didn't get interrupted.

"You wanna talk?" She asked.

He looked up from the lemonade spout and blinked at her, "Oh. Yeah…"

She nodded towards an empty corner of the venue.

He gestured out with the hand holding his now refilled lemonade, "Lead the way."

When they reached the corner, Lizzy decided to break the ice with a joke first, "So. William Darcy drinks lemonade?"

He chuckled, caught off guard. God, she loved seeing him laugh.

"I don't, in fact. I usually hate it. But the water is out, and the iced tea has cinnamon in it."

"Don't like cinnamon?"

"Considerably allergic and generally distrustful."

She tilted her head and filed that away in her mental folder of Darcy facts, "Ah. We probably should have labeled that better… Any other allergies? Well. Besides the bridal shower bingo?" Each of their eyes flickered to the bingo ball cage that was getting set up across the way.

He gave a small chuckle, "Penicillin. Unfortunately, a little more difficult for you to poison me with at an event like this. Definitely just go with the iced tea."

Lizzy gave a half-hearted smile at his joke, feeling it singe her chest. "I'm not trying to poison you, Darcy. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"And apologize."

"For your mom? It really was fine, I—"

"Not my mom," Lizzy hugged her arms, "Though, yes, that too." Her eyes locked to his, "I want to apologize for Jane's wedding night. For what I said."

"Why?"

Lizzy frowned. "'... Why?'" 

"Why apologize?"

Lizzy crossed her arms, "Were you… there? I said some pretty awful stuff to you."

"... which was all pretty true," Darcy added on. "Well, obviously not all of it. But a lot of it. Enough of it."

"I basically said you were a womanizer," Lizzy argued.

"You also said I was being a douchebag to Lydia. And to you. Which I was."

"Well, you've clearly since reconciled that. You literally are the reason there's a wedding to be having a shower for right now."

"I did that because of what you said, Lizzy. You shouldn't apologize for something that ended up helping the people we both care about. If you hadn't called me out about Lydia, I wouldn't have reached out when she broke up with Wickham. And she wouldn't have met Gigi."

Lizzy opened her mouth, but didn't know what to say. She hesitated, "But… I shouldn't have said it the way I did. And I shouldn't have even said half those things at all ."

"You're acting like I didn't deserve it."

"You didn't!" she exclaimed. Lizzy sighed, regaining herself, "Darcy. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better about this. I appreciate that you look at that night with much kinder eyes towards me than I deserve. That clearly speaks to your character. But what I did was uncalled for in many ways. And I'm really fucking sorry."

Darcy seemed to let the apology wash over him for a long, quiet moment. 

"Thank you," he said finally, "I'm sorry, too. I hope you can forgive… Jesus, all the things I did."

"I do."

"Okay, now you're the one who's being too kind."

"Darcy—"

"No, no. If someone had talked about Gigi to me the way I had talked about Lydia to you, they would be lying in a grave right now. The fact you didn't kill me on the spot already spoke to more kindness than I possess myself, let alone that you could then possibly come back and apologize to me for that night."

"And the fact that you didn't kill me for the things I insinuated about George when you knew the truth, is also more kindness than I possess," Lizzy argued.

Darcy thought on that. "So… does that make us even?" It was clear he was skeptical, that he didn't think he deserved that. But Lizzy didn't think she deserved it either.

Lizzy narrowed her eyes, but extended her hand to shake on it. Darcy's quirk of a smile matched her own.

"This… didn't go at all how I was expecting," Lizzy admitted, shaking his hand. And if she didn't let go for just a couple moments too long, who could blame her?

"If I'm honest," Darcy replied, "I thought you were going to murder me today and bury my body under one of these trellises."

Lizzy laughed, "Well, when I talked to Lydia about it, she greatly encouraged something like that. Said one of the shower games could be placing bets on which of us would make it out alive."

Darcy gave a full laugh at that, his body caving with the exhale as his face grew into a dazzling grin. Oh God. Oh God, she was SO fucked.

"Yep," he nodded, "That sounds like Lydia."

It was fond. She liked seeing fondness on him. Especially when it was for someone she cared about.

"We still can fight to the death, though," Lizzy suggested, "It's not necessarily off the table."

"Well, I think if we—"

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet called from the patio, "Where are you! Bingo is about to start!"

"Actually, yes, I think I'd prefer fights to the death over this," Darcy said, only partially joking.

"No way," Lizzy chuckled, beginning to walk with him back to the tables, "You can't cheat at bingo with me if you're dead."

Chapter Text

LIZZY

The wedding only surged toward them faster, now that Lizzy didn't spend half her nights sleepless and fretting over the first conversation with Darcy. She couldn't admit in all honesty that Darcy was off her mind completely now— not with the new visions of how he looked at that bridal shower complicating her opinions of him— but the reassurance that they were in a much better place made it easier to just keep her head down and focus on the planning.

She rarely saw him for most of the lead up to the wedding, but that had been her own design. Their relationship right now was good, but it was in a precarious position. They could apologize all they wanted, but they couldn't fight who they were. And they were each extremely fierce, opinionated, and combative people. It only took one wrong turn of a conversation to send them back all their progress.

Lizzy had discussed this with Lydia, and the two had managed to keep Darcy away from most of the rest of the events Lizzy would be attending, and vice versa. 

So, how come after all that work, she still couldn't stop herself from beelining to him when she finally had the chance the morning of the wedding???

"Darcy," she smiled, nearly running into him as she exited the Bennet dressing room. "I was just about to check on you all." In reality, the offer to check on them had been an excuse to go talk to him. But no one needed to know that.

Darcy raised his eyebrows, "Really? I was coming to check in, too. Everything going well?"

Lizzy snorted, "As well as can be expected when the Bennets are involved. Is everything good with you guys?"

"Perhaps you could share some of your chaos with us. It's going much smoother than expected for us."

Lizzy laughed, "Be careful what you wish for."

"Lizzy!" 

"And there's some more chaos."

Mrs. Bennet whipped around the corner, bustling from the hallway toward the Bennet dressing room, "How can you be standing at a time like this?!! Pictures are in twenty minutes!" She hurried past Lizzy and into the room.

"I figured laying down was an even worse idea!" Lizzy called after her.

Darcy chuckled.

Lizzy shook her head, "I swear, they have cues or something. My family is made to be in a fucking farce."

"Keeps things interesting, at least." He smiled, his head tilting to the side as he regarded her.

It was her first full moment to really look at him. And god, he was gorgeous.

He was already wearing most of his attire, his stunning navy tux wrapped tight around his frame and only accentuating his insane physique. Who allowed him to dress like this?

And yet, his bow tie hung untied around his collar, giving an effortlessly casual twist to the look. She wanted more than anything to ruffle him up right now. He didn't deserve to look this perfectly imperfect.

Lizzy was only discovering more and more that she hadn't been wrong to hate him before; she'd only been wrong about why she hated him. This look only made that much clearer. He deserved to be hated for being so frustratingly perfect.

"Do you not know how to tie a bowtie?" Lizzy asked, excusing herself from having just stared at the tie for a weird amount of time.

His hands automatically went up to the fabric around his collar, "You think so little of me?" He huffed. "I'm wounded, Elizabeth."

She grinned, "You'll get over it."

A shriek from the girl's dressing room broke the moment. Which was probably for the best.

Lizzy sighed and rolled her eyes. If it had been anyone else, she might have been concerned. But it was her mother yet again. "What now?" she huffed, turning the corner and heading back in. She could feel Darcy at her footsteps.

There, she found her mother, bent over Lydia's wedding dress, eyes already fully watered, "Something must have spilled!"

Lizzy's gaze dropped to the gown, where a sizable glob of liquid foundation was stained into the white satin.

"Don't worry," Lydia rolled her eyes, continuing to buff out her eyeshadow in the mirror, "No one will be looking at anything but my tits anyway. And that's if they're not already looking at Gigi."

Mrs. Bennet was hardly mollified. "Everyone will see it, Lydia! It looks trashy! No one will be able to focus on you or Gigi because they'll be staring at this big brown stain the entire time!! Don't you understand?!"

"Mom, we'll fix—" Lizzy interrupted.

But that only turned Mrs. Bennet on Lizzy, "What can you fix? You're not even dressed and you look like a mess, Lizzy! You've been running around so much that your makeup is already smudged up and it's not even noon! My god, these pictures…!"

Lizzy chose to ignore the fact that her mother had sent her on half the errands which had supposedly smudged her makeup. She also chose to ignore the pang of insecurity at the idea that she maybe looked a mess right now, and in front of Darcy, too.

Lizzy knew her mom was nearing hysterics they'd be dealing with for the rest of the wedding if it wasn't stopped in its tracks now.

Lizzy turned to Darcy.

"Shaving cream—"

"Rubbing— …alcohol." Lizzy blinked, surprised her and Darcy both answered at the same time. "How do you know shaving cream works?"

"I'm wrapped around Gigi's finger; what else is new," he brushed it off, "Did you bring rubbing alcohol?"

"Oh, I brought absolutely everything," Lizzy nodded to the carry-on luggage in the corner of the room that was filled with basically every product that had ever sat in her bathroom.

"Shaving cream too?" Darcy quirked an eyebrow.

"Shut up. I'm assuming you have some?"

"Oh, you wanna try both?"

"Why not?" She looked back down at her mother curled on the ground over the dress and frowned, "I think we need all the help we can get."

"Fair." He nodded. "Aaaand break." He joked, before spinning on his heel and heading out of the room.

Lizzy smiled after him. What a fucking dork.

"Hmm."

Lizzy turned back to see Lydia watching her through the mirror with a knowing smirk.

Lizzy narrowed her eyes, "You should know, I also have a whole bottle of wine in there, too, that I could pour all over your dress."

Mrs. Bennet wailed louder.

"Do it, bitch," Lydia wrinkled her nose, "You wouldn't."

Lizzy stuck out her tongue. Lydia was right. She was totally bluffing.

Lydia only laughed and opened up another eyeshadow palette.

"How can you two be so casual about something like this?" Mrs. Bennet cried.

Lydia turned around in her chair, giving their mother a sympathetic look. Lizzy stifled a smile, knowing what would be coming.

"Mom, you're so right," Lydia sighed, "I am being too casual about it. But you know... I think it's because I'm really worried about Dad and I'm trying not to think about it. He told me he was thinking about wearing his flamingo bow tie for the wedding to try and match your pink dress. And I just feel like—"

"He's wearing WHAT?!"

Mrs. Bennet flew up from her seat and barged out the door in an instant.

Lydia cackled and returned to the mirror.

"Dad will kill you for that," Lizzy laughed, sitting down on the ground and pulling the gown onto her lap. She uncapped the rubbing alcohol.

"It's my wedding; I have immunity."

Darcy popped back into the room with the shaving cream and a questioning look, "Your mom was…?"

"Yup," Lizzy chuckled, "She's off to terrorize my father for crimes he did not commit."

Lizzy lifted her hands into the air, prepared to catch the shaving cream.

He quirked a brow, silently confirming her desire for him to throw it, and she nodded. She caught it perfectly, and beamed, displaying it around as if it were an award.

Darcy smiled back with the shake of his head.

"What happened to presumption of innocence?" He asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and wandering over to her.

"Doesn't exist in the Bennet household. My dad's on his own."

"He need a lawyer? I might know a guy…" Darcy asked.

"Needing and deserving are two different things, William Darcy."

"Ouch," but he was smiling. Darcy crouched beside her, "You care for your father so little?"

"Oh, whatever," Lydia called over her shoulder, "We've been dealing with Mom for two hours. He can babysit for a bit."

Darcy chuckled.

"I don't think this is gonna come out easy, Lydia," Lizzy huffed, scrubbing at the dress.

"Like I said, I don't care," she answered, "If people aren't staring at my tits, I don't want it."

"I think the point is that a stain would distract people away from your tits," Darcy argued.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. William Darcy, not afraid to talk about Lydia's tits. My god, he really must have spent a lot of time with her.

But then Darcy was holding his hands out to Lizzy, "Here, let me."

"Oh, Mr. High and Mighty thinks he's better at getting out stains than me?" Lizzy teased.

"No," he corrected, rolling his eyes. But then his gaze softened, "But you need some time to get ready. Pictures are in ten and you don't even have your dress on yet."

"Oh." She blushed.

It struck her that no one else had offered to help her all day. She had been running around to help everyone else, but no one did anything in return. And she was fine with that, it was the nature of a wedding, but... here was Darcy, looking at her so kindly, and gently guiding the work off of her lap and into his. She hadn't ever envisioned Darcy to be so... thoughtful.

She didn't know what else to do but nod and help get the rest of the dress onto his lap. She moved to stand up, but before she could, his hand curled around her wrist.

"And for the record?" he said quietly— so quietly she was sure Lydia couldn't hear it from the vanity, "Your mom is wrong. You look beautiful. "

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

DARCY

And there she was yet again. He couldn't deny the instant butterflies that appeared just from seeing her, and between the stain fiasco and the photo session, it was happening a lot. 

Right now, though, Lizzy was headed down the hallway, an empty water-bottle in one hand and a pile of Oreos in the other.

He let himself stare for a moment before stopping her. He had tried so hard not to stare at her during the photo session. It would be endlessly embarrassing for the bridal party photos to come out with him as the only one not looking at the camera.

He was already still embarrassed enough about what he admitted to her in her dressing room earlier.

But apparently she didn’t mind, because she smiled at him when he finally called her name.

“Yes?” She asked, stopping from her task and spinning to him.

“Did you bring a sewing kit?”

“‘You think so little of me?’” She quoted back at him, “Obviously. Come on.”

She turned back around and headed back to her dressing room.

It was empty now; the Bennets were all eating lunch downstairs.

She crouched by her open suitcase, popping another Oreo into her mouth, and pulled out a small plastic tackle box. She snapped it open, and Darcy could see various sewing notions packed alongside every single color of thread that would be seen in the wedding today.

Damn, she was thorough.

“Did you rip your pants?” She teased, pulling out the navy thread.

He narrowed his eyes, “Gigi got her dress caught during pictures, thank you very much.”

Lizzy hummed, setting down the navy thread and closing the box back up, “Then lead the way...”

When they reached the Darcy dressing room, Lizzy immediately went in to hug Gigi with a huge grin.

“Hey, gorgeous!" She pulled away from the hug and held out her hand of Oreos. "Want some?”

Gigi took one readily. Lizzy followed suit.

Darcy bit back a smile. He remembered when Gigi had been nervous about meeting the Bennets all those months ago. He had assured her that Lizzy would take great care of her. Gigi had, of course, come back raving about Lizzy, as if everything she said was stuff Darcy didn’t already know.

Gigi was still nervous around the rest of the Bennet family to this day, but Lizzy was the one she was immediately open to every time. It melted his heart every time.

“How come you didn’t offer me an Oreo?” Darcy quipped.

Lizzy threw the last Oreo in her hand at his face.

Darcy laughed with surprise as it hit him in the chest, Gigi's giggles echoing as he tried his hardest to glare back. These two women made it very hard to be mad...

“Now I have,” Lizzy smirked, kneeling down at Gigi’s feet.

Gigi was pointing at the rip and beginning to explain, but Darcy had stopped listening.

How many times could he say he was irreverently in love with this woman?

How many times before anyone could understand the depth of it?

Although, he supposed people could understand. Everyone loved Lizzy. At least, everyone he thought anything of.

He saw that now more than ever. The wedding party flocked to her left and right. She was magnetic.

He was well aware she could have anyone she wanted. And furthermore aware that, despite her new-found friendship toward him, she would probably never see him the same way.

He shook his head.

Today wasn’t about all that. Gigi was getting married. That’s what he wanted to focus on. His baby-freaking-sister was going to be walking down the aisle. And he was, undoubtedly, going to cry. He almost cried every time he even thought about it.

But then… part of him almost wanted to cry right now, watching Lizzy attend to Gigi so sweetly.

He was grateful that no matter how his relationship would go with Lizzy, Gigi would always have Lizzy in her life from now on. That made him happier than anything else.

Lizzy had already sewn half-way up the rip by the time Darcy zoned back in.

“-- This is just a temporary fix, though," Lizzy was saying, "Obviously you don't need it to be anything else, but if for sentimental reasons you want it properly sewn up, I can run it through my machine at home later?”

"Oh, would you? I don't want to impose or anything..."

"Definitely not imposing. I know you and Lydia leave on Thursday, but if you want to come over some time this week before that, maybe we could grab lunch afterwards! My treat."

Gigi's eyes lit up in a moment. Darcy tightened his grip on the armrests of the chair, hoping his chest wouldn't explode the way it felt like it was about to...

But then Gigi's brow furrowed. She bit her cheek for a moment, her eyes scanning between Darcy and Lizzy.

Darcy frowned. What was wrong?

"Actually...” Gigi hesitated, “I think I might just be too busy this week. Is it okay if Will brings it for me?”

Gigi’s nervous eyes glinted as they turned back to him. Oh, God. Lydia was rubbing off on her way too much. Gigi surely wasn't as smooth at it as Lydia, but it was enough.

Lizzy spun around. Darcy swallowed as her bright eyes caught his. 

He should probably say something. Give her an out. Say he might be too busy. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable—

“Sure,” her eyes simmered, a smile tugging at her mouth, "But tell him that he'd have to pay for lunch."

Chapter Text

LIZZY

The wedding day continued on as busily as ever. It wasn't until after the ceremony and the dinner and the speeches that Lizzy finally felt like the day was back in her own hands again.

And what should she do with full control over her time once again? Definitely not run to Darcy again, right?

Too late.

Why? She had no idea. But those words he had said to her in her dressing room this morning certainly had something to do with it: You look beautiful. They wouldn't stop echoing in her head all day. The way he'd said it, such a depth of sincerity and... admiration. She didn't know what to make of it. At all.

And then there was the fact that he might be showing up at her apartment some time in the coming week. That gave a jolt of excitement every time she remembered it.

By the time everyone had abandoned their tables and Darcy had gone to the bar for a drink, Lizzy managed to separate herself from a conversation with a distant cousin and very carefully rush to him before anyone else could monopolize him first.

She reached him, and he smiled at her arrival, warm and welcoming. 

It hit her quite suddenly that she had rushed to him without the faintest idea of what to actually say to him. Fucking idiot.

But, for some reason that she couldn't yet determine, he just seemed happy to see her anyway: “Hey.”

“Hey.” She looked down at the bar as the bartender handed him a drink.

“Not lemonade?” She joked.

“No. Thank god.”

Lizzy felt her cheeks burning as she held his gaze for too long. She turned out to face the ballroom, resting her elbows behind her on the bar top. “Back-to-back best man and maid of honor, huh? How many more people are we going to have to do this for before we're finally free?”

Darcy smirked over his drink, “Do I look like someone who has more than two friends?”

Lizzy gave a clear laugh. “Well. There’s always Fitz."

He tilted his head, “Wouldn’t call him and I 'friends.'”

“I meant me and him,” she teased, mock-offended, “You don’t think he'd make me his maid of honor?” She fluttered her lashes dramatically.

“Ah, sorry, you’re right.” 

Lizzy chuckled, her eyes scanning the room aimlessly and finding the centerpiece swan ice sculpture: “So tell me, why on earth would you agree to pay for the ice sculptures? Or even half the things Lydia requested? I think you deserve a Nobel peace prize for not murdering her.”

Darcy shook his head with a smile, staring at his drink, “Do you want the honest answer?”

“That, or your most creative lie.”

“The honest answer,” he pushed on, ignoring her teasing with narrowed eyes, “Is that… well.” He sighed, “Gigi doesn’t let herself have things much, ya know? She folds into herself and tries not to be a burden. I always try to get her nice things anyway, but she never comes out of her shell to ask for them for herself, no matter what I do. I like that Lydia has higher expectations for the both of them.”

Lizzy tilted her head, surprised.

Darcy continued, “Gigi… Gigi deserves all of this. And more. And I’m glad that she’s marrying someone who isn’t afraid to demand it for her, whether she wants it or not. Because Gigi deserves to have stupid ice sculptures and nice dresses and crazily detailed parties. And Lydia thinks so, too. I mean, we all keep talking about how they bring out new sides of each other, and this is really the side I want the most for Gigi. Lydia’s never been afraid to ask for what she wanted. That’s something most of us can’t do.”

Their eyes met, and the weight of his sentence hit Lizzy fully. What was it that she wanted? What was it that he wanted? She wasn’t sure she was ready to learn that yet.

Lizzy ripped her eyes away and found Gigi, fluttering across the venue, accepting words of congratulations thrown her way with a gracious smile as Fitz led her off.

“Is it weird to see her married?” Lizzy queried, hoping her voice didn’t sound as odd as it felt in her throat. “It’s certainly weird to see Lydia married.”

“Yes and no. She was born to do all this stuff. Floating around in a tulle dress and thanking people. I swear, she was some Regency princess in another life. It’s what she’s made for. She should be doing this every day.”

“That would make you a Regency prince then,” Lizzy noted. She wasn’t prepared for the way his mirthful eyes locked to hers as a smile spread across his face.

"I suppose. I hadn’t thought of that. Can’t say I have the proper manners for that, though.”

“Oh, come on. You raised her. Clearly you got something right.”

He snorted, “No, she did that all on her own. Her and I are complete opposites.”

"I wouldn't say that," Lizzy said, the softness of her tone surprising even her. Darcy blinked. And then his eyes were softening too, mirroring the same tenderness back. Lizzy's breath caught.

Panic followed, surging up her chest farther every moment he looked at her like that. She looked away once again, "Anyway, how am I supposed to make fun of you when you’re being so humble?” Lizzy reached out and grabbed his upper arm, shaking his body lightly, “You have to give me something Darcy, I’m dying over here!”

“Well, Lydia did dare me yesterday to start a fight with someone in the middle of my speech. It’s a little late, but we could have a go at it now?”

“Oh my god, we should’ve planned something. We could've scripted out a whole drink-to-the-face or something; really achieve maximum bitchiness.”

"Since when do you need a script to achieve that?" Darcy shot back playfully as he took a sip of his drink.

Lizzy's jaw dropped, a chuckle escaping through the genuine shock, “William Darcy! We are supposed to be getting along!” She’d be lying to say she wasn’t impressed. Darcy had much more of a sense of humor than he'd ever let on.

“Sorry, sorry. I was, uh… practicing. For the script,” he pretended.

“You are so full of shit!” she pushed his chest lightly, laughing nonetheless.

He caught her wrist with his own laugh, “Hey, it’s not my fault you s—“

“Lizzy!” Lydia jumped into their conversation, giving a forced smile, "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

The pair froze. Lydia's eyes fell to Lizzy's wrist, which was still in Darcy's hand. Lizzy retracted it with a cough.

She peered up at Darcy, trying to gauge his reaction to the intrusion. Besides the obvious awkwardness, Lydia was clearly upset. Very upset. Maybe not to the rest of the party, but to anyone who knew her, it was evident. Darcy must know her well enough by now to clock it, too.

Lizzy opened her mouth, but Darcy was already nodding, "I'll talk to you later, Lizzy."

Lizzy couldn't help the flutter in her chest at the promise. He wanted to keep talking to her, too.

She gave him a nod back and a last glance that probably lasted a few beats too long, before turning and following her sister through the crowd. Lydia gave quick, forced smiles to everyone passing by as they congratulated her, trying to pull her into conversations. Lizzy steered them away, giving quick excuses to take her away each time. They managed to reach the quiet back hallway of the venue before anyone could succeed in trying to get Lydia into their conversation.

"Okay, I know I know I know, you two looked really cute and I'm sure it was going super well," Lydia rambled with a frown, "But this is really, really serious."

“What? What happened?” Lizzy asked, emergency-mode fully activated.

“George. What fucking else. He's here; he’s outside. And apparently he won’t leave. The venue is holding him at the door right now but he refuses to leave until he sees me or Gigi."

Lizzy rubbed her hands down her face. Of course .

"While normally I'd be happy to go out there and handle it," Lydia sniped, "it's apparently bad for a woman to get arrested on her own wedding night. Also…" she looked over her shoulder and through the doorway of the ballroom. Lizzy followed the gaze to Gigi, drinking from a champagne flute and laughing at a joke Fitz just told. She looked happy. Really happy. "I don't want her to know he's here. George… George fucked her up pretty bad. I'll tell her after the honeymoon, but it'll ruin her night if she finds out now." Lydia turned back to her sister, "I would've asked someone else to handle it but Fitz is keeping her occupied right now, and you and Darcy were…"

"I understand."

"And Darcy's a lot worse about hiding his anger about George than you are..."

"No, you did the right thing," Lizzy nodded, "Don't even worry about it for another second; I'll handle it, I promise."

Lydia's concerned expression melted into a dazzling grin, before she threw her arms around her sister. "I love you," she sighed into Lizzy's hair. Lizzy smiled. 

Lydia pulled back, "I don't say it enough. But I do. And…" Lydia hesitated. "God, not to make this about a guy, but I really hope something happens with you two." Lizzy didn't even need to follow Lydia's gaze to know what she was talking about. "You… you deserve someone to love you like you love Jane and I. And I think Darcy would be that for you. I really, really think he would. And he deserves it, too. It's… it's honestly a really lovely wedding present to see you two enjoying being with each other. You look happy. "

Lizzy looked down. Lydia wasn't normally this sentimental. She knew it was partially caused by the high emotions of the day, but it was clear she meant it. Lizzy tried not to smile. She hoped this would work out maybe, too...

"Oh my god, I'm starting to cry," Lydia fanned her eyes, alarmed, "okay, this conversation is over, you whore." And then she was bounding off back to her wife. Aaaand there was the Lydia she knew. Lizzy blinked back the tears forming in her own eyes with a smile and spun around. Alright. Enough emotions. It was go time, George.

⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙ ⬙

LIZZY

“So do you wake up every morning and choose to be a massive cunt or does it come naturally to you?” Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stepped out of the doorway of the venue and found George Wickham, in a suit and tie, arguing with a couple staff members.

George looked up, a sparkling grin crossing his terribly charming face, “Liz Bennet. Long time no see,” his eyes trailed up and down her form, catching at each sliver of her revealed skin, “And there’s so much to see. No surprise there.”

Lizzy pressed her lips together. She gave an annoyed hum, moving down the front steps to face him, “And you’re here trying to ruin everyone’s life. No surprise there, either.”

“Ruin? I got a car full of any alcohol of your choice, darlin’. I’m here to party. Not sure why I didn’t get an invite,” he adjusted the thick, flashy watch on his wrist absentmindedly, “Considering I’m the reason they’re together. I'm sure I was the talking point of their introduction.”

He was, but Lizzy would never admit that to him. “Has it ever occurred to you that not everyone talks about you all the time? Or even thinks about you? I’m sure it’ll be hard to wrap your small brain around that concept, but I will bet no one in that entire ballroom has thought about you all night. Or all month, in fact.”

He clapped a hand to his heart, “You wound me, darlin’. But that’s exactly why I have to be here now. Remind everyone my part in this.”

“Your only part in this was breaking both of their hearts. And we have a building full of people who adore them. Do you understand how that might be a problem for you to walk in there if you’re interested in keeping all your bones intact? Or do you need me to give you a quick demonstration?”

“You wouldn’t dare," he gave an easy laugh. God, she would give anything to tear that smile off his face.

“Ooooh, I would," Lizzy cooed, stepping in close, "I’ve been dying to for a year now. But the better half of me is hoping you don’t take me up on the offer so I don't get blood on this dress.”

“God, you’re so mad. And for what, Liz? We almost had sex, or have you forgotten?"

"I wish I had forgotten." She couldn't believe there used to be a time she'd wanted to. She could see him fully now: a smarmy, emotionally manipulative, social-climbing poser who would lash out in every possible way to hurt you if you hadn't done exactly what he'd wanted. He disgusted her.

"Awww, come on, baby," George cooed, "We both know that isn't the truth. What, you jealous I hooked up with your sister that night instead of you?”

Lizzy didn’t even bother to give that a reaction. She had been the one to reject him that night, but it didn't matter anyway. George spun whatever narrative suited him in the moment. She knew that.

"If it makes you feel any better,” George continued, “I'd bet you would've been a waaaay better lay that night. Lydia… well, Lydia is pretty disappointing in that department."

Lizzy dug her nails deep into her hand. She was doing this for Lydia. She was not going to ruin Lydia's wedding. She was above this shit.

“Or…" George stepped in even closer, tilting his dumb, smug face, "Are you upset because us not hooking up meant you had to lower yourself so much to fuck Darcy instead?”

Lizzy cracked her fist across Wickham’s face. Pain stung up her knuckles in an instant, but she bit it back, "Keep his name out of your fucking mouth," she growled. "He's a better person than either of us. So is Gigi; so is Lydia. You didn't deserve either of them, and you certainly don't deserve to get anywhere near them tonight. Just get the fuck out of our lives already, you piece of shit."

“It was a compliment you fucking bitch," George clutched his nose, "But I guess you're such a slut, you can't see when a guy's being nice to you.”

Lizzy balled her fist to punch him again, but a different hand was already beating her to it. 

Darcy— Darcy!? — swung all the way through, his fist giving a sickening crack, much louder than hers had been.

Wickham growled and raised his own hand back at Darcy, but Lizzy kneed him in the balls before he could. Wickham grit his teeth and curled, sinking to the ground in pain.

“Good one," Darcy huffed, adjusting his sleeves. Strands of his hair had broken from their gelled position. She once again fought the urge to tuck them back into place.

"Back at 'ya," she replied smartly.

"Yeah. Sorry, you totally had it handled…" he grimaced at her, "But. Man. I would’ve been so pissed if I found out later that he was out here getting beat up and I didn’t at least get a punch in, too.”

Lizzy shook her head, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. How had she never seen how fucking similar they were? “Can’t blame you for that.”

He smiled back, before returning his gaze to Wickham and frowning.

Lizzy sighed and turned back too with a sneer. “If you want to stay and continue to get hit, I can go organize a line. They’ll come quick when they find out you’re here.”

“Fuck you both,” Wickham spat— actually spat at their feet— “You two assholes deserve each other.”

Lizzy’s eyes flickered to Darcy, but if his composure changed at all from the implication, she didn’t catch it. She wondered how much he'd heard before he'd stepped in.

Wickham picked himself off the ground with his face still in his hand, "I'm calling the cops on your asses. You just fucking assaulted me. Can't wait to tell Lydia that you two are the reason cop cars are gonna light up their wedding night."

"You've refused to leave private property," Lizzy argued back, "At a wedding. Good luck getting them on your side."

But Lizzy wasn't honestly sure if they would be. Cops didn't tend to believe women with her skin color, or even women at all. The venue staff and Darcy could argue for her sake, but there was still legal right to jail her for throwing the first punch. Fuck, she shouldn't have done that...

"Here," Darcy's jaw set as he clapped an exceedingly forceful hand on George's shoulder, "Let me help you call them." Darcy pushed George into the parking lot, leading toward the parked cars.

Lizzy crossed her arms and watched from the sidewalk as Darcy spoke quietly with a faux-smile and dark, furious eyes, his grip digging tighter and tighter into Wickham's shoulder every moment. 

She couldn’t hear a word between them— Darcy seemed to be making sure of that.

But then Wickham’s face fell. He gave a nervous look back to Lizzy before returning to Darcy and nodding, very seriously.

And then Darcy was dragging the man to Wickham’s car, shoving him in, and closing the door with a too-forceful slam.

Lizzy tilted her head as Darcy strode back, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were following the string lit archways down the path and back up the steps to the venue.

“Lyds did a good job with those,” Darcy nodded with a small, proud smile. 

“…’ Lyds ?’” Lizzy repeated.

His eyes shot back to her, “Sorry— Lydia . Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no,” Lizzy smiled, “’s okay. Just… surprising.” She started walking back up the path, “Never expected you to be that close to Lydia.”

“She comes over for family dinners a lot,” he explained.

“Oh, I know. Just… a lot has changed.”

Darcy frowned, a cloud of guilt settling over him, “… Yeah.”

Lizzy frowned back. She hadn’t meant to say that as a mean thing to remind him of the past. She had meant it as a compliment for where they were now.

She shifted quickly, "So is everything good? Wickham's not going to call the cops?"

Darcy chuckled inwardly, "No, no. Definitely not."

Lizzy shook her head, impressed, “What did you say to him?”

Darcy shrugged, reaching forward and opening the venue door for her, “I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Elizabeth.”

Lizzy narrowed her eyes with a smile, “So you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I would if I had any idea what you’re talking about,” he replied innocently, a glint in his eye sparkling.

Lizzy scrunched her nose, “Fine. Keep your secrets.” She stepped through the door and back into the ballroom, "But you should at least tell me how you found out we were out there."

"You disappeared out the front door. Not much of a mystery to decode."

"You watchin' me, Darcy?" Lizzy teased, tossing a look over her shoulder.

His eyes simmered as they caught hers, "Somethin' like that."

Somethin' like that.

Something sizzled between them. She could feel her insides threatening to boil over. 

The ballroom was pumping with a Doja Cat song as they re-entered, and a mess of twenty-somethings were shaking ass on the dance floor. Lizzy laughed, the pulse of the music matching the burning pace of her heart.

But then the tempo was slowing, morphing into a new song as the old one came to a close.

"Do you wanna dance?"

His words caught Lizzy off-guard. Completely, utterly off guard.

She whipped around to Darcy, tilting her head, wondering if she'd imagined it. But his hand was outstretched; an offer. A chance. Potential.

She smiled and took it, "Yeah. Yeah I do."

He smiled back, his hand turning to hold hers fully as he began clearing their way to the dance floor. 

Maybe I came on too strong

Maybe I waited too long

Maybe I played my cards wrong

Oh, fuck. Ed Sheeran's crooning voice made Lizzy's face flush with heat. Who picked this song??? And why did it have to be the one they happened to dance to?

Baby I apologize for it…

Darcy turned once he'd reached the dance floor, and took her hand, but not in a casual swaying slow dance position. In some proper— albeit relaxed— ballroom porte-de-bras.

Lizzy laughed, "Oh, we're a dancer, hmm?" But she followed his lead anyway, putting one hand in his and draping the other on his shoulder.

He chuckled, his confident arms pulling her in closer without even thinking about it, as he began to sway their bodies together. Lizzy gasped. She hadn't expected this to be as suddenly intimate as it was. She looked away instantly, hoping he hadn’t heard her gasp. But an unfortunate twinkle in his eye suggested he definitely had…

"My mom started putting me in ballroom classes when I was ten," Darcy spoke up.

"Ten?! Damn, you were a rich kid."

Darcy snorted.

Lizzy looked down at her feet, wondering if he was about to break out some complex moves. But, unlike the posture suggested, he was just swaying them easily back and forth.

Darcy ducked down slightly to catch her gaze and pull it back up, "Don't worry about it. Just do what feels right. Trust it."

She looked back up at him, unsure. But then he was leading them into a different step, and the way he held her and shifted her made it just make sense to follow what he was doing. It felt right. It felt good.

She did trust him, she realized. In quite a many things. She trusted him here, to lead her in this dance. She trusted him just earlier, outside with George. She trusted him in that hotel room all those months ago… 

And every time she had, he'd always surpassed her beliefs. She decided she liked trusting him. Liked seeing who he really was, when he was allowed to be.

He was staring at her with a small smile, a question in his eyes. He wanted to know what she was thinking, she could tell. She wondered how she could tell, when she felt like she still knew so little about him. There was so much more still to uncover, certainly. And god, she wanted to.

You're a mystery

I have traveled the world, there's no other girl like you

What's your history?

Seriously. Who picked this song?!

Do you have a tendency to lead some people on?

'Cause I heard you do, mmh

Darcy fucking smirked at that lyric. Smirked. Lizzy shook her head slowly. So he recognized the apropos-ness of the lyrics, too.

She didn't particularly love the fact that that was the line that got him to acknowledge it.

“Something funny, William?” Lizzy challenged, mirthfully.

He just smiled at her with the softest eyes she’d ever fucking seen. “You.”

And what could she say to that? To such staggering earnestness? She didn't know. She never knew, once she realized just how earnest he’d always been without her seeing it.

She tampered down the butterflies in her stomach, tilting her chin up to tease him. Now was not the time to be overcome with fluffy emotions; she had an enemy to press on the subject. "So you think I lead people on?"

"No," he answered, honest and contemplative, "I think it just happens." He spun her around, pulling her back in casually as he continued, "I think people have a tendency to follow you."

"Does that include you?" Lizzy dared, despite the fire burning in her to not say it. "After all, you followed me out to Wickham."

Darcy's face split into a grin, and Lizzy felt its warmth radiate to every nerve of her body.

"I did," he agreed.

"I suppose you're an expert about that then," she hummed, pressing in closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder as they swayed. God. Talk about it feeling 'right'.

He didn’t move them far from their little corner of the floor, keeping their steps small and close. Keeping them close. It honestly felt almost like he was just holding her. She loved it.

And I could live, I could die

Hanging on the words you say

And I've been known to give my all

And lie awake, every day,

Don't know how much I can take…

"Did you mean what you said back there?" Darcy asked after a long silence between them.

"Hmm?" Lizzy questioned lazily, not even opening her eyes.

"What you said to Wickham."

"What part? That he's a douche?" Lizzy snorted, "Yeah, I meant that."

"The part about me."

Lizzy stiffened, "Oh. You heard that?" Keep his name out of your fucking mouth. He's a better person than either of us.

"Mm," he answered simply.

Lizzy pulled off his shoulder, biting her lip. What could she say? Yes, of course it's true. I'm kinda falling head over heels for you right now. Jesus.

"I think I'm gonna plead the fifth," she teased instead, "Your ego's big enough as it is." She twirled herself in his hands, needing to get out the nervous energy sizzling inside of herself, "Besides. You never told me what George said to you."

"That is true," he conceded. "Except you decked a guy for what you said."

Well. That was also true.

"And you didn't deck him for what he said about Lydia," he continued, "You decked him for what he said about me."

Lizzy froze. He was completely right. What could she say?

So don't call me baby

unless you mean it.

Don't tell me you need me

if you don't believe it.

So let me know the truth

before I dive right into you.

"Look, if I'm reading this all wrong, tell me," Darcy confessed. Everything froze in Lizzy's heart. "I'm notoriously bad in that department, as you know. If you want to part ways after this and share small talk over Thanksgiving potatoes, I think we're good to go. But…"

"But?" Lizzy's eyes shone.

"But. If you meant what you said. If you meant… more. If you want more…"

"Yeah?" She couldn't tell which side this might fall down on. If he was about to tell her he only wanted to be friends or if he was about to kiss her.

"You should know: I still want more, too."

That was it. The dam breaking; the world flooding. It was so small but so big and it was everything she needed from him.

She surged forward, taking his cheek in her hand and kissing him. God, she loved kissing him.

She’d almost forgotten what he tasted like. The hint of bourbon on his tongue; the tingle of his stubble against her fingertip; the warmth of his sharp, woody cologne surrounding her. And when his arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer, she smiled— maybe she’d never have to forget those things again.

She separated with a grin, unable to contain it.

He spun her out into a twirl and brought her back in with lightning speed, kissing her once again with his own grin.

So let me know the truth

before I dive right into you

before I dive right into you

before I dive right into you…

That kiss only lasted so long before Lizzy had to part from giggling. "Show off," she accused.

He didn't care. He was still grinning, "Just for you."

Lizzy hummed, "Good."

The song slowed to an end, but neither made any move to stop slow dancing. Ariana Grande's upbeat vocals blared through the speakers at a completely different speed than the previous song, but they just stayed, swaying to their own rhythm. Lizzy smiled. She was glad Darcy didn't want to separate from their entanglement just yet, either.

"Oh, God, wait," Darcy interrupted with a frown, "does this mean we're together because of Wickham, too?"

Lizzy laughed, loud and full. She opened her mouth to argue— they'd hooked up before this, but. Well. They'd hooked up at least partially because Darcy hadn't wanted her to get with George. So, actually. Yeah. Kinda.

"He should get a job as an anti-matchmaker."

"Or maybe," Darcy suggested, spinning Lizzy out again, "He should just—" But Lizzy had accidentally caught the eyes of a certain group across the room during the spin.

"Fuck, they're all staring," Lizzy groaned, interrupting his thought when he pulled her back in.

Gigi, Lydia, Fitz, Jane, and Charlie were all gathered around, watching the two of them dancing with wide eyes and massive grins. Luckily, she had turned away before they could cheer or give thumbs up or something else equally mortifying.

"Of course they are," Darcy answered, calmly, "you look stunning."

Lizzy's face cracked into a grin. She couldn't help it. It was so cheesy but it was so earnest, and she was completely and totally head over heels for this man.

Darcy continued, "Gigi showed me a picture of you all in your bridesmaid dresses after your fittings and I actually groaned. Aloud."

That earned a laugh from Lizzy.

"You know, you make it very difficult to ignore you, Elizabeth."

"Says you," she snorted, "I couldn't stop staring during the ceremony. You, meanwhile, didn’t look at me once."

"I had trained very intensely. That picture gave me a good idea of what I'd be working with and I took the task seriously."

"Maybe I like you staring…" Lizzy tilted her chin up.

"Then I will."

"Yeah? And if I didn't?"

"I wouldn't."

"Liar," Lizzy narrowed her eyes with a grin. "You know, if we're gonna date, you can't just agree with everything I say."

“Mm,” he hummed and spun her 180 degrees. He pulled her close against his front, swaying in a way that felt much more like a heated tango than the waltz they had seemed to be doing. Darcy leaned into her ear, his voice vibrating through every nerve of her body, “Because I’m known as such a pushover…”

Memories of him throwing her on the bed flashed across the backs of Lizzy's eyes, and a shiver ran down her spine. If he was going to keep dancing with her like this, she might end up the one agreeing to anything he said.

She felt him smirk against her hair. Was she that transparent?

"You know," she started, coyly, leaning back against his chest and turning her chin up, "I don't think I particularly like having a hotel room alone."

"Oh?"

"Mm," she assented, "'s pretty lonely. I think I prefer a roommate."

"That can be arranged," he agreed, his tone dark and rich. She wanted to breathe it in. "Now?" he asked.

Lizzy laughed, "We're the maid of honor and best man. We can't just leave."

"I think our little audience would beg to differ."

"Our little audience should mind their own business," she retorted.

"Alright, then when would you suggest?" his murmured against her skin, "I can be very patient…"

Lizzy swallowed, trying to wet her rapidly drying mouth, "... Ten minutes?"

Darcy gave a single, clear laugh, pulling away and spinning her back to face him, "And you say I'm a pushover."

“Shut up,” she pushed against his chest. He took her hand and gave a kiss to the back of it.

“I’ll have the car waiting for you.”

"With the A/C going?"

"Of course."

She smiled. She wasn't sure what she had done to deserve this— deserve him. In fact, she'd done so much to not deserve him. And yet here he was, standing before her, offering his heart so openly, so repeatedly.

Lizzy turned to look back at their audience, who had luckily returned to their own business.

Most of them were near the other side of the dance floor. Fitz was dancing wildly; Gigi was giggling and filming it; Lydia was laughing and saying something in her new wife's ear. And then she was putting Gigi's phone away, and swinging her in to dance themselves. At the table behind them, Charlie had Jane in his arms, his hand absentmindedly on the baby bump as they laughed at their dancing friends and shared happy whispers between themselves.

Lizzy squeezed Darcy's hand and pulled away from their dancing embrace, "Actually, let's go join them." She turned back with a wink, "Something tells me we're going to have plenty of time at the hotel later."

Darcy smiled at her, and nodded in agreement.

Lizzy led their clasped hands through the crowd over to their friends— to the group she was going to spend the rest of her life sharing holidays and birthdays with, with the man she hoped would be beside her for it.