Elizabeth could take it no longer. She wanted to see him. Needed to see him.

She lay in bed, pondering the strong feelings she felt for him. She had to see him.

She made up her mind, and climbed out of the nest she had made with all of her many blankets. It was deathly cold tonight, and their heater had ceased to work. She ignored the protests her body made when it was met with the startling cold, and immediately ran to her wardrobe. She dressed in her only pair of blue jeans- stolen from a male department store, a over sized long sleeved t-shirt she'd taken long ago from one of her many male cousins, and a comforting wool coat. Once she donned her black boots, also her only pair, she went to her window. She stared out of the open curtains for a moment, amazed that she, Lizzy, was about to do this shocking thing. Oh the things we do for love, she thought, wistful. For was it really love? Could it be?

She pushed open the window, and scanned the wall outside her bedroom. Her's was the only room anyone occupied on that side of the house, so unless someone was awake and in the den, she would have no chance of being caught. Oh what would happen if she was caught, she wondered. Especially if caught by the lovely (not so) Mrs Bennet. She paused in her movement, listening intently for any movement in the house. Her hearing was amazing, her family had always said so, and she heard nothing. Forcing herself to trust her instincts, she leaned precariously out of the window, reaching for the trellis. Lizzy had a secret, a dark one that no one knew of. She was miserabaly afraid of heights.

She closed her eyes, not daring to look at the ground, or even the stone wall in front of her, and climbed carefully down the trellis. What if it failed to support her weight? Would she fall, plunging towards her death? Splat, right on the concrete beneath her window. Way beneath her window. Why had she picked a room on the second floor?

She pushed all doubts aside, and soon her feet touched safely to the ground below her. She exhaled, not realizing until then that she'd been holding her breath at all. Before she could change her mind and turn back, she took off running.

Lizzy went to the park, not having any idea why but doing it any way. She saw when she got there that she was in fact alone, thankfully. But was she really happy? No, not truthfully. She wanted one person to be there with her, but could she really hope for so much? She sad down against a large oak tree, wondering what trees felt. Did they have nerves? Did they hate it when people touched them? Did they get tired of people always sitting on or around them, and did they get bored being alive for so long and taking so long to grow? Did they sleep? Did they think? She thought a lot. Her most important thought was one most people would look at with disgust and mockery. Did trees fall in love with other trees, or did they fall in love with people when they sat on them too long?

Just as Lizzy was thinking about this, no where near an answer, she felt a presense. A very familiar presense. She stood up quickly, turning as she did so. She stumbled and fell right into Darcy's arms.

She was speechless as she realized who it was holding her. And he was holding her, for he had wrapped his arms around her by now.

She finally formed words, not that she should have, though. "What are you doing here? How did you know that I was here looking for you?" She asked, stumbling along for non embarassing words. "Looking for me? Well, I my dear, was looking for you." He held her at arms length now, suddenly composed and proper in his manorisms. She would have rolled her eyes, had she not been so embarassed and shocked. Her cheeks flushed redder than she thought possible, and Darcy found himself thinking it a beautiful look for her.

"Why would you be looking for me? How did you know where I was?" She asked quietly. "I had no idea where you were, madam." He avoided her first question, she noticed.

She stepped closer to him, forcing closeness. She suddenly regained her snippy, inquiring attitude. Looking him into the eyes from under thick haughty lashes, "Why would you want to see me, at such a time?" She was beautiful when she was acting like this, even more so than normal, he thought. And dressed in men's clothing, he suddenly thought jealously of how she could have gotten them. "Where'd you get those clothes?" He asked without realizing what he'd said. Her eyebrows raised, and then lowered slyly. "Why? Jealous?" She asked, slowly and voice dripping with seductiveness.

"Yes, of course. Where'd you get them? Do I need to wring someones neck?" He answered, all anger and dominance. "Calm down, Darcy. They were my cousins, I stole them from him the last time he visited." He looked doubtful, but let it go. His arms snaked around her waist. "What are you doing here? Alone?" He asked, the way he looked down at her with such tenderness in his eyes making her forget all she'd been thinking. "Why do you care?" She asked. He leaned down towards her, inhaling the womanly scent of her, the lavendar shampoo she'd washed her hair with before she went to bed. That thought was bad, because it brought images into his mind of her in bed, of her in his bed.

"Because, I love you. I don't want you to be alone in this cold, dark weather," He answered, not hesitating. She froze, he loved her? "Say that one more time, " She commanded, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. "Yes, Lizzy, I love you. I have always, how could you not know such a thing?"

He lowered his mouth to hers, and her eyes widened. This was a dream, that explained it all, she thought. She'd fallen asleep against that tree, or had she dreamt the entire escape? Either way, this was all just a fantasy. His mouth was inching closer, but ever so slowly, as if time had slowed nearly to a halt. He pulled her closer to his body, there chests, legs, stomaches, and everything else now touching. His seductively soft lips touched hers, and a gentle moan managed to leave her mouth.

"Darcy," she murmored, he felt her voice rumble deep down to his very soul. "Lizzy," He murmored back, deep with hunger. "Come home with me," Darcy said, his lips still touching hers. At that intoxicating moment, she'd do anything he wanted her to do. She was putty in his muscular male hands, and she wanted him nearly as much as he wanted her. "Yes," she responded, with no thought at all. "No one is there," He said, tempting her even more, though she thought it impossible. He was a master however, a master of many things, and one of them was seductry.

She pressed herself closer to him, wrapping her delicate white hands around his neck, and he moved his face to her neck, snugling close to inhale the scent of her. "Come home with me," He repeated, desire and need mixing to create a deathly sound in his voice. She responded as only a woman who truly loved a man could. "Of course, my love, anything I will do for you."

He lifted her up, into his strong arms, and to his house they traveled, faster than either of them had ever walked before.

Her mother would murder her when she found out what they'd done before they were even married.

This, I just suddenly decided I wanted to write really badly. I just did a project on the book, and I couldn't help but do this. It is my only one chapter story, so I don't know how it will work out, not that anyone really knows how anything will work out, but anyway... I hope you like it, it really isn't like the book at all, just based on the plot and characters of Jane Austen's fabulous work. I love her! (In an anti-gay way, for all of those who were wondering.)

Ashley Michaela