Chapter One: The Maryton Zone


Disclaimer: I know I act old for my age but not this old. Very little of this is mine.

Summery: He didn't know famous people lived in Iowa. She didn't know that jerks could be useful or handsome. Not strictly cannon. Some factual issues my be there as well. Same Flaws, Different Century, a Modern Prejudice.

There may be some things that are incorrect about this story, like dates, I can barely remember what day today is. Locations are going to be wrong because I've never really been out east. Spelling is my mortal enemy and I apologize, but on some of it it's for the character like that person can't spell, so please take it in stride. Thanks!


From: fitzwilldarcy. kingbing. believe this! What were you smoking!

From: kingbing. fitzwilldarcy. Re?

Aren't you about to take off? Turn off the email.

From: fitzwilldarcy. kingbing. Re?

If you want this off, why'd you reply? I've used my blackberry tons of times on flights, none went down. Now about my question. WHY?

From: kingbing. fitzwilldarcy. Re?

I bought a farmhouse in Iowa, near Maryton. I want to be away from all the city crap. Its awesome here, very peaceful and calm.

From: fitzwilldarcy. kingbing. Re?

Maryton? WTF?

From: kingbing. fitzwilldarcy. Re?

What do you want a sermon?

From: fitzwilldarcy. kingbing. Re?

I have time.

From: kingbing. fitzwilldarcy. Re?

I told you before. Besides the easiness of life, I've also met someone.

From: fitzwilldarcy. kingbing. Re?

Just one? Doesn't Iowa mean friendship?

From: kingbing. fitzwilldarcy. Re?

You're imposable. Shut your blackberry off. See you in a few.


With an angry stab the man in 2B, Fitzwilliam Darcy, turned off his email. He then with the same savage flair turned on his personal journal.


From the PDA of F. Darcy

Least favorite things and why my life sucks:

1. Caroline Bingley, Queen of Bitchtown

2. Io – fucking – wa

3. My 'vacation' involves both one and two

4. Catherine called; she still thinks I actually want to marry Anne. She's my cousin, nobody marries their cousin. The woman is delusional. And even if Anne wasn't related she's worse than a Stepford wife. I've honestly seen more personality in tightly curled steaming piles on the lawn.

5. Georgiana is leaving me. My baby sister is going to Julliard. I don't want her to go I need to protect her. She's all I got. But I'm a shitty parental unit, look at Wickham

6. Thought about Wickham, bad Darcy.

Charles Roderick Bingley III is on crack. Who in their right mind vacations in potato county? The pigs out number the humans 5:1. Sigh Charles isn't out of his mind, he just lives in his own little world, but its okay, they know him there.


Fitzwilliam let a breath out with a hiss and slouched in his chair trying to stretch out his six foot six inch frame. True he was in first class but the extra five or whatever inches was only a luxury for the short. As he sat sprawled out he though some more, a bad habit of his. As a child and as a man he lived in his head. He could be considered introverted and shy. But people were seldom in use of those labels. When he was little his peers thought he was weird. His parents found him serious. And his teachers called to him as intense. Even now those who did not know him well found him to be proud, arrogant, and aloof; unless they wanted his money. The root of the negative names. He was old money and successful, combine that with shy and people always got pride. He had now just given up trying, he was what he was, take him or leave him.

Darcy thought about all the reasons why he was flying to Greenacres. Reason one: Charles Bingley. He was his best friend. The closest thing he had to a brother. When Charlie called Darcy was hard pressed to resist. Even when he was seeking business advice Darcy heeded the call. Fitzwilliam's avocation was medical but he still headed the Darcy Pharmaceutical "Empire", five generations in the making. As much as he would like to he couldn't drop the ball on his family. That was why he took his new job. In order to follow his medical heart and be an unnecessary figure head he had taken a position as the Lady Austin New York Ballet Company's resident physician. AKA La Boheme. Boheme was flexible enough to give him time to be a doctor and business Darcy. Boheme was also the home of Luciana Keene, Darcy's kid sister, Georgiana, was obsessed with the dancer. It was beyond creepy the amount of stuff she knew. He was saturated with talk of the woman. The vacation was a way of preparing himself. Sure, he got along with thespians in high school, but they didn't live their craft. Sighing he ran a hand through his brown curls, closing his eyes he landed back and remained unmoved until he felt the plane start to taxi. Too late to turn back now. He thought to himself as he came to terms with his fate.

Soft sweating from the seat next to him made his eyes open, bringing him back to the real world. Beside him was a young woman hissing obscenities at a travel bottle.

"Excuse me." She said shyly turning to him. At a glance she was about eight or nineteen. Behind her glasses her eyes smiled friendlily at him.

"Do you have any Tylenol?" she asked.

"Yha, just a sec." he replied fishing into his pants pocket and extracting his own travel bottle. She thanked him before popping two red and white pills dry.

"You took a risk there miss." He said, slight warning in his voice.

"Pardon the stereotype, but I doubt that first class patrons carry roofie laced painkillers on the plane." She replied. She was sarcastic, he liked that. There was something in her that put him at ease.

"I hate flying." She said.

"You'll get used to it." Darcy replied.

"That's what my dad says, yet we never go anywhere."

"You're flying out of New York, see you've been somewhere." He said.

"I know, but it was a fight. My parents like grass and wine. I have allergies and can't drink." She sounded annoyed. Why is a Nineteen year old still under her parents thumb? He wondered.

"I take it you live in Omaha then?" he said.

"Heavens no, way too much "big red" I'm an Ames girl." She replied, feeling stupid Darcy asked,


"Ames, Iowa. Home of the Iowa State cyclones. Big twelve, division II." She said as if she was used to the question. "You from New York?" it was more of an observation than question.

"Yes." During their conversation she shut her book, First Impressions. Brit lit. She's got to be college.

"So visiting the mid – nowhere for business or pleasure?" she asked, he pondered his response,

"Friend of mine bought a farm near Maryton." She broke out laughing.

"You're vacationing in Iowa." She said in a sing – song voice. "Take it from me; Maryton is nothing like New York City." He smiled grimly; this summer was getting shittyer and shittyer.

They talked for a time, comparing NYC to Iowa. She seemed to know about Maryton. They talked about what she liked in New York. The girl was star struck over all the sights and sounds. She had seen the standards as well as a few things he had only heard about.

"I can't wait till college." She said, this made him confused.

"You'll be starting this year?"

"What – no. You thought I was eighteen?" The girl laughed, he felt stupid.

"How – How old are you?"

"Fourteen." She said. Darcy felt like a creep. How could he not tell she was just a kid. His discomfort must've shown because she patted his arm.

"Happens all the time." She said, and then went silent. In the quiet the girl looked him up and down eyes examining him from behind her glasses. "I'm Danni, and you're tall." She finally said.

"Fitzwilliam." Fitzwilliam said, and then cringed. God, my parents must've hated me.

"You don't go by that do you?" She observed, "Do you go by Fitz or William?"

"Uh, Darcy or Will works just fine." He said a bit uncomfortable. She smiled totally understanding.

"Fitzwilliam is a good name; I can totally see where you're coming from though. I was soooooooooo close to be Quintessa. My parents were totally on crack." He chuckled. "So anyway you're tall. That is evil – ly unfair." They talked for the rest of the ride, just about any random topic they got off on.

The wheels hit, the plane stopped, people began to file off. With a "see you around" Darcy and Danni were separated in the crowd. Darcy exited the plane and walked slowly to the waiting area.

"DDDDDAAAAARRRRRCCCCCYYYYY" Right on cue a stick in high heels screeched his name as she flung her angular body into his arms. The woman put him in a vice – like headlock as she screeched about how she missed him. He wished she had missed him.

"Hello to you too." Was Darcy's choked reply as he tried to pry the figure off his neck.

"Caroline! Don't kill the man, let Darcy breath." A voice from behind the woman said. The attack on his neck was thankfully over; the woman had been latterly pulled off by her brother. Caroline Bingley was looking over done as always. Her hair was overly colored, overly teased, and overly sprayed. The helmet reminded him of a goodfellas wife crossed with Marge Simpson. Her clothes were ridiculously ugly, as usual. This particular monstrosity involved shades of pink and orange camo, vinyl and three inch heels. It was disturbing. Next to her, looking as he always did was Charles Bingley.

"Bout time you got here." Bingley said as they embraced. Charles was a successful lawyer; however, he had gotten it into his head that he wanted to be a farmer. Poor deranged fool. Oh well, to each his dulcinea, to every man his dream.

From behind Charles emerged Louisa and Dick Hurst. A pleasant distraction from Charles's lobotomized grin and Caroline's lust filled eyes. Louisa was a squat woman, easily passable as a Lane Bryant model.

"How awe ya?" she asked him air kissing his cheek.

"Good to see you Lou." Darcy said. He liked Charles's eldest sister; she was so different from Caroline. Perhaps it was because Louisa had Dick, Dick could calm any woman. The man responsible and the bearer or the unfortunate name soon took his wife's spot and the two men exchanged greetings.

"So are we ready to go?" Charles asked clapping his hands together.

It didn't take Darcy long to retrieve his bags, packing light had its advantages. Danni was there with a mob of people. She made eye contact and nodded her acknowledgement. He did the same. Shortly after his group was able to leave.

Oh cruel fate, WHY? Why must you mock me so? Darcy's mind cried out as the journey to Neatherfiled farm began. Some how by the work of Satan he was folded into the back seat of Charles's new truck. Louisa, Caroline, and he were in some new Karma Sutra position, body parts stuck out at odd angles casing the scene to out weird Picasso. It was hot and humid inside and outside. The condition cased him to sweat, Caroline to adhere to his leg and Louisa to fan herself in vain. It was ungodly uncomfortable. Darcy tried his best to keep his hands where everyone could see them, a desperate attempt to prove his innocence. Caroline however was taking full advantage of the situation. She was taking the opportunity to do ungodly things to his body. He wished he had his cup. Sitting with Caroline was a contact sport.

"The weather is here I wish you were beautiful." Charles tried to lighten the mood with some music. Darcy instantly recognized the selection and he was surprised. For the longest time he was the only parrot head.

"Charles, where the hell did you dig this crap up?" Caroline screeched beside his ear. Darcy took offence. Thou shall not insult the Jimmy Buffett. However Fitzwilliam was curious about how Charles had finally came to see the light.

"It's Janie's."

The skies are too clear, life's so easy today. The beer is too cold, the daiquiri's too fruitful. No place like home when you're far away.

"Who's Janie?" Darcy asked.

"Oh Janie Bennet." Caroline oozed. "She's this little doll Charles's gone out with She's a sweetie." Then lowering her voice, "But rather unfortunate." Darcy realized that he wasn't going to have enough salt to listen to what Caroline said.

After an extremely long and uncomfortable ride the group reached Neatherfield. Fitzwilliam had to admit the house and grounds were gorgeous. The house was a modern glass front A frame with panoramic views of the rolling hills it was hidden in. The place had trees and grass, a novel idea. Perhaps the trip would be a little more bearable. If nothing else he now had a Caroline escape route.

"Welcome home Darc." Charles said pulling the truck into the large detached garage. The group gathered Darcy's things and headed to the house. Louisa threw open the front door and smiled.

"Welcome to the Bingley cave." She said. The group entered.

"You didn't lock your door?" Darcy asked giving Charles a look that seemed to say, "Are you crazy?"

"No one here does. There's no need. Maryton hasn't had a crime in twenty years." Charles said. "Come one I'll show you to your room." Charles led Darcy up a spiral staircase to the loft. The room was large and open with a glass wall and two beds.

"Hope you don't mind sharing." Charles said putting one of Darcy's bags on the empty bed.

"Bingley we lived together for eight years. I think we'll be fine." Darcy said Charles was the easiest man in the world to live with.

"I know you wouldn't care." Charles said smiling. Charles always did that; he was a "smiler". Bingley soon left to give Darcy sometime to unpack and adjust. Slight jet lag was creeping in on him but he pushed it out of his mind as he returned to his friends. He needed his wits about hem when he was remotely close to Caroline.


From the PDA of F. Darcy

Well it took the single reason for the nation's dependency on foreign oil to get here but here I am. Neatherfield Farm USA. The home isn't too bad; Charles could've done FAR worse in his choice. The house itself is spectacular and the land around it is beautiful. However I've yet to meet the natives so I will reserve my total judgment until then. I need to hunt down the elusive Janie Bennet apparently she's the person Charles's has met that has gotten him all school boy. I do know she has perfect taste in music and from what Caroline has said she's sweet, but I'm not sure how much salt that statement needs. Speaking of Caroline she looks very much the same, like the bastard child of a transvestite hooker and Stephen King's "It." Her room is downstairs across the hall from Dick and Louisa's. Dick has to be on the main floor because he can't hold his alcohol worth shit. I think he once got drunk off ONE SHOT of whiskey. And this is Iowa so we will be drinking a lot. Lou and Charles are both physically well, however I have yet another reason to inquire after Charles's mental condition. He's making me go to this bon fire put on by this pub in Maryton. He knows I hate this stuff. He's writing it off as a chance for meet his Janie. I hate it when he talks me into things. This will be another fine mess he will be getting me into. Heavy sigh.