I find it somewhat amusing that I get reviews on other stories telling me, specifically, to update this one. It has happened at least four or five times now so I'd just like to say that I greatly appreciate your enthusiasm. =)


Darcy's POV

Darcy knew, simply by the route they had taken, that they were headed to the portrait gallery. There was little else in this part of the house or, at least, there hadn't been when he owned it.

They did in fact enter the portrait gallery and Darcy stopped rather quickly to examine some of the portraits. All the paintings that were in his current view he had never seen before. It was quite strange to think that they were his future relatives.

"Darcy," Elizabeth called out to him and he saw that she was some ways down the hall. Charlie was intent on a picture there. Obediently, Darcy walked down to meet them. Neither he nor Jane had looked at the picture that fascinated Charlie.

"Jane," Charlie said at last, turning to her. "This may be difficult to believe, but we believe that Darcy is not from our time." Darcy turned his eyes on Charlie in confusion. How could he know that? Unless Elizabeth told him. Darcy shot a quick glance in her direction. She too was looking anxiously at Jane. How many people would she tell? He may not have been familiar with this time period, but he was familiar enough with human nature to imagine the tests and experiments that would be done with him before he was allowed to return home, should his background become general knowledge.

"Is this really the time for one of your jokes? Did you really call me down here just for this sad attempt at humor?"

"Jane, he's telling the truth. Darcy is not from our time." Elizabeth reaffirmed.

"What exactly does, 'not from our time' mean?"

"It means, Darcy is from the early 19th century."

"1811 to be exact," Darcy cut in after Elizabeth.

"That is impossible!" Jane cried, refusing to believe them. She took a few small steps back from the three of them.

"It's true, Jane. Darcy," Elizabeth said, turning to him, "what is a computer? Or a telephone? Can you tell me who Walt Disney, Hitler, Lincoln or Elvis were?" Darcy looked at her blankly. Everything she had said made no sense. It was if she was making up words and names, yet the rapidity with which she listed them off suggested otherwise.

"Harry Potter? The Lord of the Rings?" Charlie joined in the questioning. Darcy shook his head, as much to signal that he knew nothing of the topics as to clear his head.

"IPods? Laptops? The Beatles? CDs? DVDs? Blu rays? Soda? Coca cola? Pepsi? Hershey's? The internet?" Darcy had lost track of who was saying what. The words washed over him in a flood and he could understand none of it.

"How about cell phones?" Elizabeth asked, finally offering a question that Darcy could slightly understand.

"Those strange boxes that Charlie and Jane were speaking into?" Darcy noted the look of confusion in Elizabeth and Charlie's eyes as they shot each other a glance.

"How did you know that," they both asked at once. Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but Jane beat him to it.

"I told him," she stated quietly and Darcy nodded in agreement. "What is electricity?" Jane turned to face Darcy and asked him a question of her own.

"It is a form of energy caused by the movement of…" he trailed off trying to remember the word Elizabeth had used. It sounded quite like electricity. Elect… elect… electron? "Electrons?" Jane shot a look between the three around her.

"I was almost beginning to believe you—" Elizabeth cut Jane off.

"I told him that." Darcy bowed slightly in confirmation.

"Who is the president of the United States, then?" Jane asked him. Darcy furrowed his brow in concentration and struggled to come up with the name.

"Madison I believe. John Madison? James? Jack?" Darcy struggled to come up with the correct name, but it eluded his mind every time.

"James Madison died over a hundred and fifty years ago." It was impossible. Darcy clearly remembered reading something in the paper not four days ago about Madison. He said as much.

"Four days ago you were two hundred years in the past." Elizabeth said, shrugging her shoulders a little.

"Darcy," Jane quietly called his attention back to her, "how many states—or colonies—are there in the US?" Darcy imagined the map he had in his study and began to count silently in his mind.

"Fifteen I do believe." Jane sighed and shook her head.

"There are fifty." Darcy knew his number could be off, but it seemed odd that he could have missed thirty-five states. Or perhaps they had all come about in the last two hundred years? He supposed that to be possible.

"Do you believe us now, Jane?" Elizabeth asked this, her eyes seeming to Darcy almost pleading.

"It is too fantastic. I can't believe it. Not without more solid proof. I'm sorry." Jane was about to turn away when Charlie caught her arm. He spun her to face the portrait they stood in front of.

"How about this for proof?" He demanded. Jane looked up at the portrait and instantly froze. Darcy too shot a worried look at it, but to him it did not seem odd. It was just the painting of him that had been done a few years after he took over the estate. Jane was now sending him sidelong glances as her eyes darted between the picture and his person. Darcy sighed and glanced over at the painting to the left. It was of his family, the only one that was made before his mother's death. Darcy walked over to it and gently traced his fingers over the younger version of his sister. How he missed her. And what did she think of his being gone? It was only months after her encounter with Wickham, and he should be there with her.

Darcy hadn't noticed how much time he had spent gazing at the picture of his once full and happy family until Jane came over to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What was her name?" Darcy jumped at both the unexpectedness and the contact. There seemed to be a much smaller regard for personal space than in his time.

"Excuse me?" Unlike before when Jane seemed exasperated with everything he did, now she offered him an encouraging smile.

"That's your sister, right?" Darcy started to bow before pausing and offering her a nod instead. "What was her name?"

"Her name is Georgiana." He felt the need to enforce the fact that his sister was not gone in any way. He would see her again. He could not use the past tense.

"That's a lovely name. And these are your parents?"

"Yes, they were my parents." Darcy caught a slight look of vexation on his companions face and he felt the need to explain. "My parents were dead when I left, whereas my sister was living. When I return to my time my parents will still be dead, but my sister will be living. I will do whatever it takes to return to her. She will not be lost to me." He turned fully to face Jane and saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. Darcy made to reach into his coat pocket for a handkerchief when he remembered that he was not given the chance to put on his coat.

"If nothing else," Jane told him with a watery smile, "Georgiana is blessed with a great brother." Darcy gave a return smile in thanks for her sincere praise. He looked over her shoulder a minute to see Elizabeth and Charlie in an argument. Charlie pulled out some small strange black rectangle and stared at it a few minutes. Darcy looked at Jane in askance and she turned to see what he was looking at. With both their attention focused on the other pair, they were able to hear the next sentence.

"Damn, you're right," Charlie said. Darcy paled slightly before turning slightly red with anger.

"Did you just swear in the presence of a woman?"


Elizabeth's POV

"Jane," Charlie said at last, turning to her. "This may be difficult to believe, but we believe that Darcy is not from our time." Jane looked into Charlie's eyes and a frown marred her face.

"Is this really the time for one of your jokes? Did you really call me down here just for this attempt at humor?" Charlie and Elizabeth traded glances, not quite prepared for this reaction. They really hadn't known what to expect, but they had at least thought they would be taken a bit more seriously.

Elizabeth, Charlie and Jane, though they could not be closer as friends, had very different views on the world. Charlie saw the world in black and white with a few shades of gray in between; while Elizabeth never thought anything could be defined with black and white and chose instead to use hundreds of shades of gray. Jane was very different from her sister. In a world of black and white, Jane chose only to see the white. She would only see the good in people or situations, but this angelical view came at a price. Jane also had a hard time accepting things beyond her understanding.

"Jane, he's telling the truth. Darcy is not from our time." Elizabeth said a little desperately. They had to make Jane understand.

"What exactly does, 'not from our time' mean?"

"It means, Darcy is from the early 19th century."

"1811 to be exact," Darcy cut in. Elizabeth glared at him. He was not exactly helping.

"That is impossible!" Jane took a few steps back from them and tensed her shoulders in a way that both Charlie and Elizabeth recognized as defensive.

"It's true, Jane. Darcy," Elizabeth turned to Darcy and began questioning him about very common things that were not invented or known about until after his time, "what is a computer? Or a telephone? Can you tell me who Walt Disney, Hitler, Lincoln or Elvis were?" His blank stare was exactly what she had been expecting. He could not possibly know any of those things.

"Harry Potter? The Lord of the Rings?" Charlie saw what she was doing and began his own line of questioning. It was easy to see the confusion and frustration on Darcy's face. Elizabeth glanced over at Jane to make sure she was watching. Surly this was enough proof.

"IPods? Laptops? The Beatles? CDs? DVDs? Blu rays? Soda? Coca cola? Pepsi? Hershey's? The internet?" Elizabeth and Charlie alternated questions, playing off the other's.

"How about cell phones?" Elizabeth thought that after this question her point had been made. She turned to speak with Jane almost as soon as she finished the question, but Darcy startled her by answering it.

"Those strange boxes that Charlie and Jane were speaking into?" Elizabeth whipped her head around to send Charlie a look, silently asking if he had told him. His expression of confusion told her that he hadn't.

"How did you know that," Elizabeth and Charlie both demanded of Darcy, not realizing they had spoken in unison.

"I told him," Jane spoke up again finally in a quiet voice. Elizabeth's eyes darted to Jane's face and she was pleased to see some indecision in Jane's face. Perhaps they could convince her after all.

"What is electricity?" Jane turned her own question on Darcy. Elizabeth shook her head minutely. She had given Darcy the answer to this one yesterday, but surly he did not remember it.

"It is a form of energy caused by the movement of…" he trailed off and Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath. He had remembered a great deal more than she thought he would have, but he would not get the last of it; of that she was sure."Electrons?" Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. He certainly had a good memory. How was it possible that he could remember that when he had not only been emotionally and mentally exhausted but also just this morning having written off the entire day as a dream.

"I was almost beginning to believe you—" Elizabeth could not let Jane continue.

"I told him that."

"Who is the president of the United States, then?" Elizabeth shot a look at Charlie who shrugged his shoulders. It seemed Jane would not give up.

"Madison I believe. John Madison? James? Jack?" If nothing else, this had to prove that they were telling the truth.

"James Madison died over a hundred and fifty years ago." Jane's voice was still quiet, but there was a slight challenge in her tone.

"Impossible, I read an article about him just four days ago." Elizabeth smirked slightly.

"Four days ago you were two hundred years in the past." Elizabeth said, shrugging her shoulders a little.

"Darcy," Jane again commanded his attention, "how many states—or colonies—are there in the US?" Elizabeth looked over at Jane sideways. Colonies?

"Fifteen I do believe." Elizabeth bit her lip and smothered a giggle. He was only off by thirty-five.

"There are fifty."

"Do you believe us now, Jane?" Elizabeth was aware she was almost pleading with Jane to believe them, but she wanted Jane's help and needed her support.

"It is too fantastic. I can't believe it. Not without more solid proof. I'm sorry." Jane was going to walk away, Elizabeth knew it. Apparently so did Charlie because he grabbed his girlfriend's arm and steered her towards the portrait of Darcy.

"How about this for proof?" Jane looked up and instantly let out a miniscule gasp and her body tensed. She cast many glances between the picture and Darcy, indecision clear in her face.

"What else can we use for proof," Elizabeth whispered to Charlie. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Literature maybe?"

"Yeah, but it's too easy to find an author he wouldn't know, let's try one he would." Charlie nodded.

"Who was writing then?"

"Jane Austen."

"He wouldn't know Austen."

"He's read Persuasion, he'd have to know who Jane Austen is!" Elizabeth argued.

"But her name never actually appeared on the books until after she died. They were always written by 'A Lady'."

"That's true," Elizabeth conceded, "and Bronte is too new as well. What about Emily Dickenson?" By now, neither Elizabeth nor Charlie knew or cared that they had lost both Jane and Darcy's attention. They were lost in their own discussion.

"Late 1800s. How about Elizabeth Gaskell?"

"1850s and later. Tolstoy?"

"1860s." Charlie paused. It was not that he could not think of another author, Elizabeth knew they could keep going in this way for quite some time. Rather, he was contemplating something. "I've got it, Dickens!"

"Nope, Darcy wouldn't have heard of him."

"Yes, he was writing in the early 1800s." Elizabeth shook her head at him.

"Dickens wasn't born until 1812." Charlie was about to disagree, but instead he pulled out his iPod and opened an internet browser. With a few deft movements he loaded 'Charles Dickens' into the search engine. He opened the first link and the first thing that he saw was the picture. Scrolling down, Charlie quickly found the information he was looking for.

February 7th, 1812 - June 9th, 1870

"Damn, you're right," Charlie said, shaking his head.

"Did you just swear in the presence of a woman?"


I'm trying to create a more flawed Jane, because in most stories she is made more or less perfect. Actually I'm trying to make all my characters flawed in some ways, but mostly Jane.