a/n: i was inspired by this fic i read where jane and darcy talk on their wedding day about what darcy did to seperate bingley and jane, and i thought "holy crap, what if they were friends?"
and then this story was born.
um, it's elizabeth/will and charlie/jane, in case you're wondering. :D
"Hey," Jane said breathlessly as she fell into the booth, across the table from him. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and she was breathing heavily due to the fact that she had just run two blocks from the apartment to the coffee shop. "Guess what?"
Will calmly raised his coffee mug in greeting, before bringing it up to his mouth and taking a nice long gulp. He leaned back in his seat. "What?"
"Um," Will pretended to think, taking another sip of his coffee. "No."
"Will, just guess, c'mon."
"Because I don't want to."
"You're such a killjoy, Will."
"You're too kind to me, Jane."
"Still not going to guess."
"Fine. But let the record note that you officially suck."
"Duly noted. So what's the big news?"
"Oh, right." Momentarily forgetting her best friend's lack of enthusiasm, Jane's eyes brightened again. "My sister's coming!"
In a moment of stupidity, he forgot to ask which one. In another, consequent moment of stupidity, he asked a stupid question instead.
"...to New York?"
"Yes, Will," Jane explained patiently, reaching across the table to pick up the coffee that he had already ordered for her. "To New York. Where we live."
Will blinked. "I thought you were going home?"
"I was planning on going home for the holidays, but then Mom and Dad called and said that they and Katelyn and Lydia were going to the UK to visit my aunt and uncle, and since she and I don't really want to spend our whole break with our five million cousins, I told her to just come here."
"Oh. Well, that's cool," he said weakly. "Ella's coming."
"I know right! We barely get any time to see each other anymore; it'll be great to be under the same roof for the two weeks."
Jane, unfortunately, didn't notice how not-great Darcy looked when she said "under the same roof."
Maybe if she had, the whole debacle could have been avoided.
Genevieve Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy had been best friends since their first meeting at Columbia eight years ago.
On the first day of lectures, they'd been put into the same class. Jane had been ridiculously early, and Will, in contrast, had gotten in thirty seconds before 9:00 AM. For some reason, the only seat available was the one next to Jane, and so Will had no choice but to take it, despite the fact that he'd much rather have been in the back of the lecture hall than front-and-center.
It worked out well, though, since they had bonded over their ridiculously outrageous names after the professor had called roll. After class, he had asked her out for coffee with the intention of getting into her pants, but she (very sweetly) shut him down and told him she had a boyfriend back home and she hoped he wouldn't be too offended if they could be just friends.
He wasn't too offended, and they'd ended up the best of friends.
Now, nearly a decade later, they were splitting the cost of a two-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side, very close to both Will's law firm, and Columbia-Presbyterian, where Jane was a surgical resident.
The one snag in their (very platonic) relationship, though, was Elizabeth Anne Bennet.
Lizzie was one year younger than Jane, and was the second oldest Bennet sister. As a second-year pre-law student, she'd been looking for opportunities to intern in New York City, where some of the best law firms in the country had been established, rather than in Palo Alto, where she went to school. Since Jane and Will were close, and Jane knew that Will's father was a senior partner at Bingley, Fitzwilliam, &Hurst, she had put them in touch with each other.
Three weeks in, Darcy's father had complimented her eagerness to learn, and Will, who had been overcome with something akin to jealously, had commented that his father only liked her because he thought that she was pretty and, if she ever ended up in their firm, she'd only been used for her looks.
He'd then gone on to add that he'd seen prettier girls than Elizabeth Bennet before, and she was nothing special. "Barely attractive, Dad," he'd said. "If even that."
It had gone on to bite him in the ass, because as the summer went on, he'd fallen in love with her. She hadn't put up with any of his attitude, and hadn't been nice to him just because he was the boss' son. In fact, she had gone out of her way to let him know just how much she hated him.
Maybe he was just masochistic, but the sight of her green eyes blazing at him, her cheeks flushed, and her overall frustration at him turned him on. It didn't help that whenever he saw her around other people, she was always smiling.
And she had a really beautiful smile.
He'd ended up confessing his feelings for her before she left, and she told him (not as sweetly as Jane had) that there was no chance in hell that they'd ever end up together.
In fact, her exact words had been, "You asshole. Why would you even assume, that after all the crap you've put me through this summer, I would even be remotely interested in you? There is no chance in hell that I will ever have feelings for you."
Needless to say, he hadn't talked to her much after that.
"Of course she's staying with us, Will. She's my sister; where else do you think she's going to go?"
"The Sheraton," he answered hastily. "And you should stay there, too. Take a mini-vacation."
"What? No!" Jane laughed. "That's expensive. And outrageous, for two weeks?"
"I'll pay," he offered. "Really, you deserve it."
"Deserve to be kicked out of my apartment?" She asked slowly, eyebrows furrowing.
"No," he said lamely. "Just...you deserve a vacation."
"Will," she said, realization dawning. "Why do you want me out of the apartment so bad?"
"I don't, Jane, why would you think that?"
"You're offering to pay for me to stay at the Sheraton for two weeks, Will. Over Christmas. You want me out, and you want me out, bad."
Will took a deep breath, fully intending to tell her the truth. "I invited Charlie Bingley to town since I thought you were leaving and now we're all going to have to live under one roof."
But then he chickened out and lied.
"Oh, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you...you bastard!"
Fuck he was in trouble.
Jane never cursed.
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