Chapter Text
Many unexpected things had happened to William Darcy in the past few days. He had grabbed the soonest flight he could from Chicago, spent two days in a hotel room anguishing over what to say to the girl he had hopelessly fallen in love with, and then showed up on her doorstep, unannounced, and she let him kiss her. A lot. Things he had done in a heartbeat that the William Darcy of a few months ago would have scoffed at.
Today had a few more unexpected things for him. One of them was finding the face of Lydia Bennet, pale and wide-eyed, staring at him when he opened the door to exit the bathroom.
“Oh!” She stumbled backward a bit. “I--sorry, I was--”
“Don’t apologize. Did you need to use the bathroom?”
“No, I…” Lydia kneaded her fingers together. She seemed smaller, skinnier than when he last saw her. That “energetic” spark wasn’t quite there. He realized it was the same look Gigi had, all those years ago. “I wanted to talk to you,” she finally blurted out.
“Oh?” His eyebrow returned to its normally arched position.
Lydia chewed her lip, her eyes briefly nervously flicking up to make eye contact. He was always so intimidating, with his perfectly combed hair and his flawlessly ironed shirt and his impeccably tied tie. But now, in a wrinkled T-shirt and with tousled hair, from a night with Lizzie no doubt, he wasn’t.
“I just...wanted to thank you.” Once the words started coming, they spilled out. “You just...you really didn’t have to I never thought anyone would do something like that for me and it’s just you don’t know how much it meant and I know you did it for Lizzie but it just--”
His hand on her arm stopped the word vomit. “I didn’t do it just for Lizzie.” A rare smile, but one that he found came more easily these days, appeared. “I’ve...been close to what you went through.”
Lydia offered a small smile in exchange. They didn’t come too often for her either lately, but they were returning. Darcinator wasn’t so bad. She wouldn’t mind if he stuck around.
“Good mornin’, William.” Darcy was greeted with a beaming smile and Mrs. Bennet’s Southern drawl as he went downstairs for breakfast with Lizzie. Her impression of her mother was really quite accurate. “I hope you enjoyed your night?” Mrs. Bennet grinned.
Lizzie groaned. “Don’t scare him away already, Mom.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped, offended, mock or not Darcy couldn’t quite tell. “I would do no such thing! Listen, William, don’t listen to Elizabeth here. Let me tell you…” Lizzie merely shook her head and poured a glass of orange juice. She was well-practiced in the art of tuning out Mrs. Bennet. Darcy supposed he would have to gain that skill too.
He simply smiled and nodded along, while Lydia tried to hide her smirks at his growing discomfort. A few minutes later, Mrs. Bennet was still going. “...now Lizzie, you don’t let this nice young man go, do you hear? I expect you to hold on to him. I know you have your ideas about love and all that, but I want--”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Mom. Darcy isn’t an object I can hold on to. Also he’s right here.”
“Well of course he is.” Mrs. Bennet flashed another wide smile at him. “But Lizzie darling, you--”
“Dad?” Lizzie was desperate to stop her mother from talking before Darcy really was scared away. “Are you gonna talk to us at all?”
Mr. Bennet flicked down the top half of his newspaper, and Darcy suddenly found clear blue eyes trained directly on him from above tortoiseshell rimmed glasses. Mr. Bennet’s gaze wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t too friendly either. Darcy swallowed hard.
“Young man, you’ve caused this family a lot of grief lately, directly or indirectly.”
Darcy nodded nervously. “I apologize, sir, but I--” But Mr. Bennet had already moved on, turning his gaze to Lizzie.
“As much as your mother would love for you to get married right now--” Mrs. Bennet giggled a little “--this isn’t a decision you should take lightly.”
Lizzie sighed. “Dad, we’re not even close--”
“I know, I know. But still. Are you sure about this?”
“Dad. He’s right here.”
Mrs. Bennet swatted her husband’s arm. “He’s right here, dear!”
But Mr. Bennet didn’t budge. “Are you sure?”
Lizzie glanced at Darcy and nodded, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Well then.” Mr. Bennet turned back to Darcy. “If my daughter thinks you’re good enough for her, then I think you are too.”
Lizzie’s hand found Darcy’s underneath the table and squeezed it. He always thought there was a pattern romantic relationships followed. You meet someone, ask them out, get to know each other, and meet the parents later. But here he was, feeling like he already knew Lizzie so well while he was still her adversary or boss or object of mockery. Here he was, having saved her family from its worst troubles because he couldn’t bear to see her beautiful eyes dimmed by tears. All before their romance had even begun, and now here he was, meeting her parents the day after. He supposed there was inevitable unconventionality when Lizzie Bennet was involved. It seemed to follow her like her shadow. But the past several months had taught him to appreciate unconventionality. For Lizzie, he could get comfortable with unconventionality.