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When Jane calls, Lizzie is confused.
“Another fitting? What did you do, lose another five pounds from the stress of keeping Mom away from the seating chart?” she quips, only the tiniest bit jealous. (The stress of being the maid of honor to practically perfect Jane Bennet hasn't exactly made her lose weight.)
Jane laughs softly. “No, quite the opposite. And be nice to Mom, Lizzie, this is exciting for her too.”
Lizzie can't help rolling her eyes at William who is watching from over his morning newspaper, clearly amused.
“Yes, well, don't indulge her too much. You're laying the groundwork here, you know. Do it for your sisters!” she ends dramatically, shaking a fist at the ceiling.
And then remembers:
“Wait, what...the opposite?! Jane, what are you...”
“Lizzie...”
She can practically hear the smile in her sister's voice and suddenly she knows what's coming before her sister can even say a word.
“I might have to go for the empire waistline after all. We're pregnant.”
Lizzie is at a loss for words, a hundred jokes about their mother having a heart attack at the news on the tip of her tongue, but for once, she doesn't really have it in her to be sarcastic. The thought of becoming an aunt warms her insides and hearing the smile in Jane's voice makes it very hard not to squeal. (So she does. Loudly.)
The next part is a flurry of excitement and congratulations, the couple on the other end of the line clearly overjoyed by the news. The sound of Jane's happy sighs and Bing being practically reduced to tears, makes Lizzie's heart swell with love. She could not be happier for those two love-struck idiots.
Intrigued by the commotion, William is leaning over the receiver now, trying to decipher the blubbering sounds on the other end. He eyes her questioningly.
“Jane's pregnant”, Lizzie mouths happily.
The way a shaky smile blooms over his face at the realization makes her almost nauseous with butterflies. He reaches for her hand and gives it a tight squeeze before yelling his congratulations over the noise from the phone. After everything, somehow this is what really gets her. In the end, it's not so much Jane's elation or Bing's overflowing tears that make her choke up and her eyes sting, but Will's hand in hers and the uncharacteristically giddy smile on his face.
Jane looks beautiful on her wedding day, glowing with happiness and her little baby bump just barely noticeable under the heaps of white silk.
It's early June and though the day was warm and sunny, now that the sun is starting to set, the air is cooling noticeably by the minute. A light breeze picks up and billows Lizzie's jade bridesmaid dress around her hips, the lanterns in the trees swaying lightly and illuminating the couples on the dance floor beautifully. She is watching Jane and Bing dance song after song together from her place under a large old oak tree and a slow smile creeps over her face, remembering another wedding from what seems like a whole different lifetime.
Luckily for her, at least this time around, the bride was kind enough not to throw the bouquet directly at Lizzie's face - not that it would have mattered much anyway, considering the way Lydia practically dived in front of everyone to catch it.
William, however, the poor guy, had no such luck. Even though he was standing as far away from the clump of bachelors as humanly possible without offending Mrs Bennet (she had, after all, literally shoved him onto the floor), Bing still somehow managed to hit him square in the chest with the garter. Again.
He didn't even have the decency to look sorry, she heard him mumble while he was being dragged away to the dance floor by Lydia, Probably some ploy to get in his in-laws' good books.
Lizzie can't help the smile that spreads over her face at the thought of her sister and her boyfriend laughing together as they swayed on the spot awkwardly, William's chin only ever so slightly retreating back into his neck whenever he became aware of the eyes following their every move, before another dramatic twirl of Lydia's would pull him back into the moment.
As she watches Bing not-so-subtly caressing Jane's belly, she lays her own hands onto her stomach. Stuffed with raspberry-chocolate cake, but otherwise still as flat as can be expected after several days of wedding cake-sampling. She breathes in and blows her belly out as far as it will go, giving her a bump not unlike the one Jane is sporting. She holds her breath and spreads her fingers out over the roundness and lets herself imagine, just for a second, what it would feel like to have an actual human being growing inside her. Lizzie has never been particularly maternal, never one of those girls who knew for certain that they wanted to be a mother, so she's surprised at the sudden warmth that spreads through her at the thought. It makes her lightheaded, giddy even.
She slowly lets out the breath she's been holding and starts to wonder at this newfound revelation when she feels someone coming up behind her. She doesn't need to turn around to know who it is. Ever since Pemberley Digital, she has been feeling an eerily gravitational pull towards him whenever he is in the room, as if her body had known long before her mind did that this was not just some man she could easily disregard.
He puts his arms around her from behind and rests his chin lightly on the top of her head.
“Are you cold?” he inquires softly while pressing a light kiss to her hairline.
Sighing happily, Lizzie burrows back into his warmth. “Not anymore.”
She more feels than hears him mumble his assent, the vibrations making her skin tingle.
They are silent for a moment, watching the couples sway slowly to the bits of soft music drifting towards them, enjoying the quietness of the moment.
“Do you remember the Gibson wedding? I can't believe I didn't see it back then. They truly are utterly perfect for each other”, he muses, following Lizzie's line of vision to where Jane and Bing are still swaying slowly on the dance floor.
Lizzie smiles warmly. “I was just thinking about that day. How some things could not be further from what they were then.”
She can feel his chuckle reverberating through her skull. “Well, I did still manage to partake in the most awkward dance ever.”
Lizzie lets out a small burst of laugh and pats his hand reassuringly.
“Aw, no, that wasn't so bad. You have certainly upped your game since that fateful day, Mister. Lydia sure seemed to enjoy herself.”
“Yes, well, your sister is much too joyful to let my robotic tendencies spoil her fun. She...makes it easy.”
“Which I never did”, Lizzie grins and pokes him in the upper arm playfully.
He laughs. “No, you certainly didn't. But, as they say, nothing in this world worth having comes easy”, he murmurs into her ear and lightly kisses her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine.
“I'm glad you didn't give up on me then. And I'm glad you and Lydia had fun”, she whispers happily and snuggles a little closer into his warm chest.
“Me too”, he replies softly and Lizzie can feel his smile against the top of her head.
Sometimes, she is still amazed to learn how much he has come to care for her sisters, how he seems to see them as part of his extended family. Spurred on by the thought, she puts her hands over his that are resting on her lower hips and inches them a bit higher, letting them rest on her stomach, fingers intertwined. She takes a breath and holds it for a second longer than absolutely necessary. The way her heart skips a beat makes it hard to focus on anything else than the feeling of his large hands spread out over her now slightly protruding belly, so she has to actively remind herself to breathe out.
The way he smiles against her ear and presses a kiss to that spot right under her jaw makes her clamp her mouth shut in order to keep the butterflies from tumbling out.
When she drags him with her to go shopping for Jane's baby shower, she is mesmerized by the way he fingers all the tiny little socks as if he can't believe there could ever be a human being small enough to fit those. While he seems to be happy just to revel in the sheer tinyness of everything surrounding them, she wanders off to actually do some gift-shopping. When she spots a pair of little blue suspenders, her hands go out automatically before she stops herself. There are yellow ducks on them, wearing tiny red bowties.
She quickly buries her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans. She knows it's selfish, but suddenly she can't bear the thought of holding a baby wearing those suspenders that isn't theirs, doesn't have William's eyes staring up at her, his smile, his adorable shyness.
She sneaks a glance over at her boyfriend examining a blue onesie with bright pink elephants on it with brows furrowed deep in thought and giggles at his serious expression.
Nope, definitely not getting those suspenders for Jane and Bing.
(She lays awake that night, so she comes back the next morning to buy them and buries them in a pair of old woollen socks at the back of her sockdrawer.)
When a book of baby names comes in the mail, she laughs it off and kisses his confused frown away, reminding him to never, ever take anything her mother says or does too seriously.
She does however thumb through the pages surreptitiously that evening in bed, while he is still in the shower, quickly shoving it beneath her pillow when she hears the water turn off.
She lies awake when Will is already snoring lightly beside her, trying the names out on her tongue and, smiling at the way modern names clash with the more classical Darcy, softly whispers them into the quiet air of their bedroom.
Sometimes, when her phone rings to remind her it's time to take her birth control pills, her fingers hover over the screen, tempted to turn the reminder off for good and let her subconscious decide. She never does though.
Mostly because she is pretty sure that it will look more like deliberately going off the pill (her subconscious has not been very subtle about what it wants, if those dreams that now come regularly are any indication). And as much as her fingers itch, she doesn't want to make such an important decision without him.
It's early Sunday morning when the baby finally comes. They have been sitting on uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room of the hospital ever since Bing called them in a panic at two in the morning. It's Will's first day off from work in two weeks and Lizzie is a bit concerned as she contemplates the dark circles under his eyes, but when Bing appears in the doorway, practically speechless with joy, his dimples appear out of nowhere and the laughter in his eyes makes him look years younger. He squeezes Lizzie's hand really tight and she starts to cry.
That night in bed, Lizzie feels like she might burst open with joy. It bubbles up inside her until she erupts in giggles. William is wearing his reading glasses, which always makes her want to take them right off and kiss him senseless (which might be the reason he wears them to bed every night, without fail) and he quirks an eyebrow at her sudden outburst.
“Did I miss something?” he asks and ghosts his hand up her arm, leaving goosebumps behind. The thought of how he can still do that to her after two years of dating, sobers her up instantly. She rolls over on her side so she can rest her hand on his chest and look up at him.
“I want one.”
The look on her face makes him finally put his book aside.
“What?”
Lizzie takes a deep breath and forces out a quivering smile.
“I want a baby. With you.”
She can almost see the wheels in his head turning, the way his eyes widen slightly in panic and his chin threatens to retreat back into his neck as a remainder of days long past.
“I, uh....that's not...I don't...” he starts to stammer and Lizzie abruptly sits up.
He's saying no.
Her face is on fire, she cannot believe what she is hearing.
William seems to pick up on the panic rising up inside her, because he rests a soothing hand on her knee.
“Lizzie, please. Let me...explain.”
He tries to find her eyes but she won't look at him. He gently takes her chin in his hand and tips it up, so there's no other way to go than his pleading eyes.
“Please.”
Lizzie nods slowly, still too mortified to trust her voice.
“I...this is not how...” he stops himself again, takes a deep breath and starts anew.
“Lizzie Bennet, I love you. So much. And nothing would make me happier than starting a family with you but please let me do this my way. My mother would never forgive me if I didn't do things in the right order and at least make an honest woman out of you before I, well...impregnate you with her grandchild.”
Lizzie can't help but laugh at his impish smile even though her heart feels as if it might just burst out of her ribcage.
William kisses the knuckles of her left hand and gets up from the bed, leaving Lizzie looking rather confused as he makes his way to the dresser. He opens the sock drawer and rummages around it for a while, a concentrated frown on his face. With a triumphant smile, he finally produces an old pair of tennis socks that she cannot believe he hasn't already thrown out. She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she realizes just how oddly similar their minds work.
The laughter on her lips quickly turns into hiccups as he unwraps a blue velvet box from his socks and her eyes begin to sting at the implication.
“William Darcy, please do not tell me those are earrings” she manages through the tears that are pooling rapidly now.
The boyish smile on his face nearly undoes her. He is definitely enjoying himself right now.
“I can assure you, they are not”, he chuckles as he once again joins her on the bed, reaching out a hand to swipe at the tears on her cheek with his thumb.
“My dearest Lizzie, I will most definitely, with the greatest pleasure, give you a baby if that is what you want. But please, old-fashioned as it may be, before we do that, I want everyone to know that we are a family. That my heart will always belong to you and you alone. Elizabeth Bennet, please, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Sighing happily, Lizzie reaches forward gingerly to take his glasses off (wouldn't want them lost in the battle, right?).
“Absolutely, yes”, she hiccups through her tears and seeing his mouth stretch wide in the goofiest grin she has ever witnessed on him, she lunges forward to capture his lips between her own.
On their wedding night, after she has slipped off her heels and devoured the piece of wedding cake she has made him promise to save her just in case (and everyone was right, the bride really never gets to eat at her own wedding) and before she lets her brand new husband take her to bed, she has one last wedding present for him.
She firmly holds his gaze as she unceremoniously drops her birth control pills in the hotel wastebasket, all the while grinning like a lunatic. The emotion blazing in his eyes at the gesture makes her turn all warm and tingly inside. He crosses the distance between them in three quick strides and has already unbuttoned half of her wedding dress when she finally turns the reminder on her phone off for good.
There is nothing subconscious about it.
The first time she thinks she might be, she runs out to the pharmacy and buys five different brands of tests, just to make sure. She doesn't need to, she gets her period before she has the chance to use even one of them. This time, her sock drawer is not big enough to hold this secret and anyway, they are in this together now, good and bad, so she stuffs them in the cabinet over the sink and tries not to cry when he looks at her with a hopeful little smile when he finds them that evening while brushing teeth. His whisperings of these things take time into her hair as he holds her are perfectly rational, but she doesn't miss the glimmer in his eyes when he finally lets her go.
They are in this together now.
She has been running legitimately out of options when one glorious day, the stick finally displays that second line she's been wishing for so badly. She has been rotating between the various pharmacies in their neighborhood for months now and someone's bound to notice. After that first mass purchase, she has decided that buying more than one test at once is a bad omen. After all, she doesn't plan on needing more than one.
But she doesn't like the way the look of the cashier dissolves into pity over the months. So she rotates.
She waits until he's lying in bed, his glasses on, already focused on the financial report of the month. She makes a big show of rummaging through the sock drawer until he takes off his glasses, amused by her antics. She wants him to witness this, wants him to have that realization she had all those months ago that oh, they really are two peas in a pod.
When she finally manages to unravel the tiny suspenders from her balled up socks, fingers trembling from anticipation, the financial report slips from William's fingers onto the floor, instantly forgotten. Her heart jumps at the way his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth forms a little surprised o. The obvious glee and anticipation on his face makes her eyes water rapidly as she moves towards him. They spill over as soon as she's sitting down on the bed next to him, reaching for his hands. She lays the suspenders into the palm of his right hand, then takes his left and puts their intertwined hands shakily on her still-too-flat belly.
She almost chokes on her words, doesn't need them anyway if the look of unadulterated joy on his face is anything to go on, but stumbles through them anyhow.
“I love you. Daddy.”
When she wakes up the next morning she is confused by the way the sun streams into the room. She turns around and there he is, lying on his side, fully clothed and grinning. The clock behind him tells her that he must have called in sick for work (for both of them, hopefully) and turned her alarm off to let her sleep in. In the space between them on the mattress lays a little blue checkered shirt with tiny heart-shaped buttons in pink. Lizzie reaches out a finger to trail the pattern on the soft fabric and glances up at her husband questioningly. He must have gotten up early to run out and buy it before she woke up. He grins one of those rare full-blown grins of his that make him look like a little boy and kisses her good morning, laying a hand on her belly (which, Lizzie noticed, is rapidly becoming one of his favorite pastimes).
“Just in case the first one is a girl.”