Twenty Months

by Alicia Rogers

  Crippled with a sudden wave of nausea Darcy vomited what little he ate that day into a nearby toilet bowl.

  "Have I come at a bad time?" Mr. Bennet teasingly asked.

  "Sean?" Darcy groaned, retching once again and spat the rest of the bile in his mouth into the toilet's disgustingly murky water.

  "Mmm-hmm," he answered casually. "I figured you might need to talk about a few things. Don't worry I'll wait for you to flush. In fact I encourage it."

  The hand Darcy used to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow crashed down on the lever, and he shouted above the noise of working pipes, "Do you mind very much if I stay in here for a minute? I'm not feeling so hot."

  "Not at all; I'm sure the janitor would appreciate your consideration for his floors."

  That got a chuckle out of Darcy as he slumped against the stall. "I'm guessing you want to offer some first time father advice? All I got out of Richard was 'kiss your sex life goodbye'."

  "Not exactly, but I can do that as well," Sean said. "Let's see…a good suit to a baby is a walking target – have a rag on you at all times. Even if he's slept soundly, and you've changed him twenty times, and fed him at all appropriate intervals, he will still have a day where he cries for no foreseeable reason, and you'll need to invest in the patience to wait it out. Always trade diaper duties, and never let him sleep in your bed – it's more possible to maintain a sex life without a hand smacking you in the face or a foot kicking you in the ribs, and even if you're into that sort of thing, you want it to be your wife doing the hitting. Let him fall; kids are resilient and he'll bounce right back up. There'll be lots of bruises and scrapes, so the only time you should panic at the sight of blood is if it looks like a murder scene."

  Smiling Darcy asked, "Anything else?"

  "Last one, children are a lot smarter than they tend to be given credit for. They pick up on things quite easily, such as animosity between their parents."

  "I've hard that," Darcy said glumly and drew his knees up to his chest.

  "There was a period where Janie and Charlotte began screening Lizzie's calls, and she told me about your arrangement," Sean told him. "I must confess I found the whole thing too amusing to be angry over. It also helped that I liked you."

  Darcy hesitated. "Liked?"

  "Well, I'll put it this way, Fitzwilliam," Sean started as he sat down on the floor with his back to the stall's entrance, "it's quite easy to bond in a waiting room, especially after twelve hours. Charles and your cousin were eager to talk and there were only so many Where's Waldo puzzles I could do before I wanted to scream at that striped-sweater wearing bastard for frequenting such crowded places. The three of us had a nice, long talk about why Lizzie was so adamant about keeping you out of the room for the birth; they told me all about your Auntie's…salmon crepes."

  Darcy couldn't even muster the strength to wince. "Oh," he numbly replied.

  "'Oh' is right." The light, playful tone in Mr. Bennet's voice hadn't disappeared completely instead it took on an edge that was nothing short of menacing. "Now, I spent my teenage years and a good bit of my twenties fighting, and I've prided myself on becoming a rather peaceful bloke in my old age, but I came in here with every intention of breaking your face. However, I'm a 'benefit of the doubt' kind of guy and if you're willing to give me your side, I'm willing to listen."

  "It's crap, really."

  "That's okay; most excuses for dumb behavior tend to be."

  Taking a deep breath, Darcy mentally prepared himself for the shot to the face that was sure to come when he reached the end of his tale. "You know how they say the first impression means everything?"

  "Sure."

  "Well with Lizzie and I it turned out to be the second. She shows up to my office absolutely soaking wet – I mean, fragile and shivering, and naturally I'm taken aback, but I'm also struck with this strange urge to take care of this girl, and you know what she does?" He paused to let a weary smile curl on his lips, "She bites my head off. That's the moment I became hers – totally and completely, and I do what any boy with crush would do; I say something utterly fucking stupid. Despite this, Lizzie agrees to enter into this deal and there we are – the girl who's bound to a man she can't stand the sight of for nearly two years and the man who's attracted to the woman that can't stand the sight of him. I won't lie, my pride took a beating those first few months with Lizzie; I desperately wanted to see her as nothing more than a business deal. I figure if I say it out loud enough my heart will catch up with my brain, and I'll no longer care what she thinks, or feels, or…"

  Trailing off, Darcy tightly shut his eyes and clenched his teeth forcing down the ball of emotion that was holed up in his chest. "We get in an argument over my sister, and I insult her. Basically telling her, her opinion doesn't matter when she's absolutely right about my not being fair to Georgie. Lizzie doesn't to speak to me for a good two weeks, and I'm practically a wreck. I can't truly talk to Charles or Richard because I can't even admit I'm falling for her to myself, and that's when my ex calls. I sleep with Eva to make myself feel better; I'm thinking it'll give me perspective, like "This is the type of woman that's worth being hung up on. Not some waitress. Not some one night stand", but of course that doesn't work and I'm regretting my behavior long before the act is even over. I knew my and Lizzie's contract was now null and void, but I couldn't let her go; I married her hoping that one day she could love me back. I was selfish and stupid, and don't worry, I'll hold perfectly still and let you break my face."

  Sean remained quiet for a while before he said, "I'll never, for the life of me understand why you kids insist on sticking to this 'well it's love so make it hurt' philosophy. I never had the bloody patience to make everything ridiculously complicated." He chuckled, "If a boy even looks at my youngest the wrong way they're a mess for months on end, and Lizzie's always had a knack for fixer uppers."

  Darcy laughed, wiping away the few tears that had escaped with the sleeve of his shirt.

  "You're the only one with any real potential," Sean said warmly. "One of them was a drummer for fuck's sake." Pausing thoughtfully he added, "Yes, they're all quite keen on being crossed in love, except for Janie. That girl couldn't go thirty minutes without telling Charlie she ate the last bit of his Cap'n Crunch or else she'd get the shakes, so I don't think those two will do anything to muck up the waters."

  "If Charles and Jane weren't so goddamn honest and genuine, I'd hate their guts." Darcy smiled. "I'll settle for being incredibly jealous over what they have together."

  "You and Lizzie could easily have what they have."

  Darcy snickered, "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

  "I never kid," Sean deadpanned. "You want what Charlie and Jane have – it's simple, communicate. I get the impression that you're more of a fan of taking every emotion you have and locking it away than you are of hugging and kissing, and sharing and growing. If you'd acknowledged what you feel for Lizzie sooner, you wouldn't have slept with your ex. If you'd acknowledged how much you were hurting over your father's death, then there wouldn't have been any pictures of you stumbling out of a night club at three in the morning for me to see. I don't think you need a broken face, Fitzwilliam, just a good therapist; or, maybe a father-in-law that'll lend an ear when you want it."

  "And what should I do about Lizzie?" Darcy solemnly asked.

  "You should give her time. If she loves you as much as I think she does, she won't stay mad forever."

  Rising to his feet Darcy brushed off his pants, breathed in deeply and let the air back out slowly. It would take a lot of time and even more effort to shake off the habit of bottling everything up, but if spilling his guts meant never having to walk around with the weight of a heavy heart or conscience he'd try his best to 'hug and kiss, share and grow'.

  "And now here comes hard part," Darcy said as he and Sean left the restroom. "I'm sure she won't feel up to talking about this tonight."

  "So you'll wait until she does," Sean said, "and you won't dri
ve yourself crazy. But, just in case, we're deleting the numbers of any ex-girlfriends you might have and padlocking your liquor cabinet."

  "Look who it is; it's the proud papa himself!"

  The sight of a smirking Daniel Wickham kicked back in one of the waiting room chairs stopped Darcy cold in his tracks. Wickham was on his feet in an instant heading towards the two men with insincere well wishes rolling off of his tongue.

  "I can't believe it – I just can't believe Fitzwilliam Darcy actually reproduced," he laughed clamping a hand down on Darcy's shoulder. "What is the world coming to, huh?" Turning to Mr. Bennet he added, "You must be Lizzie's dad. How does it feel to be a grandpa?"

  Sean eyed his son-in-law carefully before replying. "It feels very nice, thank you."

  "I'm a friend of the family," Wickham said thrusting his hand into Sean's. "The name's Daniel, it's nice to meet you."

  Sean nodded in return and said to Darcy, "I'll see you back in the room."

  "Inquiring minds want to know, Darce – is it a bouncing baby boy or girl?" Wickham asked once they were alone.

  "What are you doing here?" Darcy growled at him.

  "I'm here to give my most heartfelt congratulations to you and Lizzie, of course. You know, I was going to send a card, but that felt so impersonal." Wickham snickered, "When do I get to see the fruit of your loins?"

  "You'll see him sometime just shy of fucking never and not if my life depended on it." Darcy glared.

  Wickham 'tsked' with a shake of his head. "God, Darcy you're always so dramatic. I figured with Lizzie in your life you'd forget all about my past transgressions and we could get back to being pals." He brought a hand to his heart and tried his best to look wounded. "You and your grudge holding."

  Darcy's voice was stern. "Am I gonna have to call security or are you gonna leave quietly?"

  "No, no," Wickham held up his hands feigning innocence, "I'm not here to cause a scene or to see your kid, really, though I'm sure he's all kinds of precious and cherubic. I came here to do you a favor."

  "Is that right?" Darcy sniggered quirking his brow.

  "Mmm-hmm. You see, Darcy despite my forever losing your good opinion, I still think of you as a brother. This is an exciting time for you and Lizzie, and I wouldn't want anything to ruin that."

  "And what could you possibly do for me?"

  Leaning in close with a nasty smile on his face, he whispered into Darcy's ear, "I just think it would be terrible if the press found out your marriage is a sham. I know you could handle the gossiping, but Lizzie? She's their Cinderella; think of how quickly they'd turn on her if they found out she was bought and paid for with the Darcy billions."

  Shouting, Darcy snatched Wickham by the collar of his shirt. "You son of a bitch!"

  "Five hundred thousand keeps my mouth shut and your little family intact." Pausing Wickham added with a shrug, "Well at least until your contract runs out, I suppose."

  "You can't prove anything; you could shout it to every journalist in the country until your lungs collapsed, but all it would amount to is nasty accusations."

  "That would be correct…if your secretary wasn't so eager to please," he chuckled. "Sarah's a nice girl, but you should probably explain to her what confidentiality forms mean."

  Reeling from shock Darcy let him go and Wickham took the opportunity to straighten out his shirt. "I've got your world at my fingertips, Darce and unless you want to see it all played out on The Smoking Gun, I'd suggest you cut me a check."

  He was practically shaking with anger. "Fine," Darcy bit out. "When do you want it?"

  "I'll call you with the details." Wickham beamed from ear to ear and said almost as an afterthought, "Oh and congratulations again. Hey, if she loses the baby weight, tell Lizzie to give me a call once you've cut her free."

  At that, the grip Darcy had on his temper dissolved completely and his fist connected hard with Wickham's nose. He ignored the cries of pain from his former best friend, briefly focused on how fucking wonderful it felt (ache in his knuckles aside), and turning on his heel Darcy got the last word in:

  "Next time Danny, send a card."

  * * *

  By the time he reached them the Bennets were shuffling out of the NICU. Congratulations were again offered up alongside supportive hugs from Jane and Mrs. Bennet (Lydia's brand of 'support' came in the form of pinching his butt cheeks) while Sean had a firm handshake and the words "Wait it out" to give him.

  Lizzie glanced in his direction when Darcy entered the room, but said nothing and quickly turned her attention back on their son.

  "How're you doing?" he said and instantly regretted it; the greeting sounded even stupider out loud than it had in his head.

  "I'm wonderful," she told him dryly, "and you?"

  "Lizzie…"

  She cut him off, "There's a conversation brewing on the horizon here that I'm not up to having right this moment, so before we get into that let's stick to happier territory."

  "I can do happy," Darcy said relieved.

  "Okay, well – names; any serious suggestions from your end, because I don't think Cadence Ariel will really grow with him and is that blood on your shirt?"

  He followed her eye line directly to the crimson splotches staining his white polo. "Yeah, but it's not mine," was his nonchalant reply.

  "Oh, okay," Lizzie said with a puzzled look.

  Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, Darcy fished out a quarter. "We'll do this fair and square; heads you pick the first name, tails I do and we both get one veto if we don't like it."

  "Alright." she nodded.

  The coin flipped through the air and Darcy quickly caught it slapping it down onto the back of his hand. "Heads." he smiled.

  "I can't reasonably take credit for this – it all goes to Kit and she'll gloat about it for the rest of her life, but I'm liking Owen." When she didn't get a response right away Lizzie said, "I know it's a dreaded 'en' name, but I thought I'd throw it out there anyway. You can always veto."

  "No, no I like it," Darcy said softly. "Actually, it fits with what I had in mind."

  "Giving 'Fitzwilliam' a second go around?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

  "Not this time," he shook his head. "How do you feel about his middle name being Marcus?" Darcy shuffled nervously running his fingers through his hair. "It was my dad's name; I haven't done much to make him proud this year, but this…he would've been so excited to meet Owen."

  "And if I vetoed?" Lizzie couldn't help chuckling.

  "Oh like you're really gonna turn down the orphan's request to name his first born after his dead father," Darcy said with a plaintive smile.

  "I would if your dad's name was something ridiculous like Ezekiel or Jim Bob, but Owen Marcus Darcy sounds perfect to me." Smile fading, Lizzie said, "I was talking to Jane and Charlotte earlier, and when I get the 'Ok' to leave, I'm going to move back into my old room for a while."

  Darcy swallowed. "How long is a while?"

  "I was thinking when he comes home that Owen can stay with me through the week and spend the weekends with you."

  "Well, I guess that answers that question," he laughed hollowly.

  She let out a heavy sigh, "If you need me to show up anywhere and put on a good face, I'll do it…"

  "I don't want an act out of you, Lizzie!"

  "Really? Then tell me what the hell we've been doing all this time!" she shouted. "Did you honestly think I would just let you whisk me back to the Hills and continue to play house with you?" Her voice broke with emotion as she furiously blinked back tears. "This whole thing started out as an act and there's no reason why it shouldn't end as one."

  With a loud sniff and a final wipe at her eyes, Lizzie forced any and all traces of emotion off of her face, and Darcy knew he wouldn't get another word out of her on the subject – at least not tonight. Deep down he was certain the past few months they'd spent together weren't the product of a contract, or of loneliness, or of Lizzie trying to prove herself to be a first
rate actress; all of those moments between them were the result of real, genuine feelings, and he wasn't about to let her anger over his fuck up persuade him otherwise.

  So when he remained tight-lipped and only answered her with a curt nod, it wasn't a sign that he was going to lock his feelings away and cover them up with a string of bad decisions. No, Darcy intended on giving Lizzie all the time she needed, and when she came back to him, he would be a stronger, better man.

  Chapter 32

  Dance, Little Liar. An interlude.

  They'd met under the most clichéd set of shady-deals circumstances; Danny had gone out of his way to pick an alley in Santa Monica that fit all of the criteria of some Bogart noir – sparse lighting, feral cats, and overflowing dumpsters – and though it was an unseasonably chilly April day, his peacoat with its upturned collar in addition to being a tad too heavy for the California weather, gave off definite 'try-hard' fumes.

  He casually leaned against the grimy brick wall and in the low-wattage of the street lamp Wickham could make out the sour expression on the approaching Darcy's face.

  A brown, leather briefcase was hoisted into his waiting arms and Danny regarded his unhappy companion with a quizzical brow. "What, no hello? How're ya? Just getting straight to business? Manners, Fitzwilliam, manners," he chided sarcastically.

  "It's all there, but you can count it if you want," Darcy gruffly responded.

  "I intend to," Danny told him with a perfunctory nod. "You know, I don't like leaving things this way, Fitzie – all of this animosity between us…"

  "Then perhaps you shouldn't have slept with my fiancé and then extorted half a million out of me."

  Wickham grinned. "Well, I can't argue with that. But, give it a few years and we'll be laughing over this, I'm sure." He placed a friendly hand on Fitzwilliam's shoulder and told him with all the sincerity of a snake, "Take care, and give Lizzie a kiss for me."