a/n: this is for Sara as an early Valentine's present. Thanks for being there, boo.

Love is a dress that you made long to hide your knees;
love to say this to your face: "I'll love you only."

.:.

Stepping off the plane, Lizzie gives a small exhale of relief at the sight of Jane and Bing, waving at her together. Jane's smile lights up the entire room and Lizzie wonders what being that happy feels like, and she has to fight back images of a bow tie and an afro and warm smiles under the San Francisco sun.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in years," Lizzie laughs, hugging Jane tightly, breathing in her familiar vanilla scent. "I missed you so much."

Jane squeezes back, "I've missed you too! How was your flight?"

"Some kid behind me really wasn't happy they weren't playing Dora, but mostly it was fine." Suddenly she remembers an awkward looking Bing behind her sister and turns to give him a hug.

"Hey, Lizzie." He says gently. "I hope your studies are going well."

"Thanks, Bing. I mean, I should be graduating on time... then I just have to, you know, find a job." She says the words like she isn't panicked about it, but Jane probably sees straight through her.

They all pile into a taxi at the airport and she watches Jane and Bing carefully, though they don't even touch once, she can feel the love they both exude. It's nice, she thinks, to see Jane have a reason for happiness after months and months of being miserable.

Bing looks different as well, more relaxed, his shirt sleeves rolled up and hair a little tousled.

The ride to Bing and Jane's new joint apartment is quick and though she expects some place like Netherfield, she instead sees a modest building. Their living room is decorated with little knick knacks and soft pastel colors, the curtains are all sheer and delicate. However, it's the little signs of habitation that make her eyes prick - socks left under the coffee table, coats hung next to each other, and the shoes piled together at the door.

"This place is great!" Lizzie says honestly, taking in the homemade quilts Jane must've made since being here.

Jane blushes before leading her sister to the room she'll be staying in for the next few days. The walls are a yellow color that reminds Lizzie of sunflowers and honey, and the wide windows show her more of the city than she's ever seen before. She loves it, but she can't deny the swell of jealousy in her chest at the thought of what she could've had, if only she'd swallowed her pride.

It's warm out, the spring breeze lifts the curtains slightly and suddenly she wishes she was back where she belongs. She glances down at her phone, briefly considering calling GiGi or Fitz, but that would be breaking her promise to herself.

She'd caused enough damage, it was time to let the clean breaks heal on their own.

But mostly she sits in this foreign bedroom, staring out into the bright city custling with a million people, and she's certain she has never felt more lonely in her entire life.

.:.

It all climaxes over a cup of coffee in New York City, a thunderstorm brewing over their heads. Darcy is holding his warm cup rigidly, but his cheeks are flushed from the heat of the beverage and Lizzie can't seem to stop looking at him.

She's never been this far east before, and though she feels she prefers the bustling San Franciscan streets to these winding sidewalks in New York, there aren't nearly as many hills in this city.

"I'm really happy to see you," She says openly, which is kind of a new thing for her. The small smile she receives in return is enough to make her heart swell affectionately.

"I admit, I had hoped this would be your reaction... after your last few videos..." He trails off, letting go of his cup and extending one hand slowly then dropping it after a moments pause. "It taught me to hope where I seldom have in the past."

Of course, Lizzie's throat gets stuck at the kindness in his eyes. Those dark eyes that she once believed only held pride and cruelty. She can't help but let out a small laugh, somewhere between a giggle and a sob.

"Lizzie?" He asks, worriedly scanning her face.

"I've been so stupid for so long and I'm so sorry for how I treated you." She takes in a shuddering breath.

Shifting in his chair, Darcy places his extended hand against her cheek, "We are all fools in love."

And without realizing it, they're both laughing quietly, a stolen moment for just them in this city bubbling over with life and people. His fingers, still warm from his cup, don't leave her cheek for what seems like a lifetime and she sighs with contentment.

There is a split second where Lizzie feels ashamed she ever thought William Darcy could be anything other than this.

"I never understood why you were so nice to me after… well, everything." She finishes lamely, looking out the wide windows before her.

"I think perhaps it was because you're the first person in my life to treat me poorly." He chuckles. "I just couldn't resist."

She giggles back, "I wonder what that says about your psyche."

Darcy smiles in return, his fingers tapping on the table gently, eyes intensely focused on Lizzie's face. She wonders if she'll ever get to used to this intensity surrounding him, but as he sighs, she decides she already has.

"So where does this leave… us?" She reluctantly asks, resolving herself to look up into his eyes.

For a split second he sits blankly, but then his lips twitch into a smirk and he places his large palm over her slender fingers.

"Happy." He says evenly, flicking his gaze to her mouth.

.:.

There comes a morning when she wakes up in her new apartment and wonders where she is, but the momentary panic subsides when she hears the familiar crooning record coming from the kitchen.

Padding her way out of her room, she smells in the scent of waffles and has to push back a grin.

Sometime she will start collecting pictures of the big shot William Darcy in her mom's old flowered apron, standing barefoot in her little kitchen, intensely staring at various breakfast foods. She'll save them up as blackmail for GiGi.

"Do you only own three records, Darcy?" She says and he jumps slightly at the surprise.

Then his eyebrows crease in a way she once found irritating and now can't imagine living without.

"I believe you have seen my record collection, Miss Bennet." He smirks, turning his attention back to the eggs in front of him. "In any case, my father used to sing this to my mother on occasion."

Lizzie stares at his back wanting to know everything there is to know about him. The constriction in her chest threatens to suffocate her, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Light up your face with gladness, hide every trace of sadness. Although a tear may be ever so near, that's the time you must keep on trying," He croons with the song, looking up to her, "You'll find that life is still worthwhile if you just smile."

Without any warning she pushes her mouth to his, kissing him softly and delighting in the guttural approval which echoes from his throat.

"I love you," She says evenly when he pulls away from her.

"Even though I burnt your eggs?" He asks, looking sadly down to the skillet.

She throws her head back and laughs, "I think I can let it slide, Mr. Darcy."

.:.

Though it is rarely all fun and laughter with Darcy, there is a constant warmth immersed within her. She wakes up warm and goes to bed warm, no matter the weather. He lays next to her, tracing little patterns into her arms and she feels nothing could ever wrench her from this position ever again.

Bing and Jane are disgusting in their happiness, posting honeymoon pictures all over Facebook, glowing under the warm sun. Jane's skin is pink and blistering, but the incandescent happiness on her face as Bing holds her on the beach, smears cake on her face, and pushes his mouth to hers is overwhelmingly perfect.

"I'm glad they eloped," Lizzie grins over to Darcy.

His hair is messy, sticking up on the side he sleeps on, arm extended across her torso. Sometimes she can see Darcy when he was a little boy, not the business man he's become. He must've been happy, anyone with a sister like GiGi could only have been a fun kid.

"As am I," He says in that familiar stiff way that makes her want to start dancing the robot just to irritate him. "I am terrible at public speaking."

She laughs and hits him with a discarded pillow. "You liar, you run a major media company!"

Darcy smirks, turning to face her fully and returning the pillow she assaulted him with under his head. It's nice - the way his blue eyes match her walls and how he fills so much space so easily.

"Lizzie, you know Bing would feel it necessary to appoint me best man and imagine how that speech would turn out." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "Hello, I'm William Darcy and I'm the reason Jane and Bing almost never made it to the altar."

Lizzie places her fingers over his, "You're also the reason they did make it down the aisle, too."

Pulling her hand back she smirks, "Besides if you think we're gonna have a big ceremony, you're wrong."

Darcy pulls back and smiles, "Did you just propose to me Lizzie Bennet?"

Upon realizing she had, she laughs softly. She can see it stretching out before her like a strong oak tree, branching off to children and family reunions and anniversaries. Two years ago this prospect would have terrified her, but now it seems natural, as though nothing else could exist for her.

"Maybe I did." She raises an eyebrow, challenging him.

"You know we at least have to bring Fitz, GiGi, and Charlotte right?" He says easily, rubbing her arm gently.

Lizzie's eyes snap up to his, "Did you just accept, Mr. Darcy?"

"Maybe I did," He says mockingly, leaning forward to kiss her face. "Is that agreeable, future Mrs. Darcy?"

His lips ghost across her forehead, down her nose, and finally land upon her mouth. She has to bite back a dreamy sigh.

Imagining her mothers face when she returns and tells her she married William Darcy and didn't even allow her to drag all her snooty neighborhood friends makes Lizzie giggle against her new fiances lips.

Turning over, she points down at her shirt, causing his eyes to roll. The vibrant pink lettering sticks out from her chest, declaring the universal truth with which her mother diligently raised her.

"You know how I feel about that particular piece of your wardrobe, Lizzie." He says dryly.

"Ah, but is it not the truth?" She smirks. "Besides if you hate it so much… you could take it off for me."