A/N—Hey everyone! This is my first P&P fic, so be nice. Just kidding. I'd love feedback and constructive criticism, so please review! A note on the first segment—if you haven't read/seen the first parts of P&P up until Jane and Lizzy leave Netherfield, you might be a little lost, hehe.

Day 1

William Darcy woke on November 14th at 6:00 A.M., per usual, and started his daily routine. This included getting out of bed, stretching, and heading to the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth, in that order. On this particular day, Mr. Darcy was unusually absentminded and went through his rituals in body, but not in mind.

The past week had been a trying one. With the arrival of a slightly ill Jane Bennet on Tuesday, that event and the ones following culminated into a massive train wreck of an ordeal for poor Wills. The slightly ill Jane became the ill Jane, which brought the younger and (in his opinion, but don't tell anyone) more interesting Elizabeth Bennet running to her sick sister's side. By dinnertime, the ill Jane Bennet became the very ill Jane Bennet who could not bear to be taken from her sister's side at such a trying time (and vice versa).

Thus, the (in)famous Second Miss Bennet came to stay at Netherfield for nearly an entire week. And William saw much more of her than he ever cared to.

They butted heads constantly during this impromptu visit; indeed, he could clearly recall every argument and debate they'd had under this roof (and not at all with negative feelings). He remembered the flash of her eyes when she was challenged, and the determined set of her jaw when questioned. And who could forget the head-tilt-half-smile-sparkle-eyed look when Miss Elizabeth gained a victory?

It was true, he admired the lady, even if she wasn't handsome enough to tempt (oh how he regretted ever saying those words) and a lady of inferior birth (but in today's society, honestly, who cares?). Thus, the lady was frequent on his mind as of late. And thus, he was charmingly distracted until he had to brush his teeth.

The man carefully applied his toothpaste (minty fresh, always the best) onto his toothbrush with the precision of a neurosurgeon and gracefully lathered it onto his pearly whites. He brushed languidly (one hundred strokes on the right, the left, the front, and the surfaces thank you; by the time he got to brushing his tongue anything flew) and didn't look up until he had to floss his teeth.

With a long white strand of dental floss (once again, minty fresh) wrapped around his two index fingers, he finally graced the mirror before him with a glance. Immediately, he was struck, and presented a comically shocked and appalled figure in front of the sink.

Floating above his head was a small, bright, candy-red heart.

"Er… Will? What's with the whole, uh…," Charles motioned to his head with the hand that wasn't holding the banana that constituted his breakfast, "Aunt Jemima look?"

William scowled at Charles. Honestly, how was it that absolutely no hats could be found in the entire estate? Will had scoured the place from floor to ceiling and had only found a red bandana lying sad and forgotten in a corner in the (West Wing) laundry room. Not even Caroline had anything, and she was on top of fashion—surely it wouldn't be wrong to assume she had some sort of headwear.

But no.

"Shut up, Charles," William growled. "You wouldn't happen to have a hat I could borrow, would you?" Last chance. Please, dear God.

"No, sorry." And thus, the sound of hopes being shot down rang clear and true within Will's mind. At least Charles hadn't noticed the somewhat perceptible bump atop his head. Give thanks for small blessings.

"So you still haven't told me why you've got that thing on." Charles took a bite of the banana in his hand and munched away, happily.

Cripes.

"I—well—er—," William stuttered eloquently.

Charles raised his brows in good-natured amusement and surprise.

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed when his bit of banana was satisfactorily consumed. "The great William Darcy at a loss for words? Next thing you know, you'll be rendered a lovesick puppy by some poor woman, and we all know how probable that is!"

For some reason, this statement blackened his mood further. Charles regarded him with true astonishment and a little (very little, of course) bit of fear. He chuckled nervously and stuffed the rest of his banana in his mouth.

"So, ah," he said, this time not waiting for the fruit to travel down his esophagus before speaking. He swallowed. "I'm going to… go. Now." He pointed behind himself with his thumb.

"Where are you going?"

"Eh… out?"

"Can you get me a hat?" William tossed him a desperate look. "Please?" he added for good measure.

"Okay," Charles agreed, quite surprised and a little bit confused, but curious nonetheless about his friend's new fixation with cranial apparel. "What kind?"

"The kind that covers your head," Will said wryly. "It doesn't matter, as long as it works."

Charles shrugged.

"Sure," he said. "See you later, then." He turned to walk away. And then he walked away.

William huffed and crossed his arms on the couch, creating a charming picture reminiscent of a spoiled little boy who didn't get his way. He was truly adorable when he pouted like this, but that did not draw attention away from the bright red bandana (almost the same color as it) on his head.

After a moment of sulking, he heard the distinct clicking of heels on hardwood and Caroline Bingley entered the room, looking like she got her outfit straight off a model on the runway. At the sight of him, she lowered her face-consuming designer sunglasses and puckered her lips, as if about to kiss or be kissed, in what was her "assessment pose."

"My, Wills," she finally said with a conclusive sweep of the eyes, "what an… interesting outfit."

He glared at her handsomely, and she raised a perfectly arched brow. No words passed between the two of them and finally Caroline decided to continue on her interrupted path, leaving behind the faint smell of imported leather and name-brand perfume.

Mr. Darcy allowed himself a groan of frustration. Then, he stood and stalked off to lose himself in mind-numbing videogames.

"Will?"

Charles Bingley found his friend viciously attacking a plastic guitar in front of the large flat-screen television in the gaming room. The man's fingers were a blur of senseless, structured activity and the furrow of his brow bespoke intense focus and deep concentration.

Luckily for Charles, the song William was playing had reached its end.

"Will?" he tried again.

"Eh?" William turned around and let the guitar dangle from his neck by its strap. "Did you get my hat?"

"Sure did!" Charles replied with a grin. He produced a large and ridiculously gaudy sombrero from behind his back. A flicker of panic passed across Will's face.

"Charles!?"

Mr. Bingley enjoyed a few hearty laughs at the guitar hero's expense.

"You really need to loosen up, Will," Charles said, still chuckling. Wills mumbled something incoherent, but along the lines of, "If you were in my situation, you wouldn't be laughing, now, would you?"

Charles then held out a blue and white baseball cap, much to the relief of his friend.

"Thank you," William said gratefully, taking the cap in his hand and setting the guitar down on the glass coffee table. He turned to leave. Charles watched him walk to the door in confusion.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Mr. Darcy half-turned to look at his savior.

"To put my hat on," he replied candidly. The confusion on Charles's face grew more intent.

"Why can't you just put it on here?" he asked reasonably. "It's not like you're changing your clothes or anything; it's just a hat!"

William had no plausible explanation for that, and said just so.

"Because… well, I have no good reason to tell you, besides the real reason, and I most certainly am not going to tell you that!"

Good job, Darcy. Pique his interest, why don't you?

The look on Charles's face was now not only mystified, but dangerously curious, and a bit hurt as well.

"What would you have to hide from me, Dub? I thought we were mates!"

William inwardly cursed. How dare Charles pull out the sentimental card? Only Charles ever called him Dub (as in the first syllable of 'W') and only when they were practically tots. Plus, it was doubly offensive because he pulled the 'mates' card as well, a term once again extending back to their childhood. Will had been an avid Crocodile Hunter fan in his younger days, and therefore went through a period littered with Irwinisms—thus only his best friends were graced with the term 'mate.'

William sighed, but it came out more like a huff. Stupid Charles with his stupid stupidness.

"Fine," William conceded. "I will show you this, but you must not tell anyone. A-ny-one. Is that clear?"

Charles smiled.

"Don't worry Will," Charles assured him. "You can count on me."

William pursed his lips and wondered if what he was about to do was at all a smart thing to do. Charles was incredibly transparent. It wasn't his fault, though, poor soul.

With deliberate care, and, well, slowness, William took off the bandana. He then averted his gaze to the floor like a shamefaced schoolboy caught doing something bad.

Charles let out a surprised laugh.

"Ah! …My little boy is growing up!"

William leveled a glare at him, but the effect was completely negated by the cheerful little heart's happily bouncing up and down, glad to be let out of its confinement.

"Wow!" Charles continued. "I never knew… so this is your first time?"

The incredulity was evident in his voice. It was the same tone members of Will's circle used when saying things like, "So this is your first time trying Checkerhouse's '87 White Wine Sherry?" As if it were impossible to believe. Why was it so impossible to believe?

"It's not—I'm not—," he protested. The traitor heart above his head counteracted any argument he could have made, however.

Charles was beside himself with delight.

"Who is she? What is she like? Do I know her?" he fired off rapidly. "Gosh, I'd always thought you'd already experienced that, since all those women are constantly throwing themselves at you. I figured at least one of them might have caught your fancy, maybe while you were travelling or something."

William shook his head.

"Not a one," he said. "To answer your question, yes, you know her, but I'll not tell you who she is!"

"Oh, come on, Will! She has to be someone new, since this is obviously a recent development. And by using my brilliant powers of deduction, I can only reason it to be one woman!"

Darcy paled.

"Don't say it—!"

"A Miss—!"

"Don't—!"

"Elizabeth—!"

"Charles!"

"Bennet!"

The heart quivered and grew a fraction of an inch. Charles clapped his hands, his face alight with childish glee. Then, he walked over to William and grabbed the heart. He examined it, turning it over in his fingers. He could feel the resistance it put up—it felt like an invisible rubber band was holding it to the spot above Mr. William Darcy's head. It was cool and smooth, and oh-so-very shiny.

And then Charles unceremoniously put the heart in his mouth.

William gaped at him, aghast.

Charles chewed it with complete indifference to Will's reaction. After he swallowed, a look came to his face reminiscent of a cat after having a bowl of warm cream. Or after eating a canary.

"Ah, bliss."

"You…!" William sputtered for a good four seconds. "You just ate my heart!"

"Indeed I did, friend, and it was de-li-cious."

William continued to stare.

"You just ate my heart!"

Charles rolled his eyes.

"Yes William; I just ate your heart."

A faint popping noise was heard, and Charles directed his gaze above William's head. Another heart had appeared (back with a vengeance). Charles grabbed that one, too.

"Try it," he said, holding it out to the still-shocked William. "It tastes like a big M&M. Except more… luxurious, I guess you can say. Almost like a Godiva M&M."

Will eyed the heart.

"Come on!"

With no small amount of trepidation, William took the heart. He felt the pull of it as well. Conscious of this, he quickly put it in his mouth (take it like a Band-Aid) and chewed.

Charles was right.

After the light candy crunch, a rich, smooth, creamy sweetness coated the inside of his mouth. The experience was something he could only describe as decadent, indulgent. Still, he couldn't shake the weirdness of the event.

He wouldn't be doing that again anytime soon.

"Awh… wow, Dub, Elizabeth Bennet? I… You had us all fooled, you know. You always suggested she was beneath your notice."

William scowled even as color bloomed on his cheeks.

"Yeah, well…" he grumbled. And then, he softened. His look, his tone of voice… "She's not." Oh yeah. Butter in a microwave.

Charles tut-tutted and shook his head, a bright smile adorning his face.

"I still can't get over it!"

William raised his eyes heavenward.

"Charles?"

"Hm?"

"Grab the other guitar so I can thrash you in this game." Since I can't thrash you in real life.

The afternoon proceeded charmingly, if a bit tryingly, in Will's opinion. Charles would have his laughs. William would have his victories in the virtual world. And, of course, there was always Caroline.

R&R! :D