"The trouble is… you think you have time." - Buddha

Dr. Morales pointed to a white section that positively glowed on the X-Ray of Elizabeth Bennet's brain. She was stunned. She was floored. She was beyond all possible comprehension. This didn't… it couldn't… was this really happening to her? The words brain tumor slowly set in, bringing a large wave of helplessness along with them.

It started out so innocently. She had been at work. The kids in her kindergarten class had been milling about as usual. Today was finger-painting day at school. Lizzie knew how much the kids loved their crafts. After lunch, they received their paper and shared paints. The tykes decided to draw their favorite things. Creations varied from geometric rocket ships to brown globs of mud. Everything was fine and dandy- that is until someone left there freshly painted butterfly on the floor. It was still so wet that she slipped when her foot accidently stepped on it.

She had fallen back before comprehension could even dawn. She woke up in the nurses office at school. Apparently, she had hit her head on the cubbies after falling. The nurse insisted on taking a certain Ms. Bennet, along with her throbbing headaches, to the hospital for X-rays. When Lizzie was insistent in her refusal, the nurse said it was school policy. Lizzie had to go to the hospital in order to ensure to law suits could be filed against her employer.

So she did. The x-rays were taken with no problem. Results were rapid. No concussion. . . Just a tumor. A huge flipping tumor inhabiting her BRAIN.

"Never regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many."- Unknown.

"Three weeks?" said Lizzie, in a voice so soft and vulnerable she hardly recognized it. Panic surged in her voice.

"I mean there has to be something! Drugs, chemo, witch doctor- ANYTHING!"

The doctor only shook his head in affirmation that nothing could be done. "Ms. Bennet, I'm truly sorry, really I am. At this stage, the tumor has progressed to most of your frontal lobe. It's a miracle you haven't experienced any prior symptoms given your condition…"

He pointed out diagrams. He asked questions. He did doctor-y stuff. You know, the personal questions. The ones you always looked to your mom to answer as a kid. That's all Lizzie could think of for a moment. She wanted her mother. Not possible.

"Is there any history of cancer in your family?" he asked warily.

"Yes… my mom died of pancreatic cancer about eight months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." His voice said something else. He wasn't sorry about her moms cancer. He was sorry about hers. He finished with his questions and medical mumbo jumbo. He asked her to call if she had any headaches, nausea, etc.

"It's too soon to be over. I'm- I mean… I'm only twenty six," her voice cracked ", I'm supposed to be getting ready for my life to really begin, not end."

"You can only hope to make those last weeks count."

Elizabeth pulled in a slightly unsteady breath. Three weeks. Three weeks. She looked, she searched, and with a final feeling of dejection she stopped. There was not one ounce of a silver lining to be found in this dark, dreary, dying cloud. Looking at the doctor with such an expression that could only be taken as regret, she excused herself.

The doctor nodded with an apology. Morales understood. He was not new to this, though he wished he was. Regret was common at this stage. Damn, if some stranger said he had less than a month to live he'd be feeling pretty remorseful himself. He'd been practicing for a week the first time he had to break the news to his first chronically ill patient. It hurt, it hurt so bad he almost quit. He almost threw away all those years of medical school when he saw how the man's eyes dulled when he heard the prognosis. Even after years of experience each one stung just as much as the last.

He directed her to the waiting room where she calmly went to fill out the necessary forms for her visit. The waiting room looked different somehow… more… vibrant. What she had at first called dull she now found rich with color. Pieces that she had described as a bland, like a brown chair, she could only see as unique. The small scuff on the leg of the table had a story. Perhaps a child bored with waiting for a parent began chipping at it. It may not be action packed but; there was still a tale to be told. But then again, what was the appeal of drama. Dramatics never turned out well. Twists in a plot are great in all, but only if they exist in a book not your life. For Elizabeth Bennet, what began innocent checkup after an accident …had turned into a death sentence.

A potentially morbid thought crossed Lizzie's mind. What stories, what memories, would her friends and family tell once she was gone? Another thought crossed her mind. When would she tell them? She was in the middle of planning her remaining time when Elizabeth felt a hand on her shoulder.

She turned only to see Dr. Morales. For an unknown reason her heart physically leapt in her chest. A small, simple minded, irrational part of her started to scream,' Maybe he found a treatment! Something perfectly new that could fix me. I could live!' That part of her was silenced as quickly as it had come by the look on his face. His expression was defiantly not of the 'You're going to live' variety. His mouth opened slightly only to produce a small breath, no words. He grabbed her hand and placed a piece of paper in it and then left as fast as he came. She brought the piece up to her face.

MELINDA GARDINER
GRIEF COUNCILING
(999) 853-5656
Omaha, Nebraska

No way. No way was this girl going to spend her last days groveling in self pity with a box of tissues. As far as she was concerned, her mind was already made up. The plan would be set in motion soon. It involved grabbing a few things first though… mainly Will Darcy.

Even if it was only for a few weeks, Elizabeth Bennet was going to live.

"At any given moment you have the POWER to say this is NOT how the story is going to END." - Unknown

The phone was ringing and Elizabeth Bennet was hyperventilating. She had gotten Darcy's phone number from Jane, who got it from Charlie who, at some point, got it from the man in question. The ring was almost a taunt in her ears.

Riiiiinnnnng.What are you doing? Riiiiinnnnng. He doesn't want to see you again. Riiiiinnnnng. Hang up- before it's too late.

Now the last part of that last goad seemed to stick. Before it's too late. That's why she was doing this, wasn't it? She had a chance… one chance. There wasn't a waiting period. She was going to freaking do this! It was the plan and Lizzie- well she was sticking to it.

"Hello?"

Oh. Goodness. He actually picked up? Lizzie had gone through hundreds of different scenarios in her head… one even involved an alligator, Charlie, and a rainbow tutu. So the question was- why had this one never come up? Lizzie stumbled a bit in effort to sound articulate.

"O-oh. Hey, Darcy. It-s uh it-"

"Lizzie, is that you?" He sounded REALY shocked (and really gorgeous.)

"Uh. Yeah it is…" This was not good! She could almost hear a play by play commentary to this conversation. Lizzie's headed for the deep end. Will Darcy coming up close. Ohh! Head on head collision! I don't think she can recover from this one ,folks!

"It's good to hear from you." Whaa-? She could almost sense the hesitant trademark Darcy smile in his voice. (Yes, there was such a thing.)

Now came the hard part. Since she had never anticipated his actual answering… well let the record state that Elizabeth Bennet was very bad at asking people out. So what happened next was a given-

"heywilliamdoyouthinkyou'dwanttogotodinnerwithmetonig ht?" (*cough cough* Translation: Hey, William do you think you'd want to go to dinner with me tonight? You know, because I'm a sane person who would never blurt things out like this in one breath.) Lizzie was very happy this conversation was via telephone because her cheeks had a stark resemblance to cherries. But, despite her insecurities, his reply came without indecision.

"I'd love to." Be still my beating heart, Lizzie chastised herself.

So it was set. They talked for all of three minutes to get details down. Will would pick her up at seven drive them up to Omaha and then they'd find something to eat in the old market.

"You can close your eyes to the things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel." –Johnny Depp

Dinner was heavenly. Well, the food was nice and all but, she was with Will. And that was great. She didn't want it to be over. There was this one point in the night that she couldn't stop thinking about. It replayed over and over, like a broken record.

*Wavy lines* FLASHBACK *Wavy Lines*

"Hey, why the long face?" Darcy glanced down at her menu. "Do you want to get some cake?"

With a sigh Lizzie confessed ", No. It's just sugar withdrawal. I gave up desert a couple weeks ago. Now it's all I can think about!" Well, when she thought about it. What was the point of a diet now anyways?

Will was incredulous. She didn't need a diet! "Don't you know that calories eaten on special occasions don't count?"

Lizzie let out a laugh and said ", What's so special about this occasion then?"

"It's our first date, silly. It may not be not to you, but tonight's pretty special to me. I hope we can have a lot more of these, years of them."

With that last sentence, Lizzie felt a small piece of her heart chip off. She knew, deep down, that if she wouldn't be leaving soon enough… well that didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the brief pain that seemed to course through her system. It hurt so much to know that now, after she finally understood how much she cared for him, all those moments lost could never be recovered.

It was that simple realization that brought it all home.

She would never get to do this again.

*Wavy lines* END FLASHBACK **Wavy lines*

"Hey… do you want to go walk by the river?"

Lizzie looked up. She had been just admiring the water and it's serenity. It was endless. The reflections infinite. The beauty timeless. She really wanted to get a closer peak. William Darcy was a mind reader!

"Uh, yeah. Sounds like a great idea, William."

"Call me Will. Everyone close to me does."

"Are you sure?"

"You're closer than most people can get."

"Okay… Will."

They walked down by the water staring off at the reflecting lights. Large trees with looming branches sent leaves cascading down all around them. With the oranges, yellows, and purples, the scene was something straight out of a movie. Slowly, but surely, Darcy's hand wrapped around hers. He asked if she would like to sit down on one of the many sets of benches.

Lizzie stole a glance at Darcy's face. Oh, what a mistake that was. Love filled his eyes and a smile lit his face. He was incandescently happy. She yearned to say the words. No, worse yet, she yearned to make him happier than he already was.

Elizabeth couldn't do this anymore. In a few weeks… unbeknownst to him that same happiness would be ripped away. She'd have to settle for tonight. She may be dying but, there was no point in dragging him down with her.

She gave him a slight smile and went back to looking at the river. Her mind was a bit fuzzy but in a good way. Tonight was a dream a beautiful dream to top of her life. Lizzie felt content until his warm finger slid away from hers. They reappeared only to trace her cheek.

"Sometimes…. It's hard to believe your really here. With me, I mean," said Will Darcy, in a voice much softer than she was used to. His thumb made waving patterns on her skin.

She glanced over and placed her hand on his cheek. Her usually tan hand looked pale in comparison to his cheek. Shyly, she caressed her thumb across his face. Will leaned in slightly, as did Lizzie. Their lips touched lightly for a moment… only to be rudely interrupted with a chorus of vibrations and beeps. A cell phone.

She looked skyward.

"One night! I wanted one perfect night! Couldn't you give me that?"

Will laughed and waved it off. "Answer. It could be important."

Little did he know how much that one phone call would impinge on their lives. Lizzie cracked open her red razor and answered with fake cheer and slight irritation in the underlying tones.

"Yes, this is she."

"What did you-"

"No, I mean…. I don't have a tumor?"

"Really?"

"Oh… my… thank you so much."

She closed her phone, looked over at Will Darcy, and grabbed her purse.

It had been the doctor's office. They…. They're machine had a fluke. Three other people got the same exact x-ray. Someone had forgotten to replace a faulty part and it had caused white spots to appear in each test. Though completely healthy, each of the three others as well, it seemed that fatal brain tumors had developed.

Elizabeth Bennet was alive and going to stay that way.

This call changed everything. Every detail of her being that had been rewritten by the diagnosis now went through yet another metamorphosis. Elizabeth didn't feel herself. She didn't feel like Lizzie. Who was this man sitting next to her, who was he really, and why did he become amazing in her time of desperation? Had she taken advantage of this kindness selfishly… Yes, yes she had and that was deplorable.

She felt heated. The fires of shame flicked at her face and covered her neck. The moment had passes, and Lizzie couldn't stay there.

He stood up as she started walking away.

"Lizzie…" he barley whispered, and then louder as she started sprinting away ",ELIZABETH!"

She ran up to the street and flagged down a cab before he even knew what hit him. He didn't know what to do. When did it all go sour? His mind was grappling to understand what made her leave. There had been a beautiful dinner, a perfect walk, a kiss beyond words, a phone call, and if he heard right- something about a tumor? At this point Will was too confused to fathom what he was feeling in his heart… livid, disenchanted, left out… and sad maybe.

But mostly it just hurt.

"Never regret anything. Because at one time, it was exactly what you wanted."- Anonymous

It was about two in the morning when she turned her phone off. He kept calling and texting… it was horrible. There were a total of fifteen calls and thirty six texts. One string of messages reduced her to tears.

Answer.
Please.
Do you want me to stop?
No.
No no no no.
You have to talk to me.
I'm begging.
Lizzie, why?
You just left
I don't get it.

That's why she had to shut it down. She couldn't see how much she hurt him. Yes, it hurt now, but it would hurt so much more if he knew the truth. The truth would hurt so much more. He might think it wasn't real. That what she felt wasn't real. And the memories of last night would be in shatters.

She didn't sleep. She tired. She put on yoga pants and a sweatshirt, got her favorite blanket, and turned on an episode of doctor who with the volume on low. Lord Fuzzy Pants, her cat, curled up next to her. His warmth radiated like a tiny heater of love. If it had been a normal day, with normal circumstances, she'd be out in five minutes flat. But today was not a normal day and these were not normal circumstances.

"The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad. You know, when Sad tries to bite its lip and not cry and smile and go, 'No, I'm Happy'? That's when it's really sad." –John Mayer

It was seven in the morning when he showed up. He didn't ring the door bell or buzz up to apartment. He pounded on the door with his fist. The noise demanded entrance. She tried to ignore it. She covered her ears but it didn't work. The noise just kept coming in.

She opened the door. Lizzie didn't greet him but just stared. His hair was bedraggled. He still had the same clothes on from last night. They were rumpled and no longer immaculate. There was slight stubble on his chin and sleep circles beneath his eyes. His eyes were incredulous when he spoke.

"What is wrong with you?"

So many things, Will… too many things.

"Will, I'm sorry. So sorry."

"Don't call me that."

It stung. She should have expected that one. She wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't have too. William started off in a rant that evoked such a guilt in her person, Lizzie didn't know how to bear it.

"You run off. You run off after getting the most cryptic and confusing call in the world! I hear that you don't have some tumor, one you never told me about, only to watch you run away from me," he paused, "again. You're always running. I want to know why."

She shut down every defense she possessed and explained her diagnosis from the beginning. From the fall, to the x ray, to call. Everything. It seemed like she rambled for a lifetime, when really, it was but a few minutes. She kept it brief. She kept it quiet. She kept it tentative.

"Wait a second- I mean, you thought you were a dead girl walking. Why- I don't even comprehend this."

"I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. Really, I am."

"If you knew, why would you call?"

"I had to know… I had to know what that felt like. That sentimentality."

He was up in arms. "What was I To you? Something to cross of your bucket list? Just some ride you needed to take before you went skydiving or smoked some opium?"

This is what she had been afraid of. He hated her. He truly found her appalling. She could see it in the curl of his lips. She could hear it in that sharpness to his voice. Her heart had been under a constant assault the past few days. It bruised at the diagnosis, chipped at the dinner, and was ready to detonate into smithereens at the confrontation. Lizzie felt her stomach clench in a nauseating grip. She was scared. She expected this, but was scared nonetheless. Though delighted to be perfectly healthy, she wanted to curl up and die.

"No! You weren't just another thrill. I'm not into thrills. I'm into you. I love you."

Darcy just stared. His eyes were icy and unwavering. They flashed with an undetectable pain.

"Then why did you wait to call me until now?"

"I- I don't know."

"You never would have called me. You never would have gone out with me. I can piece this together, Miss Bennet. You thought you were dying. That and that alone, is why you called."

"I called you. You. Dammit, that has to mean something."

Darcy's heart contracted, watching water slide soundlessly down her cheeks. That's when he realized. He wasn't mad. He wasn't even angry. He was hurt. He had been waiting for this woman and when she ran away, he acted like a toy deprived child, throwing a tantrum to get what he really wanted. He wanted the toy. He wanted Elizabeth, and just because he was hurt didn't mean it was over. It didn't mean he had to hurt her back. He could fix it. He could fix this. He could fix them.

"Christ, Lizzie. I didn't mean to make you cry."

Lord Fuzzy Pants came over and started to rub and purr at Lizzie. She sniveled at her tears a bit and picked him up. She held him and cooed a bit. He always knew when she was upset, he was a good man/cat/ guy. She almost forgot Will was even there as she petted the cat. Lizzie was only reminded of his presences when he loosely gripped her shoulder. He turned her around and started walking them to the couch. She was stressed, overemotional, and most importantly tired. He sat her, cat included, down on the couch.

"It's okay Lord. I know, I know I've been acting weird. It's okay now. You don't have to go live with Janie…" she murmured incoherently to her pet. She treasured that cat. He was always there for her, through the good times and the bad, the finals and the breakups, the weight fluctuations and the parties, he was there. God, she loved that cat. Almost as much as she loved the guy sitting next to her.

"Do you speak to animals now?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Will, I can hardly talk to people."

Lord Fuzzy Pants took that as his cue and jumped off her lap to run off. Will took the chance to scoot a little closer without being noticed. She was still crying. It was getting worse. He didn't know what to do. Female tears were kinda his kryptonite.

He wrapped his arms her around her. It was a bit awkward at first. But then she realized he was forgiving her, in his own special way. She burrowed her face into his neck and started to cry in earnest. Her sobs of confusion and frustration finally made their way out. The crying was intense for a while but then ebbed away. He just cradled her in his warmth, mumbling endearments, happy to final hold the right to hold her.

They decided to speak at the same exact moment.

"I made such a mistake-"
"I love you too!"

They stared at each other.

"Really?" questioned Lizzie.

Will nodded and repeated his earlier sentiment. She hugged him tighter. They sat like on the couch for a good hour. It was warm and safe, soft and loving. It had to be one of the most comfortable times she had ever experienced. She was about to nod off when the rumble of his voice set her off.

"And no," spoke Will.

"No?"

"Never a mistake."

They fell asleep then. Finally content. Finally tacit.

Author Note: I don't think you can ever understand how hard it was to finish this story. Writing proved difficult, uploading it was hell, and then I really don't like it. I think it's crap but I spent so much time on it I feel obligated to post it. That's how it works I guess. I will continue to post good stuff and bad stuff. Crap included.

Oh, and thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my finals. I did half of them today and with do the next half when school starts up again.

JAKF'HDAKLSHF;JKLA For Christmas, my best friend gave me a DVD of Persuasion. Just thought I should mention her and all her awesomeness.

HEY- if you did happen to like it (or bother to get this far) please review. It means a lot.