Can't Help It

Disclaimer: I don't own Pride and Prejudice even if I wish to. I am in no way affiliated with any of the actual persons/places whose names appear in this fanfiction. Their primary use is only to shed some familiarity to the story. Everything else is what it is, fiction. (^.^)

Chapter One: Meetings

William Darcy does everything like clockwork. He wakes up at 5, runs 6 miles in an hour on a good day, goes back home to take a 20 minute shower, another 20 to brush his teeth and shave and by 7 AM you'll see him dressed impeccably in his work suit as he sits behind the desk at his library, sipping his first round of coffee while checking his mail. He'll then proceed to take his breakfast and read the paper at the table set in the garden at half past 7 and by 8, he's on his chauffeur-driven car heading to work. Even on the weekends he's got to leave his London townhouse by 8 to spend the rest of his days off at his country home, Pemberley.

But not today.

It's says Saturday, 8:46 on the digital clock on the bedside table and Will Darcy remains asleep, too soundly in fact that he can't even hear the repeated vibrations of his mobile phone. It must be the sheets with astronomical thread count about him lulling him further to unconsciousness or it might be the fine spring weather permeating the room, giving it just the right amount of warmth without being humid. It also doesn't help the case if a gentle waft of lavender with a hint of tangerine floods the air- damn that smells good- that the need to wake up fails miserably against the temptation to sleep in. Right at that moment if one is asked to live THE life, it is definitely going to be lying on the bed Will Darcy's in- too bad Richard Fitzwilliam isn't on it because he's on the other end of the line, the one calling repeatedly for the last 15 minutes.

"Will you better be dead…" It has been nine rings going on ten and Darcy's still not picking up. Rich Fitzwilliam is no longer a happy camper, which, it must be said, he almost always is.

"Call his driver." Charles Bingley pipes in as walks by and sits beside Richard, a copy of Newsweek in hand.

"Joe?"

Charles rolls his eyes as if to say "Who else?"

"Will had to change his number because your sister kept calling the old one pestering the poor bloke asking where Will is and obviously I don't know the new one because I'm still seething in anger here while he obviously is still not answering his phone." Richard says breathlessly as he shoots Charles with a glare then he presses speed dial to call again.

"Hey don't look at me like that, I'm not Caroline's keeper. Will is perfectly aware of her not so subtle ways of saying "Shag me, Will Darcy" since she broke off her engagement with that actor a few months ago, again when that, again, failed to get Will's attention which I tell her endlessly will never happen. Come to think of it, she's been trying to lure him in since the day I introduced them. Will is still blaming me for that you know whenever Caroline makes a move on him and he finds some way, sometimes desperately to avoid her. Still she doesn't get a clue even if he's hovering 6"2' before her saying "No Caroline."

A few more unanswered rings and Richard is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Call his house number then. Eunice might be able to tell you why the hell he's still not here when the plane that will take us to New York for an important party will leave in ummm… 5 minutes."

Eunice is Will's housekeeper at his London home. She's also Joe's wife. She's a plump, 50ish woman with a ready smile and an overall good- natured countenance. She's very familiar with Will's regimented life to know just where he is at what time. She's also Richard's last hope of finding his cousin who decided to go MIA for a scheduled commitment, something he's never done before.

Richard by now has a pained expression that clearly says "Oh shit I forgot to do that". He immediately finds the number on his phone and makes the call. Thankfully, this time someone picks up.

"Darcy Residence this is Eunice, good morning."

"Hi Eunice, Rich here, is Will still there?"

"Richard! No he's not here. He didn't come home last night. He sent Joe ahead after he dropped him by Covent Garden. I thought he'll just delay his trip to Pemberley, very uncharacteristic of him not to call really. Why is there a problem?"

"You can say that. We're supposed to be flying to New York today to attend this VIP's party, a last minute decision on his part. Why, didn't he tell you?

"No. Maybe he forgot. Do you want me to try and call him?

"I've been trying to do that but he's not answering any of it."

Last call for boarding of the British Airways bound for New York could be heard through Heathrow's PA system.

"Hey Eunice, we got to go. Why don't you try to reach him and say we've gone ahead. If he still wants to go he could take the next flight that will get him to New York, albeit he'll be a bit late for the party, but it seems he's into that today anyway. British Airways would kick anyone at First Class to the curb just to give a seat to the Will Darcy. They'll even let him fly to plane come to that- anything for the person who owns a huge chunk of their arse."

"Richard!" Eunice exclaimed, a bit shocked but also a bit amused by the words.

"Hey it's the truth!" The stewardess by the gate is now beckoning to Richard and Charles is already tugging him by the arm. "Just tell him to hurry up because we don't want to deal with those Richie Rich, know-it-all Americans by ourselves! Bye!"

And with the last snap of his phone that will remain off for the rest of the flight, Richard Fitzwilliam will not hear anything from his cousin until he lands on the other side of the pond at which point the whole ordeal will be more amusing to him than it was vexing.

***

Eunice had better luck than Richard. It only took her two calls to reach Will's phone, only it wasn't Will who answered it. A woman's sleepy voice could be heard on the other end of the line.

"Hi may I know who's calling?"

It took Eunice a few seconds to reply.

"May I speak with Mr. Darcy please, tell him it's Eunice."

"O cr-… " Elizabeth Bennet suddenly realized that it wasn't her phone and instinctively, without thinking ended the call. She opened her sleep deprived eyes and looked about the room. It was elegantly furnished with modern style furniture. The walls have a wood against white finish which is too manly and business-y for her taste but it casts a comfortable feel to the room that in this time of day is basked in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the wide glass windows. She could make out the Thames even without her contacts and the sudden onset of a headache that can only be attributed to a hangover. She saw her bag by her side of the bed, grabbed it and after failing to find her glasses among the mess inside emptied its contents on the bed. Once she retrieved the pair, she put it on and reached for the pad of paper by the phone and according to the elegantly engraved writing she's at The Howard when she's supposed to be on her way to Paris to prepare a shoot and interview that will happen in two days with Christian Lacroix.

"I'm screwed, bigtime." She muttered to herself, and quite aptly so in more ways than one as she stared at the man sleeping beside her whom she's sure is naked based on the man's half-revealed buttocks and then her own who is not faring any better fully naked under the sheets.

She shoved her things in her bag then stood up to find her clothes. Her knickers is on the foot of the bed with her pants. She hastily puts on her clothes as Will Darcy stirred- the sheets were no longer as comforting without the smell of lavender and tangerine. Elizabeth or Lizzie is in the process of buttoning her pants when Will turned and looked at her with half-lidded eyes, trying to make sense of the scene.

"Hi," spoke Will.

Lizzie jerked at the sound of his voice. She looked up and managed a shy hello. It was followed by awkward silence. Will was openly staring at her making her very aware that she's half-naked.

"Thank god you're awake." Lizzie said when she noticed Will looking at her while she hook her bra straps on each arm and fasten it in front. She had to speak up or they'll both drown in dead air. "Someone, a Eunice called in your mobile asking for you."

That must have fully waken Will's wits because he suddenly exclaimed "you answered my phone?" a bit too angrily for Lizzie's taste. She stopped buttoning her blouse and looked in Will's direction fixing him with what she hoped was an incredulous stare.

"Well I did. I thought it---…" At this point Will has already gotten hold of his phone and scrolling through the list of missed calls. He was cursing under his breath at each call register bearing Richard's name and looked positively red while doing it.

"…was mine." Lizzie finished, stunned at the man's disregard of her explanation.

"Well apparently it isn't. You shouldn't just go about answering other people's phone." Will answered back.

Lizzie stared at the man. He's handsome, very much so, she'd give him that but he sure does have some awful manners. Lizzie who is not up for a fight to make things much worse in an already bad morning took a deep breath, put on her jacket, grabbed her bag, scooped up her contacts on the side table and left Will who is now trying to call Richard. She's late and has to make a lot of calls. He's cranky for missing his flight and that woman answered his phone when she had no right to. It is no wonder Will did not even look up to see Lizzie leave, and she also did not bother to look back.

Note: This is my first fanfic so I would really appreciate it if you write me your feedbacks. Many thanks!