Multifandom One-Shots

Extraordinarily Strange | Pride and Prejudice

Elizabeth x Mr. Darcy

Hi, it is past midnight and I just finished reading P and P for the second time in less than a year. Here's to (probably and hopefully) many more.

Summary: Our dear Lizzie Bennett is bored, so who better to tease and quarrel with than her husband?

QOTP: Darcy or Bingley?

Word Count: 1305

Pemberley was quiet that morning, and it was just after breakfast. Georgiana had gone back up to her favorite room to sit peacefully, and no other company was about the house except the servants, who were busy. Her uncle and aunt having left yesterday and her closest sister and brother not due to arrive until tomorrow evening, Elizabeth Darcy had no one but her husband.

Normally, this would have been perfectly fine — it was nearly a year into the marriage, and she was still in love with him as could be, if not more — but the man, at present, had his nose firmly stuck in a book and was silent.

It was clear he wanted not to be interrupted, and so Lizzie endeavored to read herself, but her attention simply could not be grasped. She continually glanced at her husband, wishing he would shut his book and speak a word to her, but he was dead to the world. She eventually grew so restless that she had to change that, and she knew just how — she considered it an art, really, and it was one she was very skilled at.

With a small sigh, she shut her book and got up, walking about the room, recalling how that seemed to draw his attention over a year ago at Netherfield. She looked at him every so often, and was pleased to find his gaze on her, if only for a few moments at a time — but he would inevitably turn back to his book, almost as if he had resolved not to be distracted by her. Lizzie quickly recognized that he was doing so on purpose; he knew she wanted attention, and so decided to refuse to give it to her, at least until (most likely) she would directly ask for it.

And Lizzie knew how to be direct.

She walked to where he could not see her, then silently moved directly behind him, leaning over the back of his chair to rest her chin firmly on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him as she did so. He jumped slightly at the contact, not expecting her to be there, but then settled and continued reading, determined not to speak first. Lizzie was likewise resolute.

She moved her head quite frequently, adjusting its position, occasionally fiddling with the collar of his shirt in a faux absentminded way, quietly humming to herself.

Eventually, Mr. Darcy was forced to give in to his wife. "My dearest Lizzie," he said, amusedly looking up at her, "pray tell me what exactly it is that you're doing?"

She feigned a light surprise. "What ever do you mean? Can a woman not express affection for her husband?" She pulled away coldly, walking back to her chair, only five feet away from him and yet still too far. "I see, then, how it is."

Mr. Darcy looked back down at his book. "And how is that, my dearest Lizzie?"

"No, no — no more of that," she replied, reopening her own book and pretending to read it. "Seeing as I am utterly snubbed, that is Mrs. Darcy to you now."

Mr. Darcy stifled his laughter, determined to play her little game. "Now, Mrs. Darcy, don't be unreasonable-"

"Is wanting any manner of love from my husband such an unreasonable thing?" she demanded.

"You already have all the love that I have in my heart to give," he replied easily. "It is not love you want, but attention."

"Well, I never heard such a thing in my life!" she exclaimed, a laugh almost escaping her despite her indignant tone. "Attention?! I have never wanted for that! I should be a piteous creature if I ever so shamelessly sought it in this manner!"

Mr. Darcy nearly smiled. "Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy, for any offense I've caused you. I assure you it was all in jest."

"Jest?" she said, closing her book. "Jest, I suppose, is something I can endeavor to forgive."

She stood, then, and walked over to his chair, looking down at him with an expression which could only be described as pure mischief. Unceremoniously, she then leaned down and kissed him, and Mr. Darcy's book was completely forgotten and by that point had fallen directly to the floor.

She pulled away slowly, an expression of thoughtfulness on her face. "No, no, I believe you will have to do better than that to elicit my forgiveness," she said decidedly.

Mr. Darcy then wore a mischievous expression to rival her own. "Would a second kiss possibly put me back in your highest regard?"

"It is debatable, but we won't know for certain unless we try."

And so they tried. Mr. Darcy, for his part, while their lips were still connected, tried to pull her closer to him, but on that she would not budge, though it was difficult for her to do so. She had almost given in, almost sat on the arm of his chair, when the door to the room was opened, an oblivious voice saying, "I have the tea you requested at- oh, my-! I-I am so sorry, I-"

When they heard the voice, the couple had very quickly parted, their cheeks coloring — Lizzie's more than Mr. Darcy's.

He quickly composed himself and waved the poor servant in, saying, "No, no, there is nothing to apologize for." He looked pointedly at Elizabeth. "Mrs. Darcy, here, was just being silly."

"Silly!" Lizzie exclaimed, returning to her chair as the servant set the tea tray on the table. "Well, I never-"

"Heard such a thing in your life?" Mr. Darcy finished for her as the servant went to leave, assuming he was excused the second he entered the room. "Yes, I'd imagine no one has ever had the courage to tell such a beautiful creature as yourself that she is exceedingly silly, but I will bravely do what I must."

Lizzie thanked the servant when Mr. Darcy was finished, and her husband, of course, echoed her statement.

When the servant was gone, however, Lizzie turned back to Mr. Darcy. "Oh, please, darling, stop your teasing when there are others around. I scarcely think my sister can take it half the time."

Mr. Darcy laughed. "Which one?"

"Nearly all of them," Lizzie replied, also with a laugh, "but especially Georgiana."

"Well, she's much used to it now. I dare say it was your teasing me that astonished her the most."

"As was the case with dear Jane, and then Kitty as well when I let something slip in front of her. Lydia, though, last she heard it, seemed to think it funny. We needn't keep ourselves in so much check around our family, but we ought to be more careful around the servants. I'm afraid they all think us mad."

Mr. Darcy reached across the small table to take his wife's hand, and he kissed it as if they were a newly-in-love, courting couple. "If we should be mad, my dearest, then there is nothing else in the world that I would rather be."

Lizzie smiled at him. "For now, I think it alright to just be silly. Our descent into madness has only just begun. Let us not get too far ahead of ourselves."

Mr. Darcy laughed again. "We will be whatever you wish us to be."

Meanwhile, in the hall, the servant from before was speaking to another. "I love them both dearly — I truly do — but my goodness, they are extraordinarily strange."