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Chapter 3, Part 1

Posted on Tuesday, 19 November 2002, at 12:02 p.m.

October 5, 2002

It is a truth universally acknowledged that carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen will bond together in the presence of chlorophyll and sunlight; and these conditions mingled together in excess at Avalon this year. Three tiny elements united to bring pleasure to the masses. A superior wine is the result of art and science working in tandem, and Elizabeth Bennet was perfecting the craft of manipulating both.

As fall rolled into western Oregon, the grapes of Avalon still clung tenuously to their vines. While many vineyards around the country had already completed their harvest, the cool temperatures indigenous to this area had extended the veraison period into October in the Willamette Valley. This highly important time of "berry softening" was characteristic of the Pinot Noir. The lateness of this year's harvest spoke well for the potential of the 2002 vintage.

Each year, the Bennets gathered with their closest friends and family for the annual stomping of the grapes festival. It was a significant event celebrating the culmination of the harvest, the traditions of the vineyard, and a long year of hard work.

While many vineyards held public harvest festivities, Avalon chose to keep this symbolic event a private affair. Elizabeth had long enjoyed the intimacy of this important occasion. Knowing that William would be present this year aroused a dichotomy of feelings and questions in her mind. He seemed to have that continual effect on her.

Stomping the grapes was as much a tradition to Elizabeth as Christmas was for most. Long before she could partake of the wine they made, she had actively participated in the stomp. Her love of this event had been skillfully captured in one of her favorite pictures; there, in the middle of an enormous oak barrel, stood Elizabeth and her father. Not yet fully walking, she was maybe a year old. Gazing down at her, he held both of her hands as she attempted to learn this family ritual. And learn, she did; for to be a Bennet was to love Avalon and all it entailed.

Stepping out onto the porch Elizabeth paused for moment, allowing her lungs to adjust to the refreshingly crisp air of a cool fall morning. The moisture of her deep exhalation condensed into a cloud of white droplets before her. She smiled as the reality of the day eased over her mind gradually; it was the perfect time for harvest. The fields of grapes were shrouded by the early morning fog that lingered in the valley. Though it would be long gone by mid-day, for the moment Elizabeth was provided with a comfortable cocoon as she walked out amongst the rows of ripened fruit.

Delicately she took hold of a deep red grape, her nail grazing its taunt skin. In a mere second, she had plucked it from the vine where it had grown for months and popped it into her mouth. Biting down slowly, she stopped to savor the rich flavors that exploded around her tongue, and she thought again about last week's phone conversation with William.

Almost a month had passed since her stay at Pemberley, and she had not expected him to call. Surely, given time to reflect, he had thought the better of his initial acceptance of her spontaneous invitation. It had been obvious that he had not enjoyed his first visit to Avalon. Why would he subject himself to another? As the weeks passed, Elizabeth had reconciled herself to the idea that he would not contact her again. Apparently, however, she had been wrong.

Climbing out of the car, William noticed the gentle breeze that wafted up to him, bringing a variety of culinary scents with it. Although the sun had reached its dominant position in the sky, the afternoon was still cool and he was grateful for the sweater he had chosen to wear. Opening the trunk to claim their bags, Darcy suddenly realized that Charles was staring at him, as if waiting for an answer. The problem was, William had no idea as to the nature of the question. In truth, he would be hard pressed to recollect anything that his friend had said on their southbound journey down Interstate-5.

"You know, Darcy," said Charles as he reached into the trunk to retrieve his bag, "I've grown accustomed to your constant state of distraction. What I find amusing is that for once, it doesn't seem to be work related." Catching the questioning look directed at him, Charles nodded his head towards the winery.

Glancing in the direction his friend had indicated, William replied, "I'm sure I don't catch your meaning, Charles." Even as he said the words, his eyes focused on the familiar figure that had filled his thoughts for the last forty-five minutes.

She looked somehow different today. Darcy studied her for a moment, trying to determine what had changed. A long floral skirt wrapped around her legs, caught in a gust of wind. She folded her sweater-clad arms around her waist and stroked her hands up and down for a moment, warming herself with the friction. Then with a quick agility, she climbed up onto the back of a pick-up truck and began directing several workers, pointing and moving her hands as she spoke. When she finally hopped down, Darcy could see a pair of sturdy black boots peeking out from under her long skirt - a practical choice for the grape fields. He watched and was intrigued by her balance of femininity and authority.

Feeling the grip of a hand on his shoulder, William heard Charles say quietly, "Yes, I can see that you have no idea what I'm talking about."

About to reply, Darcy looked up to see Jane approaching them and held his tongue.

"Hi sweetheart." Charles leaned over to kiss her cheek as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Hi," she smiled warmly at him and then turned her attention to William. "How have you been?"

"Fine, thank you," he replied formally.

"Darcy and I were just admiring the sights here again." Charles winked at his friend. "It's been awhile since we were here last."

Jane nodded. "Isn't this a beautiful time of year? I'm glad you guys could make it." As Darcy moved to close up the car, she continued, "Lizzy is busy getting all of the last minute details together for the stomp, but I would be glad to show you the guest rooms."

"That's a great idea," replied Charles, "we can leave our bags there."

With a final glance towards the winery, William threw his bag onto his shoulder and followed the others towards the main house.

Reaching into the cab of the pick-up, Elizabeth slid a large wicker basket across the passenger seat and into her arms. Closing the door with quick shove of her hip, she struggled to improve her grip on the oversized load.

"Can I help you with that?" a voice asked from behind her.

Elizabeth turned to find William leaning on the back of the truck, an amused smile splayed across his face. Overwhelmed with preparations for the stomp, she had somehow missed his arrival and was now caught by surprise. Looking up at him as she continued to reposition the basket, Elizabeth found herself in the unusual position of being speechless. Wow...

"That looks like important cargo you're carrying." William continued, as he began to move towards her.

"Thank you," she said with relief when he leaned over to relieve her of the basket. Glancing up, she was immediately taken in by a pair of dapple-brown eyes. Unobstructed by his metallic specs, his eyes were exposed, giving his face a softer, more open appearance. Elizabeth pondered for a moment, trying to decide which Darcy she preferred - the intellectual man she met at the bookstore last month, or the casual one standing before her in faded Levis and an Irish cable knit sweater.

"No problem. So, where were you headed?" Darcy surveyed the area in search of her destination.

"Actually, we're setting up in front of the winery," she said while straightening her sweater. "Have you been here long?"

"No, Charles and I just got here about fifteen minutes ago. Jane took us up to the guest rooms." As William watched her nod with understanding, he noticed that her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. During their previous encounters her long curls always seemed to be daring to escape from whatever means of binding she had chosen for the day, and he now realized that he had never seen her hair completely down before. After a moment he decided that it was perhaps a good thing that he was holding the basket of grapes, as the sizeable container had effectively quelled his ability to reach out and touch those enticing curls.

"Oh, great," Elizabeth responded as she began to step away from the truck. "Follow me. The stomp is going to take place over here."

"So, these grapes are going to be stomped?" he inquired as they moved up the path towards a large beige building. There was a general commotion as they approached the front of the winery. Some people were filling tables with food and wine, while others carried vats overflowing with grapes towards two enormous oak containers. Several musicians set up their equipment on a stage at the side of the grass. While their tasks were different, everyone moved with a purpose. The scene spoke of chaos and order at the same time.

"Oh no, I just picked those grapes from the fields this morning. They're from the new Dijon clone vines, and they are for us to eat." Stepping up to the entrance to the winery, Elizabeth reached into the basket for a grape. "You should try one. They are really very good." As she spoke she held the grape up to his mouth.

Caught off guard, William reacted without thought and opened his mouth. His attention was completely diverted from the flavor of the grape when Elizabeth's finger lightly grazed his lower lip.

"Well," she raised an eyebrow, "what do you think?"

"Delicious," he smiled at her. In truth, he hadn't thought of much after her fleeting touch.

"You're not afraid to eat cloned food, are you?" she asked with a wink as she moved to open the door.

His answer was not what she'd expected. "Are you asking Mr. Darcy, CEO of DGT or William, harvest festival attendee?

Facing him, she smiled at this unexpected game. "Which man will give me the more interesting answer?"

William noticed the intricate grape patterns carved into the massive oak door above her head. While momentarily drawn to the artistic detail, his gaze was almost immediately refocused to the inquiring look of the woman that stood before it. "I'd like to think that they are both fascinating."

"Oh," Elizabeth's eyes danced as she teased him, "I'm sure you would." Turning, she stepped into the foyer.

Unaccustomed to this type of banter, Darcy watched for a moment as Elizabeth crossed towards a table and then turned with a gesture for him to follow. Before he could move to join her, she was approached by a petite woman bearing a serious look and carrying an overloaded clipboard. He observed them as he slowly came near the pair, not wanting to interfere.

Sensing William's gradual advance, Elizabeth turned to include him in the conversation. "William, this is Melissa - my partner in crime here at the vineyard." She paused as the two exchanged a mutual greeting. "We're just finishing up a few details."

The women concluded their short conversation while Darcy looked on patiently. Setting the basket on the table, he considered the amount of responsibility Elizabeth took on at the vineyard - a situation not unlike his own. Listening to their conversation he could see that she was in many ways a hands-on leader, involved in the details of the vineyard as well as the overall picture.

As she was leaving, Melissa turned her regard to the man in front of her once again. "It was nice to meet you, William. I hope you enjoy your time here today." With a quick grin for her friend, she scurried out the door with a quick step.

Elizabeth studied William for a moment. "You know, I have a lot of last minute things to take care of around here. I wouldn't be offended if you would prefer to find Charles and Jane. They may be more entertaining at this point."

He considered her suggestion briefly and then shook his head. "No, I'm sure that I'll be just fine here. I don't mind waiting." Darcy paused and ran his hand along his chin. "In fact, I'd like to help if I can."

Elizabeth was astonished over the next twenty minutes to see William willingly join in with the others filling the oversized wooden crates with grapes for the quickly approaching stomp. She was not shocked to see him focused on the task, for she had already discerned that it was his nature to never do anything halfway. But something about him was different today. Not surprisingly, he made no attempt to speak to the many people buzzing around him. As she paused to watch him now, he looked up and caught her eye. Gradually, the barest hint of a smile crept into the corners of his mouth - a small gesture, but meant only for her. In that moment, Elizabeth recognized that she was pleased that he had chosen to come today.

"Everything looks great, Lizzy." Jane's voice broke through the spell that had threatened to pull her in just as she noticed Charles approaching William. "Do you need any help?"

"Actually," Elizabeth said with a sigh of relief, "I think everything's almost ready."

Looking around, Jane nodded. "The roasted turkey smells wonderful. It looks like they're almost ready to begin serving the food."

"Yeah, we're on track here." Glancing back to the oak stomping barrels, she noticed that Charles had now joined William in moving grapes. "The wine is being opened and I just talked to Melissa. She assures me that harvest is running on schedule. We should begin the Pinot Noir crush in a couple of days."

Elizabeth looked up to notice a familiar face crossing the field towards them. "Charlotte," she called, waving her arm to grab her friend's attention.

After greeting each other with an enthusiastic hug, Elizabeth stood back to give her the once-over. "Wow, you look great, Charlotte." The girls had been the best of friends in high school, but found that their contact had waned a little since graduating from college. Elizabeth noticed that the hairstyle she was sporting was new - a sleek chin-length inverted bob, conservative with a touch of playfulness.

The trio fell easily into conversation, as if no time had passed since their last get-together. They talked of work, family, and of course - men. Jane had just begun telling Charlotte about Charles when he and William joined the group.

"All done!" Charles exclaimed as he moved next to Jane.

"Wow, that was quick," Elizabeth's gaze moved from one man to the other. "Thanks for your help." Though nothing was said, she felt William's acknowledgment of her appreciation when their eyes met briefly.

"Charles," Jane said, taking his hand, "you haven't met Charlotte." Introductions were quickly exchanged and the conversation turned to the upcoming harvest.

The afternoon moved along in a relaxed fashion, a lively combination of food, music, and wine. Eventually the group sprawled out on the grass together and an easy conversation ensued. As Elizabeth and Jane reminisced about their favorite wine and vineyard experiences, Charles made an important discovery. Charlotte Lucas was in possession of a wide variety of note-worthy Bennet sister stories, and he was determined to hear as many of them as the afternoon would allow. In the background, a singer, his voice raspy from years of strain and cigarette smoke, belted out one blues tune after another.

Elizabeth found herself speculating about William's presence among them that afternoon. He was polite but remained basically withdrawn from the conversation. While he would answer questions, he did nothing beyond that to further the conversation. Though, from time to time she would glance up to catch him staring at her.

As the time for the stomp drew near, Elizabeth noticed her father crossing the field towards her. Following close on his heels was a man that she found herself less than excited to encounter again. Mr. Collins worked for DeBourgh Marketing and had recently been assigned to the Avalon account. Elizabeth had taken a meeting with him about a month ago and found herself uncommonly frustrated by the man's overly solicitous behavior. How could he possibly be of any help to them if he did nothing but agree with everything she said?

Watching him bend her father's ear and patience simultaneously, she realized that her memory had been far too generous with this man. Honestly, what type of person even attempted to strut in high-waisted, high-water khakis?

"Lizzy, you remember Mr. Collins." Mr. Bennet turned to indicate the man next to him. "He has just informed me that he is a zealous wine connoisseur," he said with a wry smile.

"Oh, really?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in the direction of her father.

As if completely unaware of the other's presence, Mr. Collins turned his attention to focus solely on Elizabeth. "Ms. Bennet, I noticed that you have also dressed with the day's events in mind." As he spoke, his hand slipped up to run across the fold of a wool beret.

Elizabeth's eyes made a quick trip down the fine-gage knit of her burgundy colored sweater and swept up to rest upon the kitschy purple beret emblazoned with a Gallow Vineyards trading pin that adorned Mr. Collins's head, noticing that it was pulled down in front to cover a hairline that she knew to be receding.

Attempting to stifle the giggle that longed to escape, Elizabeth agreed. "Indeed, what a coincidence, Mr. Collins."

"I see the sweater you are wearing is the exact shade of a Pinot Noir." Gradually, he adjusted his belt, pulling it even higher around his thick midriff.

Elizabeth shuddered slightly, a reaction to the dual assault on her senses being carried out by the combination of the leer he was using to appraise her 'assets' and the harsh sound of the r that still hung in the air after he had butchered Noir in a typically American fashion. It was with a strong sense of dread that she realized that Mr. Collins fully intended to continue this ridiculous discussion of their attire. She looked to Jane, sending out every 'help me' signal she knew.

Jane Bennet recognized the look that had flashed over her sister's face and knew that now was the time to act. "Mr. Collins," she said, holding out her hand, "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jane Bennet, Elizabeth's sister."

Though his initial response to the disruption was one of irritation, Mr. Collins's expression underwent an instantaneous metamorphosis when his eyes came to rest on the exquisite face from which the interruption had spilled forth. "Ms. Bennet," he purred while raising her hand to his lips, "it is such a pleasure to meet you. Your father didn't tell me that he had two daughters of such exceptional beauty."

Pulling her hand back the instant his grip loosened, Jane glanced over at her sister just in time to catch the distinct rolling of her eyes. In a display of politeness that was true to her nature, she proceeded to conduct introductions for the group while surreptitiously wiping the back of her hand on her pant leg.

Finally, Mr. Bennet took pity on his daughters and suggested that they get started with the event of the day - the grape stomping. Relieved by his suggestion, Elizabeth took a step closer to Darcy and, noticing the undisguised look of discomfort on his face, she nodded in the direction of the stomping barrels. As they moved quietly along, she could hear the animated discussion of Mr. Collins's stomping exploits as the group trailed behind them.

"So," she said, glancing at Darcy out of the corner of her eye, "Are you going to stomp with us?"

"Would you be terribly offended if I didn't?" he asked quietly.

"Of course not, many people are uncomfortable participating at their first stomp." Reaching the stomping site, Elizabeth plopped down on the ground and began to remove her boots.

"Thanks," he said, looking around, "I didn't realize that you harvested so late in the year."

"The late harvest is unique to this area of the state. Do you see that bank of trees?" she asked, pointing out to the west of the winery. "My grandfather planted those to channel the marine air through the vineyard during the summer."

An analytical look overtook William's face. "And the cool air slows down the growing season?"

"Exactly." She was secretly pleased by his quick assessment of the situation. It showed an astute understanding and interest that she was not accustomed to generally receiving.

"The slower development of the fruit balances out the sugar and acid ratio in the grape. And that is the foundation of the distinct flavor that our wines possess."

"So," he squatted down next to her. "Were these grapes harvested here?" When she replied negatively, he continued. "Then, if these grapes weren't harvested here, where did they come from?"

Leaning close to his ear, Elizabeth whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "The local grocery store."

"Really?" he asked with a small laugh.

"Oh yes, Avalon's grapes are far too valuable to use for a stomp." Elizabeth looked around as she stood and removed her sweater. Straightening her newly revealed tee-shirt, she muttered under her breath.

Standing slowly, Darcy looked at her curiously. "Did you say something?"

"Oh, it's just my sister, Lydia."

Following her glare, William noticed Elizabeth's younger sister standing off to the side of the field next to Mrs. Bennet. "Is there a problem?"

"Well...not a new one. She does this every year. I don't know why I expect anything different." Noticing the look of confusion on Darcy's face, she slowed down to offer an explanation. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I just get so frustrated with her. For the last couple of years Lydia has refused to participate in anything to do with harvest. She just blows in here for a few minutes, and then she's gone."

Watching her as she grabbed her long skirt and tied it up around her thighs, her brisk movements easily revealing the irritation she felt, Darcy could think of nothing appropriate to say. He felt inadequate in his inability to soothe her irritated state and found himself relieved when Mr. Bennet announced that the stomping was about to commence.

Holding true to Avalon tradition, the stomp began as a ladies-only event. Elizabeth was joined in one of the large vats by Jane and Charlotte. Grabbing their hands for support, she threw off the stress and frustrations of the morning and focused in on the sensations that touched her - the sharp coolness of the grapes on her feet contrasted by the warm feeling of a hand in hers.

The music began with a leisurely tempo, a harmonious blend of guitar and keyboards. She moved in time with the beat allowing her body to follow the steady vibrations. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth felt the soft pulp of the fruit, freshly liberated from its taunt boundary, as it slid freely across her skin.

Soon the ease of the first song was blending into the next, the pace building in force and momentum. When Jane released her hand, Elizabeth opened her eyes to see Charles and Mr. Collins eagerly climbing over the edge of the barrel to join them. Not surprisingly, the addition of the men brought about an immediate increase in the competitive nature of the event. Before long the group was stomping in earnest and Elizabeth could sense the change as the spongy layers of grapes were gradually transformed to juice. Unfortunately, the increasing liquid content of the barrel created a growing hazard - A truth confirmed by Mr. Collins when his rambunctious attempts to impress Ms. Bennet resulted in a loss of balance that sent him tipping backwards into the slithery grape mush.

When at last the music ended, Elizabeth found herself trying to recover from her current state of oxygen deprivation - a direct result of her all out stampede through the generous helping of grapes that had been amassed in the oak barrels, reinforced by her inability to control the fits of laughter that spilled forth when Mr. Collins's ample backside had landed dead center in that barrel.

Looking up, she noticed William staring at the slimy chunks of fruit dripping from Mr. Collins's saturated form, his expression a striking cross of amusement and horror. Turning his gaze back to her, he smiled slowly as he moved to stand closer. "Please tell me that you don't use these grapes in your wine."

"No," she finally responded between giggling fits. "We just use these for mulching."

Elizabeth began to step out of the oak barrel, one hand gathering up her skirt and the other resting on the sturdy rim for balance. Still trying to catch her breath and calm her laughter, she noticed a large hand reaching to assist her.

"Let me help you," Darcy offered as he took her hand.

"Thanks," she smiled at him. "Actually, I could use your help if you don't mind. Do you see those clip boards with the linen paper on them?" Elizabeth pointed towards a table that was situated between the two vats of grapes.

At his nod, she continued. "Can you grab one for me before I step out?"

While Darcy moved to the table, Elizabeth watched as Charles continued to splatter Jane's legs with grape mush. Their laughter was infectious, but could not completely cover-up the grumbling she heard from a drenched Mr. Collins as Charlotte helped him clean himself up.

"Here you go," William said, returning to her side with clipboard in hand.

She gestured for him to set it on the ground in front of her. Taking his hand, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the barrel and then placed her wet feet on the linen paper, leaving a set of light purple footprints behind.

"I thought that the grape juice would be darker." He studied the pedalic image as Elizabeth began to rinse off her feet in a bucket of warm water. Setting the clipboard back on the table, he knelt down next to her and took over the rinsing duties.

Startled by his unexpected action, she paused for a moment before responding. "Actually, the hue commonly associated with red wines develops from extended contact with the dark colored skins during fermentation. The original juice is very light in color."

"Well, this is certainly a messy process," William stated, although in all honesty he was not displeased with the position he now found himself in.

"That it is," she replied, "but I love to do it. Wine is like a thread that connects us to our ancestors. People stomped grapes like this seven thousand years ago. Now we crush our fruit with machines, but this," she gestured towards the juice filled vats, "reminds me of where we came from."

William looked up at her as he carefully dried off her legs one at a time. Her face was flushed - a combination of the playful exercise and her impassioned reflections.

Feeling his hand running down the back of her leg, softly massaging the muscles as he dried the skin, she felt momentarily entranced. "Would you like to take a walk with me when I finish up here?"

"Yes," he replied softly, "I think I would."

Chapter 3, Part 2

Posted on Friday, 6 December 2002, at 11:41 p.m.

October 5, 2002 (cont.)

While the nipping breezes characteristic of a fall day in the Pacific Northwest blew through the valley in a staccato of short and long gusts, William Darcy stood on the back porch of the Bennet family home enjoying the quiet stillness of a moment alone. As his lungs filled with a deep breath of the fresh air that cooled the evening, he ran his hand along the woven lattice, detecting the smooth feeling of a grape as it brushed the back of his hand and contrasted the roughness of the wood beneath his fingertips. Up and down his fingers grazed the wooden slats, distinguishing between smooth and rough, sleek and coarse, supple and firm...

Confused by his growing attraction to Elizabeth, he could feel the time rapidly approaching when a choice would need to be made - act on his feelings or walk away. Darcy could already sense that a mere friendship with this woman would never satisfy him, he craved something more intimate and it was beginning to overwhelm him. He had experienced the compelling pull of attraction to a beautiful woman before, but this was different.

He was only just beginning to fully realize how severely his initial assessment of Elizabeth had undercut her true talents and abilities. While he found himself uncommonly charmed by her eyes, it was something deeper and more substantial than physical beauty that had brought him to the vineyard today. There was no denying that he longed to touch her, but that craving was equally matched by his desire to engage her mind in a verbal intercourse - an interchange of ideas that would wind aimlessly from topics of great importance to those that gave the appearance of insignificance, but often exposed the truest nature of a person.

Over the years, Darcy had known many women well-educated and highly accomplished in the sciences...teachers, colleagues, and employees - this was not a new phenomenon. Elizabeth's appeal surpassed her intelligence and revolved around the passionate way she pursued life. Her job, much like William's, was so much more than a way to garner money, intellectual snobbery, or professional prestige. It was personal.

With a firm tug William pulled a grape from the vine, generous in both size and its deep burgundy color. Rolling it from one finger to another, he allowed himself a brief indulgence - reliving the image of Elizabeth, her bare legs immersed to mid-calf in grape mulch while her face spoke openly of the joy and satisfaction this particular diversion brought to her. Had they been alone, nothing would have kept him from joining her, but for now the memories of holding her leg in his hands while he gingerly rinsed the sticky fruit pulp from her skin would replay themselves over and over...caught in the feedback loop at the pleasure center of his brain. Slowly he bit into the grape, enjoying the sweetness that cascaded from it into his mouth.

"Here you are."

William looked up, somewhat startled to find that the woman who filled his thoughts had seemingly materialized before him.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting." She smiled up at him as she wrapped a fuzzy scarf around her neck. "It's starting to cool off, so I decided to put on some jeans." Looking around, she continued, "You're all alone out here. I hope that everyone didn't walk off and leave you."

"No. Jane and Charles said they were going to watch a movie, but I decided to just wait out here. It's quiet and..." he paused, and Elizabeth could see him grappling for the right words.

"Say no more," she held up her hand, "I completely understand. Sometimes the family can be a bit...overwhelming. And after the scene that Collins made when he left...well, I think everyone needed a breather."

"Thank you. So," Darcy looked out over the grape fields, "where are we going?"

"Well, how hungry are you?" She turned, hand on her hip to grace him with a curious look.

"I'm still stuffed from all the food we ate before the stomp. Why?"

"I was thinking of taking you out to my favorite spot on the vineyard...but the walk might keep us out for a while, and I didn't want you to starve."

William laughed. "After everything we ate earlier I think I've probably met my quota for today." He glanced at her, revealing a hint of anticipation. "So, I'm ready if you are."

"Great," she said, leading them out towards the fields. "I'm glad you grabbed your coat." Elizabeth looked at him, studying the finely-made, black leather garment that he had donned in her absence. "The wind gusts can get pretty brisk after dark, and we won't have the daylight for too much longer."

Before long they were winding through the tiers of grapes, one row blending into the next - a giant maze of fruit and vines. William gave up on trying to figure out their destination and decided to just follow her lead. Placing his hand across his brow, he attempted to shade his eyes from the setting sun. "Just how big is this place?"

"The vineyard's two hundred and fifty acres in total, but it's divided up by several microclimates." Glancing up, she caught the genuine interest in his face and continued proudly, "There are actually between seventy and eighty different wine lots produced each year and fermented in French oak barrels. When it comes time for the bottling, the best barrels are blended into our Reserve wines." Slowing her pace for a moment, she pulled a grape from the nearest vine and then continued to walk.

William watched as the grape rolled easily between her fingers and palm, a subconscious motion that spoke of its habitual nature. He could feel her relax as they moved further into the fields, further away from the hectic activities of the afternoon, further into a moment of shared seclusion.

"Has the vineyard always been run by your family?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth smiled as she held the grape up between her fingers. "My grandfather planted these in the early nineteen-fifties . Over time, we've added different varieties of grapes and diversified the vineyard." Tossing the grape into her mouth, she asked, "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" He looked at her inquisitively.

"Well, you've only lived in Portland for what, about six months now?" she asked as they began walking again.

"That's correct." William studied her for a moment, trying to ascertain the direction of her questioning.

Glancing up at him, she continued, "Pemberley seems to have its own history, it can't be that new."

"No," he agreed, "Pemberley has been in my family for three generations. My grandfather, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had it built in nineteen thirty-five. The area was completely undeveloped at the time."

Not missing a beat Elizabeth turned towards Darcy, eyebrow raised. "Wait. Are you a Fitzwilliam too?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, "I was named after my grandfather, though I've never used the full name."

In that moment Elizabeth realized that this was something personal, something that he shared with few. Her glance fell to the ground and then quickly swept up over him again as she subtly changed the subject. "So, he built during the depression? That must have been difficult."

"Yes," he said, glad to move on to a topic slightly less personal in nature. "My grandparents emigrated from England and had family money to support them originally. Within the first five years that they were here my grandfather had established what would eventually become Darcy Genomics. Of course, at the time it was just a medical research company."

"I didn't realize that the company was that old," she said, moving towards a predominant oak tree, which they had been approaching for a while.

William looked at the ancient tree, shaded in the caliginous haze of dusk. He noticed that the winery was no longer in view, and found himself entirely surrounded by grapes and vines. "Have we reached your favorite spot?"

"We have," she smiled, plopping down next to the tree. "Out here I can be truly alone. I've made a lot of important decisions next to this tree and calmed down after more than one argument."

Quickly reviewing his experiences and interactions with her family, William silently observed that a spot like this might just be necessary to maintain sanity. Sitting down next to her, he noticed the moon as it broke the horizon in a gradual ascension. "You're lucky to have such a beautiful spot to think."

Pulling her knees to her body as she wrapped her arms around them, she agreed, "You're right, it's one of my greatest pleasures at the vineyard. I love to walk out here." Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled mischievously. "But we were talking about you."

"Were we?" he laughed lightly.

"We were," she laughed with him. "So, has the company always focused on cancer research?"

"No," William responded, "that was a decision that was made when my father opened the Seattle branch of the company."

"Why did he move to Seattle?" As the question left her lips, Elizabeth thought of the differences in their natures. She hoped that in her curiosity she wasn't asking for more than he wished to share.

Darcy was surprised that he found himself wanting to answer her questions. He had recounted a canned and sanitized version of his family history on more than one occasion, for more than one interviewer. Everyone seemed to be interested in the Darcy history, but she just seemed interested in his history. "He moved for school, but he stayed for love."

"Really?" Elizabeth's expression did little to disguise her surprise as she tried to conjure up an image of a Darcy who made decisions that sought first to please his heart.

"He met my mother while at the University of Washington Medical School. They were married after he graduated and decided to stay in the Seattle area and open a new branch of the company centered around cancer research, which eventually became the focus of the entire company."

"When did your family decide to make that its sole purpose?" she asked, knowing that DGT was the leader in the industry.

Meeting her eyes, William answered softly, "When my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer."

"Oh God," she blushed, "I feel like an idiot. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he reached out and ran a finger across her cheek. "We had been moving in that direction for awhile, my mother's illness simply clinched our decision."

Her embarrassment was gradually assuaged by his gentle caress and she let out a soft breath. "So, did your parents ever live at Pemberley?"

"No." He ran his hand back and forth over the ground, raking his fingers through the long blades of grass. "My grandfather died the year after my mother and my father had the house closed up." William paused, digesting his thoughts. "Last year Bingley suggested that I consider expanding our Portland labs. At first I was reluctant, but it made sense for a variety of reasons...and so I reopened Pemberley."

Elizabeth studied William's face as she realized that he was the elder in the Darcy family. She couldn't imagine dealing with the loss that had already struck his life and realized that there was really nothing appropriate to say - and so she said nothing.

Leaning back against the large oak tree, William was captivated by the intense radiance of the moon as it rose in the sky. A thick caramel hue feathered the edge of the lunar surface, blurring the sharp circular lines of its periphery, and though not at its fullest, his eye was drawn towards that elusive center as the color faded to almond. The new illumination glittered over Elizabeth's hair, and without thought he reached out to capture a lock as he uttered one simple phrase, "The moon..."

Feeling his light touch, she sighed. "It's amazing, isn't it? Away from the brightness of the city it lights up the entire sky. Sometimes in the summer, I just lay out here and watch it move along its path for hours."

They sat in silence for some time, considering everything they had shared, everything they had revealed, and everything they had learned. The sky continued to change as clouds perpetually rolled in, some moving by while others gathered, affixed in the sky, creating an opalescent film that covered the lunar image until it was hidden from their view.

The dimming of the sky reminded William of the passage of time, and the onset of night. Standing, he looked down at Elizabeth and held out his hand. "It's getting cold, we should head back."

Taking his hand, she rose and led the way.

Upon returning to the house, Elizabeth began to peel off her navy pea-coat. Hanging it in the hall closet, she turned to relieve William of his coat and hung it next to hers.

When she turned back to him, he noticed that a blush had covered her cheeks as the temperature of the air drastically increased. Touching her cheek lightly, he noted, "You're still cold. Where can we warm up?"

"Why don't you meet me in the wine room?" she said, taking a hold of the hand that grazed her cheek and squeezing it lightly. "It's down the hall, second door on your left. I'll join you in just a minute."

As Elizabeth headed up the stairs, William was able to locate the wine room easily. He paused inside the door to take in his surroundings. This was not the type of room that you would find in most homes. On his right was a massive stone fireplace that dominated the wall from which it protruded. Two of the walls in the room were lined with bookshelves, full of photos and knick-knacks as well as books. The rich cherry wood spanned from floor to ceiling and had been built around the window on the far wall and over the doorway. The wall that opposed the fireplace had obviously given this room its name. Made in a style similar to the bookshelves, the intense wood was put together in a cross-hatched fashion to hold dozens of wine bottles.

Moving around the room, William paused next to the large bar that stood in front of the wine rack. He noticed several framed pictures grouped together on one side and selected one from the center of the group. It was a snapshot of a young Elizabeth and her father. No more than twelve, in her hand she held a glass of wine that she had clearly been swirling.

"That was the summer I learned the intricacies of wine tasting," Elizabeth's voice reached out from behind him.

Turning to greet her, Darcy looked from the picture in his hand to her face and smiled. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself here," he said, placing the picture back on the bar as she walked around him.

"Well, wine tasting is a big deal for the Bennets, a rite-of-passage of sorts," she replied as she stepped behind the bar and began searching the wall of wine. Standing on her tiptoes, Elizabeth selected a bottle from one of the upper nooks.

William watched as she deftly removed the cork and set it on the bar next to the bottle. "This wine is around five years old, so it needs to breathe for about thirty minutes." Looking at the bottle, she ran her finger over the label. "1997 was a great year for Avalon. This is a favorite vintage of mine."

Moving out from behind the bar, Elizabeth guided William around the room, sharing stories as they looked at pieces of her history. In front of the fireplace she eventually paused, looking up at the picture that was displayed proudly above the mantel. "Jane painted this when we were in college."

"Ah, I see that she and Charles share more than just their mutual regard." He watched as she smiled at his comment, her eyes never leaving the painting of her family home. Glowing in the firelight, her eyes danced with affection for Avalon.

"I love just sitting in here, relaxing on winter evenings," Elizabeth said, turning to look at him. "It's my favorite room in the house." She moved to the bar, pouring two glasses of wine. "I can hide-out here, away from the noise of the kitchen and the television." Returning to his side, she offered him a glass.

"So," he accepted the wine from her, "tell me about the picture." Taking a sip of wine, William gestured towards the photo on the bar.

"Well...that was a great day. Jane and I felt very grown-up when my dad taught us how to properly taste wine. You know, the three basic steps - Look, Smell, Taste." Elizabeth held her wine glass out in front of her, tilting it to one side. "An initial check for rim color, and then the swirl." She looked up at him. "Just look at the body of this wine. Seductive, isn't it?"

William watched as she swirled the contents of her glass, her wrist twisting subtly. Although not unfamiliar with the artful techniques of wine tasting, William found himself captivated as he gazed at her. He was still trying to formulate an intelligent answer when Elizabeth moved on to smell. Noticing the rise of her chest as she inhaled deeply, he made the quick decision to set his wine glass on the table. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth took a taste of the wine. He watched as she rolled the wine around in her mouth, enjoying its flavor. As she swallowed, he once again found his voice. "Open your eyes, Elizabeth."

Taking a step closer to her, William reached out to tuck a few of her curls behind her ear. With his other hand, he took the glass of wine from her and set it on the table next to his. Leisurely, he caressed her cheek, sliding his thumb over the silky flesh.

Elizabeth found herself caught by William's intense gaze as she ran her hand up his long neck, playing nervously with the edge of his ear. Her senses heightened, she could almost hear the swoosh of the blood rushing through her vessels. All of their disagreements and uneasiness fell aside as he ran his thumb across her bottom lip, lightly skimming the rim of moisture on the inside of her mouth.

William watched as his thumb nimbly massaged her full lip, still stained red from the wine. Intoxicated by the tingling her fingers created as she ran them along the nape of his neck, he could barely bring himself to speak. "And how does it taste?" he asked, unable to pull his eyes from her mouth.

"You should try it for yourself," she replied, allowing her eyes to slip shut as she enjoyed the tenderness of his touch.

"I think I will."

William ran his hand from the side of her mouth down to her jaw and lifted it gently. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers until they met in a delicate kiss. Hesitant at first, William allowed himself to deepen the kiss when he felt her other hand move up his chest and encircle his neck. His tongue ran lightly over her bottom lip, tasting the lush flavors of cherry and plum as they coalesced on her warm flesh. Reluctantly he left her mouth, leaning close to her ear to whisper, "Spicy."

William paused for a moment, basking in her scent, lavender mingled with the aromatic offerings of the wine. Gradually, he began a deliberate journey down her jaw line, feathering kisses along the way.

Elizabeth could feel her anticipation building with each light caress. As he finally returned to her lips, she felt his long fingers wind through her thick hair - reaching up to cradle her head delicately as their lips met again...and again. She relaxed into his arms and enjoyed their mutual exploration.

Startled by a sudden crackle from the fire, Elizabeth pulled away and rested against William's chest. Giggling, she admitted, "You know, the last time I made out in my parent's home, I was in high school."

Laughing lightly, Darcy ran his fingers up through her hair again. "Should I be worried about your father discovering us?"

As she stepped back, Elizabeth could feel his fingers graze her neck and then drop slowly down her arm, clasping her hand. Feeling her skin come alive in the wake of his touch, she raised her eyes to meet his and replied with an enigmatic whisper, "No, I think we're safe...at least for a minute or two." Though she did not voice it out loud, Elizabeth was quite certain that Darcy's previous visit to Avalon had eliminated any concern her parents might have about his amorous intentions towards one of their daughters.

"I'm glad to hear it," he smiled and began to run his thumb across her palm, naturally tracing the unique creases that had been deepened by time. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

"Okay, you've got my attention." She allowed her thumbs to tangle gently with his, gradually intertwining their fingers.

"There's this charity event in early December, a benefit for cancer research. There'll be dinner and some dancing," he paused, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. "Anyway, I was wondering if you would consider attending with me."

Elizabeth thoughtfully considered his offer. "Wow, that sounds really nice...but I'm a bit surprised," she said honestly. She wasn't expecting an invitation to such a public event, they hadn't even been on a private date.

"You are?" he questioned.

"Well...what do you really know about me?" she teased him with an unsuccessful attempt at seriousness.

"I think I've learned quite a bit about you tonight," he said, the sternness of his expression failing to cover the evocative tone in his voice.

"True," she smiled suggestively as she pulled him a little closer, "but you still don't know what my favorite book is."

"That's right," he said quietly, placing a kiss next to her ear. "You never did show me. I guess you'll just have to have lunch with me so that we can discuss it."

Relieved at the chance to see him again before the charity event, she smiled in agreement, "I think that could be arranged."

"Good." William returned his attentions to her lips, brushing them delicately with his own - nipping them with a tenuous reserve.

Absorbed with her feelings, she wanted to stay like this, but knew that she needed to think about everything that had happened. "I should say goodnight. Will you be able to find your room?"

"Yes," he responded, his voice rough as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. "But I think that it's safe to say that sleep may elude me for awhile. Do mind if I stay down here a little longer?"

"Of course not." Instinctively, she ran her thumb along William's wrist, enjoying the heat created by the soft friction.

With a final squeeze to her hand, William released her and watched her move towards the door. "Sleep well, Elizabeth."

Glancing over her shoulder, she granted him an intimate smile. "Good night, William."

As she left the room, William dropped slowly to the couch, sinking into the cushions as he ran his hands over his face. He gazed into the dancing fire, seeking to slow both the speed of his pulse and the images that whirled rapidly through his mind. For once his thoughts did not return to the company, to the lab, to his responsibilities - they were engaged exclusively with the woman who had just left the room. And for once, Fitzwilliam Darcy decided to allow himself the distraction.

Chapter 4 ~ Science is Sexy

October 23, 2002

Lying across the mighty Columbia River from Fort Vancouver and the fur-trading post of the Hudson's Bay Company, Portland, Oregon epitomizes the archetypal development of a Northwest city in the early nineteenth century. Initially colonized along the Willamette River by retiring trappers migrating south to establish their own piece of God's country, the city claims its official genesis in 1843 when two New Englanders pulled their canoe ashore the river's west bank and staked a claim to this densely wooded land. Buildings sprung up quickly and before long this new development had been designated "Stumptown" as its timber was rapidly felled and shipped off to California.

One hundred years later Fitzwilliam Darcy sought to create permanent headquarters for his burgeoning medical research company and ensconce it in the heart of the city. As the Second World War ended and America's heroes returned home to reclaim their jobs, many of the Southerners who had migrated to Portland's wartime shipyards now sought to establish an abiding position in the city. The time was ripe. A shrewd but fair man, Mr. Darcy utilized the combination of funds flowing at the end of The Great Depression and the laborers readily available due to the end of the war to build his family a legacy in brick.

Standing outside The Darcy Building the young woman looked up at the exquisite exhibit of skilled masonry as the rain fell around her, pounding into the pavement. Self-preservation instincts were momentarily suspended as she studied the external architecture, pondered the scientific miracles conceived inside, and considered the man whose mere presence inside this building beckoned to her.

With a deep breath, she opened the front door and stepped inside to answer the call.

Splat.

Elizabeth Bennet gazed at the sizable drop of water that had just slipped from her saturated hair to splatter blatantly across the desk in front of her as she quickly pushed the offending ringlet from whence it had tumbled back over her shoulder. She stared at the liquid droplet as its edges began to sneak across the page it had spattered and silently prayed that the document was not crucial to the running of Darcy Genomic Technologies. "Oh my," she whispered under her breath as she slowly looked up to find herself captured by a pair of friendly brown eyes.

"Oy!" exclaimed a lyrical voice that matched perfectly with the dark eyes of its owner, who hastily grabbed a box of tissues off of her desk. "You look like you were caught in a downpour."

Accepting the proffered tissues, Elizabeth gently began to blot the papers. "I was..." she sputtered. "This is so embarrassing. I'm really sorry. You'd think I'd be more prepared for this kind of weather, I've lived here all my life."

Splat.

Elizabeth looked down, as this drop had definitely hit the floor. Not again... Things were certainly not going as planned when she had made the decision to wear her hair down this morning. Instead of presenting William with the tantalizing temptation of a sophisticated, sexy lunch date, she would be offering him the, more than likely unique, opportunity of whiling away the afternoon dining with something comparable to a drowned rodent. Although she had no evidence to support her hypothesis, Elizabeth had conjured up a surprisingly clear picture of the type of women William probably dated - refined, elegant, and drop-dead gorgeous. Well, at least I'm not like all the other girls...

Most likely noting the look of mortification on her face, the owner of the tissues took pity on her. "My name's Bianca," she said as she reached her hand across the desk in greeting. "You wouldn't happen to be Ms. Bennet, would you?"

"I am," she said before she grabbed a hold of the hand in front of her and relaxed under the anchoring reassurance of the firm grasp, "but please call me Lizzy. How did you know?"

"Call it a good guess," she smiled as her hand dropped back to her side. "Well, that and the fact that Mr. Darcy told me to expect you," she added with a wink. "Would you like me to show you back to the lab? He's waiting for you."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm sure you're busy." She shifted the strap of her leather briefcase to the opposite shoulder and let out a small sigh of relief. "I'll find my way if you point me in the right direction."

"Nonsense." Bianca rose from her chair and leaned down to grab her purse. "I need to run down to the corner Starbucks for a Carmel Frappuccino anyway."

Elizabeth's inquisitive gaze ran from the face of this perky woman to the Starbucks coffee cup that sat in the center of her desk and back up again, a questioning look in her eye.

Bianca laughed, "You caught me. I've a bit of an obsession." Her voice had dropped to a whisper, though Elizabeth suspected that this shared fact was really no secret. She started around the desk and then paused, reaching into one of its drawers.

A picture on the corner of the desk grabbed Elizabeth's attention, and she picked it up for a closer inspection. "Is this your husband?" she asked as Bianca rifled through the large bottom desk drawer.

"I wish," came the enthusiastic reply. "My husband's a wonderful man...but, he's no British hottie. That man," she said, indicating the photograph, "is another small obsession of mine." Bianca grinned at Elizabeth as she took the picture from her hand and replaced it with a pair of safety goggles that she had finally located in her drawer. "Still," her voice was fanciful as she placed the photo back on her desk, "a girl can dream."

"Ummm..." Elizabeth concurred, "and what a dream he is." Without thought, she began to examine the unusual glasses, noticing the sleek design, lubricious under her touch. "Do you know why these safety glasses are tinted blue?"

"I'm not sure...that pair belongs to Mr. Darcy. But I think the tint is supposed to cut down on the glare of the lights," she responded while leading them towards a long hallway.

"That makes sense...I guess." The fluorescent glow that filled the hallway they currently negotiated was intense - in fact, Elizabeth could now clearly see the multicolored highlights that was tastefully splayed through her guide's hair - a style that fit her. The bright light permeated the lengthy corridor, displaying the visible spectrum to its fullest and adding to the clean, crisp appearance that characterized medical labs. "Does everyone around here wear these?" she asked, trying not to appear too distracted by the glimpses of laboratories that teased her through windows.

"Not exactly. Those are bulletproof, you know." The unusual observation brought them to a stop in front of a lab door.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow as her lips hinted at the smile that represented a tickle in her brain. "Do I need to worry about being shot here?"

Laughter filled the hallway in response. "Oh no," Bianca said, glancing up through the door window in front of them. "I think you're in very good hands."

Moments after Bianca had escaped the building in pursuit of the pleasure that legally addictive liquid stimulants can supply, Elizabeth stood perfectly still admiring the scene in front of her through glass interwoven with safety wire. William sat next to a computer on one side of the room deep in conversation with a woman whose body movements and facial expressions showed both comfort and ownership - this was her lab.

Elizabeth smiled when William briefly tore his attention from his colleague and caught a glimpse of her at the door. She watched him excuse himself as he began to move towards her, his long frame accentuated by a crisp white lab coat that drew a direct contrast to his dark features.

"Hello, Elizabeth," William welcomed her as he opened the door. His eyes greeted her with other words - words unspoken by his voice. I'm glad you're here.

"Hi," she smiled as she glanced towards the woman he had been talking to. "I hope I'm not interrupting you."

"Not at all, we were just finishing up." His glance darted briefly around the room and then rested again on her. "Please come in. "

Elizabeth casually slipped on the safety glasses as she followed William across the room towards his associate. She moved slowly, taking in her environment with eyes that betrayed a complete state of wonder. The feeling had washed over her the moment she stepped into the room, and even now continued to envelope her with a distracting force. To say that the lab was impressive could not begin to do it justice. Pristine chemical-resistant epoxy topped lab benches boasted the latest microscope equipment against their non-glare ebony surfaces and instantly Elizabeth yearned to investigate the miniature secrets held within these four walls.

"I'd like you to meet a colleague of mine, Elizabeth." The rich sound of William's voice broke her deliberations of the diminutive and returned her attention to the room's occupants. "This is Dr. Kerry Slapsmore, one of our lead cell biologists," he said, indicating the woman next to him. "Kerry, this is a friend of mine, Elizabeth Bennet."

"G'Day, Ms. Bennet," she said, extending her hand.

Elizabeth studied the tall woman as they clasped hands, considering her distinct accent. "It's very nice to meet you. Please call me Lizzy," she requested cheerfully.

"Only if you call me Kerry." The smile she displayed was genuine and spoke of a friendly nature.

"Kerry started at the Portland lab about the same time I moved down here from Seattle," Darcy explained. "You may have noticed that we imported her from Australia."

"Guilty as charged," Kerry grinned. "I'm straight from Oz."

"You left Australia and intentionally moved into all of this rain?" Elizabeth challenged with a slight tone of disbelief as her mind created images of sandy beaches and warm weather - she could practically feel a Shiraz rolling over her tongue.

"They made me an offer too good to resist...the chance to work at DGT."

"She's being modest," Darcy interjected. "Dr. Slapsmore did her graduate research in mitochondrial DNA. The paper she published held significant implications for the field of cellular research."

"Listen to him," Kerry laughed, "I almost sound important. What do you do, Lizzy?"

Splat.

Elizabeth looked up nervously. "I'm really sorry. I got a bit wet on the way over. But then," she added, feeling her hair, "you may have already noticed that."

"Don't worry about it," William said as he walked over to a counter to retrieve a paper towel and then proceeded to dry the spot on the floor.

Returning her attention to Kerry, she answered the previously posed question. "I run a vineyard in the Willamette Valley."

"Now there's a job that must be interesting," Kerry mused. Seeking to further the conversation, she followed with a question. "So, is this your first visit to DGT?"

Allowing a hint of her burgeoning excitement to reflect in her voice, Elizabeth replied, "It is." She glanced up at Darcy. "Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll even get to look around while I'm here."

Kerry nodded towards Darcy. "Well, if he doesn't show you around, give me a yell and I'll take you around the place."

"That's very nice of you..."

"But I'm sure we'll be just fine," Darcy interrupted.

Raising her eyebrows at her boss, Kerry snickered slightly, "I'm sure that you will."

"Well," she continued after a moment's pause, "I've got to get back to work...you never know when the boss might pop in."

"Is he really awful then? Watches you all the time?" Elizabeth joined in with the light-hearted ribbing.

"You have no idea," Kerry said as she winked at her boss.

"Good bye, Kerry," William said with a hint of finality.

"See ya, Darcy. Nice to meet you Lizzy."

"Great to meet you, too," Elizabeth smiled sincerely.

Kerry turned to leave, but then paused as Darcy's voice called out to her. "Oh, one more thing, Kerry. Would you mind setting up a couple of live slides for me in the glow lab?"

She looked at him quizzically for a few moments and then broke into a smile. "No worries."

Elizabeth watched as the door shut behind Kerry and then slowly turned, aware of the stillness of the room and the commanding presence of the man in front of her. It had been two and a half weeks since he sweetly kissed her goodbye on the back patio...just missing the curious glances of Charles and Jane. And though her body was completely exhausted from the rigors of harvest, her mind had spent an abundance of those long hours walking the fields of grapes, contemplating the thoughts they had shared on a moonlit evening, and remembering the softness of his lips.

"So," the excitement in her smile thinly disguised her nervousness. "How have you been?"

"Good, though not nearly as busy as you," he replied. Moving to the lab bench, he shut down the computer with a quick efficiency. "You're a hard woman to get a hold of."

"I can't deny that. Harvest is my life for a couple of weeks each year."

"I understand," he said, returning to her side. "It gets like that around here sometimes." Darcy removed his safety glasses to exchange them for the glasses he had pulled from his pocket.

Noticing the edge of his sleeve, Elizabeth reached out to capture his wrist and brush her hand across the cuff. "Tell me, just where does one get a monogrammed lab coat?"

"Actually, I just send them to my tailor. He does all of my monogramming." William paused, studying the playful glint in her expression. "Oh...you're teasing me."

"No, no...I'm sure it's quite the thing." Elizabeth waved her hand around lightly. "Everyone here must have it done."

Splat.

"Oh God, this is really getting embarrassing." More like mortifying... Not only was she making a complete mess of the place, but now her safety glasses were beginning to fog up as the water from her hair vaporized into a room that seemed to be generating more than its fair share of heat.

"Come on." William placed his hand on her back. "Let's get you dried off and then we can talk about lunch."

A few minutes later Elizabeth found herself standing in the middle of a spacious office, not entirely certain that she could navigate her way there again. Darcy's touch had been...distracting. To say the least.

"Let me get you a towel," he said, fingering one of her curls lightly.

"Thank you," she replied, slipping her glasses off. Elizabeth moved around the room, intrigued by the stark contrasts she observed and the way that they reflected on its owner...professional but pleasurable, functional but fascinating, laborious but leisurely.

Removing her long wool coat, she hung it on a coat tree near the door and gradually drifted away from Darcy's large desk to sit on a couch in the opposite corner of the room. As she sunk into its deep cushions, Elizabeth plopped her bag on the floor with a sigh of relief.

William emerged from the bathroom, towel in hand. "Where would you like to go for lunch?" he asked, handing her the thick, white towel.

"Actually," Elizabeth said from under the towel she had now draped over her head, "I brought lunch with me."

"You brought lunch with you?" William asked with an inflection of surprise as he took a seat next to her on the couch.

"I hope you don't mind. I thought that we could eat here and then maybe I could convince you to show me around the lab." She wrapped the ends of her hair in the towel, allowing it to soak up the remaining excess of water.

"I'll bet that you can be very convincing," he said with a wry smile. "Still, we could have picked up something at the corner deli."

"It was really no trouble. I've been eating my mother's cooking for a few weeks now. That's always her major contribution to harvest...she loves to feed us all." As she folded the towel into quarters, Elizabeth started to rise, halting when Darcy shook his head. When he nodded towards the floor, she dropped the towel before reaching into her bag and pulling out several small containers. "Anyway, this is nothing fancy, but it felt good to get back into the kitchen."

"I'm sure it will be delicious." William brushed his hand lightly over her leg. "But next time, you've got to let me take you out."

"I'm starting to think you're just afraid to eat my cooking." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she made her declaration, rolling her gaze slowly between his hand and the dark eyes that focused his attention entirely on her. She was quite taken in by the grin that William flashed her. He looked so comfortable here with his long legs stretched out next to her, secure in his own domain.

"On the contrary, I'm quite looking forward to it now. Break out the food." He reached for the containers she had piled on the coffee table and began to open them.

As he worked, Elizabeth took the opportunity to retrieve a bottle of wine from her bag and set it on the table. "I need your help with something."

Eyeing the bottle of wine, Darcy chuckled. "You need my help getting drunk?"

"Actually," she said procaciously, "I was hoping to get your opinion on something, but if you're not comfortable drinking at work, I brought water as well."

"No, no...I took the afternoon off." Darcy looked at her, eyebrow raised. "You want my opinion on wine?"

"I do!" Elizabeth fumbled around in her bag momentarily before producing the required corkscrew. "This bottle contains a bit of an experiment. Have you heard of a process called chaptalization?"

"I can't say that I have." His expression told her that his curiosity was piqued.

"Do you have any cups or glasses?" As Darcy retrieved the glassware she continued, expertly removing the cork while she delved into an explanation.

"Chaptalization is the addition of sugar to wines," her description was offered as he set the glasses on the coffee table.

"To increase sweetness or fermentation?" William resumed his position next to her on the couch.

"You know, that's what I like about you," she reflected, pouring the wine. "You always ask the right questions."

Content with the opportunity to watch her, Darcy's eyes brushed over her as he deadpanned, "It's a gift. I come by it naturally."

Smacking his leg lightly, she laughed. "Your humility is stunning."

"Yes, yes..." he said, catching her hand, "but you still haven't answered my question."

"Right...your question. Fermentation, the sugar is added for fermentation purposes. It's only used on grape crops with reduced photosynthetic potential due to lack of sun exposure." Elizabeth paused with a gesture towards the rain-splattered windows. "You can imagine that the procedure might come in handy around here."

"Do many vineyards use it?" he asked as she freed her hand to reach for the wine glasses.

"Actually, a handful of them do. It's illegal in warmer states, like California, but several of the Oregon vineyards are experimenting with it now. The concept is not new, it's just new to this area of the world. Chaptalization has been a viticultural practice since Roman times."

Accepting a glass of wine from her, he asked, "So, now Avalon is interested in chaptalizing some of their wines?"

"I'm not sure...maybe," she replied. "To be honest, it all depends on me. That's what the experiment is about. The point of creating the extra alcohol is to keep the wine balanced. None of that matters if the wine gives the sense of being jacked-up with the additional alcohol, as the quality of a wine is determined by the balance between acid, pH, and sugar."

William ran his hand along the rim of his glass. "So, if the balance in this wine is good, you'll begin utilizing the process at the vineyard?"

"I think so. There has traditionally been a stigma about adding sugar to your wines - it was considered a type of cheating, of sorts. Recently, there's been a real change in those opinions and the practice is becoming more and more acceptable in the Willamette Valley."

He nodded and placed the glass at his lower lip, pausing to breathe in the wine's rich scent. Meeting Elizabeth's eyes he lingered over the first taste.

"So, what do you think? Is it tolerable?" she asked, desirous of his opinion.

"I don't notice anything out of balance." His smile was barely perceptible. "I think it's more than tolerable, but then, my palate is not as developed as yours."

"Maybe not in this area, but I get the sense that you know what you like."

"Oh yes," he said with an evocative tone, "I definitely know what I like."

"I'm being to understand that." The room was filled with a silent pause as Elizabeth watched him roll another sip of wine across his tongue while he held her gaze.

Finally, William set his glass on the table. "Thinking about this now, your work seems so much more interesting than mine."

She laughed. "I think we both know that's not true at all. I'll grant you that vineyards do give the appearance of romance and beauty, but what could be more beautiful than saving lives? Plus, it's all an illusion. I've been mucking around in the mud day and night for almost three weeks now - that's the reality of life on a vineyard."

Looking at the large spread of food before him, William selected a piece of cheese. "So, is there much left to do now?"

Her response led to tales of Avalon's harvest and the grape crush that followed, which amused and charmed William as the afternoon was spent in an agreeable fashion and they lingered for several hours over the consumption of food and wine. Eventually, Elizabeth broke out her favorite book and read to him as she had previously promised to do - setting off a conversation on the influence of literature in their lives.

When they finally finished eating, William returned the lids to their containers and stacked them in a neat assortment on the table. "Thank you for lunch."

"You're welcome," she responded with a smile, grabbing her bag to pack up the empty containers.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Elizabeth exclaimed, reaching into her bag, she pulled out a thin item. "I brought you something."

Intrigued, Darcy responded, "You did?"

"This is for you," she said, handing him a manila envelope.

"A gift?" William slid his hand into the envelope as he posed his question.

With a smile, she nodded slightly. "A memory."

As he gradually pulled out a piece of linen paper, his eyes flared with recognition. "A very good memory."

Elizabeth watched as he delicately ran his hand over the wine stained image of her feet. "I'm glad you think so."

A comfortable silence fell over them as they both, respectively, reflected on the full range of their shared experiences and wondered at what the future might hold. After a few contemplative minutes, Elizabeth broke the silence. "So, have I convinced you to show me your labs?"

"I think we might be able to arrange that." Rising, Darcy moved across the room and gently laid the print on his desk. Returning to her side, he reached for Elizabeth's hand and with a small tug, pulled her from the couch.

"Here, put on one of these," William offered as he removed a lab coat from the coat tree and held it open for her.

Slipping her arm into the coat, Elizabeth laughed. "This is so clean and official looking. You should see the one I have at the vineyard's lab."

"Dirty, is it?"

"More than likely, but you could never tell. I tie-dyed it with my favorite varieties of wine back in college." Elizabeth looked down at the sleeves that hung several inches past her fingertips.

"Let me help you with that," he said, reaching down he took hold of her sleeve and began rolling it up towards her wrist.

"Thank you." Elizabeth watched as he folded the second sleeve to accommodate her shorter frame, enjoying the tickle of his fingers along her palm.

"Come," he said softly. With fluid motion he raised her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across the sensitive flesh of her wrist. "Explore the Darcy legacy with me."

The next hour and a half was filled with the delights of a shared passion for science and enhanced by the mutually agreeable company as they moved from one impressive laboratory to another. She could see the professional mask that Darcy had donned the minute they stepped outside his office. Throughout the afternoon, a wide variety of faculty was encountered - postdoctoral and medical fellows, graduate students, technical lab staff...and William knew them all by name. They observed scientists conducting experiments, analyzing data, and even composing journal articles for publication, and Darcy faced each one with a reserved kindness. Watching him interact with his colleagues, Elizabeth mulled over the many shades of this man.

For his part, William found himself flattered by Elizabeth's obvious interest in his work and impressed by her subtly revealed knowledge. And though his appearance remained impassive on the surface - in truth, he found the entire afternoon to be quite stimulating.

Eventually, they found themselves at the end of a hallway on the third floor of the building. Removing his safety glasses, William gestured for her to do the same and he placed them both in the pocket of his lab coat. "We won't need those anymore."

Reaching for her hand, Darcy moved slowly towards a door at the end of the passageway. "Come on, there's one more thing I want to show you."

Surprised by his public touch, Elizabeth glanced around to find the hallway abandoned, save for themselves. "Alright," she looked to William with curiosity and moved through the door he held open for her. Elizabeth could feel herself succumbing to the heady combination of wine, pheromones, and kick-ass lab equipment and while sliding past him quickly, she glanced up and began to wonder if it was Darcy's body or his mind that had her so affected. But then, there's nothing like a potent combination of the two to send a girl's stomach into a flutter. The room was dark and before she could acquaint herself with her surroundings the warmth of William's breath flowed over her ear as his fingers grazed the small of her back, inciting a small riot amongst her nerve endings - the polarity of the tingle pulling her brain in two directions and taking siege of the moment

"I'm not going to turn on the lights," he said as his fingertips began to sink into her skin with a soft, circular motion. "We'll need the dark for what I'm going to show you."

Sure that he was joking, Elizabeth turned to offer up her mock indignation, but his eyes met hers through the darkness with an intense sincerity and he nudged her towards a lab bench in the center of the room. "We've been working on this project for the last couple of years," he explained as he leaned over to turn on the specialized bioccular microscope before them. A stream-lined light flashed onto the microscope stage, its acute beam an obvious contrast to the darkness that surrounded them. Studying the piece of equipment before her, Elizabeth was certain that she was looking at an object worth more than her yearly income...a fact initially difficult to justify, but made easier to swallow down when the ramifications of the work done in this lab were considered. Science was expensive. Gradually, her attention turned from machine to man and she focused on his precisely choreographed movements - a methodical dance between an animal and its environment that could only have been formed by habit. William clearly spent time here.

"Have you heard about the insertion of bioluminescence genes from fireflies into other cells?" William tossed the question over his shoulder in a deceptively innocuous tone, the gentle probe truly rooted in his desire to investigate her knowledge of his world. He continued to riffle through a rack of slides until his fingers settled on one and he placed it carefully onto the microscope.

"Do you mean the gene that produces luciferase?" Elizabeth could feel her curiosity growing by the second when William nodded in response as he began to focus the cooperative lenses. Reaching out, she brushed his arm - a silent plea for his attention. "You're making your genes glow?"

Looking up at her he noticed the momentarily embryonic excitement rapidly come of age in her eyes and his gaze lingered to relish the experience. Returning his attention to the microscope, he reached down to snap off the light and submerge them into total darkness. "I'm glad to see you're familiar with the idea." Though, in truth, he was a bit surprised. But then, Elizabeth constantly surprised him - it was part of her charm.

The lack of light had cut off one of Elizabeth's key senses and she instinctively responded by moving closer to the warmth and protection of the body next to her. "I wrote a paper on it in college. It's easy to remember because the enzyme was named after Lucifer, the mythical ruler of the underworld. You know, hellish flames and all." She laughed at the memory. "Actually, that may be one of the few things I still remember from biochemistry."

"Somehow I doubt that," William responded as he stood, stretching to his full height. "We've been inserting the luciferase gene into cells that have a high chance of containing certain oncogenes. It serves as a beacon to mark those potential cancer cells for us as we watch them divide and they become very easy to track. Take a look for yourself."

Elizabeth felt his soft grip on her shoulders and through no effort of her own, she found herself aligned perfectly with the microscope. Reaching out she stroked her hand along its cool surface and easily adjusted the dual lenses to conform to her smaller face.

Streaks of light cut through the dark, the incandescent glow calling for attention. But as Elizabeth held steady her eyes grew accustomed to the contrast - light on dark and she began to see the patterns that wound in a simple elegance upon the thin slip of glass.

"Tell me what you see, Elizabeth," the rich voice whispered into her ear while his fingers tangled softly through her hair.

"Well light...of course." Frankly, she was finding it hard to concentrate on the slide while his touch continued to evoke a tingling that started at her crown and wandered slowly down her neck and shoulders.

"And?" The softness of the question did not negate the sincere interest in his voice and that fact alone restored a portion of Elizabeth's ability to focus.

"Honestly? My eyes see light, but my mind sees much more than that." She tilted her head slightly to the side, running her gaze up William's body until their eyes met and locked in a bond covalent in its nature - sharing thoughts before they were spoken. "I sense history here, lifetimes dedicated to cellular research. And I see the future as well, what can be." Elizabeth broke off the look that held them conjoined and turned back to the microscope. After a few moments she continued softly, "I see the art of science - the unknown force that shapes and cycles life in its purest element."

"Yes," came his fervent agreement seconds before she his felt lips graze the sensitive flesh below her ear. All thoughts of DNA, bioluminescence, and gene transfer were lost to a need evolved with time and embedded in humanity as genes call out to their next generation - the progenerative burn of desire.

Stillness possessed the moment and Elizabeth lingered in it, enjoying the shivers his lips sent across her skin - a sensory impulse that embodied pure anticipation. Turning to him slowly, she reached for the dark curls that fell across his forehead, noticing the gradual increase in the rate of his respiration as her fingers pressed his face in a light exploration.

William could feel his body eagerly straining to catch up with the step his mind had just taken towards Elizabeth. With a gentle firmness he took possession of her waist and pulled her into his embrace, willingly giving into the magnetic force drawing him down her jaw to the promising softness of her lips.

Passion surged to immerse them in a kiss and then ebbed when William pulled back to nuzzle Elizabeth's hair. Playfully he nipped at her neck as he nudged them away from the microscope. Without warning, Darcy's embrace tightened and Elizabeth found herself suddenly perched on the lab bench in front of him.

Reaching down, he picked up her leg and with a deliberate motion ran his hand under the cuff of her woolen slacks. "You have a very nice soleus here."

She laughed as his fingers began to massage her lower leg. "You've noticed them?"

Allowing his free hand to rest lightly on her opposite thigh, he responded. "Oh yes, I definitely noticed these at the vineyard."

"So, it was my legs that caught your interest," she said archly.

"Yes," he replied, reaching higher on her calf. "Your gastrocnemius is also very impressive."

"You're flirting with me." The statement was somewhere between an accusation and a question. In truth, she was surprised; she had not seen foreseen this side of his personality and was pleased at its appearance.

William leaned closer and met her eyes in the darkened room. "I'm glad you noticed."

With slow deliberation he moved his hands to her waist, caressing the full length of her legs along the journey.

Elizabeth reached out to stroke his cheek as his face drew near hers. The roughness of his early-evening beard invoked a tingle along the sensitive flesh of her palm and she sighed as his lips met hers again.

William could feel himself being pulled deeper into the kiss as his body relinquished itself to the pleasure until, out of breath, they broke apart to answer the pleading of their lungs. As the oxygen levels in his blood began to rise, his body sought to explore the other delights displayed temptingly in front of him - and leaving her waist, his hand moved upwards, bisecting her abdomen. With a gentle touch, his palm splayed wide over the soft flesh covering her sternum, the tips of his fingers skimming her throat. He could feel her heartbeat beneath his hand...lub dub, lub dub, lub dub...

As Elizabeth savored the caress, her head rolled slightly from side to side until William leaned in to capture her mouth with a hunger that surpassed the delicate touches of earlier. Enjoying the decreased inhibitions that frequently accompany the dark, he continued his explorations without hesitation or self-doubt. Caught up in the undisguised need that his kisses were building within her, she could feel a pulsing course through her body - whoosh, whoosh, whoosh... Faster and faster the throbbing continued until it oscillated down her spine and broke into a clangorous racket that's suddenness severed their embrace with a startled confusion.

Adrenaline was coursing through Darcy's vessels as he sought to regain the alertness and clarity of all of his senses. Looking over Elizabeth's shoulder, he determined that the large centrifuge he had leaned her up against was now running at top speed - spinning unbalanced and out of control. Quickly, he reached around her and snapped it off, abruptly ending the rampant vibrations.

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, pleased to see his breathing as unsteady as her own. "Wow, this lab is amazing."

"Yes, more amazing than I had realized..." he agreed, his voice thick as he lifted her down from the lab bench.

"The attractions in here are so interesting, in fact, that I've lost all track of time," she noted, glancing at her watch. "I'm going to have to get going. I'm meeting my father for dinner."

"Are you meeting downtown?" he asked, guiding her towards the door.

Grasping the door handle, she responded, "Yes, at a little Greek restaurant on Third Avenue."

Darcy covered her hand with his own as she pulled the door open. "Why don't you let me drop you off there? I really don't want you walking in the rain again."

Pausing in the doorway, she turned to look up at him. "Okay, that would be nice."

William knew that he would be thinking of the soft smile that graced her face for days to come - and the thought pleased him. "Thank you for lunch, Elizabeth."

Squeezing his hand lightly, she vocalized her honest hope, "It was only the first of many."

Distractions - An Avalon Dessert Interlude

Posted on Saturday, 22 March 2003, at 7:54 p.m.

November 3, 2002 - 1:30pm

"Spumoni, cannoli, and gelato."

Elizabeth smiled at the deep voice which rolled off vowels with ease and met her companion's eyes over the top of his menu. "All very tantalizing...especially the cannoli, it's been a long time since I've had any."

"How about the trio di crème brulee?" William suggested, giving every appearance of being completely engrossed in both the dessert menu and his date. "A combination of three types of brulee - white chocolate, amarena cherry and sambuca."

She set her napkin on the table as a waiter cleared the remains of her rollatini di saltimbocca away. "Ummm...sambuca. I do love black licorice."

"Sorbet? They've got both mango and peach," he said, raising an eyebrow in her direction. "We could just order one of each and try them all."

"That's a very generous offer," Elizabeth acknowledged as she lightly ran her hand over the crease in the napkin before her, "but I think that might just be too much pleasure for one afternoon. Besides, I couldn't even finish my chicken."

"I'm sure there's no such thing as too much pleasure." William declared, setting down the menu. "So, it's still tiramisu?"

"Yep."

His hand moved slowly across the table until his fingers grazed hers. "I can't entice you into trying something different?"

Turning her hand over to intertwine with his long fingers, she replied, "No, but you get five stars for effort." Elizabeth allowed her eyes to slip shut for a moment, enjoying the warm touch, the soft sounds of music mixed with the tinkling of silver as it came into contact with bone-china, and the anticipation of complete indulgence in sugary delights. The luxury of the moment surrounded her...briefly...

Rapp, Rapp, Rapp...

Elizabeth's eyes flew open to rest upon the unwelcome site of a thinning comb-over being patted down while its owner waved franticly at the window in front of her. Disquieted by the image before her, she turned her gaze from the street outside back to the man next to her, her wide-eyed expression speaking volumes. Why had she requested a window seat?

Moments later Mr. Collins's voice preceded his presence as he followed a waiter to his seat several tables away. Pausing in front of his seat just long enough to shoo along the hostess, he quickly shrugged out of his jacket and made a beeline for their table.

"Ms. Bennet, I'm on my way to the little boys room," he revealed, placing a secretive finger to his lips. "I just had to come over and say hello. What a coincidence running into you here!"

"How true, Mr. Collins. You can't imagine my surprise." Elizabeth paused as her mind took note of the man standing before her. This was simply not possible. She looked towards William briefly and then back to Bill Collins. The men were dressed very near to identically in black turtleneck sweaters and woolen slacks, but their appearance could not have been more dissimilar. While the soft yarn accentuated William's broad shoulders and muscular torso, the unsuspecting fibers had been stretched to their limit to accommodate Mr. Collins's roundly thickened abdomen which was cruelly contained in a garment one size too small. Elizabeth fought the urge to reach out and stroke those tortured threads in a soothing manner. "Umm...you remember Mr. Darcy, don't you?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Darcy," he exclaimed with a repressed enthusiasm while reaching for William's hand. "Of course. I spoke to your aunt not even an hour ago and it is my greatest pleasure to assure you of her good health."

Darcy watched as the man's leer immediately returned to Elizabeth and he wavered between amusement and annoyance. "I'm glad to hear that Aunt Catherine is well. Are you here to meet a date?" The hint was enhanced when William stretched out his long fingers to regrasp Elizabeth's hand.

"No, no," Mr. Collins choked on a short cough, "I'm meeting one of our clients for lunch." Having paid his respects to Mr. Darcy, he tried to center his focus entirely on Elizabeth, but found himself plagued by continual distraction as his gaze repeatedly returned to their joined hands. "Did you two just bump into each other here?"

Elizabeth shook her head mildly. "Actually, we're heading over to the Schnitz. Lou Rawls is giving an afternoon performance today."

"I see." Mr. Collins displayed a terse smile. "I myself have often enjoyed a show at the Arlene Schnitzer concert hall, it's such a grand theatre. It is unfortunate that you couldn't see it at night in all its glory."

"Well, maybe next time. It was nice to see you," Elizabeth commented with a gracious smile, as their waiter approached. There was no way that she was going to continue this conversation by admitting that she had seen the Schnitz in the evening on numerous occasions. Some things were just better left unsaid. "We don't want to keep you from your business."

"Yes, of course." He bestowed her with an undisguised wink and a slight bow. "I hope to see you again very soon."

When at last Mr. Collins scurried off to the restroom and they had placed their dessert order, Elizabeth let out a long sigh, looking up at Darcy. Shaking her head, she couldn't contain her melodious laughter and let it overflow unrestrained until finally, a penitent look took its place as she pulled herself together. "I know I shouldn't laugh..."

"No, no....It's perfectly understandable," William allowed. "In fact, it's quite preferable to my reaction."

Her eyes flared at his comment. "That man is incorrigible."

"He seems to be very taken with you," William observed.

"Yes," she agreed with a plaintive smiled, "lucky for me. So, when do you leave for the Washington D.C. conference?"

"I fly out on Tuesday, but the actual conference doesn't begin until Thursday." Darcy's hand ran alongside his glass, absently fingering the drops of condensation that had gathered around the crystal highball, distorting the look of the pellucid amber liquid it contained. "There are several informal meetings with congressional members scheduled for the following week."

"Oh," Elizabeth remarked teasingly, "Do you meet with members of congress often?"

"Actually, we generally just email." His full-on serious demeanor was followed almost immediately by a crooked smile. "Really, it's all very informal."

Elizabeth was still laughing when a waiter arrived at their table a few moments later, bearing not the highly anticipated desserts, but rather a voluptuous glass overflowing with fruit and whipped cream. She just stared as he set the drink in front of her, reluctantly intruding on their privacy. "I'm sorry to interrupt ma'am, but this is from the gentleman at the bar."

Gradually she lifted her eyes from the glass to meet William's curious visage. Pausing only for a few seconds, her gaze shifted purposely towards the virtually abandoned bar to rest upon the all-too-real image of Bill Collins precariously perched on a bar stool, attempting to dial his cell phone.

"The gentleman," the waiter announced while tilting his head towards the bar, "wanted me to assure you that this drink is a virgin pina colada, due to the early hour of the day."

Elizabeth's attention refocused on the curvaceous container and then shifted to her half-full wine glass. "How considerate."

Clearing his throat, the waiter slid a napkin in front of her, the white paper blending easily with the well blanched, crisply starched linens. "He also asked me to give you this. I'll be right back with your desserts."

As he walked swiftly towards the kitchen, Elizabeth picked up the napkin, reading its hastily scribbled message out loud. Elizabeth my sumptuous fruit, your beauty continues to tempt me. Are you free Friday evening?

"He's asking me out," she said, shaking her head. "I can't believe it."

William pushed his chair back from the table. "I'll go speak with him before he really makes a fool of himself."

"No, no," she countered as the waiter arrived with dessert. "He will not distract us from our date. Besides, your cannoli has arrived and I need to try a bite."

The decision was made for them as Collins's voice rose above the general chatter of the room. "You're breaking up...can you hear me?" his voice escalated in frustration as he moved across the room, cell phone clutched closely to his head. "How about now, can you hear me now?"

The sound of the door closing was followed by a deafening silence and Elizabeth let out her breath with relief. Feelings of frustration and embarrassment for the man tugged at her, but she put those aside and focused on the suggestive smile William had leveled at her.

"Can I interest you in a bite?" He held his pistachio laden fork up for her inspection.

Sliding her chair closer to him, Elizabeth opened her mouth to accept the proffered treat. "Oh, this is wonderful."

"But not as good as the tiramisu?" Darcy questioned, tasting the dessert for himself.

"Well," she said picking up her fork while she surveyed the work of art before her. "Pazzo's tiramisu made the top ten list for Oregon." Slipping the fist bite into her mouth, she savored the taste of a perfectly blended culinary creation.

"They rate that sort of thing?" Darcy asked, shaking his head. "I had no idea."

"Oh yes, dessert is no small thing. There is a constant debate over the most appropriate alcohol to accentuate the mascarpone cheese - brandy or Marsala wine."

William offered her another bite of cannoli, as he found watching her every bit as satisfying as any dessert induced dopamine high. "And what's your favorite?"

Absently, she traced a pattern with her fork through the chocolate swirls that decorated her plate. "I know you're expecting me to say the wine. But to be honest, I really like it made with brandy."

Elizabeth turned her fork on its side, slicing through the espresso moistened ladyfingers with a refined precision. With a slight lean towards his body, she offered the bite to William's lips. "Would you like to try it?"

"How could I refuse such an inviting offer?" He placed his hand on her thigh as she served him.

The musical sound of a cell phone broke into the conversation and several people at nearby tables began to check their bags or pockets. When the tune started to repeat itself, Elizabeth realized that the phone was, in fact, hers. Reaching into her bag, she remarked apologetically, "Excuse me, I didn't think to turn the ringer off - no one ever calls me on the weekends."

"Don't worry about it," he replied as she pushed a small button, connecting her to the caller.

"Hello?"

"It's me," the voice held a nasal quality that was, unfortunately, familiar. "Just act normal, don't let him know who you're talking to."

Elizabeth glanced out the window where she could see Collins on the sidewalk, hovering over his phone while he plugged the opposite ear with his finger. "Why are you calling me? And for that matter, how did you get this number?"

As her unusual questions registered in his mind, Darcy looked up to catch Elizabeth's eye with concern. Her response was a simple nod towards the window. With a quizzical look, William turned to behold the overtly conspicuous bobbing of Mr. Collins's head as he spoke into the phone.

"Now Miss Elizabeth, don't be concerned. I simply called the office and had them look up your cellular number. It was listed in your client file."

The irritation in her voice could not be mistaken. "That is a private number, Mr. Collins!"

"Oh, you don't have to worry, I wouldn't share it with anyone..." A clattering followed the abruptly ended statement - and then the voice was back, hinting at a befuddled disconcertion. "He didn't hear you use my name, did he? I just knew that you needed my help...I could not help but notice the overtures that man was making towards you. Is he sexually harassing you?"

"I'm hanging up now, Mr. Collins. Enjoy your lunch." Elizabeth couldn't prevent the laughter that bubbled out of her. Smiling at William, she shook her head at the absurdity of the situation and dropped the phone back into her purse.

"Maybe we should just get going," she suggested, still laughing. "Who knows what he has planned next."

He nodded, glancing down at his watch. "The concert starts in about an hour. We could head over, if you like."

"Let's go. I've had more than enough food." Elizabeth stood, stretching slightly and reached for coat.

"Here, let me help you with that." Darcy relieved her of the winter jacket and courteously held it open.

Picking up her purse, Elizabeth noticed him quietly set twenty dollars on top of the already paid bill and tossed him a questioning look.

William's eyes moved across the room to rest on the waiter, who was once again standing patiently next to a table as Mr. Collins droned on. A slight smile touched his lips, "Oh, he's more than earned it."

Continued in the next section