Work Text:
I.
Darcy was late for work. He was never late for work, but today was a bit of a comedy of errors. There was Georgiana's mini-crisis about breakfast (they'd run out of her cereal so he cooked her eggs), and his electric shaver died so he had to shave with a regular razor, and by leaving the house later than usual he got stuck behind a couple of school buses, and then had trouble finding parking. But the why didn't matter—he just had to get to his first meeting of the day.
He hurried through the lobby of his office building and caught the elevator just in time, sticking his arm in to force the doors into reopening. He pressed the button for floor 10 out of force of habit, only vaguely registering that it was already lit, then leaned against the back wall and sighed as the doors closed again.
The only other occupant of the elevator was a young woman. He happened to look over at her when the elevator started moving. She was giving him a saucy look, with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “What—you don't trust me to push the button right?” she asked.
Darcy bristled. He was the CEO of Pemberley Digital, an important and respected man. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of saucy looks and sarcastic questions. He pointedly looked away and didn't answer.
The two of them rode up in an uncomfortable silence and turned in opposite directions when they finally exited.
He put the incident out of his mind and went about the rest of his day.
II.
About a week later, Darcy came in late again. This time it was due to a breakfast meeting at 7 a.m., so he was expecting to arrive later than his usual hour, but he still needed to hustle to be on time for his 9 o'clock.
He called the elevator and while he was waiting, another person walked up and stood to wait next to him. He glanced up from his phone and was pretty sure it was the same woman he'd shared the elevator with the other day. He frowned and looked back down.
When the elevator doors opened he let her on first, of course. She went to the back corner of the near side, leaving him the side with the number panel, but when he went to press the 10 she lunged forward suddenly and got it first. He looked at her quizzically, a cross between miffed and confused, and she grinned at him.
“You really pride yourself on your button-pressing abilities,” he said to her, and she gave a short breathy laugh behind her hand.
“Just trying to save you the trouble,” she replied lightly.
She had a nice voice, but that was neither here nor there.
He ignored her for the rest of the ride, and they once again left the elevator together in silence, but her cheeky smile didn't stray too far from his mind for the rest of the day.
III.
A couple more weeks went by without him seeing her again. He was too busy to purposely come to work late, but she did cross his mind now and then when he was sharing the elevator with others. He wondered who else she was vaguely annoying to in their building at 8:45 a.m.
One day he found himself with nothing booked until 10 and nothing else super pressing to do. He sat at his desk and tried to get ahead on work, but he was feeling a bit antsy, so at 8:35 he sat back and decided to get a coffee from the shop in the lobby.
He didn't acknowledge her when he approached the elevator and saw she was already waiting for it. He took a sip of his still-very-hot coffee to hide the smile that was trying to form. When the doors opened she got on first and went to the near side again. He stood next to the number panel and looked at her expectantly. The doors closed on them but the elevator didn't move because neither of them pressed the button.
“Don't you want to press it?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted, and he slowly moved his pointer finger towards the 10, giving her plenty of time to jump in. She gave him one of her saucy smiles again, leaned in, slowly moved her own finger towards the 10 in imitation of him, and then suddenly darted her hand down and hit all the numbers starting from 2 up to 10 so the elevator would stop on every floor.
“For fuck’s sake!” Darcy exclaimed. “Why would you do that?” He wanted to leave and simply wait for the next one, but they were already moving.
“You glare too much,” was all she said in reply. She gave him an innocent-looking smile and batted her eyelashes.
He refused to react as the elevator started and stopped, started and stopped, all nine times until it was over. He took a sip of coffee to stop himself from looking at his watch.
“Have a nice day,” the woman called sweetly as she tripped off down her own hallway.
Brat.
IV.
Darcy enjoyed working a couple hours past the time everyone else went home for the day. He was always really productive without the parade of meetings, emails pinging, or knocks on his door. It wasn't unusual for him to stay until about 7 from Monday to Thursday, and 6 on Fridays.
One Friday afternoon he was feeling affable and sent everyone home at 3, then sat down to take advantage of an earlier start to his productive time. At 5:30 he checked the clock and, still riding his good mood, decided to call it a day for himself too.
He walked down the empty halls until he got to the elevators. While he waited for one to come up from the ground floor, he looked past it down the hall opposite his own with curiosity. On an impulse he started walking in that direction, rounded a corner, and got to the main entrance of the business on that side.
Longbourn Accounting. He didn't know how he'd worked in this building, on this floor, for eight years without knowing that name. He walked back to the elevator just in time for the doors to shut in his face because he wasn't there when it had arrived. He went to push the call button again to reopen it, but then he hesitated. He looked back down the carpeted hallway towards Longbourn Accounting.
He wondered what she did there. Not everyone at an accounting firm was an accountant. They still needed administrators, office managers, and clerks, among other things.
He went back to Pemberley’s unit, disarmed the alarm, unlocked his office door and sat back down at his computer. He did an online search for Longbourn Accounting and poked around their website a bit. He paid extra attention to the “Meet our Team” page, and was inordinately pleased when there were bios with headshots of all their staff.
He found her picture. Elizabeth Bennet, Chartered Accountant. He smiled. Her headshot was pure professionalism, but he knew better. She really was pretty, though. He hadn't really noticed before, because he hadn't ever looked properly, but he sure looked now. He peered at her bio but didn't learn anything particularly riveting. Certification from a reputable university. A couple of cats named Jane and Charles. Weird names for cats, but okay.
Later, when he walked through the door of his house, he felt oddly self-conscious but Georgiana didn't even look up when she said hello. After all, it was still his usual time getting home. There was no way for her to know he'd spent his last half-hour at Pemberley creeping some woman online instead of working.
He allowed himself to forget it ever happened.
V.
The next time he saw her—he wouldn't think her name to himself because he felt like he’d learned it illegitimately—was at a different time of day. He had lunch with an important client and when he returned there were a handful of people just stepping into the elevator when he caught up and managed to climb in. They made brief eye contact. She turned to her friend she was with, whispered something Darcy couldn't discern in her ear, then they both giggled. The friend's eyes skated past him before she cleared her throat and looked more sedate.
The elevator made two stops before their floor, and the three of them rode the last stretch alone. When they all exited, Darcy going left and the ladies going right, he thought he heard the faint sound of more laughter from around the corner. He didn't know what was so funny, but it did make him wonder if she had talked about him with her friend before that moment.
Did she think of him outside of the elevator? Were her button-related antics some kind of flirtation?
VI.
One of the elevators was now broken. Everyone in the building was forced to use the only other one, creating more of a backup than he would have expected. A small crowd waited in the lobby as it crawled down from the top floor making multiple stops. A couple people gave up waiting and went to the stairs. Darcy wished he could do the same, but climbing ten storeys in a suit in the summer seemed like a bad idea.
Besides, she was also waiting right next to him.
He'd become incredibly attuned to her by this point, so much so that he could pick out her usual scent—perfume, or perhaps just fabric softener—despite there being several other people within arm's reach. He snuck a look through the corner of his eye. She was wearing an emerald-coloured A-line dress. It was long enough to be acceptable at work, but just barely, with bare legs and kitten heels. He swallowed. Good lord, but she was sexy.
The elevator ride was agonizing, being stuck in there for so long as it dropped someone off on most floors, in such close quarters with someone he now understood he was wildly attracted to. He closed his eyes to keep from ogling her, but then his brain conjured a fantasy of what they might get up to if they were alone in there. Perhaps she could brace herself on the railing against the wall and lean over, while he… or he could kneel on the floor and flip that little skirt over his head and then…
He opened his eyes before he could get a hard-on in public, just in time to see the doors closing with no one else in there with him. He looked up at the floor number. He was on 12.
She could have warned him when it was their floor. It was obviously just another way that minx was toying with him.
He forced his way out before the doors finished shutting on him and took the stairs down to 10.
VII.
Darcy purposely timed going down to the lobby for an iced coffee around the time she usually got to work. Both elevators were operating again so movement was steady enough to avoid lineups. He loitered and waited while pretending to have an actual purpose. After a few minutes he caught sight of her strolling in, wearing another dress, this one a maxi in a floral pattern that really suited her.
A third person took the elevator with them, which annoyed him until he realized they were only going up to 3. As soon as that person was gone, he turned to her and asked, “Will you have lunch with me today?”
Her eyes shot over to him and she looked shocked. A few seconds passed while he waited for her to lower her eyebrows or react in maybe a more favourable way. He could practically see the wheels spinning behind her eyes, but he didn't know what she would be thinking about.
“Um, thanks, but I can't today,” she finally said.
“Tomorrow, then? Or really, most days I keep the same hours.”
An uncomfortable pause followed. “Thank you for the offer, but no, I'm not interested.”
The bell dinged and the doors opened for them. She stepped out and he followed.
Darcy knew he should drop it. He knew that. But he just didn't understand her teasing him and smiling at him for weeks only to refuse now. “May I ask why?” he asked before she could walk away, against his better judgment, because he couldn't help himself.
She turned back to him and narrowed her eyes. “It's pretty rude to ask why, actually,” she said, “but let's leave it at you're not my type.”
“A CEO isn't your type?”
She balled her hands into fists. “I don't care what your job is,” she hissed. “I care about how you scowl and look down your nose at me, in your fancy Italian suits, and when I tried to be funny you just scowled some more instead of dislodging whatever stick is up your ass. So no, I don't want to have lunch with you, a few uncomfortable elevator rides have been more than enough, thanks.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hall to Longbourn.
He stared after her for a moment before collecting himself. He couldn't be seen rejected and dismayed right outside of Pemberley like this. He made a beeline for his office and closed the door.
It was better to be rejected and dismayed in private.
VIII.
It took some expert manoeuvring, but his faithful executive assistant, Mrs. Reynolds, managed to clear a full week from his upcoming schedule so he could take his first vacation in three years. On the Friday before his time off he gave her flowers and chocolates to make up for doing that to her, and then he left work at noon.
He'd rented a cottage on a lake a couple hours away for ten days and he drove straight there from the office, his bag already in his trunk. He'd invited Georgiana, but she had too much going on for her university classes to miss anything, and he was kind of relieved to be alone.
He did need to loosen up, he was ready to acknowledge. After losing his parents, raising his sister alone, and starting a business with his trust fund that ended up larger and more successful than he'd ever imagined, he hadn't truly been able to let go and unwind in many, many years. But now Georgiana was grown and Pemberley was largely self-managed. His fifty- to sixty-hour work weeks he maintained were positively light compared to what he used to do.
He swam, he read, he fished. He weeded the little flower garden and fixed a dripping faucet even though he had no obligation to do either. He had no music, no television, and no one else to talk to, except a couple times when he went into town for a nicer dinner than the sandwiches and simple meals he was making himself at the cottage. Why didn't he do this more often? It was heaven to him. Maybe he would buy this place, or somewhere like it, so he could always have access to a getaway for weekends or summer trips.
He let himself think about her, because he didn't want to be the man she perceived him to be, and the first step to changing was to be honest about his flaws. Over the course of several days he learned to be grateful to her for putting him in his place. He'd been such an ass to her. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts of her with no regard to his actual behaviour. That was something he wouldn't let happen again, the next time he liked someone, not that he ever really met anyone with his homebody lifestyle.
He returned to work the next Monday at 7 a.m., wearing jeans to Pemberley for the first time in his life. His feeling of refreshment was more than he'd even hoped for when he went away. He knew he'd run into her again eventually, but he was ready to smile and say hello politely. Their interactions were too fleeting to ever have time for more than that, anyway.
IX.
The lights shut off and the elevator ground to a halt. A moment later, a backup emergency light came on in the top corner, but the main power was clearly gone. Darcy ran a hand down his face. He heard oh, fuck whispered nearby.
He was trapped in this elevator with her.
He'd been surprised to run into her leaving at the same time as him at 7:30 p.m., and only a few days after his return, but he felt he handled it well. He gave her a small smile and a quiet hello, just as he'd planned, then busied himself with his phone to try to minimize awkwardness. This power outage was really throwing a wrench in things.
She was the one next to the panel so she pressed the help button. When someone answered she let them know there were two people stuck in a malfunctioning elevator at 2000 Meryton Avenue. Darcy's heart sank all over again when they heard from the voice at the other end that there was a blown transformer that took out a couple city blocks’ power, and estimated restoration was two to three hours. They were instructed to call again if they hadn't started moving within three and a half hours.
“That's eleven at night,” she said a bit desperately, but unfortunately there was nothing the voice could do other than confirm they were safe.
When the call ended she looked over at Darcy, and he looked at her. “I guess we can get comfy,” she said, and he chuckled mirthlessly at the idea of any comfort in this situation. She sat on the floor against her side wall, facing him. After a moment of indecision, he shrugged and sat too. Her legs were crisscrossed but his were stretched out, pointing towards her.
“I'm Elizabeth,” she said after a minute of silence.
He smiled at her willingness to talk. “Darcy,” he replied. “Actually, I'd better let my sister know I'll be home late, one minute.”
Elizabeth watched him send the text off and was still looking at him when he put his phone back in his pocket. “You live with your sister?” she asked.
“Oh, er, yes, she's twenty-one. We don't—our parents are—they passed away, many years ago.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry,” she said sympathetically. He nodded in acknowledgement.
“Hey, Darcy,” she began again haltingly after another minute or two passed, “I owe you an apology. I've been thinking about our last conversation, and I was really harsh for no reason. I think… I was so sure you were judging me all that time, but it was actually the other way around. I'm sorry.”
“No, no,” he rushed to reassure her, “you were right. I mean, I've never judged you, but I was arrogant and rude, a complete idiot. And I'm trying to work on the… stick up my ass.” He smiled nervously.
Elizabeth snickered behind her hand. “I can see that,” she said slyly, and she stuck her foot out to nudge his. “Are those jeans brand new?”
Darcy laughed quietly. “Do you think I wear suits on weekends?”
“Well, I don't know!” she cried good-naturedly, throwing her hands in the air. “I don't know the first thing about you. Except about your family, now, so I guess I don't know the second thing about you.”
“I really don't know anything about you either,” he answered mostly truthfully, “I just know I like your teasing. And your smile. And your dresses.” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.
Elizabeth laughed. “You like the way I needle you for being uptight, you mean.”
“Call it what you want,” he smiled.
“And we've got another… hour and fifty minutes to go, at least,” she said, checking the time, “so tell me something I'll like about you.”
“If you're not impressed by me raising my much-younger sister, I don't think I really stand a chance,” he replied drily.
She tipped her head back and laughed again. She was gorgeous. “Well, I don't know her,” she teased. “Is your sister an asshole?”
“She's a lovely person.” Darcy smiled fondly and pulled out his phone, his grin growing when he saw Georgiana's emoji-ridden response to his message.
“Then we're already up to two things I like,” Elizabeth said.
He tilted his head curiously. “What's the second thing?”
“Your eyes. I hadn't seen them properly before tonight.”
He looked away, knowing there was no way for him to hide the colour rising to his cheeks at the unexpected compliment, but hoping the lighting was bad enough for her not to notice.
Elizabeth scooted the short distance across the elevator to squeeze in beside him. He shifted to give her some more space, but not by much. “Hey, Darcy?” she asked.
“Yes?” he answered breathlessly, dizzy from her intentional nearness.
She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Have lunch with me tomorrow?”
Darcy was euphoric. He loved this stupid elevator. There was nowhere in the world he'd rather be than sitting on the dirty floor of this cramped, dimly-lit box. The power going out at the moment of his leaving work was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He wanted to shake the hand of whoever was responsible for Elizabeth working so late tonight.
He wisely kept all those thoughts to himself. He simply smiled at her and said, “I'd love to.”
X.
A few weeks later on a Friday, Darcy went down to wait in the lobby at 8:40 a.m. When Elizabeth walked in she gave him a brilliant smile and a peck on the cheek.
Two other people rode the elevator with them. One got off on 4 and the other on 5. The moment the door closed after the second stop, they were on each other. Elizabeth grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down to capture his lips. He planted both his hands firmly on her butt and squeezed. They didn't pause for air until the bell dinged for floor 10, at which point they stepped back to a polite distance and exited the elevator demurely.
“You know, I never fooled around in an elevator before that night,” she said, “but it's becoming a bit of a habit.”
He took her hand, sporting a dopey grin. “So dinner tonight, right?” he checked, and she nodded.
They went their opposite directions for their respective workdays but with plans for later to look forward to. And if a quick elevator makeout session at 5 p.m. on their way out was part of those plans, it was nobody's business but their own.