Original Title: Gaydar (A May is for Merriment Short)
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandom: Pride and Prejudice
Pairing(s): Elizabeth/Darcy, Jane/Bingley.
Summary: Jane thinks Darcy is gay… and thinks sending her sight unseen sister with perfect “gaydar” will solve her questions. Modern AU. P.S. I own the scarf that’s described.

Translation: French (by effexor)

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and … fluff?

Darcy could not believe this was actually happening.  Here he was, sitting in a restaurant, trying not to look gay (whatever that meant), waiting for his best friend, his girlfriend Jane, and Jane’s sister who apparently had the best gaydar that Jane could get her hands on. 

How could Jane Bennet possibly think he was gay, and what was even more disturbing, why would she think that just by being friends with him, Charles might be gay … ?

A ton of bricks hit him mentally.  God, not only did this smiling woman think he was gay, she thought that perhaps, just perhaps, he and Charles were lovers.

He groaned.

Life could not get any worse.

Then it did.

A lithe woman wearing torn jeans and a button down blouse with a scarf, that for whatever reason reminded him of jelly babies, sat down across from him.  Her auburn curls fell half hazardously down her back and her bright blue eyes looked directly into his eyes, trying to decipher something in their depths.

Darcy couldn’t help but gape.

After a moment, he regained his senses and swallowed hard.  Well, if only Jane’s sister showed up soon, she would have all the proof that she needed that he definitely was not gay right in his lap.

The girl looked away, shook her head, and took out a pair of glasses from her leather backpack, which she then perched on her nose.  The purple frames reflected the dim light of the restaurant and Darcy knew he had never seen anything so sexy in his life.

Attempting not to groan, he asked, “Not that I mind, but might I inquire what you’re doing at my table?”  His voice sounded strangled and he was suddenly glad that he had decided for once in his adult life not to wear a tie. 

At first the girl did not respond but instead took in his racing pulse at his neck and then let her eyes linger on his blazer and his well toned arms that were barely concealed under his rolled up sleeves.  She slowly sat back and crossed her arms, allowing her breasts to be pushed upward and together under the thin filmy gauze of her shirt.  On anyone else, he would have called it on a peasant blouse, but this woman wore it with such authority that she looked nothing less than regal in it.

She took the glass of water in front of her and slowly took a sip, her eyes never leaving his, and Darcy almost had to grip the table when she sensuously lapped up the water droplets that clung to her plump lower lip.

Darcy could feel himself break out into a slight sweat.

He had never in his thirty years reacted like this toward a woman.  Never.  Not even Melinda, who his father had wanted him to marry.  Yes, he could appreciate a beautiful woman—and he had known several intimately despite what Jane might think—but this, this was something different.  His blood was heated and if he had not been sitting in a public restaurant, he would have grabbed the minx across the table from him and made passionate love to her on the piano in the corner of the room.  He didn’t even care in that moment that she might be like every other woman he had ever known and was attempting to quietly seduce him for his wealth and position in society.  It didn’t matter.  All that he cared about was stripping off that gorgeous blouse and cupping her delectable breasts, so soft and small in his hands, as he made her writhe in pleasure.

Who was she?  What was her name?

And was there any possible way that she would let him buy her dinner and then make love to her all night long in his London flat?

Hang Charles and his idiotic girlfriend, and he could care less about the sister at this moment whom he assumed was a copy of Jane—curvy, long legged, with long black hair and dark eyes.  A femme fatale, if you will.

But this goddess, for a goddess she surely was, was nothing short of physical perfection, a nymph almost who would be more at home among meadows and streams than the concrete of London.

“Buy a girl a drink?” she finally asked, throwing her head back briefly to let her curls fall over the back of the chair before staring into his eyes again.  Her voice was soft, light, pleasing.  Her very words sent shivers down his spine.

He bowed his head.  “Of course.  Would you care to go to the bar?”  He wanted this minx all to himself, he didn’t want to share this girl with anyone. 

She raised one eyebrow perfectly but acquiesced when he rose smoothly from his chair and put his hand on the small of her back. 

“Meeting some friends for dinner?” she inquired as he settled her into a backless bar stool and he marveled as he watched her long legs dangle toward the floor, her perfect little feet encased in stiletto sandals.  Her nails were bare of polish, making the contrast between her pale skin and the black sheen of the heels even more sensual.

Darcy slid into the stool next to her and waited as she ordered a mojito.  He asked for a whiskey and soda.

“Yes, my best friend and his girlfriend.”  He was hesitant to add that Jane’s sister would also be joining them.  Darcy did not want this woman to think that he was on a double date.  Far from it.

She laughed.  “A third wheel then?”  Her fingers tapped against the bar as she looked coyly at him and he noticed that she had a rubber band as well as two silver bracelets around her right wrist.  “Why?”

He shrugged.

The girl pursed her lips and waited silently until the bartender brought them their drinks.  Darcy took out a crisp fifty pound note and asked him to keep a tab open with it.  His date’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“Sweet on the girlfriend then?” she further inquired as she carefully took a sip of her drink, careful that the piece of sugar cane did not poke her eyes.

Darcy nearly dropped his whiskey of the sensual sight of her looking across from him with desire written in her gorgeous blue eyes.  She looked young, not too young to drink, but still youthful.  She had carefully lined her eyes in black to make herself appear older, but the freshness of her skin and the lack of other profound make up made her look both alluring and oddly vulnerable.

He shook his head in response to her question and watched as she tossed her curls over one shoulder.  Her loose hair fell almost to her waist.  Darcy hoped that before the night was through, he’d be able to stroke it lightly, his fingers getting tangled in those magnificent curls.

Her eyebrow creased.  “Why then, if not to hit on your friend’s girlfriend?”

Darcy sighed and looked away briefly not knowing what to answer.  Should he tell her the truth?  That he was only valued for his money?  What would she do then? 

When he did not answer at first the girl merely tapped her fingers again and she smiled wistfully. 

“Then it is the girlfriend, isn’t it?”  Her lips pouted slightly and he wondered how this beautiful creature could think he could ever be interested in anyone apart from her.

He leaned forward slightly and, emboldened by the scent of cucumber and mint that lingered around her hair, he tentatively tucked a curl behind her ear and held her steadfast gaze.  “She’s not my type,” he whispered and he smiled when she blushed at his sweet words. 

A mobile went off somewhere nearby and the girl startled, breaking his gaze.  Quickly apologizing, she sighed and picked it up, “Elizabeth speaking,” she answered and he leaned back, giving her some privacy.

Elizabeth.  Her name was Elizabeth.  His lips soundlessly formed the syllables and he closed his eyes, so thankful that he had actually taken the initiative with a woman for once in his life. 

A moment later, Darcy heard Elizabeth hang up the phone with the words, “Yes, I’m at the restaurant; I’ll come find you,” and she took a napkin and wrote her number on it quickly.  She smiled up at him.  “In case you might still want this at the end of having dinner with your friend and his girlfriend.”  Hesitating a moment after she stood up, she briefly kissed him, her hair falling briefly as a curtain around them and he smiled up at her.

Her lips were so soft, so warm, devoid of any lipgloss and tasting slightly of rum and sugar.  Holding her drink in one hand and grabbing her bag in the other, she turned to leave, looking wistfully back at him. 

Darcy sat, dazed, for a moment and stared at the napkin with her number on it.  A soft smile played out on his lips as he thought of her eyes staring heatedly into his.

Suddenly, he heard his name being called and was startled back into the present when his friend approached him.  “The ladies are at the table and waiting.”

He nodded imperceptibly, gazing at the now empty bar stool in front of him. 

“Don’t mess this up, please,” Charles began again as he tugged Darcy out of his seat.  Darcy could only look around the crowded restaurant, hoping that he might catch a glimpse of auburn curls or the end of a long, thin, brown scarf as it was tossed over her back shoulder, but he saw nothing. 

Approaching the table he saw Jane glancing at the menu and he sat down heavily, wondering what he had done in this world to deserve this. 

“What’s in your hand?” Charles asked quickly as he saw Darcy fold the napkin and tuck it safely into his wallet.

“I met this girl here tonight and she gave me her number,” was his only answer.  He didn’t look at Jane, feeling uncomfortable since she thought he was gay. 

“And you’re keeping it?” Charles asked, alarmed.  “You always throw out numbers women give you.”  Wasn’t Darcy being a little bit too obvious?

“She was different, fresh.  She didn’t appear to know who I was and didn’t seem the sort to be after my bank balance.”

Jane started at the slight speech, especially since Charles’ friend had been staring directly at her when he added the last bit.

As he gazed at her for a few seconds longer, Darcy wondered how Elizabeth could ever think he would be attracted to Jane?  Yes, she was beautiful, with doe eyes and her hair piled up on her head.  Her low dress, though tasteful, gave more than a hint of what lay underneath.  She was clearly a woman of the world, sophisticated – everything his sweet, fresh, yet intoxicating Elizabeth was not. 

“Where’s your sister?” Charles asked to break the tension in the room.

“W.C.  She told me what to order, so we can go ahead.”

The waiter came over with a signal from Charles and soon the three of them were sitting, Jane and Charles carrying the conversation and all that Darcy could think of was how soon he could call Elizabeth.  After a moment, he felt a presence behind him and he looked up to see Jane smiling over his shoulder.

“Ah, you put your hair up,” she said by way of greeting, and Darcy supposed that the mysterious sister was now standing behind him.  He tensed slightly when he felt the unknown woman slide into the seat next to him, and once again wished that he were still at the bar with Elizabeth instead of being slowly tortured as some twit tried to quiz him about his sexual orientation.  How could Jane ever possibly think that he was gay?

It still astounded him.

“I didn’t want it to get in my food,” a soft, familiar voice answered and Darcy felt as if he had suddenly gone mad.  He knew that voice. 

He briefly closed his eyes and inhaled.  Yes, and he knew that soft cucumber scent.

Blinking briefly he turned and saw Elizabeth calmly looking up at him, a slight smile in her eyes showing her amusement.  He could only stare back at her, utterly astounded.

Now everything made sense.  She had obviously sat at this table earlier because her sister had asked her to, had perhaps even purposefully let her hair down and tossed it over her shoulder a few times to see if he had any reaction to her divine curls.  She had only accepted a drink and then kissed him because …

No, he thought.  There was more than that.  She had sighed as she had kissed him goodbye, lightly, teasingly almost, and there had been real regret when she had walked away from him, even though she knew that she would see him again in a matter of minutes.

Her words came back to him when she had handed him her number – “In case you might still want this at the end of having dinner with your friend and his girlfriend.”  She had taken the initiative with both the kiss and a way for him to contact her again. 

Without thinking, he leaned briefly toward her and tucked a loose curl behind her ear.  “Hello again.”

“Hi,” she sighed, happy to see that he was not offended by her earlier subterfuge.  Turning away from him briefly, Elizabeth saw the shocked looks on Charles and Jane’s faces.  She smiled.  “Jane, only a fool would think Darcy’s gay.”

The End.

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