From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 18

"Oh, no! He's gonna be sick again, Bobby!"

Admittedly, it was the first time Mr. Darcy rode inside a car (conscious, that was), instead of just watching, mesmerized, as they passed by him on the street. He'd only seen vehicles a couple of times anyway, and near Central Park, since he'd left the Brown's building only once since he'd arrived in the twenty-first century.

Anna was worried. It was the second time they had to stop the car so Darcy wouldn't puke all over it. Bobby, on the other hand, couldn't be more relieved: his girlfriend was the most sympathetic person he'd ever met, so he knew she'd support Fitz.

If Doug or Nat had come in the same car with them, however, the story might have been different: Doug would probably suspect Fitz was on drugs, while Nat would sense something was off.

It was almost a miracle Nathalie had fallen for the actor-from-Broadway story, but Bobby knew his sister well enough to realize she'd only believed their lie because the truth was too... Unbelievable. He wasn't going to be deluded that she'd wouldn't find out the truth sooner or later.

And, if she found out... Better yet: when she found out, they'd pay greatly for their lie. Because if there was something Nathalie didn't bear was a liar.

"I apologize, Miss Anna", Mr. Darcy said embarrassingly as he returned to the car.

"It's okay, Fitz", she assured him, "I'm just worried about you." She then offered him her water bottle, which he took with a grateful smile.

"Fitz hates the speed, babe", Bobby had read somewhere that if one wanted to maintain a lie, one must keep it as close to the truth as possible. "He isn't used to riding in vehicles."

"Oh, poor thing", she whispered to him, so the time traveler wouldn't hear her out, "I can't even begin to imagine how badly he must feel on an airplane."

"Airplane?", Mr. Darcy was immediately alerted by the word.

"Never mind her, Fitz", he told Darcy, who relaxed in his backseat. Bobby then whispered back to his girlfriend, "You better not mention airplanes, babe."

The vehicle was silent for less than sixty seconds, when Darcy asked them, for the tenth time in the forty-five minutes since they'd left New York City, "Will we be there soon?"

♥

Bobby

Over two hours on the road without eating was too much for me. I wasn't hungry anymore; I was starving! Having Fitz stopping to puke all the time didn't help either. Normally, it took me a little over two hours to get to the Hamptons. We were still about forty-five minutes away, though. That was, if Fitz-dude didn't feel "indisposed", as he described it, again.

"I'm starving!", I proclaimed my desperation.

"So what's new?", Anna sarcastically answered. "Can't you wait until we're there?"

"I could die of starvation by the time we got there!" That was me: Mr. Drama King. I loved it; everyone else hated it.

As expected, Anna rolled her eyes. "Okay, just take the next turn. There's a street in Holbrook with some shops, stores and restaurants near the lake."

I did as she instructed, but, before reaching the street she was looking for, I saw something that made me stop right away: a sign with a very familiar and yellow "m", informing me one of my favorite fast-food restaurants was nearby.

"No way, Robert! I'm not eating there!" Anna was already disgusted by my choice of dinner. Luckily, there was a very healthy-and-vegetarian-looking-like diner right on the right side of the greasy place.

"You could get a salad at Green's", I pointed at the establishment, and she looked relieved, "Then we can meet outside and eat in the car."

"With the windows open, because I don't want to smell like grease", she ordered.

"Sure, babe", I turned to Darcy-dude, "Are you coming with me or her, Fitz?", I knew what his answer would be, being a gentleman and all.

"Miss Anna needs a chaperone, Robert!" It was the first time he called me by my first name, with no Mr. or Brown, which was a major development. Still, no nickname. At least, he now enjoyed me calling him Fitz.

"I need no such a thing", was my girlfriend also very predictable answer. She left the car and rushed to Green's, a place that looked disgustingly healthy. People there probably paid loads of money for food that tasted like grass. Ugh.

"Did I offend her in any way, Robert?", Fitz was worried. The smell of hamburgers and French fries invaded my nostrils as we entered the fast-food restaurant. As we waited in line (which Fitz-dude thought absurd), I explained him a few things about gals in the twenty-first century.

After all, we didn't know how long he'd stay with us, right?

♥

Mr. Darcy didn't quite absorb the idea of women strolling around on the street without a chaperone, but, apparently, it was a habit he would need to be accustomed to as long as he were in that strange – yet fascinating – era.

The gentleman couldn't stop feeling responsible for these ladies. Especially all matters regarding Miss Nathalie Brown. He had established in his own mind it was best for both if they never remained in the same room alone, and he had been fulfilling that promise the whole week.

Still, he felt very protective of her. He hadn't been at all glad when he was informed she would be riding to the Hamptons with her suitor. Indeed, she had two chaperones with her; her closest friends, Miss Fanny and Miss Patricia. Yet, he was unsettled by a comment Robert had made: how male and female interactions before the wedding had changed in the last centuries.

Considering Robert and Miss Anna, Mr. Darcy was anxious to learn how close Miss Nathalie and her admirer were. Robert constantly touched his beloved, and neither of them used any gloves. He had even seen they touch their lips once!

Darcy himself had already felt the softness of Miss Nathalie's skin a couple of precious times; just to think of those moments made him blush in vexation. They had been, however, brief touches, and he was certain the lady in question hadn't been offended by his boldness. Perhaps because she was oblivious to his feelings towards her, some of which he was ignorant of himself.

The smell of grease made him return from his reveries. He found himself in an overcrowded, too bright and too loud space. People were screaming everywhere he turned: mothers begged their children to behave, uniformed servants wearing ridiculous hats yelled at each other orders he couldn't understand; people squeezed each other for an opening at the counter.

"Forgive me, Robert. Are we dining here?", Darcy was afraid of the answer.

"Yeah! It's great, isn't it?" If that was great, Darcy thought, he was afraid of Miss Patricia's house at the Hamptons village. Robert had used the exact same adjective to describe it. Now Darcy couldn't trust what his friend considered to be great. "So, what do you want, Fitz?"

"Nothing", Mr. Darcy desired to reply, but his lips didn't pronounce the word. He saw many colorful paintings above the uniformed servants, and Robert had previously explained those were his options. None of them looked like the food he was used to. "Never mind, I'll order for you, Fitz!" Robert saved him from making a rather rude statement about what he actually wanted.

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