Posted on Wednesday, 6 September 2000

Pemberley College, 1972

Their first night as roommates, Billy Joe Collins pretended he couldn't find his way to the bathroom in the dark. He fell on top of Elizabeth Bennet, snoring peacefully in her bed. It took her about two seconds to have him on the floor, one hand on his larynx.

"Now, Billy Joe," she said in that Southern drawl she knew how to use, "do you remember that hammer and those long nails I was usin' this morning to put up the spare bookshelf?"

"Uuurghmm," he replied, choked.

"Well, Billy - boy, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will personally nail you to the wall using those implements." She released him.

"Am I making myself clear?"

The room was too dark for her to see him nod eagerly. But she didn't have to. She felt him, desperately nodding at her.

Janie was mad. This stupid College with its stupid rules, not letting her stay with Elizabeth, putting her in a dorm all the way across campus, forcing her to walk for fifteen minutes every time she wanted to see Elizabeth. Which was about twentyfour/ seven, if Janie had anything to say about it. She would have spent all nights at Elizabeth's, too, but her sister's roommate Billy Joe was just too much for Janie.

So Janie pouted. And then she did something about it. She was a Chemistry Major, for heaven's sake. She could do anything.

And then she sat down on the little trail running from her dorm to Elizabeth's, on a safe distance from the Sports Centre, and attempted a meditation pose. Very uncomfortable, that.

After a few minutes of almost - meditation, she heard footsteps. Someone stopped next to her.

"Are you okay?", said a very pleasant male voice.

Janie looked up. There was this guy, and the part of Janie's brain that wanted to become a fashion designer cried out: "We match!" which was painfully accurate as they were both tall and tanned and sported natural blond hair, only his was shorter. He was dressed a bit more conservative, too, in a turtleneck and bell - bottoms, she wore her Native American outfit, but Lord you'd think he was custom - made for her. His blue eyes peeked out from coke - bottle glasses, and Janie realised he probably looked ten years younger than he was, which would make him too old for her.

As if she cared.

"What's your name?" he said, fascinated.

"Moonbeam," answered Janie, who was desperate to appear cool.

"And do you have any plans for tonight, Moonbeam?" he asked, and gave her a hand up.

"No," she said, "only... Who are you?"

"I'm Charles Bingley, Principal of Pemberley." He said, keeping his eyes on her slightly pouting lips.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, not really paying attention to the conversation.

"For..." but at that point he took her in his arms and kissed her.

And behind them, the Sports Center blew up.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh surveyed the class. God, what a bunch of losers! Well, there was her nephew, William Darcy. And while she would have preferred it if he was black, so she could have paraded about with him, a living proof of her open - mindedness, at least he was smart and good - looking.
And she supposed it was a blessing to have Elizabeth Bennet in her class. The girl was a genius, and everyone said it had to have been her formula Janie used to blow up the Sports Center. Of course, she denied it. But everyone knew she'd been doing Janie's homework for ages.

Well, at least Elizabeth wouldn't bother her with stupid questions.
All in all, it could have been worse.

"Attention, class! Now, anyone who wants to study Political Science the proper way, shouldn't be at Pemberley. The first thing we are going to do, this term, is 'Global Relations'. I'm going to assign you a country each, and for a month you will be that country, having trade and agreements with your neighbours, or, in some cases, prepare to annihilate the world with nuclear bombs. As I call your name, come up to me and I'll give you your country and some fact sheets..."

Will Darcy sat with his head in his hands. Why on EARTH had he chosen Pemberley? It must have been the constant pressure of Lady Cat. Earlier, when he'd come for his assigned country, Lady Cat had whispered:

"Don't worry, William, I've not left you hanging. You get England, a proper country." He supposed he should have been grateful. The boy behind him got Oman.

Someone sat down next to him on the bench.

"Hi," said a nice voice. He looked up, into the beautiful eyes of Elizabeth Bennet. Oh, she was pretty. And a genius. And looked natural, but not too natural. And he liked the fact that she stuck to her old name, when all the girls pranced around calling themselves 'Moonbeam'.
But she was weird, and she lived with Billy Joe Collins, in perfect harmony it seemed.

"I hear you're England," she said.

He nodded.

"I'm Northern Ireland," she continued. "So I guess we'll see a lot of each other for a while.

"I guess," he said, perking up. Weird or not, she was pretty.

"But I wanted to tell you, seeing as I am Northern Ireland. It was my sister who bombed the Sports Center."

Will put his head back in his hands. He had a headache.

Elizabeth finished with the barb wire. Being Northern Ireland meant you had to protect yourself. And the wire had the added advantage of keeping Billy Joe in his part of the room. Actually, Elizabeth had decided he was Ireland, and so he had to petition her every time he wanted to go to the john. Collins wasn't in Pol Sci, he was a Theology Major, minoring in Ethics, of all things, but Elizabeth didn't care.

Hanging up a sign on the door, that proclaimed:

she stepped back to admire her handiwork. Someone opened a door across the hall.

"Nice," said the guy in combat fatigues, leaning against the wall, admiring both Elizabeth and the military zone.

"Did you make that yourself?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Do you want one?"

"Well, actually I was thinking of doing something on a larger scale..." He smiled back. "I'm George Wickham, by the way."

Elizabeth grinned. Today was a good day.

"Moonbeam, you know... I... can't...let... you... oh!...o...out..." Charles Bingley tried to talk some sense into his new girlfriend, in between kisses.

"But Charlie, no one got hurt! I made sure the Center was closed before applying the explosives!"

"Sssshhhhhh! Don't tell me these things, what if they put me on the stand?"

"Oh!" pouted Janie. "But I thought we were going to get married!"

"We were? I mean, we were! Of course! Going to! Marry! One day! But... now?"

"Why, Charlie, don't you love me any more?" Janie's eyes filled with tears.

"Honey, I love you to bits, but... Why can't you tell the Colonel your sister did it? Everyone knows she's a mad genius!"

"But she didn't! I am a Chemistry Major, for heaven's sake! I can make my own bombs!"

"Ok, honey, don't cry. We'll get you out of here, somehow... I guess we're lucky your fiancée is the Principal..."

Caroline Bingley, twenty - two going on seventy, was sulking on her bed. Her roommate hadn't slept in his bed for two nights, and on top of that people kept throwing in letters and packages addressed to "England" into her room. One particular boy, with longer hair than she had, had even tried to stage a rebellion of some African country on her bed. She'd wrestled him down, but not before he'd called her 'Imperialist pig!'.

Where was Will Darcy? Why would he avoid her, she was the only girl on campus who washed her hair regularly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had a bad day. Well, at Pemberley, every day was a bad day, which was strange because he was the only one allowed to carry firearms on campus. But no one here cared about that!

He wished he was back in the Army, where men were men and wore their hair short and their pants starched.

This was all Bingley's fault. First, he insisted on sharing his girlfriend's cell (which was in reality the Laundry - Room, but it had bars on the windows) and then he would not allow teargas against the anarchists occupying Dorm Fourteen (but they called it the Nelson Mandela No Apartheid Freedom Building).

The Colonel knew it was a mistake putting Elizabeth Bennet and George Wickham together, but he thought Billy Joe Collins and Dennis Carter (known to fellow students as Denny the Entity, and eventually turning out to be the local drug - pusher; but the Colonel didn't know that) could keep them quiet.

Not so. They had declared Dorm Fourteen an independent state, and put barb wire around the entrance.

Will Darcy was sleeping in Charly Lucas' room, Charly being busy occupying Dorm Fourteen. He woke up when the window was opened from the outside, and was not too surprised to see Elizabeth Bennet crawl in.

"Hi," she said brightly.

"Hi, um, aren't you supposed to be occupying Dorm Fourteen?"

"You mean the Nelson Mandela No Apartheid Freedom Building?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was, but the Colonel is beginning to freak out, so I left. 'Sides, that George Wickham is too weird really."

"I've noticed. But I thought he'd be your type."

"No, he's just crazy."

"Yeah."

"And I wanted to see you."

"Why? So you could bomb me in my capacity as England?"

"No," she giggled, "I thought we could try our hand at a Peace Process. I'm really a Pacifist, you know."

"Is that so...? Well, ok, I guess."

"So is there room enough for me there...?"

"It's a bit crowded... But I think it could work."

FINIS