A/N: Hello All! I know I said I was gonna be working on the sequel to WwD, but this idea popped in my head and it won't leave, so I figured I'd post it and see what kind of feedback I'd get. It's basically a time travel romance in which main character Ella gets transported (how exactly I'm not sure) to Regency England. She lands in the carriage (yes lands, as in fell through the roof of) of brother and sister James and Lucy. They realize something is up because of the way she talks, dresses, and what she is carrying (I think Ella will have a guitar and be an aspiring singer). After some convincing they believe she is from the future and the rest of the story is Ella trying to get back. I've had this idea in my head for a while and the other day I wrote about two pages worth of stuff in which Lucy convinces Ella to attend a ball. Is this better than it sounds? I don't know. So if you want read what I wrote and leave a review to tell me if I should continue or leave this idea in the back of my head. Thanx, Aurora.

Just Call Me Regency Barbie

(Sample Pages)

“How can you expect me to go to this, this, ball thingy? I don’t know how to act, or speak around you people. No matter what I do I always manage to say the wrong thing and offend someone. And Lord knows that I can’t do any of the fancy dances you all love so much. I mean the only dance I actually know how to do is the electric slide!”

“The electric what?” James asked in confusion.

“Never mind,” I replied in exasperation. “The point is that no matter how much you’d like to change it, I can’t and won’t ever be accepted by the people of this time.”

“Oh pish posh,” Lucy said dismissively with a wave of her hand. “Of course you aren’t accepted, at least not in the way we are. We know you are from a different time, and the rest of the ton assumes you are from a different place. There is no reason for you to pressure yourself to feel excepted. You are unique and that is the way it should stay. All I’m saying is that you might as well show off your uniqueness while you are here. Aren’t you tired of being stuck here in the house with James all day?”

At Lucy’s question a slew of images blurred through my brain. Sitting in the library alone being mind numbingly bored, and then that the day when James had stumbled upon me in my misery. Then the subsequent hours spent discussing differences between my time and his, and finally his recent and sudden withdrawal from my conversation and my company. I also thought of the awkwardness I felt whenever I was near him. Perhaps getting out of the house would be good for me.

“Maybe I am a little bored,” I said quietly, managing to not look for James’s reaction as I said so. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I am not ready to jump headlong into English society as Regency Barbie.”

Lucy put her hand to her temple and sighed. “Ella, as much as I love hearing those twenty first terms you most graciously bestow upon us, could you possibly stick to speaking comprehensible language whilst in a serious discussion?”

“So this is a serious discussion now is it?” I queried.

“Yes!” she cried. I noticed with great amusement that she stomped her foot, and at that particular moment she resembled a bratty kid. She noticed my grin and her frustration seemed to double. “You will listen to me Miss, I’m-too-wonderful-to-lower-myself-to-nineteenth-century-standards! You will learn how to dance, and act, and speak politely to other people and you will enjoy yourself immensely!” she finished with a semi-roar.

“And exactly who will be teaching me these things?” I finally questioned in defeat, having recognized the steely tone that surfaced in Lucy’s voice which signified that she would not take no for an answer.

At my concession, a victorious and infuriating grin appeared on her face. “Why, me of course. I am perfectly equipped to teach you how to properly behave at a ball. I have been out in society for almost three years. And James shall assist with the dancing when the time comes.”

“Absolutely not!” James and I both managed to exclaim at the same time. I sent him a scathing look.

“There is no way that I will be taught to dance by…him,” I grumbled in my most menacing voice. Although I did not dignify him with a glance, I distinctly heard James give a rather audible snort from his seat by the mantle.

“Well why not?” Lucy asked in a voice dripping with saccharine.

When faced with this most simple question, I could not find a single answer which would not make me seem petty or foolish, or quite possibly both. “Damn,” I muttered.

A dazzling smile lit Lucy’s face. “Excellent! We shall have to start as soon as possible. I believe with a little bit of effort we could have you ready for the Ashton’s ball next week.”

“I can’t wait,” I muttered sarcastically out the window, not wanting to meet James’ penetrating gaze at that particular instant. Why was it that lately life managed to screw with me at the most inopportune moments?