Like a flower waiting to bloom
Like a lightbulb in a dark room
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on

Like the desert waiting for the rain
Like a school kid waiting for the spring
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on

My poor heart, it's been so dark
Since you've been gone
After all, you're the one who turns me off
You're the only one who can turn me back on

My hi-fi is waiting for a new tune
My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
Turn me on

"Turn Me On" Norah Jones, "Come Away With Me" (2002)

Reluctantly removing his gloved hands from his pockets, Georg turned up the collar of his woollen overcoat against the wild, winter wind. It was impossible for the cashmere scarf around his neck to keep out the biting chill blowing down off the Alps and along the streets of Salzburg. It was already dark. The night had closed in early. Early, even for this time of year.

Letting out a sigh, his warm breath created a cloud of vapour as it hit the freezing air, only to disappear quickly on the strong wind. He knew he should be making his way back to the café. He'd left the children there drinking hot chocolates and devouring slices of warm apple strudel. It must have been twenty minutes ago. But he knew they'd happily sit there a little longer, amusing themselves amongst the warmth and pastries. Warming themselves in front of the roaring open fire. Liesl and Friedrich would be keeping an eye on the younger ones, so he knew he didn't need to worry. No, he didn't have to rush back just yet.

Despite the chill, he was happy to take his time. He was happy to just drift along the streets. Although the afternoon had quickly turned into the early evening, the streets were still filled with last minute shoppers and families enjoying the Christmas atmosphere. It seemed that the only people rushing along the footpath were the city workers, who seemed intent on getting home and out of the cold. The first snow flurries of the season were yet to arrive. They were unseasonably late this year. But the chill in the wind was a sign that they wouldn't be too far away. He smiled. With only a few days to go, the children may get to enjoy a white Christmas.

He knew this Christmas would be different to others past. He couldn't promise it would be like old times, but he would try to make it as special for the children as possible. He smiled as he thought of Agathe, how she would immerse herself in all the Christmas preparations. The villa would be transformed with decorations. Some made by the children, but many handed down through the families. On the first day of Advent, he'd take the children out to the woods to select the best fir they could find. With the help of the gardener, they would bring the tree home and stand it in the salon, where Agathe and the children would spend hours decorating it from top to bottom.

He smiled wistfully. Agathe took as much delight in dressing the tree as any of the children. He could still hear her begging him to straighten the angel. She couldn't reach, so it was his job to place the angel at the top of the tree. Just to tease her, he would always make sure it was crooked. He couldn't resist. It would drive her crazy! His reward was having her begging him to behave. God, she was so adorable! It was the same every year. Well, it had been, he thought sadly.

The past four years, he'd sent the children to Agathe's parents for Christmas while he stayed at the villa. In a fit of rage and despair, he'd made sure all the decorations were locked away in the attic, along with every other happy memory. Meanwhile, the children, the reminders of his failings as a parent, were sent a safe distance away. Leaving him alone at Christmas to sit out the pain and sorrow on his own.

Pushing away thoughts of Christmases past, he told himself that this year would be different. Before winter set in, as the summer had been drawing to an end, he'd hoped that Maria would stay. But, true to her word, she'd only returned to the villa long enough for a new governess to be found. Of course, governess number thirteen was never going to work out. How could she be expected to replace Maria? It had seemed ridiculous at the time. It had been futile to even pretend.

For a short while, he'd hoped his feelings for Elsa would grow into something more. God knows, he'd tried. But in the end, he couldn't continue. He'd been dishonest and unfair to Elsa over most of the summer, so had ended their engagement soon after Maria had returned to the Abbey for a final time.

Squaring his shoulders against the cold, he knew this year it was different. Over the summer, Maria had helped him face the memories head on. Because of her, he'd confronted most of the pain. He now looked at his children differently. Like he used to. With love. Without any of the resentment, shame and self-loathing. He appreciated the constant reminders of Agathe – Liesl's blue eyes, Friedrich and Louisa's blonde hair, Kurt's cheekiness and infectious laugh, Brigitta's wise observations and love of books, Marta's sweetness and Gretl's determination. When Maria had finally opened his eyes, he appreciated seeing so much of Agathe in the children. Maria had shown him how they could help ease the burden of his loss. They gave him comfort and strength.

Yes, after a summer of reconnecting with the children, this Christmas would be different. The best fir had been chosen, and was now standing in the salon, laden with the decorations they'd retrieved from the attic. Crowded underneath the tree were presents wrapped in brown paper and tied with colourful ribbons and bows. He knew that this Christmas wouldn't compare to any of Agathe's from the past, but at least they would be together as a family. He knew Agathe would be looking down on him this year smiling. He wouldn't have to feel the burden of her disappointment this time.

Of course, none of the credit was his. Left to him, this Christmas would have been no different to last year. Or the year before that. No, all the credit belonged to Maria. He wished things had turned out differently. He still wasn't certain why she'd left. He still found himself wondering what might have been. And still he hadn't been able to let her go. He often wondered if he ever could. Even now, he still lay awake at night, begging himself to forget her. To stop the endless longing. But it was impossible when she still had hold of his heart.

Realising where he was, he turned away from the bookstore's Christmas window. He hadn't even realised that his walk had led him here. He'd been staring in the window for the past five minutes. Lost in his own thoughts. Surely he'd have got over these ridiculous feelings by now. Surely he'd be able to move on one day.

Straightening his hat against the wind and pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his coat he turned down the laneway that ran alongside the bookshop. These past months, he'd spent too much time reminiscing about the summer. When in Salzburg, he always found himself retracing the same well-worn path. A path where new memories had been made over the summer with Maria. The beautiful woman with the gorgeous blue eyes and adorable smile who'd somehow stolen his heart. Sighing, he knew it was time to turn around. It was time to collect the children and take them home.

As he made his way further along the lane, heading back towards one of the main streets, the sound of distant carollers gradually grew clearer. He started humming the familiar tune along with them.

Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon virgin, mother and child. Holy infant, so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace...

As he was reaching the end of the lane, he stopped in his tracks. Holding his breath. Straining to hear. Surely, he was mistaken? It couldn't be. God, he really was going mad! How many times had his head turned on a laugh? How many times had the sweet scent of gardenia pulled him up? He'd lost count of the times he thought he'd caught a glimpse in the crowd. But that voice. He'd know that voice anywhere…

Silent night, holy night. Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar. Heavenly hosts sing "Alleluia…"

His heart was pounding. Before he even realised, his feet started moving. He had to find the choir! But now, there was only one voice among the many that he could hear. Every other voice had fallen away. They'd disappeared. Just like the crowd in the street. He was walking faster now. There was only one thought in his mind. He was focused on just one thing. Only one thing mattered. God, he had to find her!

He was at the end of the laneway now. He stopped. Turning one way, then the other. The carol was being carried along by the wind. It was hard to know where the choir would be. Standing in the middle of the footpath, he was unaware of anyone else. He didn't see the frowns. He didn't realise that people were having to walk around him. That they were almost bumping into him.

Deciding to turn left, he walked quickly along the footpath. Picking up pace, he moved around the crowd, who were content to walk along at a frustratingly leisurely pace. He cursed under his breath as he nearly careered into a woman stepping out from one of the shops onto the footpath in front of him. She was carrying an armful of parcels, which she tried valiantly to hold onto. Normally he would stop to apologise, to help. But there was no time for that. His heart was racing. He was certain he was going in the right direction. He was running now. As the last verse began, he knew he was getting closer. God, he needed to find her.

Silent night, holy night.

He'd reached an intersection. Stopping he looked left. Disappointed, he turned right. His breath caught in his throat. There they were. He'd found them on the other side of the street in front of the church.

Son of God, love's pure light.

Crossing the street with the rest of the crowd, he stopped outside the steps of St Blasius. He was almost too scared to turn in case it was another false alarm. Another cruel trick his mind was playing on him. He couldn't bear to be disappointed again. But he had to know for sure.

Radiant beams from thy holy face with the dawn of redeeming grace.

Turning slowly as the choir sang the last lines of the carol, dreading not seeing her there, he searched the faces among the group. They were lined along the steps at the front of the church. Oh God, there she was! Moving to stand in front of her, behind a young family, he could feel his pulse racing. Removing his hat, he tried to smooth his hair in the strong wind. She was just as he remembered. Just as adorable. She was reading from her hymn book, her cheeks flushed from the cold. God, she was breathtaking.

Jesus Lord at thy birth,

As Maria began the closing line of her favourite carol, she glanced up from her hymn book. The crowd was starting to thin out. It had grown so much colder over the half hour they'd been standing on the steps of St Blasius singing to the crowds of shoppers and families out enjoying the city's Christmas lights and decorations. It was their final carol tonight, and she was looking forward to going back inside, out of the biting wind. Just as she opened her mouth to sing the final words, her eyes found his...

Jesus Lord at thy birth.

Her breath caught, making it impossible to sing. All she could do was stare at him. She was still holding her breath. She didn't move in case it was a dream. As she held onto his eyes, she could see they were filled with questions and uncertainty. But there was hope as well. It was like a dream. Everything else around her suddenly fell away. There were no shoppers, no other people on the street. The Christmas lights blurred. Even the cold air that had been making her wish she was inside only minutes earlier, suddenly seemed warm.

Nodding and accepting the thanks of the appreciative crowd, the other choir members were already turning towards the door of the church, eager to seek some shelter and warmth inside. But Maria hadn't moved. She was scared she was dreaming. After all she'd dreamed of seeing him again so many times before. Frightened that if she moved suddenly, she'd wake up and realise that none of this was real, she held herself tight.

She felt someone touch her elbow, asking if she was coming inside. Without turning away, still held by the intensity of his eyes, she mumbled something about joining them shortly. And then he smiled at her. That half grin of his. The one that made his eyes sparkle and dance, and her heart skip a beat.

Unable to break his gaze, she somehow managed to negotiate the five steps down to the footpath. She hadn't even looked down to make sure she didn't trip on the old, worn stones. Her feet felt like they were floating. All that mattered was getting closer to him. She needed to reduce the distance between them before he slipped away. Before she found that it was all her imagination. Again. Oh my, what was he doing here? What would she say to him after all this time? She reminded herself that it had really only been a few months. It felt so much longer.

"Fraulein," dipping his head, her name rolled off his tongue as she came down the last of the steps and stood in front of him. He wanted to say so much. But as usual, around this woman, he could barely find his voice. His mind had become a mass of muddled thoughts. So many things were racing through his mind. Everything that he should have said, but hadn't. Everything that he'd needed to tell her, but didn't. God, why couldn't he think clearly?

"Captain," Maria smiled back at him. She wasn't sure what to say after all this time. After all, everything had become so strained and awkward by the time she'd finally left villa.

"You look well," he managed, kicking himself that he had to resort to small talk while he tried to clear his mind. Trying desperately to sort through his thoughts, it struck him that she wasn't wearing her habit. Instead, she was wearing a thin coat over a traditional dress. What did it mean, he wondered? Was she still a postulant? His heart leapt at the thought. "How is everything at the Abbey?"

"Oh, Captain," she smiled as she recalled how often he'd questioned her suitability for a life of vocation. "I'm no longer at the Abbey."

"Really? I'm sorry to hear that..." he held himself tight, trying to hide his excitement. Joining the convent had been her dream for so long. He knew that she'd be disappointed that things had turned out differently. But so often he'd found himself thinking that Max would be more suited to the life of a cloistered nun than Maria. He couldn't help a smile escaping at the thought. At the possibility.

"Yes, well, I think the Reverend Mother knew all along," Maria said quietly, as if sharing a well kept secret. "It just took me a little longer than everyone else to realise," she let out a nervous laugh.

"Fraulein, I just assumed when I didn't see you around town that you were still at the Abbey," it had saddened him to think of Maria locked behind the walls of Nonnberg. He'd been resentful of God for taking her away from him. Especially after discovering what a vibrant, free spirit she was. "So, what are you doing now?" he asked tentatively, holding his breath, all his hopes hanging on her response.

"I felt a little lost for a while, to be honest…" she looked away.

Flexing his fingers, Georg just wanted to pull her into his arms. God, how he wanted to tell her that she'd never have to feel lost again. To tell her that he was here now. And now that he'd found her again, he would never let her go. She'd never again feel alone or lost. He felt his heart soar at the thought. But he resisted the temptation, knowing that he needed to hear her first. He still had to let her finish. He still didn't know what she was doing here.

"After a few weeks, the Reverend Mother arranged for me to travel to Tyrol to help teach at one of the schools," she told him. "I've come back to Salzburg with one of the other teachers. Hannah's parents live here, and...well...I had nowhere else, you see," she looked away, hoping he hadn't seen the sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, Fraulein," Georg reached down to catch her hand in his, unable to resist any longer. He had her now. He would never let go of her again. "Your hands are so cold!" Shocked, he looked down, realising she wasn't wearing any gloves or mittens. Unbuttoning his black overcoat, he took the scarf from around his neck and tenderly wrapped it around her. His breath caught as his fingers brushed her neck.

Taking off his black, kid gloves and stuffing them in his coat pocket, he reached down for both of her hands and wrapped them in his much larger ones. Pulling them gently towards him, he rubbed them and blew on them to warm them in the freezing air. Happy that they were warmer, he clutched them to his chest, covering them with his own, unable to resist the feeling of her skin against his. God, any excuse just to touch her.

"How are the children?" Maria asked softly, looking up at him as she forced herself to ignore the warmth from the Captain's hands that was making its way down her arms.

"They're good," he broke out into a smile at the mention of the children. "They miss you terribly. Even now," he added. "We've been out shopping. But they're warming themselves at one of the cafes down the road."

"And the Baroness? How is she?" Maria asked tentatively, forcing herself to ask out of politeness.

"The Baroness…?" Georg asked, confused. Oh God, she hadn't heard. She didn't know. "There is no Baroness."

"I...I don't understand," Maria frowned at him.

"Well, we called off our engagement, you see," he replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she responded automatically without thinking, her mind suddenly racing with the news. He didn't marry Baroness Schraeder after all? They were engaged when she'd left. She'd just assumed they would be married by now.

"You are?" he asked a little too quickly. He was even more confused. His mind drifted to the days after Maria returned to the villa. She'd been so withdrawn, so sad. Had she really wanted him to marry Elsa?

"What...?" too lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard what he'd said. She was still coming to terms with the news that he wasn't married. The Captain wasn't married. There was no Baroness. It was all she could think about.

"Maria…" Georg whispered her name, trying to catch her attention. She looked up at him, "How could I marry someone when I'm in love with someone else?" he asked her. He had no idea if she shared his feelings, but he'd be damned if he'd let her go this time without telling her. Still holding her hands against his chest, he squeezed them, silently begging her not to pull away. He didn't think he could watch her walk away from him again. Holding his breath, he waited, searching her for a reaction. It seemed like an eternity. He waited. All hope suspended. He prayed that she wouldn't pull away. He hoped that he hadn't frightened her. But eventually, slowly, he watched her eyes widen as she realised what he was saying.

Finally, he felt her squeeze his hands and watched as the smallest smile tugged at her lips.

He let go of one of her hands and brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. It matched his racing pulse. After all this time, she knew how he felt. Finally. And she was still standing here in front of him. She hadn't run. He needed to kiss her. He couldn't wait a moment longer. He'd waited far too long already. All he could think was that he was about to kiss Maria. To feel her gorgeous lips under his. Finally. Oh God, and this time, he wasn't dreaming.

"Maria…" It was a plea. A desperate admission. The past months had been torture. Now, he just needed her.

The air around them was growing heavy and heated with a heady mix of anticipation and a desperate, burning need. Heavy with expectation and realisation. Heavy with the ache of being separated for too long. Heavy with a desire that had been denied for too long. A desire and hunger that could no longer be ignored. They'd both fought it for too long. They'd tried to act indifferent. Tried to pretend it wasn't there. But now it was impossible to bury their feelings. Especially now that they were both free. Especially after enduring the pain and heartache of the past months alone. Long months that had felt empty and hollow. Months where they'd both ached for each other.

Looking down at her lips, Georg watched her part them slightly. It may have been his imagination, but he was sure that her breathing was coming a little faster now. It was shallow and her chest was rising and falling more rapidly. Oh God, she felt it too!

Bending down, he gently brought his lips to hers. Trying not to overwhelm her, remembering to hold himself in check, he kissed her softly. It was chaste. It was as sweet as he'd imagined. Despite letting his lips linger on hers, clinging to her a little longer than necessary, it was over much too soon. God, he felt like his heart was going to burst. The relief of finally holding her in his arms was almost overwhelming.

As she felt him pull back, Maria's eyes remained closed. She didn't want to open them to find out that this was all a dream. She couldn't bear waking up to find that the Captain wasn't standing in front of her. That he hadn't just kissed her. That she wasn't really surrounded in his familiar musky scent. It would be too much. She may not have opened her eyes, but she couldn't stop a smile escaping onto her lips.

"Is this really happening?" she barely whispered.

"Maria," Georg reached down and lifted her chin up, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. "I love you." The words were tumbling out before he could even try to stop them. Before he could even stop to think whether she might feel the same. But he didn't care. It was too late to hold back. He needed her to know. He couldn't let her walk away again without telling her. He'd made that mistake before. He'd be damned if he'd let her go again.

A wide smile spread across Maria's face. He loved her! It was all she needed to know! Nothing else mattered! But before she could even stop to think, before she could even draw breath, his lips were on hers again. But this time, it wasn't a chaste, gentle kiss. This time she could feel all the passion and desperation that had been building over the past months. She'd been feeling it too! She'd felt it all summer, and neither time nor distance had eased her aching need. As he brought his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, she took hold of the lapels of his overcoat in both her hands and clung onto him as his coat fell around her, enveloping her in his strength, comfort and warmth.

Georg had told himself that he would take things slowly. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't get carried away. But before he could even stop to wonder where all his resolve had gone, he'd bent down to capture Maria's lips with his again. His arm was around her waist, desperately pulling her against him. The last time he'd felt her body against his, they'd danced the Laendler at the party. He realised now how much his body had been aching to feel hers again.

From that night, he'd committed the imprint of her body against his to memory. Driven by a desperate need, he pulled her closer still. How many times had he imagined her against him? How many times had he dreamed of her body moving against his? Moving underneath his. Moving to their own delicious rhythm, searching for an exquisite release. The relief of feeling her in his arms now was almost overwhelming.

Just as he was about to pull away, he felt Maria's hand reaching up and gently touching his neck. He could feel her reaching to rake her hand through his hair. Oh God, he was losing the last shred of control. Now she was grabbing handfuls of his hair. Nothing was going to stop him now. He'd waited too long for this moment.

Oblivious to the crowds around them, unaware that people were now staring and shaking their heads, he opened his mouth against hers. He needed to taste her, to discover if she was as sweet as he'd imagined. As she opened her mouth to his, his tongue found hers. Rather than pull back, she matched his hunger with a desperation of her own. He may not have been aware of the crowd around them, but he was committing every moan, every sigh of Maria's to memory. There was no stopping him now. He knew he needed her. All summer, he'd wanted her. Only now could he admit how much.

As much as it was a relief to finally hold her in his arms again, he knew it wouldn't be enough. He needed to feel her skin against his. He needed to see all of her. To touch every inch of her. To discover every freckle, learn the story behind every little scar. To explore her. God, the passion that would be unleashed. He could already feel it burning.

But he needed to check himself. Reluctantly lifting his lips from hers, he realised how ragged his breathing was. He smiled at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing was as shallow as his. The rapid rise and fall of her chest was making it hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted her. How much there was to discover. Looking back up at her, his breath caught. Her eyes, normally clear blue, were almost black with desire. Oh God, she was such a temptation.

"Maria..." he managed to say as he still tried to catch his breath.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to try to answer, a stray white flake floated down and rested on her cheek. "Oh!" she gasped, looking up toward the sky. Against the street lights, she could see more flakes starting to fall. "How beautiful," she murmured breathlessly, looking back at the Captain.

Smiling broadly, unable to hide his delight, Georg grabbed hold of Maria's hand. "Come with me," he whispered as he pulled her along the street.

"Where are we going?" Maria laughed as she struggled to keep up with him, the snow starting to fall steadily as they hurried along the street.

Turning back to grin at her, Georg led her down the next laneway and into the sheltered alcove of a shop, which seemed to have closed its door earlier in the evening.

Before she could stop to think, Maria was being pulled into his arms. Smiling up at him, her eyes bright, she tried to catch her breath. Rushing along the street, with the cold air hitting her lungs had left her breathless. But she knew it was not the only reason. His kisses had left her out of breath and giddy. Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her again.

"Maria, I've missed you so much…" Georg whispered, suddenly serious, as he bent down to kiss her again. He told himself that he would only steal a quick kiss. After all, there was still so much to talk about. There were so many things he needed to tell her. But as his lips touched hers, he knew that trying to stop now would be impossible. Her lips clung to his, and before he could even think, he was opening his mouth against hers. God, he just needed another taste.

As he swallowed her sighs and moans, she felt him grabbing her waist, turning her around and pushing her gently back against the shop's door. As he pressed the length of his body against hers, it was almost more than she could bear.

Trying to remind himself that he wasn't going to get carried away, Georg knew that he should be making his way back to the café. But he couldn't stop now. He'd only just found her. His body had been aching for her touch since her first day at the villa. His heart had been breaking since she left. Pulling his scarf away from her neck, he leant down and trailed kisses from her lips, across her jaw until he found a thundering pulse at the base of her neck. God, her scent was such a delightful distraction. Her hands were in his hair now. She was raking her hands through his hair, as he traced her pulse with his kisses. Oh, God, he needed to stop.

But it was impossible. She was bringing him undone without even trying. He was like a man possessed. "I need you…" he whispered into her ear, unable to hide the desperation of the past months when he'd been haunted by the thought that he'd lost her forever. Capturing her earlobe in his mouth, she moaned against him as she grabbed handfuls of his jacket under his coat and held him to her.

Suddenly, Georg was aware of a noisy group of revellers making their way along the laneway towards them. Pulling back from Maria, he was mindful that he'd been kissing her in the doorway of a shop on a street in Salzburg. How had he let himself get so carried away? She deserved better than this. But he wasn't going to apologise for losing himself in her. He wouldn't apologise for his hunger.

Brushing her flushed cheek with the back of his hand, he smiled down at her as the revellers passed by, barely paying them any attention.

"Maria, the children…" he started as he tried to draw air back into his lungs.

"I know," she replied between deep breaths. "You need to go. I understand," she added quietly, looking away before he could catch the sadness in her eyes.

"I can't leave you here. I want you to come with me," he said a little too quickly, his desperation making it sound less like a plea, more like a command. "Please, come with me?" he asked softly, remembering himself.

Now that he'd found her again, he knew there could be no letting her go. And the possibility that one day she would be his, his alone, his in every sense, was exhilarating. He needed her. He'd wanted her since the first day he set eyes upon her in the ballroom, curtsying to an invisible dance partner.

"Maria, come with me."

Please forgive me for indulging in a little Christmas story full of sugary fluff! I've shamelessly channelled the magic and romance of Love Actually, where anything's possible, just because it's Christmas.

I wrote this for a dear friend - you know who you are, and I did try to warn you! Merry Christmas!

Wishing everyone a wonderful Christmas and New Year!

As usual, I own nothing, just had a little lend!

"Immerse your soul in love"