Hey,

As a fan of Chess, I always wanted to know what happened after Chess. About Florence, I loved all of the stories that were out there. Just a part of me wanted to write this story. Because I always wanted to know what happened to her father.

This is what I wanted to happen.
DISCLAIMER: The story of Chess does not belong to me. I love this musical and I found a need to give Florence the ending I needed her to have. I love both Florence and Svetlana, but I don't think she and Anatoly were truly the best for each other.

So here's the story I wanted to write. Feel free to review!

It would mean the world to me.

Enjoy,

TempeGeller.

Love after Chess

Chapter 1: Gone

After a year in London, Florence felt like heading away from the busy city. There was no lonelier place than a city filled with people who were just as lonely as she was. She had never been this unoccupied, at times like this she would keep an eye on her chess champion. Right now there was no one to look after, no one but her. Years she hadn't taken care of herself. Now she noticed how her living style wasn't healthy at all.

The fast lunches she still used, were horrible for her. She knew her body didn't need any of those high fat or high sugar products. She was surprised that she hadn't gained any wait on a lifestyle like this. Why didn't anyone tell her that it was unhealthy? That's right, no one had cared. Even Antonly had been too busy with chess at time, to even care. And Freddy only had eyes for himself. Why did she never demand more attention? The truth was really simple, Florence was simple not an attention hugger. She was a young person. Someone that took care of other people. That's why she couldn't take care of herself.

She stared out of the window from London, this was a simple apartment. The walls were painted in a bright purple color. The furniture was in a subtle brown color, the kitchen had not been used. Not since she moved in here after Bangkok. She had lived in London with Antonly, but they had decided not to return. She had no idea whether this was an omen of the fate of their relationship. Was Antonly aware of his return to the Sovjet union? Off course he wasn't. That was what she hoped. She stared at the phone, she was waiting for it to ring. She was obsessed by finding out about the fate of her father. Was he dead? If he was, she would be all alone. It wouldn't change anything. She turned to the window once more again. Florence remembered the days in Hungary. They ran away when the Russians attacked Budapest. Her father and mother had taken her away. Did she remember anything? She wasn't sure. She didn't remember anything special. She believed that the most memories she had, were ones that she created. The facts were simple, her father was captured. Her mother had taken of her and later she had fallen in a depression. She remembered that her mother hadn't been all that happy and when she was 8, she died. Some said of a broken heart, in reality she had died of an extremely hard winter in London England. From then on her aunt had raised her. Florence only 8 had grown.

At 17, Florence was drawn to Chess. Not just Chess, to Freddy. Freddy was a careless chess champion. He didn't have any manners, and was convince that everyone around him couldn't be trusted. On the outside he seemed like a cruel man, an arrogant chess champion. Yet, Florence still was drawn to him. Maybe it was the lack of any parental figures in his life as well. They were the same in so many ways. Yet, they were different. Florence liked to take care of people and Freddy. She stayed with him for seven years, that was when it got too much. Freddy's behavior towards her was getting worst. He always directed mean words to her, especially when he did something wrong. Or when the press had talked about his 'high' demands. Florence was always the one that endured under his pressure and in a way it was so show his affection. Yet, showing affection through frustration didn't create a fun loving feeling. When he addressed Florence as his second, he always talked about how demanding she was. About how firm she needed to be. There was never a moment for her to break down.

And when you had no time to break down, sometimes you didn't feel a thing at all. Because when you are trying to hide any emotion, you would become numb for the world.

The phone rang as a high pitched sound. In her mind she wanted to run towards it, pick it up and scream at whoever was on the other end. Scream to return Anatoly to her. Or maybe anyone that could care for her. Yet that wouldn't be fair to whomever was calling the house. Most people were unaware of her broken heart. Since her face never showed any pain or
She stepped to the phone, she placed the horn to her ear. "Vassy." Answering with her last name was difficult right now and the voice on the other end was no other that of Walter de Courcey, the man that worked for Global TV. She didn't really want his voice, yet the news about her father was something she did want to hear.
"We know nothing." His voice whispered as she threw the phone on its holder and sat down on the closest chair. Tears coming down over her face, they didn't know anything, that was not a good thing. If he were alive, they would have known by now. Did she have to give up Anatoly for that?
When she stood up, her head felt weak and for just a moment she thought she wouldn't be able to keep her body right up. So she returned to her sitting position. She had gotten up to fast, or she had known too much pressure in the last month. Well, she had. Slowly she moved from the chair to her bed. She moved her arms around her body, and covered herself in the covers. As she closed her eyes, she found peace for just a moment.

Her eyes awoken when a wave of nausea hit, her legs hadn't moved faster in the last moment since she had returned from Bangkok. She hovered above the toilet as 5 minutes later, she felt better than she had before. When she cleaned her mouth, she was confronted with her own reflection. She looked bad, her skin was almost transparent white, her eyes were smaller than normal. And her hair was mess, she looked like someone that was about to give in.
"Come on, Florence." She moved her hand to her face. "You can do better, you don't need him."
It almost seemed that her mind screamed untruth in her. It told her that she did need him, she had needed him for all those months. He knew her well, without even needing to say a word. True, she wasn't a woman of many words and he wasn't a man of many either, yet with one word they could explain this entire situation. 'Awful' that word came pretty close.

As she stared at her reflection, she almost felt the need to break the mirror. Yet fighting that need was easier than she expected. Walking away from it did the deal. She stepped in her kitchen, everything had been packed up. Yet she was still able to find a glass she had missed the day before. The water didn't taste to well, almost like the emotion that was screaming in her body. And then a knock on the door.
She almost wanted to smile maybe it was her father. Maybe they hadn't called that he was coming home. Maybe they wanted to surprise her, in her mind she could see him as she opened the door. She didn't know what face to put to the figure, yet she knew that her father would not recognize her either. As she opened the door, disappointment hit her as it was Freddie who watched her.

"It's you…" She rolled her eyes in frustration.
"Well, can you at least fake that you're happy to see me." He smiled "It's not really good for my self-esteem."
"You will survive it." She stepped in her apartment. "What's it Trumper?"

"Florence, I thought we were on first name basis."
"Well, a lot has happened." Florence stared in his eyes. "Frederick."
"I can do with that." He stared at her. "Heard anything about your father's case? Is he on his way home?"

"The chance exists that he's dead." Florence sat down as she put her hand to her head, she felt the same feeling in her head. Almost like she was fainting. "de Courcey didn't know anything. So, it's still waiting, I fear the worst."
"I'm sorry, Florence. Are you okay?" He stared at her. "Florence, I care for you and you look rather poor. Like you haven't slept for weeks…"
"I think that's because I didn't sleep very well…" She felt how another wave of nausea hit her. Once more again her legs carried her to the bath room, with her head over the toilet. She felt Freddie's very presence in the room. Almost like she had eyes in the back of her head. As she returned her eyes to him, he kneeled down beside her.
"Why didn't you call that you were sick?" Freddie slowly pulled her closer.
"Please, I…" Florence turned away. "I don't know what's going on with me Freddie. I've been.."
"Can you please leave?" She stood up. "I need to pack some more, I'm moving to Scotland. It's to busy in London, so I need time."
"Florence, do you think it's smart? You in that house all by yourself?"
"I think I need to move on from this apartment, Freddie." Florence turned away. "This house, this city, everything. It holds to much memory to Anatoly. So undoing the memories from its form, I decided to leave the memories in London."

"So you're running?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I wouldn't call it running." She turned away. "I would call it moving on. I can't move on in this city, I'm not like you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Freddie turned to her. "Florence."

"He's not coming back Freddie." She stared at her feet. "Neither of them, not my father or my Anatoly. Can you leave, I have some packing to do."
"Then why don't I help you?" He walked towards the big pile of boxes. "What do you need to pack Florence? I can talk some sense in you…"
"Why are you here Freddie?" She turned to him. "It's been a month, why weren't you here earlier? Why are you here when I don't need you."
"I would like to disagree with that…" He smiled "I'm making myself handy, am I not?"

He stepped towards her bedroom, throwing open her dresser. He grabbed a box from the living room as he started to carefully put her clothes in the boxes. Florence slowly crossed her arms, she stared at him. He was almost too careful to keep her clothes neat and tidy. She rolled her eyes as she took another box and opened the dresser next to his. She copies his careful movement and brought her clothes in the boxes.
"I used to love this dress…" He took of its hanger and put it in the box.
"I know…" She smiled for just a moment. "What is it you want, Freddie? You never just help…"
"Florence, I want you back…" Freddie turned to her. "I wanted to prove that I could be there for you when you needed me. How can I prove that when you're moving?"
"I'm moving, that's final." She put some of socks in the box. "Why do you care so much Freddie?"
"Because I love you Florence." He turned away from her to reach for another dress. "Always have, always will."
"Then you had a very strange way of showing." She turned away. "Freddie, too much has happened. I…"
"I have always taken you for granted." He took a skirt from its hanger. He turned to her. "I never knew you were the only one that actually took care of me, It felt so invasive to me. I never thought it meant a thing to me, you were the first one to ever…"
"To ever what?" She shook her head. "Love you or help you?"
"Both." He reached for another piece of clothing. "When you were getting closer to Anatoly, I thought I didn't need you. You don't know what you have, when you lose it."
"Well, I'm glad you understand that Freddie." She closed the drawer as she opened the next. "But it's too late now, too much has happened between us and I don't know if I can ever trust you again. You don't understand how much words hurt, Freddie. And until you do, you will never truly see the consequence of your actions."
"I do know what my words do…"
"You don't." She started putting the content of the drawer in the box. "If you knew the thing your words did, you would put this thing in the past. It's over, Freddie. You left chess in the past, why don't you put me with that? We should be in each other's pasts. Just like Anatoly is in my past."
"Accept he's not…"

"Well, that's my own issue." Florence glared at him, almost like she was trying to send her anger to him. It wouldn't reach him, she returned her gaze to the work she was doing.
"I'm returning to chess." Freddie turned away. "Anatoly was the one that actually showed me how much I needed chess. I will be competing. What do you say, my perfect second?"
"I'm not coming back." She turned away. "I've spend my whole playing games, I'm done. I'm taking up a new job, I'll be writing for a newspaper. I'm done. I however can give you the address of a perfect second."

"Florence, we're a team."

"No, I'm moving on from that life." Florence turned around. "I'm leaving chess in England, but don't make that a reason not to visit me in Foula."
"you're moving to Foula?"
"It's time Freddie." He slowly touched his hand. "Good luck with the chess. I have faith you can become the best again. You were always such a great chess player. I have just one tip, please don't let anything get to your head again, you were on your best when you just care about chess."
"You're right Flo." He put the last of her clothes in the box. "So this is it. This is goodbye?"
"No." She hugged him. "This is 'visit me when you want, but leave chess home'."

As she had her arms pulled around her, another wave of nausea hit her. She ran to her bathroom, putting her head over the so familiar toilet.
"Flo, will you go to the doctors?" He pointed to her. "That bug doesn't look all to healthy. And you can't possibly be moving all your stuff this way."
"Freddie, what does that mean?"
"I'm going to help you, I owe that to you?." Freddie smiled "When does the moving truck arrive?" "Tomorrow afternoon." She shook her head. "So I'll just make an appointment with a doctor. It's just a bug, he'll say I need to rest and it will just go away."
"Well, let him say that." Freddie smiled "That's why they're here for."

As Florence returned from the doctor, the news of a pregnancy still sunk in. She didn't believe that she was actually taking a memory of Anatoly with her. It was something that she couldn't leave behind in London, as hard as she tried. An abortion was not something that had graced her mind, not even for a second. As the late year of 1981 ended around her, she returned her memory to the competition in early November. How far it seemed from her? Yet her body showed the signs of a month far in her pregnancy.
What was she going to do? Should she consider calling Anatoly or should she keep her current situation a secret to him? And how did she even need to reach him, she didn't have a number. She was sure if she went through the proper channels, she would be able to figure out his phone number. People would gladly give it to her, there was no reason why they wouldn't. Yet a part of herself wanted to keep him unaware of that. What good would it do if he knew? He wouldn't be able to get to her, he wouldn't be able to help her. He was bound to Svetlana, in a marriage that made neither of them happy.

She was hundred percent sure of the unhappiness of both parties. Maybe it was Sventlana's own infidelity that kept her bound to a man she might have loved, once upon a long time ago. But right now it was a truth that anyone could see, there was no love between the two of them. Maybe there was some kind of need to keep the other one save, as well as getting Florence her father back. Yet nothing of that had worked. And it was all because of Malakov and his secret plans. He was a KGB agent, and one in every sense of the word. He used people as pawns in his plan and once they were no use to him, he got rid of them.
People never left his chance and chess was the biggest weapon to show the power of the East. That was the very thing that pushed her away from chess, it had too much negative tastes in her memory. Yet its very starting point was positive, her father had thought her chess as a way to connect to her. They had played for hours and there was not one secret the game had for her. Yet the negativity prevented her for playing herself, women were not smart enough to claim the game as their own. And even when she was Freddie's second, they always looked at her as not belonging there. So being a champion herself wasn't an option in these days, so she decided to join champions.
It was only until her father and mother were gone that she was pulled to the world of competitive chess, a world where the cold war of East and West was noticeable in. Who won was the one that represented the power of their side. And when she met Freddie, she had tried to keep his East hating side out of the news. Yet it was always that side that kept coming up. When he won he was a hero to the world and the year later, they did everything to pull him from that hero spot. Maybe that was the very reason why he lost from Anatoly, the pressure got to him. It made him weaker than the man that stood above all of it.

She turned away, now this was it, she was leaving Chess behind her and moving to a place that wasn't known to many. An island, she was sure that people would leave her alone. It wasn't world news that she stopped being a second to champions. It would have been bigger news if anyone knew of her current position, the pregnancy she hoped to keep from everyone.

As she opened the door, she stared at Freddie. He seemed worried about her as he threw his arms around he flare figure.
"So, what did the doctor say?" He watched her eyes. "The flue?"
"Yes." She nodded with a smile. "Any phone calls when I was gone?"

"Well, De Courcey called." Freddie turned to him. "They found your father. He's alive."
Her eyes opened farther as she heard the happy news she never expected to hear. She thought he would be dead, she thought he would be gone. Now she found out she was not alone anymore. Her father was alive. She smiled as she opened her mouth. "When is he coming home?"
"Well, he got on a plane about 2 hours ago." Freddie stared at his watch. "The flight would take about 5 hours. I think he will land in about 3 hours."

"Did they say what flight he was one?" Florence smiled "Where he would be landing?"
"I'm picking him up." Freddie stared at him. "I think you will better rest, I mean you need to be rested when you see him once again."
"Don't you think that will freak him out?" She turned to him. "Freddie, he doesn't know you. I'm his daughter, I should be there when you pick him up. I insist on being there!"
"And I insist you're resting. Florence you are sick, you should stay in bed." He pointed to her bedroom door. "You sleep. Beside you should be here when the moving trucks arrive. So they don't steal any of your stuff…"

"That's right, the events made me forget about moving." She turned away. "Or you could look after the moving trucks when I pick up my father?"
"What if you get sick behind the wheel?" He lifted an eyebrow. "And you lose control off the vehicle. It could end up bad for you and your father. Trust me, I'll make sure your father feels hundred percent welcome."
"Did De Courcey say anything about his mental state?" Florence folded her arms . "Sure being in a Russian prison can't do much good, especially when you didn't do anything wrong."
"He didn't say a thing about that, Florence." Freddie replied "You know De Courcey, he doesn't give a damn about human emotions. He's just as uncaring as that Russian bastard."

"Good." Florence nodded. "I'll just do as you say and go get some rest."
"Good girl." He smiled.

She did as he asked her. She folded the warm covers around her tired body. As she closed her eyes, she held her hand to her stomach. She had her baby now and her father. Well, she obviously needed to tell her father about the baby. She also needed to tell him about them moving to an island in Scotland, not that she thought he would really mind. The last thing he needed now was the busy streets of London, they were not like Hungary at all. There were too much people and that was not good in his current state of mind. She smiled, luckily was the house she bought big enough for all of them. She had saved up money in all of this years working, and she was able to buy an house on Foula. A 4 bedroom house with a very large garden and a big attic. She was sure she would never need it, yet it was the most beautiful house. And since she was in love with the house and money could buy her dream, she decided to buy the beautiful house. Right now it she wanted to know if she felt the outcome of events. A bedroom for the baby, one for her and one for her father. That would still give her a spare room, if Freddie ever felt the need to come over. Not that she wanted it, but she was sure that Freddie would drop buy. She turned to the clock, how come only 5 minutes had passes? She was sure time was making a mock of her, going very slow so she would go crazy with it.

Calm down Florence. Time is not able to drive you insane. You've lived through worst thing thatn this. You surely can live 3 more hours without your father. More, since Freddie needed to find her father, drive back here. Technical it would be around 4 hours, or maybe even more. Since her apartment wasn't really close to the apartment. She turned away from that clock, that damn clock that kept mocking her with every glare she even dared to make to it. Stupid clock, she thought, why couldn't time go fast when she wanted to. When she was with Anatoly time was fluent, it went faster than water itself. And hours passed in only minutes. And this time, didn't do that. It haunted her very existence, as Anatoly's absence; What would he be doing right now? Would his mind be with her too? And would he be thinking about moving too? With his family, She hated that he had kids, that he thought of as his kids. And she had a child that would not be counted to that term, since this child would never be part of the group 'his kids'.

She turned around to the clock once more again, as the clock moved one minute farther. She smashed her hand to it as it fell to the floor. She thought about it, didn't she have to pack her bed too. Yes, Freddie was going to take that in his moving van. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't. She just couldn't.
It seemed like a minute had passed, her eyes had closed for only a minute. Yet it felt like so much time had passed. The door opened up as footsteps walked in the room.
"Florence!" The voice of Freddie came from the living room. There were two footsteps, one that belonged to her father. She was sure of it.
"She's a bit sick, I'll get her." Florence threw her leg out of the bed as she heard those words. The dizzy feeling didn't stop her for a minute. She ran to the door and opened it. There was Freddie and next to him was a man that looked familiar. He had dork brown eyes, the kindest she reminded from her past. She reminded them from her many chess games. Eyes that were kind and promising. He was wearing simple clothes, a blue pants and a blue shirt with long sleeves. His hear was white grey and he was about a head taller. When she was younger he was double her size. Right now it seemed that he was still the hero she remembered him to be.

"Florence." He opened his arms to invite her in them. And he didn't have to ask twice, she ran towards him and took the hug he had meant for her.
"I missed you so much Florence." He had tears in his eyes. "Where's your mom?"
"Mom…" She paused. "Mom died."
Silence and pain came to his face in one moment. Off course her father could have foreseen the dead of his wife and her mother, but maybe he expected to return to his family. He would wake the family complete. Florence turned to him.
"So this handsome man…" Her father paused. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"Daddy!" She gave him a playful push. "No, this is Freddie. My friend. I used to be his second, he was the world champion in Chess."
"Oh, is that so?" He smiled at her. "I actually thought my daughter would be a perfect example of a chess champion herself. She's pretty sly you know. Her face told me her pieces were horrible and with one move, she defeated me with no way out."
"Your daughter is a very good chess player." Freddie smiled "Losing her would be an honor on itself. It's a shame that the world regards women unable to play chess."
"Not a shame…" Her father smiled "A disgrace."

"Gregor Vassy." Freddie laughed in humor with the man next to him. "So you heard your daughter is moving to a small island in Scotland."
"Yes." Gregor turned to him. "You told me about in the ride over here, how you were sure it was a stupid decision. Yet I agree, if there's something you need to move on from. You need to leave.."
"Oh, so you probably told dad all about Anatoly on your way over here?"

"Well, he did tell about the past years in your life." Gregor replied "What I can see from this man, he must be noble giving up your love to get me back to you."

Florence nodded her head as she turned away from Grogor and Freddie. The moving truck sounded right at that instant as there was a knock on the door. 'I'm coming' where the words that came in her mind. She opened the door as they started to move the boxes to the moving truck.
"Did you live here with that boy?" Gregor turned to Florence. "Anatoly?"
"Yes I did." She turned away. "That's why I need to get away. Everything reminds me of the year we had together. I need to start with a clean slate."
"So is there room for your old man in that house?"

"Off course."

The next day's went by in a haze. The moving took less time that she had thought, mostly since her father and Freddie took on all the work. Putting every last piece of furniture in the van. Before she left she let her eyes stare at everything for just a moment. The empty walls itself held memories, they spend so much time deciding what colors they needed to be that no wall had no memory to her. The furniture was a different story, they were all hers. And anything that had been his, had been removed a day after he won that very match. Almost like he didn't want to return for that. It had been that guy Molokov, picking up the things 'Anatoly asked for.

And then she closed the door, locking the faze of Antoly in the only way she could. The memories would momently go away. Just a moment, before they would be rushed back in 9 months. Because the baby was surely going to have some of his features. Even if it were just his dark eyes or his curling hair. That child would always remember her about the champion she had lost. Now the car was leaving London, and they were heading to their new home.
The journey took just as much time as she thought. Her father, Freddie and herself tried to listen to music to pass the time away. As the night hit, they looked for a place to stay. A hotel or a motel, or anywhere they could pause for a little while. In those nights Gregor took out his chess board. Even now Florence still had the strategy to beat Gregor.
It brought back pleasant memories from their past.
Freddie stared to them as they were playing together. The smile on Florence's face was the only thing that he could see. It was then he left the room, to the closest payphone in the neighborhood. He put a piece of 2 pounds in the payphone and placed a call to Russia.
"Sergievsky." The male voice said.
"it's me." He spoke. "Her father is save. They're together right now."

"Is she okay, Freddie?" It was Anatoly. Still worried about Florence. "With her father."
"I can assure you she's happy. She's stepping away from chess all together. She's moving to a small island in Scotland. A place where the memories of you, can't bother her."
"So you think she's happy?"

"She will be."
"Freddie, you have to look after her." Antonly spoke "You need to make sure she's okay. Can you do that? Make sure she's happy."
"She has her father…" He smiled "She will be okay. I mean you can forget love, right?"

"I hope I can." With that Anatoly put down the phone. Remind of himself that his family wasn't all that it was. As he saw Svetlana, he closed his eyes. He wasn't happy.