Prisoner of Love

by bluesky5678

Christian Grey has never had to pursue a woman in his entire life. They have always been provided him by his former dominatrix. Now he has met someone he wants but she thinks little of him. He resorts to methods of persuasion that lead him down a dark road. Can he win his prize? Can he keep her if he does?

Prisoner of Love

Christian Grey has never had to pursue a woman in his entire life. They have always been provided him by his former dominatrix.

Now he has met someone he wants but she thinks little of him. He resorts to methods of persuasion that lead him down a dark road. Can he win his prize? Can he keep her if he does?

This is my first story and, of course, it is based on E. 's wonderful characters. It is completed. Review if you wish. My skin is thick :) Since the story is complete, there will be no opportunity (or obligation) to review at the end of each page. If you wish to do so, use the PM feature.

First submited as Prisoner of Love by Filly. I didn't understand how to submit (six stories in and I'm still confused and assumed I needed to supply an author name. I chose, don't know why, Filly. Fanfiction made that word part of the title and used my email name for my author name. Naturally, no one could figure out why "by Filly" was in the title or what it meant :). I tried several times to use the editing feature to make a correction but to no avail. So, since the story is soon to be removed, I'm going to try to fix a few things and resubmit. Probably won't work but….

PRISONER OF LOVE

Another dismal day in Seattle, Washington. Grey stared out the wall of windows in his office wondering what he was thinking when he chose this city of rain as the headquarters for his company. When he left Harvard to start his business, he could have gone anywhere but his family lived nearby as did Elena, so, at the time, coming home to the place he knew seemed to be a no brainer.

Besides, he inwardly snarled, what would a guy like him do with sunshine and warmth? Its charms would be wasted on him.

Suddenly, it seemed that his gray eyes reflected in the window faded into blue eyes; blue eyes the color of the waters of the Sound, blue eyes shining like a rare sunlit sky, blue eyes looking into him, through him. Entranced, he couldn't look away, even tho' a familiar ache took hold of his heart, tightening around it until he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Grey, Mr. Taylor is here. Shall I admit him?" And the blue eyes looked sadly at him and then were gone.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, yes. Send him in, Andrea."

Even tho' Grey was tall and fit, Taylor's physical presence was always intimidating, sometimes even for Grey.

Jason Taylor, tho' long retired from his military career, still carried himself like a warrior..rigid, stern, threatening. His steely jaw and usually dour expression combined with a buzz cut to top it off never failed to put people ill at ease, most people, that is.

Grey had seen him with his little daughter, Sophie, who saw only her daddy who turned to marshmallow when her tiny body ran to him to be picked up. Grey saw to it that Sophie had her own room in his staff residences, a girly room that she was allowed to decorate as she wished. And although he ordinarily preferred that his house manager, Mrs. Taylor, and all his security remain in their own quarters when he wasn't in need of them, on the rare weekend that his ex-wife allowed Jason to have his daughter with him, Sophie had the run of most of the 10,000 square feet of his penthouse. She was a lovely girl who behaved well. She must have been told by her father that some rooms were private so she usually sat reading in the library or had movie nights with her father and Gail in the media room. Grey made sure it was stocked with the latest children's films.

Taylor was a highly valued member of his staff…..loyal, smart, discrete and devoted. Grey, therefore, did what he needed to do to ensure that Jason ignored the many offers to change employers. He arranged for Sophie to have the very best private education and paid Jason well above the going rate to be his head of security.

"Taylor. Anything to report?" Grey always asked but had come to expect nothing. He knew the team was working hard but…

"I'm sorry, sir. Still no leads. Welch and Barney have studied street CCTV surveillance until their eyes gave out. Carl has been digging into every possible financial and familial connection, legalities be damned. She's a ghost.

We've expanded our search to other states and abroad. Nothing."

Grey nodded and turned back to the window, hoping to find her blue eyes staring back at him.

"Thanks, Taylor. That'll be all for now".

Taylor counted…this would be 'thank you' number 5. Grey had even said please on one occasion. The impatient, angry man he'd worked for these six years did not scream at him, threaten his life or his manhood, or any of the numerous torments he rained down on his employees whenever he was displeased. As far as Taylor knew, only Ros Bailey, Grey's #2, was exempt from Grey's tantrums, mostly because she ignored them. But now, since Ms. Steele, he'd been calmer and since her disappearance, lacking any spirit at all.

Although his lack of temper made for a more pleasant working environment, Ros preferred her boss's old distraction-free and murderous demeanor. Things got done. Acquisitions were made quickly and ruthlessly. The workday was uber productive…long and hard but, again, things got done. Now Ros sat at conference tables, working through negotiations, steaming at her inattentive boss, constantly prodding him to pay heed, and stealthily texting him to sit up and glare at somebody. Take charge, damn it!

"You're leaving, sir? It's only 3 pm. Did I forget a meeting, sir?" Andrea, Grey's PA, was the very definition of efficiency and took great pride in being one of the very few people who was rarely a target of her boss's ire. She worked 10 hour days and was well compensated for it. She loved her job and never failed her boss. Today she found nothing in Grey's schedule that indicated that he had an out-of-office appointment.

"No, Andrea. I've just had enough for today and I'm taking off early."

He had a look on his face that brooked no argument or question.

"Oh, certainly. I only thought that I'd made an error. Have a good afternoon, sir".

Grey and Taylor were already in the executive elevator with the door closing as she spoke.

Enough? she thought. He'd had only 2 meetings all day, meetings during which he said nothing, and the rest of the time he stared out the window. He hadn't even eaten the lunch she brought in. What was wrong with him these days?

Andrea had always enjoyed watching pompous, seasoned businessmen stroll confidently into her 27-year-old boss's office only to slink out post-meeting with slumped shoulders and stunned expressions. Because his office was sound-proofed, she wasn't able to listen but through the side window next to the door she could see his posture and his glare as he faced down a roomful of arseholes who thought they could take on wunderkind Christian Grey… and win.

But lately…Andrea sighed and worried. Maybe he was just tired of being the great and fearsome titan of industry…?

Taylor, ever attuned to his boss's moods and needs, didn't have to be told where to go. Through the rear view mirror he saw Grey's weary eyes staring vacantly out the tinted windows of the Mercedes SUV. Another disappointing day. Taylor pulled up in front of a small brick building, half covered in ivy, with shutters on the windows and a small plaque posted by the door that read simply J. Flynn. To anyone walking by, it might seem perhaps a lawyer's office or even a private residence. Privacy was a hallmark of Christian Grey's existence. It would not do to have him photographed visiting the office of his long-time shrink.

Grey stepped into the reception area and nodded at Dr. Flynn's secretary. He didn't have an appointment. He rarely did and, being the arrogant man that he was, he expected to just be invited to sit in his usual place on Flynn's old green sofa. Everything in Flynn's office was old and simple yet refined.

Ignoring the secretary's alert that the doctor was occupied, Grey walked into the office and slumped down in his usual spot, immediately beginning to pick at the loose seam of the arm of the leather couch. Over the years he had been slowly unraveling the arm of that couch and Flynn had stopped having it repaired. Someday he'd replace it and bill his patient.

"Christian, would you like something to drink while I finish my notes from my previous patient?"

As expected, Christian said nothing. Flynn continued with his notes.

"I'm not paying for the time you spend on another patient," growled Christian.

"Understood," nodded Flynn.

After he deliberately took his time completing his work, Flynn finally closed his laptop and then picked up his notebook and pen. He looked over his glasses and down at Christian. Flynn had found that his bulk and his taller chair gave him a psychological advantage over his more recalcitrant patients. He certainly needed every advantage to deal with Christian Grey. Grey had been seeing mental health professionals of every stripe and color since he was first adopted by Grace and Carrick. He knew all the therapies, all the angles. He was smarter than every one of them and knew how to fool them and shut them up.

Flynn had read his file several times and prepared well to treat his new patient. Grey had kept him on his toes for 6 years, coming back even though Flynn often wondered if he was getting anywhere other than to give Christian a sounding board.

For a short while recently Flynn had seen changes but now….

"So, what are you thinking today?"

"I'm thinking what a beautiful day it is" Christian said with a grimace.

"Yes, well, Seattle is overcast and rainy almost two-thirds of the year," conceded Flynn. "Perhaps that is why I feel comfortable here.. It reminds one of home."

"Why have you never gone back to London? Christian asked.

"This is where my wife's family resides and she is, after all, an American. You know the saying, "Happy wife, happy life", smiled Flynn.

Christian just stared at him for a minute and then dropped his head again and went back to work unraveling the sofa seam.

"Surely, you didn't come to talk about the weather," prodded Flynn.

"No, I just felt like wasting another $500 an hour."

"Your choice, Christian. It will be a waste if you don't talk about what's bothering you. We'll get nowhere and you'll continue on in your misery."

Silence.

"How are the nightmares? When we last talked, you said that you'd gotten them under control. What does "under control" mean?"

Christian's eyes glazed over and for a few moments he was far away. There was almost something like peace to his countenance. Then his gray eyes turned dark again and his face seemed to sag. The man wasn't quite 28 and he looked so old and tired.

"Christian, tell me!" Flynn commanded, startling Grey out of his reverie. Usually he gently coaxed information from reluctant clients, preferring that they willingly offer up their thoughts, but the client sometimes needed more than coaxing.

"I can't find her. I've tried everything. I've had people working around the clock and we've looked under every rock to no avail. Every god-blessed morning security comes into my office to announce that they have no leads. Lately I've even had them checking the morgue, tho' if she was found there"…he stopped.

"I'm useless at work. Ros is effectively running my company and none too happy about it either. I've blown a couple of important deals. I'm skipping breakfast and forgetting lunch even when Andrea puts it right in front of me and I don't do much better with dinner".

"Wasting food is a cardinal sin with you," said Flynn, shocked. "I once left half a muffin sitting on the table and got a severe lecture about the starving children of the world!"

"So, are you going to tell me who "she" is"?

"Her name is Ana. She left me 5 weeks ago."

"Well, women have certainly left you before when their contracts were up. What's different about this one?"

"She's Ana. She's different. I didn't want her to go. I never wanted her to go". Christian's head dropped into his hands, his fingers tearing at his hair. For a few moments, the sofa was safe.

Flynn found himself speechless. Christian had never mentioned Ana. He had never talked about any of his contractual arrangements. They were simply tension relievers like running every morning or sparring with his personal trainer. Flynn was aware, of course, that Christian used BDSM as a kind of therapy but that it meant little to him, aside from the occasional problem submissive and Grey never saw his "lifestyle" as an issue needing to be resolved in therapy.

"Was Ana one of your submissives?"

"Initially, yes, that was my intention. However, as time went on….he trailed off, finding it difficult to talk with his throat constricting.

"Keep going, said Flynn, repeating "as time went on"…

"She got under my skin. I didn't even see it coming. Usually when I'd see the signs of my sub becoming too attached, I'd end the contract. I never thought to watch for signs of me becoming attached. All those Friday nights I'd come home from work, excited to see her. All the times I'd forget about going to the playroom because we were talking or playing a board game…ME, Flynn, playing fucking monopoly instead of tying her to my cross in the playroom! All the times she'd fall asleep in my arms watching TV or tucked into the big chair I bought her so she could sit in the library and read and I'd pick her up in my arms and carry her to bed and tuck her in. Then I'd watch her sleep for awhile. I found it to be strangely soothing. A couple of times I crawled in behind her, intending to just hold her for a short time but suddenly it would be morning. It was against the rules to sleep with subs and I didn't want her to have any expectations so I snuck out before she woke. But when I slept with Ana, I never had nightmares. Eventually I asked her to sleep in my bed all the time.

"Wait. You ASKED her?" said Flynn. Grey never made requests of anyone. He ordered. He commanded.

Grey rolled his eyes, then continued.

"When I slept with Ana, I didn't need to get up in the middle of the night to play piano for 2 hours after a nightmare.

I told myself that I was sleeping with her so that I could get in one last fuck without having to walk back to bed from the playroom…that it was easier to just relieve my tension and go right to sleep.

But if she got up in the middle of the night for any reason, I'd wake up; I'd just know that she was gone. Once I didn't wake but I still knew she was gone and I had a nightmare…not the usual kind where the crack whore's pimp was kicking me or burning me with cigarettes but a dream of Ana crying as she walked away from me. When I woke up calling for her, Ana was there…holding my face in her hands and talking to me, gently, until I calmed down. Then I grabbed her and fucked her, only…"

"Only what," questioned Flynn,"go on, only what"?

Christian was back to tearing thru his hair again, having a hard time saying what he needed to say. He looked up at Flynn for the first time, imploring him to let it go, but somehow Flynn knew that he couldn't let this one go. Christian had to say it, whatever it was. He had to say it.

"Only it wasn't fucking," he finally said, almost whispering.

Flynn understood. And knowing Christian as well as he did, he knew that there was confusion swirling through his mind.

Christian firmly believed that he had no heart, that he was incapable of giving and receiving love. This was partly because Elena had brainwashed him into believing that he was incapable of affection for another human being but also because he couldn't stand to be touched on his chest or back where the pimp had left so many burn scars. He had put one of his subs into the hospital with a broken arm and a concussion when she defied his hard limit in the contract and put her hands on his chest. He didn't see it coming and with the onset of a sudden and overwhelming panic attack, he pushed her away so hard that she flew across the room.

Hearing something different from the usual noises from the red room, Taylor rushed in to find Christian hyperventilating, wild-eyed and so out of his mind that he wasn't even aware of Taylor or of the poor girl lying on the floor screaming from fear and pain.

He yelled for Gail and left her to tend to Christian while he took the girl to the emergency room. Having signed a non-disclosure agreement, the girl told the doctors that she was mugged and that this nice man had rescued her. She admitted to Taylor that she had deliberately touched Grey, even knowing that it was a hard limit, because she cared so much for him and thought that she could show him, gently, that he would like being touched.

She was paid off and sent tearfully on her way. Christian had to be sedated. Gail was experienced with a syringe, and when Taylor got home he carried him to his bed. Christian didn't emerge 'til the next evening. Flynn had to make a house call and talk him through it.

Usually, in the red room, Christian was in total control. No one could touch him…because they were shackled or tied or handcuffed or hanging from the ceiling or some other godforsaken thing. He could have sex, get relief. He was safe in that room. He never slept with his subs both because he didn't care for the intimacy and because he feared that they might accidentally touch him in their sleep. Each had her own room and no sub was allowed in his bedroom, for any reason.

And now he was telling Flynn that he had insisted, no, requested that Ana sleep with him in his bed.

"Christian, it's been 5 minutes since you've spoken. Please try to complete the thought you were letting out," Flynn said kindly.

Christian took a deep breath. He was pale. He looked scared.

"Christian, these are only words. They can't hurt you but they might help to free something in you. Try, Christian.

You were having a nightmare about Ana leaving you. She woke you, holding your face in her hands and you grabbed her and..."

"The thing is that I didn't grab her. I took her in my arms and I pulled her down onto the bed, first beside me and then under me and I slowly, tenderly…" At the word 'tenderly," Christian looked up at Flynn stupefied, almost as if he couldn't comprehend how he'd even know how to touch a woman with tenderness…

"loved her."

Flynn realized that he'd been sitting on the edge of his chair for the last 10 minutes, not a comfortable position for a man of his bulk. He eased himself back and smiled at Christian.

"You made love to a woman for the first time in your life," he stated, "and you don't understand how you knew how to do it".

"Exactly! Christian slapped the couch arm.

I didn't even tie her hands. I just knew that she wouldn't touch me, she wouldn't hurt me. I didn't feel hesitant or scared. I just needed to make love to her. And I needed to be sure that she felt that and that her satisfaction was more important to me than my own. I wasn't even thinking about my own orgasm!"

Christian seemed baffled, an expression that Flynn had never before seen on his patient's face. It was a happy memory, something Christian mostly lacked.

"Of course," Christian laughed, "even tho' I wasn't thinking about it, I came like a freight train. It was the best sex I'd ever had. I didn't know it could feel that good. And not just that. I mean, the finale had been always the point, I thought, but with Ana, getting there was something else. I mean, touching her and looking into her eyes and feeling all of her body, not just parts.

Geez, I sound like a romance novel. I'd always thought I was satisfied after a session in my playroom but this was a whole other dimension. After I got my breath back and could see again, I found myself just laughing from pure joy."

"And Ana?"

"She said that that was nothing like in the playroom. I'd always made certain, of course, that my subs were satisfied, unless I was punishing them with orgasm denial. But those were just orgasms, for both of us. This, with Ana, was nirvana.

And you know what she said then? She very shyly asked if we could please do that again soon, Sir. For the first time, she wanted me! Really, for the first time, someone wanted me!"

Christian was beaming and laughing!

He got Flynn laughing, too…Christian's joy was so infectious.

"Okay, not to be a perv but, you know, I mean, did you?", asked Flynn

"Normally I'd need a few minutes to recover. I mean, I'm ready to go again pretty quickly, if I do say so myself", Christian bragged,"but the second I looked into those incredible blue eyes and heard her voice, I was steel rod hard and I stayed that way for hours. I didn't wake up until almost 7 am, the first time in forever that I'd slept past dawn.

I let Ana sleep even tho' I wanted more sex and I got dressed for the office. Usually, no matter the time, if I wanted sex, I'd just wake up my sub.

"I went down for breakfast, ate like a lumberjack and told Gail to let Ana sleep. That's when I found out that Ana always slept in. I'd leave for the office at 7:00 and, I guess, I just assumed that Ana was up and getting dressed. Gail laughed and said that every day getting Ana out of bed was a major production.

"After that I started trying to wake her just because it was so much fun. She'd growl, threaten my life, burrow into the covers like a vole and kick until I finally picked her up and carried her into the shower. As soon as the water hit her, she screamed at me until I'd hear my ears pop!

"I'd wisely make a run for it. I soon found it made more sense for me to stay in bed a little longer, get up with Ana, shower with her and then get dressed because otherwise I'd just have to change out of my wet clothes and start over. I also found out that she was skipping breakfast on the regular and Gail was protecting her from my wrath….. so now I could make sure that she ate every morning.

"I'd have Taylor drive both of us and we'd make out in the car on the way to her office. In the evening we'd pick her up to go home. I stopped staying at the office 'till all hours. By going home with her, we could have dinner together. My subs always cooked on the weekends but I soon found out that cooking is not Ana's forte. She can reheat like a champ so Gail would leave things for us. Ana tried to learn to cook but, my god, it was disaster after disaster. I don't know she managed it. She'd destroy a can of soup.

"After dinner, we'd talk, play games, watch TV…things I never did with my subs. We'd go to bed and make love and then I'd sit with my laptop and work for a few more hours but, truth to tell, it wasn't really productive. I was just so distracted by the little beauty lying in my bed. She'd start out sleeping away from me so that I could work but eventually she'd curl up closer and closer until she was right up against me. Well, then I really couldn't concentrate.

"It was times like that that I'd wish that she was a regular sub so I could just wake her up and have my way with her but then there were other times when I'd put my laptop down and wrap my arms around her and she'd mumble in her sleep, asking for a kiss. It was a trade-off and a damn good one."

Christian was smiling so much as he told stories about Ana that Flynn very subtly texted his secretary to cancel his next appointment. Grey hadn't talked this much all together in 6 years. And Flynn had never heard him laugh. It was all too delightful to end the session. Flynn could only hope that his cancelled appointment wasn't to talk someone off a ledge. He wanted to keep Grey talking and laughing so he kept asking questions.

"It is my understanding that your subs were to show up at exactly 8pm Friday and leave at 1 pm Sunday. However, with you driving her to work, it sounds as tho' Ana was there more often. Is that correct? Did you break your weekend only rule?"

"Yes, I did. It became necessary to do so," Christian shrugged.

Oddly put, thought Flynn, who wisely stayed silent.

"That Monday, after my first weekend with Ana, I woke up feeling great. It had been a great weekend for the first time in memory. I lay there in bed wondering why because, to tell the truth, Ana was a lousy sub, the worst. I'd had bad subs in the past and I'd gently tear up their contracts and tell them not to return. But there I was, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I wasn't sending Ana on her way."

"And in what way was Ana inadequate?" inquired Flynn.

"Usually with my subs I'd be worn out after time in the playroom so I'd just tell them to go to bed and we'd go our separate ways. But with Ana….I soon realized that she didn't have much stamina. She'd fall asleep before I'd even untied her or right after an orgasm. Any other sub would be punished but, for some reason, right from the beginning, I'd give her a pass. Well, she had no experience to begin with and even tho' she studied the contract like a high-priced lawyer, she just didn't think like a submissive. Any other sub who broke as many rules as she did would have been punished every damn day but she was so oblivious. She didn't intend to break rules and, I don't know, I just never called her on any of them. I didn't….well, I didn't train her. That was the point of the rules and the punishments…to train the sub to behave exactly as I wanted them to.

"Subs, as I said, were not allowed into my bedroom. But Saturday, the second weekend, Ana popped her head into my bathroom and brightly asked if I could spare a bit of shampoo because she'd forgotten to buy some more. I stood there dumbstruck at her audacity and watched as she tried to pour from bottle to bottle without making a mess…which she did anyway. Then she asked the name of the drugstore where I purchased the shampoo 'cause she liked it so much. Drugstore! Me! shopping in a drugstore! So, I told her that it was a special formula put together for me at an exclusive spa and all the time I'm trying so hard not to laugh at how damn innocent and cute she is. There she stood, looking down, thinking, and biting her lip before she stood on her tippy toes and kissed me on the cheek to say thank you and promised that she wouldn't forget to buy more shampoo and she apologized for taking mine because it was so expensive. Then she bounced off to her bathroom and I stood there in my towel, grinning, with a raging hard-on.

"I'd lost count of how many punishable infractions she committed in the last 5 minutes and there were glops of $200 shampoo on the floor that I had to clean up before I broke my neck slipping on them."

"Did you ever punish her for any or all of those infractions?", inquired Flynn.

"About 10 minutes after I heard her shower turn off, I decided to go to her room to speak to her and found her lying on her bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but a towel. Her hair was wet and she'd left her balcony door open in the middle of winter.

"More infractions! Subs are supposed to take care of their health and stay safe. I saw red. I was so angry that I raised my hand to whack her as hard as I could on her backside…" Christian paused, "but then I didn't. I closed the balcony door and then I got the hairdryer and dried her hair."

Flynn blinked, befuddled. "You dried her hair? Didn't the noise of the hair dryer wake her?"

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" he laughed. "She kind of hummed a little but slept through the whole thing. When her hair was dry, I took off the wet towel and dressed her in her flannel pjs and tucked her in…like I was her dad or something. That was the second night I crawled into bed with her, intending again to just hold her for a few minutes, and instead fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

The realization when I woke up that I'd slept well again…. Christian stopped.

"I thought they were just flukes."

"So, asked Flynn, did you ever punish her?"

"No. Never."

"She gave me more opportunities than any sub I'd ever had. My experienced subs enjoyed pain. They were just wired that way. They'd even break rules on purpose in order to be punished. They'd request particular kinds of punishments, too. A couple of them were partial to the cane. Others really liked the belt. But, like I said, Ana was not an experienced sub. I spanked her with my hand first time in the playroom, something I'd found all subs actually liked and found arousing. I told her to use her safe words if necessary and was amazed when she didn't. At the time I thought "great". This, I thought, bodes well for future sessions. I complimented her but when I stood her up after finishing, she stumbled. She apologized and blamed it on clumsiness but she kept her head down. When I lifted her chin, I saw tears and, after some coaxing, she admitted that I'd hurt her. And then she apologized again, if you can believe that…to me, the monster. After I'd spanked her, I administered aftercare and calmed her. Then I began tying her to the cross and I saw the fear in her eyes. I could see that she was trying to not cry and I felt my non-existent heart break a little. So, I couldn't go through with it that night.

"I'd never frightened a sub or made them cry except for the one who'd deliberately touched me. Usually the harsher and more stern I was the better the subs liked it. Being commanding turned them on. The whole Dom personality was arousing for them, not frightening. They'd become even more submissive and I'd get harder. That's how this whole thing was supposed to work.

Pain that brought pleasure was the point of BDSM! But this little girl was shaking and crying. What the hell?

"Ana is delicate in some ways. Most of my subs could go 4 hours or more, scene after scene. I soon discovered, however, that Ana could not. Second night I did a 30 minute scene with her, then untied her to let her rest while I set up the next scene. Other subs would sit and watch, twitching with anticipation. With Ana, I looked back and found her curled in a ball sound asleep. This is an infraction.

"I was very angry but I tried to be patient, for the first time in my life. She was so cute, balled up like a kitten. So, I gently woke her and began the next scene. I had her strung up, hanging on the cross, softly flogging her while she was blindfolded but there was no response from her. I lifted the blindfold to find her eyes closed and I didn't even try to wake up her up although I really needed….more. I suppose I could have punished her but she probably would have slept thru it".

Again, Christian is laughing so hard his head is thrown back, collapsing on the couch. Flynn is almost in tears at the sight of his patient enjoying himself. He quickly texted his secretary to cancel all remaining appointments for the day. Let'em jump. This was just too good to call time.

But then Christian ceased his laughter and his face fell into a sorrowful repose again, his eyes dark and dead….the face Flynn was more accustomed to seeing. Grey sighed and began once again to unravel the seam on the sofa arm. Flynn resisted the urge to lean down and slap his hand.

After several minutes of mournful silence, Flynn prodded Grey to continue.

"You were telling me about how Ana came to be spending more than weekends with you. Please continue."

"After the first weekend was over, I found myself thinking about Ana, a lot. I didn't understand because usually on Monday mornings I was right back into CEO mode and thought of nothing but my business. It was only after a long and tiring week that I found myself getting excited on Friday afternoon at the prospect of getting home to my latest sub. God, I needed that playroom time. I'd leave at 6, eat hearty so that I could be strong for hours of discipline and sex and maybe, just maybe, if I wore myself out enough, I'd sleep through the night. I'd spend several more hours in the playroom on Saturday and Sunday morning. By then I'd feel pretty good, king of the world when Sunday rolled around and I'd wave goodbye from the breakfast bar as my exhausted sub dragged herself into the elevator. I'd seclude myself, working in my study 'til late, eat supper and go to bed, have a nightmare, play piano 'till dawn, go for a run and then start all over again."

But after my second weekend with Ana, I woke up on Sunday dreading 1 pm. I walked Ana to the elevator and kissed her goodbye and said something stupid and pathetic like, "I'll see you Friday, right?" I stared at her until the doors closed and then turned around to find Gail gaping at me.

" And Christ!" Grey exclaimed, "Like I said, Ana was a terrible sub. Our playroom sessions were brief and she was easily tired out. After I let her rest for a while that third Friday night, I went to her room to summon her back to the playroom and she was missing. When I couldn't find her where she was supposed to be, contractually obligated to be, damn it, instead of being angry, I found myself feeling kind of panicky, afraid that she'd left. I tore through the house searching and found her sitting at my piano, biting that damn lip and concentrating hard on the keys. Now, no one is allowed to touch my piano but the vision of her sitting there, trying so hard to figure it all out was"…

"Was what?" Flynn pushed.

"Endearing," Christian said sheepishly. "Instead of yelling at her to get her ass back into the playroom, I walked to the piano and heard myself asking if she'd like a lesson. She beamed at me and I melted all over the marble floor. Then she slid over the bench to give me room to sit at my own damn piano." he said, shaking his head. "I sat there with her and taught her the scales and then how to hold her hands over the keys.

"I told her how I'd learned to play when I was 4 because my new mother could play and I thought that she would be pleased if I showed an interest in the piano and maybe then I'd get to stay. Ana wrapped her hands around my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. Then she said, "Christian, you are so lovable." I was stunned. I tilted my head and rested it on top of her head.

"We just sat there together like that until I realized that she'd fallen asleep.

"I'd never talked much to my subs and certainly never shared details about my personal life. Heck, none of them even knew I had a family. 'Course, they were only interested, for the most part, in the playroom and what little goodies they could wheedle out of me. I considered it my duty as their Dom to take care of them and see to their basic needs. I gifted all of them with the safest cars, health benefits, wardrobes, spa days, sometimes even apartments. I spent thousands on jewelry and other gifts. When our contracts ended, I often funded their educations. I put one of my ex-subs through med school.

"But Ana wasn't interested in things. I told her that as my submissive, she was expected to gratefully accept whatever I wanted to give her. I sold her death trap of a car right out from under her, forcing her to accept the new one…which, by the way, I rarely allowed her to drive, preferring that she be driven by my security. I insisted she take the computer and the phone because she needed to be reliably available to me at all times. She very reluctantly agreed that for the term of our contract she would agree to the loan of said items. She didn't want the spa days because she said that she was capable of washing her own hair and asked me to justify, JUSTIFY, the expense of a wardrobe that she didn't need because she could buy her own clothes much cheaper at Target and because while she was with me, we wouldn't be leaving the apartment and she'd be naked most of the time so I certainly couldn't say that I wanted her to be nicely dressed for me!

"I was astounded and appalled by her gall and her unfortunate logic. I shouldn't have had to explain myself to her but I found that I enjoyed our verbal jousting so much that I'd egg her on just for the fun of it. I told myself that I was setting a very bad precedent but…what the heck…when she was gone, the next sub would want anything she could get just like they always had.

"And I was surprised by the unease I felt at the idea of her being gone."

"Anyway, after we'd been sitting there quietly on the piano bench for a while, I realized that Ana was asleep. I picked her up and, without thinking, I just carried her to bed."

"Your bed," guessed Flynn.

"Yes, my bed. I figured that since she slept like the dead, I could put her on her side with her back to me and she wouldn't touch me in her sleep. Again, I didn't expect to sleep but again, I woke up to sunshine on my face, curled around Ana with my lips on her forehead. One of her hands was resting against my side while the other was lying against my chest. I lay there frozen, waiting for the burn, the pain, the panic. My mind was screaming, "Don't hurt her, don't hurt her!" Then I realized that I wasn't moving to get away. I was comfortable and calm. The only overwhelming urge I felt was to divest myself of my morning wood but that would involve waking Ana and then she wouldn't be cuddled against me, breathing softly. And I really liked that.

"During breakfast on Sunday, I was really conflicted. Ana was still sleeping and knowing that she would be getting up and leaving soon and it would be 5 days before I saw her again was making me anxious. Before her it had been a year since I'd kept a sub for more than a couple of weeks before I got bored and needed something novel. Now three weeks in and I was in thrall to a woman who wasn't even satisfying my basic sub needs. I didn't know what was going on with me. I didn't even want to consider that I needed her.

"When she came out to say goodbye, I ordered her into my study.

"I went into Dom mode. She was supposed to stand with her eyes down but as usual she failed at even that simple sub task. She sat in a chair, without permission, and gazed up at me with her blue eyes bewildered. I told her that she was not fulfilling her end of the contract satisfactorily, not putting in enough hours in the playroom and, therefore, she would have to start staying over more days of the week. I was trying to hide my feelings from both of us but the moment I saw the first tear fall, I caved. I was down on my knees, my mouth on her's and kissing her like my life depended on it. I confessed that I was lying and that I was really desperate to keep her with me because 2 nights a week was not enough. I asked her to consider to agreeing to more time.

"She hesitated and she was shaking badly. She said that she knew that she wasn't doing her job well enough and the contract wasn't fair to me and that she would try harder if I would just give her a chance. She didn't seem to realize that I was on my knees begging her to not leave me. Cur that I am, I took advantage of her confusion and demanded that she move into my apartment full-time and she simply nodded….. obediently. I didn't even know if that was what she wanted but it didn't matter because I got what I wanted and I'd somehow managed it without her understanding my weakness when it came to her. I was very pleased. I'd won".

"Wait, I'm confused as well," said Flynn. "What did Ana mean about not doing her "job" well enough? This contract was consensual, as I understand it. Either one of you was able to break it at any time. Why did she call it a job?"

Flynn narrowed his eyes at Christian. Something wasn't right here.

"Christian? Being a submissive is a choice, right? Not a job. Christian, what aren't you telling me?"

Flynn saw a color in Grey's cheeks that he'd never seen except when Christian was angry…red. And Flynn knew that Christian wasn't angry; he was ashamed. When had Grey ever been ashamed? Not that he didn't have plenty to be embarrassed about, Flynn thought, but he kept that opinion to himself. It wasn't his place to judge his patient's lifestyle.

The room was deathly quiet. Flynn instinctively felt that Christian needed to confess to something but was actually afraid of Flynn's reaction. He'd never in 6 years given Flynn the impression that he valued his opinion all that much. He figured that he paid his shrink to fix his nightmare problem and did not expect Flynn to caste aspersions on his life choices. No matter that Flynn had, indeed, very strong feelings about Grey's lifestyle and some of the company he kept. He kept those feelings to himself. So this, this shame, was confounding.

The minutes dragged by. Christian remained silent. Flynn tapped his pen against his chin and never took his eyes off his patient. Finally, he spoke firmly, yet soothingly. "Christian, what did you do"?

Christian started to rise from the sofa, an attempt to escape.

"Sit down, Christian," Flynn ordered, "we are not finished".

Grey slowly eased himself back down, rubbing his eyes with his hands, looking pale and, well, caught. He clearly did not want to play true confessions with his shrink and he didn't know why he wasn't running for the door. His big mouth. He hadn't meant to let on, to repeat Ana's words. It hurt like hell to remember them. He just hurt her and hurt her because he was so damned selfish and always had to get what he wanted so matter the cost to anyone else.

Well, that might have worked in business but his beautiful, sweet Anastasia wasn't a business deal. He'd just treated her like one…to his everlasting shame. He didn't deserve to have her back.

He just needed to have her back. So badly. God, he needed her back.

Telling Flynn the truth felt like penance. That, not Flynn's command, is what made him sit back down. He had never cared before if Flynn condemned him, if anyone condemned him, but now he wanted someone to denounce him as a total, worthless piece of shit. Maybe if he got a beat down, he'd feel like he'd been paid back even a little of what he was due.

All the pain the pimp had put him through was just what he had coming to him for what he'd be doing to Ana in the future.

But no, he knew, the guilt wouldn't ease, not really. Nothing would ever be payback enough for forcing a lovely creature like Ana to be his whore.

ANA

He hadn't found her. He wouldn't. After living with Security for so long, Ana knew how it worked and how to get around it. She knew all the tricks. She'd thought at first of leaving the city, the country even, but she didn't have the resources. Besides, she knew her way around Seattle and it was easier to hide from Christian in plain sight. She could spot a city surveillance camera a block away and she knew the blind spots. She almost laughed at the idea of Carl and his crew going blind after spending hours going through tapes, hunting for small brunette young women. She knew how to avoid being tracked…no receipts, no Atms, no credit cards and no paper or digital financials of any kind. She'd left behind her phone and her laptop…the things she'd never wanted anyway. No internet, even at the library.

The hardest part had been getting out of the penthouse unnoticed. She'd had to wait until Christian was in New York. If she'd tried to leave him at night, he'd have had a nightmare, woken up and gone looking for her. Within minutes, he'd have had Taylor checking the monitors and she needed to get blocks away from Escala before that happened. Thus, she'd have to wait until after he phoned Gail upon landing in New York. She knew the minute the Grey jet touched down on the tarmac, he'd be calling.

He'd wanted her to go with him and she'd acted enthusiastic about staying at the Plaza, moonlit carriage rides through Central Park, Broadway plays and dinners at the finest dining establishments in all of New York City. When she feigned illness at the last minute, he'd almost decided to cancel the trip, business deal be damned. His sincere concern for her made her feel guilty but she was determined. She convinced him that she just wanted to suffer alone. Who wants company when you're vomiting?

She pretended that she was asleep when he called to have Gail to look in on her. Then she left the phone in the nightstand drawer, turned off her laptop and pulled her small bag from under the bed. It was midnight in Seattle. Taylor and Gail would be sound asleep. Christian wouldn't call until at least 7 am to have Gail check on her. Since it was 3 am in New York, she had 4 hours to get far away.

Ana knew her way around the security office. She knew how to disable the alarm system and all the cameras and slip down the back stairs. By 7 am she'd be miles away. She didn't know quite where "away" would be but she wasn't as simple as they thought she was; she'd figure it out. She would have planned better but she was watched constantly. Christian called it protection. She'd have to be careful for a while, she knew, but she was sure that eventually he'd get over being bested by his pet. He'd get a new sub, certainly a better one, and he'd move on. Then she, too, could truly move on.

She was wrong about one thing, tho', she knew. While she could escape Christian Grey, her heart couldn't.

It had been a week since she'd left Escala. She'd learned to find food in dumpsters behind restaurants. Perfectly edible foodstuffs were thrown out every night. She wasn't the only one hunting through those dumpsters but, surprisingly, her fellow foodies were willing to share. She didn't have the appetite most of them did so they didn't feel threatened. She was also smart enough to know that she needed to eat protein so she was no competition for desserts and breads.

She knew that she was losing weight and she was a small woman to begin with so any weight loss would weaken her but there wasn't much she could do about it. She slept wherever she could, following the example of her fellow homeless. They didn't trust the shelters and neither did she. Firstly, it was one of the places that Taylor would have his eyes on and, secondly, shelters weren't safe. She'd heard the stories of the dangers therein. She'd nap during the day in nooks and crannies in parks and behind buildings. At night she would hide behind the dumpsters after eating. She dreamed of two things: Gail's cooking and Christian.

The second week she moved on to new territory. She couldn't chance anyone getting to know her. She was sure that Taylor would have connections on the street and that people would want whatever reward Christian had offered for any young dark haired woman. Her blue eyes would also give her away so she kept her head down and didn't look at anyone directly. Twice men had tried to grab her. She didn't know if they intended to harm her or turn her in but she'd managed to use the self-defense skills her father had taught her to get away. Twice was too many possibilities that the men were Taylor's, however, so she moved deeper into the underbelly of the city.

More dumpsters, more abandoned buildings, more dangers.

She grew weaker and thinner and dirtier as the weeks went by. She thought of those wonderful showers at the penthouse. She never thought she would miss water pressure. But she didn't like the playroom. She didn't like being tied up with rope or secured to the four-poster and spread-eagled with handcuffs. She didn't like being exposed like that for Grey's viewing pleasure. He'd tell her how beautiful she was as he pushed her legs apart and ordered her to be still so that he could touch her. He told her how he loved to hear her scream his name when he made her come. She couldn't help that; her body just reacted. He knew how to make it happen and he was good at it. He took pleasure in his abilities, his control over her. He didn't seem to understand that she wasn't giving herself to him; that she only felt used and humiliated. He probably didn't care as long as he could claim her multiple orgasms and feel all manly.

She was also, unwillingly, drawn to him. Outside of the playroom, he was different and confusing. He seemed to be stern and angry but then he'd smile at her shyly and watch her as if he was trying to understand something. She didn't like being watched but it wasn't in a threatening way so what, she wondered, was he thinking? Alone with Gail she'd find herself relaxing a bit, talking a little and laughing. Then she'd look up to see Christian leaning against the foyer doors, tie loosened, hands in his pockets, watching her with those inscrutable gray eyes.

She would try to remember the rules. How was she supposed to behave again? She'd always forget. She knew that she was there to please him but she'd forget everything she'd read in the contract as she got lost in those eyes. After a while she learned that he liked it when she greeted him with a smile and he seemed to enjoy talking with her. He wanted to listen and hear about her day. She'd tell him about going to the grocery with Gail and learning to cook. Though he'd made it clear that he didn't like wasting food, he only seemed amused when he'd learn of yet another of her failed attempts ending up in the bin. She thought that he and Gail were just too picky. After all, she'd cooked all the time for her dad and he seemed to appreciate it. Those people and their lush life in their sky-high tower expected only the finest cuisine, she scoffed.

All the while they were laughing and talking over dinner, she'd be quaking inside, waiting for his command…"I want you in the playroom in five minutes". Sometimes tho', the command didn't come. Instead, he'd join her in a board game or they'd talk about his day. His days were long and intense. She asked him once why he did something that seemed to make him unhappy and he got up and strode without comment into his study. Then she was afraid again. She seemed to always be saying the wrong thing.

Then there were the unexpected things he did..sweet things, kind things. Like the time she woke to feel him carrying her to bed after a playroom session. Or the night he gave her a piano lesson. That night he'd told her about why he'd learned to play so well..because he was afraid his adoptive parents would make him leave if he wasn't a good boy. She'd felt so close to him that night and she'd hugged his arm, the only place she knew was okay to touch him and she fell asleep next to him, feeling safe with him. When she woke in the middle of the night, she realized that she was in bed with him, in his bed, and he had his arms around her.

She had to admit that she liked sleeping with Christian. She didn't want to like it…but she did.

After that night everything between them changed. He wanted her to sleep with him. She wasn't allowed her own space anymore. Part of her liked sleeping with him but part of her felt ever more trapped. He told her than he slept better with her next to him. And she did feel sorry for him. He'd have terrible nightmares and she'd try to comfort him. She'd draw her fingers through his hair and sing softly to him and he'd quickly calm down. He stopped forcing her into the playroom as much and his temper was better. But after that third weekend, everything changed again.

He demanded that she move into the penthouse full-time. She wouldn't be allowed her week days to herself anymore. He'd be taking her to work in the morning and the car would be waiting for her at the end of the day. He needed more playroom time, he said. She had a vague memory that he was being kind to her at some point but all she heard through the pounding in her head were more demands and less time to call her own. She was barely holding it together as it was. When she'd arrive back at her apartment Sunday afternoon and could finally let her guard down, she was exhausted. She'd collapse, go without dinner and sleep until morning. Now that down time was gone.

Her editing job was stressful, too. She enjoyed the work but there was a lot of it and her boss was either yelling at her or leering over her, breathing on her. It seemed that there was always a man to placate or please and she struggled to manage both. All week she'd been taking manuscripts home, eating take out, editing 'till late and then sleeping until it started all over again. Friday afternoon, she'd only have time to get home, shower, pack her small bag and drive another of Grey's 'gifts' over to the penthouse. She missed her old car. It had been her's, her very own car, given to her by her beloved father. But it was gone now…a deathtrap, Christian called it. He'd sold it to a collector and deposited the money in her account. She'd never touched the money and she certainly couldn't do so now that she was on the run.

And so, as commanded, at the beginning of the 4th week, Escala became "home".

But living with Christian wasn't all bad. He made her laugh sometimes and his mood seemed to improve more each day. Despite his reasoning that she needed to move in because she didn't spend enough time in the playroom, he actually didn't push for more. They mostly had what he called vanilla sex and a lot of it. Not that she had much to compare him to but he seemed to be an excellent lover. She found that she looked forward to the sex even. He taught her how to give him blowjobs and while at first she found the idea of having his penis in her mouth disgusting, she began to enjoy the power over him that it gave her. She was in complete control, something she had so little of, and she began to find it pleasurable to be the one giving orgasms. She loved the look of awe and bliss on his face, the way he screamed her name. Then she learned to sit on top of him, again the pace and rhythm under her control. At first she felt silly and embarrassed bouncing around with her breasts flopping about but she soon relaxed and realized that to him it was an incredible turn on. And, again, she was in charge.

Yes, she had to admit. She loved having sex with Christian Grey. It was diverting and it helped to relieve some of the tension she felt constantly…because she was still a prisoner.

She was on the porch of her daddy's house, down a dusty back lane, tucked away from the world. As she rocked in the chair that he'd built for her, she watched the wild flowers she'd potted in buckets as they swayed in the gentle breeze. Far from the highway and city noises, she could hear the birds talking amongst themselves. Her book sat in her lap and an ice tea rested on the little wicker table next to her. How, she smiled to herself, did people live any other way?

Her father was her world. With him she was protected from all evils, content with life. She could hear the distant buzz from his carpentry workshop out back. It was getting late and she needed to get his dinner on. She knew that she wasn't much of a cook but he ate it all up, wiped his mouth with his napkin, rose from the table and kissed her on the top of her head. He didn't ever say much but his love for her was everything and she knew it.

She was the offspring of another man, one of the many her mother preferred to her husband, and Ray knew that. Still, she was his daughter, a precious gift for which he would be forever indebted to her mother. Carla had rarely been home and Ray had done everything for Ana. He'd seen her through sickness and nightmares, taught her how to tie her shoes and how to read.

Carla had taken her from Ray when Ana was 5 but Ana never forgot her daddy and prayed every day that she could go home. Life with Mom was hard and the men she kept marrying were even harder. There were black eyes and broken bones but one day, as if in a dream, her daddy was there to take her home. She was 9 and she was safe again.

Her dad taught her self-defense moves and self-respect. Even when she saw schoolmates being greeted with hugs from their moms after school, she felt not a twinge of envy. She'd never had that anyway and Ray was there to pick her in his arms, swing her around and ask if his Ana banana had had a good day. He'd sit with her at night, helping her with the math that always confounded her and tell her that her talent lay elsewhere. "Ana," he'd say, "you have a gift for the written word." They didn't have television, so many a night, after washing up together, she'd read to him. He seemed to love the sound of her voice.

It was so good to be home again.

"Hey, hey you! Get up! You can't sleep here!" Ana startled from her dream and looked up at the beefy man standing over her. She immediately remembered herself and looked down again but it was too late. He'd seen her pale face and her brilliant blue eyes. It was enough to stop his tirade. Ana struggled to her feet and tried to stand but she wasn't quite able. As she began to crumble back against the wall, the man reached out and steadied her. When she tried to walk away, he held onto her.

"You know," he said, more softly now, "the truck will be coming by in an hour to empty the dumpster. You could get caught up in the forks and hurt."

"Yes, of course," Ana acknowledged, "I'll get out of the way. Sorry".

The man saw her ragged clothes, her thin body. He could see that she was in a bad way. He normally had little sympathy for the bums who loitered around the back of his diner but this was just a girl….a girl with eyes like his beloved late mother.

"Are you a runaway"? he asked. Ana looked terrified and the man concluded that if she was, indeed, a runaway, she had good reason.

"Come inside. Let's get some decent food into you." He released her arm, held open the door and motioned for her to go inside. Ana hesitated, fearful of his intentions, but he seemed nice and she was close to fainting from hunger. If she did faint, he'd call the EMTs who would take her to a hospital and she knew that Taylor would surely have the hospitals watched. So, cautiously, she made her way inside.

The diner smelled a lot like the dumpster but it didn't bother her. The odors meant food. The man didn't ask her name but told her that his was Mac and this was his place. He asked her if she liked hamburgers and fries. He didn't tell her that it was after hours and that he would have to fire up the grill just for her. He had a feeling that she would insist that a cold sandwich was just fine and he knew that wasn't true.

Gosh, she thought, a burger, fries and a cherry coke…heaven. It was the first non-dumpster meal she'd had in 4 weeks. At least, she thought it was 4 weeks. She couldn't be sure anymore. She didn't have to avoid stuffing down her food like a pig; she was too weak to eat fast and she knew if she did, she'd just throw it up again. Mac put a glass of ice cold milk in front of her.. "You need to drink that," he ordered. This time she didn't mind being given an order by a man.

"You can't go back outside to sleep," he said. "I don't know how long you've been on your own out there but this is not the best area. There's a room through that door", he pointed off to the left. "There's a lock on the door and a bed. It isn't much but it's safe. Restroom is over there." He flipped on the light switches and said goodnight. Then he was gone out the back door to his car.

He'd left Ana alone with a bed and his trust that she wouldn't betray his.

CHRISTIAN

Grey couldn't look at Flynn. He kept his eyes on the floor. How could he tell him how he'd come to "acquire" Anastasia Rose Steele. How he'd wanted her from the first moment he saw her. How he'd had Welch hunt down every detail of her life until he found his way in. And mostly, how could he tell Flynn that he'd used the most vulnerable part of her to get her into his life and his playroom?

As time ticked by with Grey frozen to the couch, Flynn recalled one their first conversations about BDSM.

"Most of my contracts were ended by me when I lost interest or the sub became too attached. True, a couple left disappointed and angry because I wouldn't give them "more" but most were okay.

I had no trouble finding new subs because I had a reputation as a good Dom…generous, fair and satisfying. A lot of Doms really get off on using the cane and the whip. Many of them won't accept a sub with limits and I don't know of any others who insist on written contracts outlining the expectations of both parties. I've also been told by my subs that cars and other gifts are not expected by subs. They are in it because that is how they like their sex lives. They show up, get beaten and fucked and go home. It was amusing the looks I'd get at first when I offered contracts, choices, safe words and monetary rewards. Eventually, word got out in the BDSM world that being my sub was profitable and I was inundated with offers. Elena, of course, cleared anyone who came to me. I'd just call her and she'd send over what I needed."

"Why," puzzled Flynn, "did you offer all these extras?"

"I'm a businessman, Flynn, Contracts are in my blood. I need to know and I need my partners to know exactly what is expected."

"Yes, I understand that you particularly wanted your subs to understand your hardest limit…no touching but why the rest of it? You didn't need to offer sleeping accommodations, cars, gifts, hundred of thousands in education, for goodness sake. You call yourself a heartless monster yet you took care of these women. You were exceptionally kind to them. That is not what a bad man does, Christian. That is what a good man does. Do you understand? If not because you are a good man, what else would have been your motivation?"

Flynn bent down to try to get eye to eye with Grey who'd gone down again.

"Christian, try to answer me, please.

After several minutes of studying Flynn's carpeting, Grey mumbled one word. "Guilt," he said.

Guilt had been the ruling emotion in Grey's life. He expected much of himself and thought that others did as well.

And, yet, in his mind, he'd failed over and over again.

He hadn't been able to protect his crack whore mother from her brutal pimp, the one who gifted him with kicks and punches and cigarette burns. She'd died because he wasn't good enough to keep her warm and alive on the kitchen floor. He tried but his little worn blanket wasn't enough and he was too weak from hunger to hold her tight enough. Then he wasn't strong enough to keep the men from lifting him up and away from her.

In the bright, white place where they took him, he fought to keep the ladies from touching him but they stuck him with a needle. The pimp had never done that and it was yet another new pain to endure.

He never saw his mother again. He waited for her to come for him. Even when she left him alone in the apartment, he knew she'd come back eventually. But this time she didn't.

He couldn't stand the sadness, the loss. Anger was easier to feel. Even tho' life got better after she was gone, he held on to his mother the only way he could…by hating her.

He'd told Flynn about the nightmares. He had to. They'd gotten so bad and so persistent over the years that they were becoming unbearable and preventing him from functioning as well as he had to in order to build his company. So he finally sought out a new shrink, tho' without much actual hope that yet another therapist could help. In telling him about the dreams, he'd also had to tell him about the first four years of his life. He'd been born into hell.

He hadn't even shared much of his story with his adoptive parents, Grace and Carrick Grey. Of course, waking them every night with his night terrors certainly clued them into his demons. He often wondered how his siblings, Elliot and Mia, managed to sleep through his screams. Maybe they didn't? They never said anything.

He loved his family and yet held himself aloof from them. Sometimes he didn't see or even talk to them for weeks at a time. Then when he did agree to show up to a family dinner, he said little, never smiled much, except for Mia, his baby sister. She usually seemed oblivious to his sulks, his aversion to hugs. He'd listen to her chatter on about clothes and parties and while he didn't get much of it, he found it somehow soothing…like white noise.

Elliot, his older brother, a big handsome jovial lug, would torment him with attention, jokes, jibes and never ending demands for hikes and bar hopping and ball games. Far more often than he wanted, Christian would give in to these demands tho' he couldn't understand why Elliot bothered with him when he was such poor company. Just like he couldn't understand why his father called him "Son" and smiled at him and told him that he was so proud of him or why his mother lit up like the 4th of July when he deigned to honor them with his gloomy presence at Sunday brunch.

He'd never been a good son no matter how much they loved him because they had to. Flynn tried to tell him that people don't love because they have to but because they want to. Well, Grey certainly thought that that was a crock.

His Ana.

He didn't love her because he wanted to. He'd tried hard to feel nothing for her but it was useless to fight it. He had to love her. He couldn't help himself. And how dare he even call it love! He was a selfish monster to want her so badly.

Flynn looked at his patient with a kind and sad expression. He wasn't surprised that Christian felt guilt nor that he thought that guilt was his motivating emotion in all his personal relationships. Guilt toward his family whom he felt he'd failed all his life. Guilt toward his subs who wanted everything he gave them, including whippings. Guilt toward his staff, esp. Gail and Taylor because they knew his dirty secret and yet took care of him and protected him. It didn't matter than he overpaid them, provided luxurious living quarters in his penthouse and treated them with respect. They had to live with a monster. That's how Grey saw it. Sometimes he even understood that they loved him and were devoted to him no matter their revulsion at his weekend activities. That just made it worse.

Christian had come to him, leaving in the middle of a work day, because he was so at sea without Ana and yet as they entered their second hour together, he was becoming more withdrawn. Flynn knew that this was always an issue during their sessions. Christian needed to talk yet the talking brought up the pain and the pain made him turn into himself and shut down. It wasn't an unusual reaction from a patient but like everything else he did, Christian did withdrawal exceptionally well. Flynn had gradually learned that changing direction was the way to get Christian back on track. He also thought now that the best way to get Christian's attention was through Ana.

"Christian, I know that you've obtained all your submissives from your former dominant, Elena Lincoln. Is that how you found Ana? From what you've told me about her, she doesn't seem like someone of whom Elena would approve."

"I've told you over and over that I'm a monster, Flynn, and you never believe me. Maybe now you will," Christian snarled.

"All right. Convince me," smiled Flynn. This should be interesting, he thought.

Christian drew a deep, ragged breath. It hurt to relive his shame. Still, it pleased him to talk about Ana at all, just to say her name soothed him.

"Ana. Her full name is Anastasia Steele. Anastasia Rose Steele. As enchanting as her name. I met her at her graduation ceremony at WSU. I was invited to speak. I loathe those things but my presence brings in big donors and big donors help further the agriculture projects being worked on at the University. Those projects hold out hope for ways to improve soil and crop development in poor countries. As you are aware, keeping people fed is of major importance to me."

Grey then actually chuckled a little as he blatantly eyed Flynn's bulk. Flynn replied to his look by noting that his beloved wife, Rhian, said that she was initially drawn to him because he looked like a big teddy bear. He didn't go on to reveal that Rhiian had, as the years wore on, urged him to eat healthier because she wanted him around as long as possible.

"Go on, Christian. Quit dodging," scolded Flynn.

"The worst part about these graduation ceremonies is standing around handing out hundred of diplomas and shaking hands. The girls are the worst. This pretty face draws them like bears to honey hives and often with the same aggression. They palm bits of paper with their names and phone numbers. Some of them actually detail what they're willing to do for me should I desire their company in bed. I leave with my pockets stuffed with notes that I dump into garbage bins as soon as I am able to do so discretely.

So, there I am, strained smile on my face, really paying no attention to the names and faces passing by when I hand over a diploma and there is no hand grabbing mine for a shake. I look up into the bluest eyes I've ever seen in a pale face with a shy smile. She very softly thanked me and said that she had enjoyed my speech and admired my work and she was gone as the next graduate almost pushed her aside to grab my hand and tell me how honored he would be to work for GEH.

I tried to catch sight of where she'd gone but couldn't find her.

I had to stay thru the rest of the alphabet, cursing the volume of surnames beginning with W, until I could begin my search for her".

Christian stopped speaking, looking furious as if he were still enduring that long wait. Flynn waited, sighed, and then said the magic words.

"Anastasia Rose is a very pretty name. While you weren't paying attention to the "A"s through "S"s, how did you happen to catch her last name?"

"All I remembered was the first name and idling thinking that it was unusual and suddenly she was there and suddenly she was gone. I did remember that she was wearing the tassel of an honor student so I quizzed the dean and he instantly knew to whom I was referring to when I said "Anastasia". He broke into this big grin and said, and I quote, "yes, the delectable Miss Steele. If I was 20 years younger and single, I'd..well..let's just say that she has a body a man would kill for and a brain to go with that body". He was right about the "kill" part. I saw red and would have decked him right there if I hadn't needed him for more information. As it turned out, he didn't have much to offer anyway. He knew that she was a 4.5 GPA scholarship student with a double major in English Literature and Business, kept to herself and the library, and didn't notice all the boys on campus drooling over her."

"4.5 GPA! My, quite impressive. How did she manage that?"

"Well, since I dropped out of Harvard before my junior year, I had to look it up. Apparently if a student takes particularly difficult courses and aces them, the grades are weighted with that in mind. Upon doing further research I discovered that Ms. Steele had not only taken the regular required classes for her majors but had piled on as many more hours as possible in not only post-grad classes but doctoral classes as well. She did all that while working 30 hours a week to support herself as her scholarship paid only tuition. She was the only student to achieve a 4.5 GPA. And she did it all in three years with summers included."

Grey related all this information with a beaming smile on his face, his pride in Ana quite evident. Flynn couldn't help smiling as well but for Grey's admiration of Ana, not his own.

"Anyway, once I had that little bit of information it was no trouble to get Welch to dig up the rest."

"All completely legal, of course," smirked Flynn. He knew how Grey operated and Welch, too, for that matter. He himself had been thoroughly investigated before Christian came to him for therapy. He knew this because Christian had walked into his office that first day, thrown the complete folder on Flynn's desk and said that he had better be as good as he looked on paper.

"Mostly legal," answered Christian. "Of course, there were some financial details that required a bit of hacking. Turned out that she was going out into the world with $357.30 to her name. She was driving a 20 year old volkswagon beetle and she lived in a studio apartment in a rough part of town. Being the asshole that I am I wondered if I could use her vulnerability financially to my advantage".

"Wait…what about family?" asked Flynn. "Didn't she have anyone to help her?"

"A mother in Georgia…whom I later learned had been the source of much pain for Ana.

When Ana was 5, Carla was unto hubby #3, dragging her daughter along and through to husband #4 who got drunk a lot and liked to beat up on Ana. She was 7. Seven years old and this asshole was knocking her across rooms, sending her to school with broken arms and bruises and blackened eyes. Carla defended him, saying that Ana had a sharp tongue and didn't know when to just shut up. I later learned that much of the time Ana got beaten up because she was trying to protect her mother from the same treatment. Yet Carla lied to the hospital and the police and made Ana do the same. Social Services were suspicious but couldn't prove anything.

At this point, Christian's fury was such that he couldn't stay seated. He had to get up and began pacing furiously up and down the room. Hearing the story, Flynn was inclined to join him but he knew that he had to remain calm and professional no matter what. After all, throughout his career he'd had to listen to some horrendous tales of woe and without the ability to remain the steady force in the room and, he knew, the support of his Rhian, he might have quit long ago and taken up garbage collection as a career. And, so, he observed and he waited patiently for Christian to come back to the couch. After several minutes, he spoke…softly and kindly.

"Christian, please sit down. I'm curious as to how this story continues. Please."

Christian leaned his head against the wall and practiced the slow breathing technique he'd learned from Flynn. Then he straightened up and returned to the couch. Looking at the sofa arm and its tattered seam, he remarked that surely he paid enough in therapy fees for Flynn to afford decent furniture. Flynn almost laughed but caught himself and told Christian that he simply liked shabby chic decor.

"That's coincidental. Ana likes that stuff, too. She says it's warm and cozy. First time she walked off the elevator and got a look at my apartment, she wrapped her arms around herself. She said it all seemed so cold. 'Course, by time she got through with it, I was tripping over pillows and throws and couldn't set my Forbes down on the coffee table because it was already covered in books and knickknacks. I spent hundreds every month on huge floral arrangements for the entry table but Ana had cheap little vases with wildflowers scattered about. One day I found a bundle of dandelions displayed on the bathroom counter. According to Ana, dandelions are under appreciated".

Christian smiled and seemed to be gone for a minute.

"You were telling me about Ana's childhood. Sounds pretty grim and dangerous. How did she survive?" Flynn prompted.

Christian drew a deep breath and continued.

"When Ana was 9, her mother married #5 and moved Ana to Georgia. It is extremely hot and humid in that part of the country and Ana wasn't quick to adapt after life in the Pacific Northwest. She was sick a lot, unable to eat, fainting in school. So either because some part of her mothering instincts kicked in or, more likely, she was tired of having to deal with a sick kid, Carla called husband #2, Ray Steele, who lived in a little town outside of Portland, and asked him if he was still interested in raising Ana.

Throughout Ana's absence, throughout husbands #3,#4 and #5, Ray had tried to stay in touch with letters, cards, presents, phone calls but Carla had kept them all from Ana. Ana missed Ray and remembered him, even tho' she hadn't seen him since she was 5, because he was the only person in her life who'd ever been kind to her.

So, unaware that Carla was essentially giving her away, Ana opened her eyes one morning to find Ray sitting on her bed. She was so malnourished, dehydrated, and weak that Ray wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to the cab and took her to the emergency room. She was hospitalized for a few days while Ray sat by her bed all night to calm her nightmares. When she was well enough to fly, he contacted an old buddy from the Seals and arranged for a military flight to get her home. She slept for a week and as soon as she recovered, he put her in school. At the age of 9, she was finally safe and loved".

"Well," said Flynn, "that is quite a story, quite a life she was living. Am I wrong in hoping that it's been clear sailing since then?"

Christian groaned. "You forget, we haven't gotten to me yet".

"Oh, dear, I did forget that," Flynn grimaced.

Flynn really liked Christian Grey. After 6 years of trying to help him, he'd grown fond of him despite his attempts to maintain a professional distance. There was just something about the guy that made him pathetically lovable.

He was an incredibly handsome young man with a genius business mind and billions in net worth, much of which he gave away. Also, it kind of amused Flynn that Bill Gates hated him.

But still, Christian had the emotional maturity of a 15 year old boy, frozen in place thanks to Elena Lincoln and BDSM. In 6 years there had been minimal growth. That had changed in the last few months. Flynn hadn't known for sure why until today. He hadn't actually seen much of Christian for quite awhile and wondered if things were going well or rather very badly. Of course, he'd seen some tabloid accounts of Christian's love life but he didn't put much stock in that.

Christian's private life had always been off limits to the public and even his own family, again thanks to Elena Lincoln and BDSM. As far as the pubic knew, his only friend seemed to be Mrs. Lincoln. She was the only person, outside of family, with whom he was ever seen and those meetings were lunch in coffee shops usually. So when there appeared pictures of him with a young woman holding his hand and kissing him as she was dropped off for work at the small publishing company SIP, Flynn suspected that Christian had hired an actress to play a part for the press to get them off his back. He had even brought her to his mother's annual charity gala and made quite a show of being in love, even going so far as to bid $500,000 for her at the first dance auction. She was a lovely young woman, Flynn had thought, but it seemed so sudden and out of the blue that Flynn couldn't help but wonder about the authenticity of the relationship. Such an attachment would also appease his mother who nagged him relentlessly about bringing home a girlfriend. He could hardly introduce his subs to his parents.

Christian had often complained of this dilemma to Flynn and even laughingly mused aloud about hiring a girlfriend, so when Flynn saw Ana on Grey's arm, Flynn made his assumption. Now, of course, he realized how very badly he'd misread things. Maybe he should consider garbage collection.

"So, then, you met Ana at her graduation, had her investigated and hunted her down…." Flynn, said, summing up.

"Geez, Flynn, hunted her down? You make me sound like a predator." Christian actually looked hurt.

Flynn looked at him carefully. "Tell me I'm wrong, then".

Christian stopped pulling at the sofa seam and ran his hands through his hair. Flynn inwardly sighed. No, of course he wasn't wrong.

Christian, looking like a kid caught reading porn magazines while smoking behind the garden shed, looked up at Flynn and then down at the carpet again, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"Christian, I've known you for 6 years and I do not judge you."

"Kinda sounds judgy".

"Well, there's a difference between being judgmental and callin' 'em likes I sees 'em." teased Flynn. "Part of my job is to help clarify things for you and to tell you the truth as I see it. Tell me your truth then."

"I hadn't had a sub in months," Christian began, "and the last few hadn't lasted even 2 weeks each. They bored me. What used to excite me had become mind-numbingly predictable. Tie her to the cross, whip, flog, spank, fuck, blah, blah, blah. Making them come was easy, no challenge, usual response. I tried to invent more creative scenes. Even googled.

Elena encouraged me to go to the clubs. I'd watch for a few minutes and more boredom. She brought girls with few limits, no limits at all. I did things I'd never even been interested in before and found I still wasn't. So, I thought maybe I just need a break. You know, kind of like married people get so used to each other so they cheat? Except there was nothing for me to cheat on so I just told the last sub to go and I told Elena to stop digging up candidates. She wasn't happy and even offered to sub for me, rationalizing that she knew me so well that she knew how to make the experience interesting for me.

I declined. Frankly, Elena had long ago stopped having any appeal for me and the thought of sex with her was even repulsive. So, I just worked more. Instead of having a sub on the weekends, I made more deals; the tougher to seal, the better. I went after companies that Ros told me were impossible to get….but I got them. In just a few months, I almost doubled my holdings. Ros was exhausted because I was driving her as hard as I was driving myself. One day she threw a pile of papers of possible acquisitions right in my face, told me to fuck off and said she was going home to her wife while she still had a marriage. Twenty minutes later, Gwen called and again told me to fuck off and said that she and Ros were taking a 2 week vacation and turning off their phones. Then she said that if I wanted to keep Andrea, the best PA I'd ever had, I'd better give her some vacation, too.

I actually heard myself whimpering in a little voice, asking if Ros was ever coming back and Gwen said not if she had anything to say about it but probably because her wife knew I couldn't manage without her. Then she hung up on me. I realized that I wasn't handling my lack of sex well so I decided to just go home and try to beat the shit out of Bastille. On my way out I looked at Andrea and she looked positively gray so I told her to take paid time off and come back in a couple of weeks. She grabbed her purse and beat me to the elevator.

Well, I didn't beat the shit out of Bastille. He beat it out of me…along with a whole slew of insults to my manhood. I still needed a long run so 10 miles later I dragged poor Taylor back home and told him to take his wife and get lost for a week. Gail didn't want to leave me. Taylor had to practically carry her out of the place. Then I turned off my phones, locked the elevator and sat on the balcony for 2 hours just staring into space.

Ennui doesn't begin to describe my condition. I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. I don't think that I even had any urge for sex. I couldn't dredge up a single erotic image to jerk off to. My sex drive just dropped off the side of the balcony. I spent days eating takeout and watching TV.

Naturally, I couldn't sleep much unless I felt like waking up screaming. I played a lot of piano, perfecting some things I'd given up on years ago because I didn't have time to practice. Too busy being Master of the Universe and Dom Extraordinaire.

And I know what you're thinking…why didn't I call you? I did…in my head. I went through entire conversations with you and knew what you would say or thought I knew. Nothing you said in my head helped. Sorry."

"Oh, no offense taken," replied Flynn.

"Then, after about a week, I opened my laptop and found several hundred emails. The only one that caught my eye was a reminder that I'd promised to speak at the WSU commencement. That weekend. In 2 days. Oh, lord, did I want to blow that off. But somewhere way down deep in that dried up peach pit I use for a heart I thought of all the donors who wouldn't give a god damn dime to the ag projects if I didn't show up to "encourage" them and those projects are vital for millions of hungry people, so….I wrote a speech, I took a shower and shaved, packed a bag, made a hotel reservation all by myself like a big boy and called to have Charlie Tango ready to go.

I came. I saw. And you're right. I set out to conquer little Miss Anastasia Rose Steele.

ANA

The girl hadn't emerged from the back room all day. The door was locked still so Mac knew she hadn't left but considering the condition she'd been in last night, he worried that she was unconscious or worse. It was time to lock up and he couldn't leave without knowing so he softly knocked on the door. If she didn't answer, he was going to have to force his way in.

He waited a moment and then called out, "Miss, are you all right?" To his relief, he heard a small voice answer that she would be right out.

Mac hadn't yet turned off the cooker. He knew she'd be hungry. So he started to heat up some mac and cheese. He hoped she'd like it; who didn't like mac and cheese?

He heard the lock open and turned to say hello. She appeared even smaller than he remembered. She'd apparently washed up in the restroom last night. Her brown hair was clean but with the dirt off her face, he was disturbed to see that she was more pallid that he remembered. Those blue eyes, tho'…they were still stunning. She leaned for a moment on the doorway and tried to smile at him.

"It was so kind of you to let me stay here last night and I'm sorry that I slept all day. I'd like to repay you by cleaning the kitchen and sweeping up before I go. Would that be okay"?

"You can barely stand much less do manual labor. You can repay me by sitting down and eating", replied Mac. "Do you like mac and cheese? I make a mean mac and cheese and I'd consider it an insult to my cooking skills if you refuse," he teased. This remark brought on a real smile from the girl and Mac felt his heart flip a little. She was really a sweet little thing. What kind of bastard would force her into a life on the street?, he wondered.

"Come on. Sit down. Would you like another cherry coke? If you promise to drink some milk, you can have a cherry coke, too".

"I love mac and cheese! Thank you," beamed the girl as she sat at the counter. Mac brought the entire bowl over so she could serve herself as much as she wanted. Then he set down a glass of milk and another of cherry coke next to the bowl.

"Do you like to spoon or fork it"? he laughed.

She grabbed the spoon and dug in with gusto. She felt better tonight and didn't fear throwing it all up by eating too fast. It pleased Mac tremendously to watch her happily eating. It seemed to bring color to her face. But he had to know. Who's little girl was she? So, fearful of her reaction, he tried to appear casual as he asked her name. "So, you can call me Mac. What should I call you?"

She hesitated for moment and then said, "Rose".

"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Rose," smiled Mac. "May I ask you a more personal question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he reassured her. "I only ask because you seem to be in trouble and I'd like to help, if you'll let me."

She stopped eating for a moment, considering what he'd said. He seemed so very nice and he'd already helped her. She felt stronger than she had in some time. Still….

"I'm not in trouble, not really. I'm just trying to manage on my own. I'm not running from the law, if that's what you're worried about." Ana didn't want him thinking that he was haboring a fugitive.

Mac laughed. She was just a mite and had the face of an angel. Running from the law, indeed. Still, he knew that she was running. He was feeling quite paternal. This little girl needed someone to protect her. Mac had married young and his wife had died young. His broken heart had never repaired itself and he'd never let anyone else in. He ran his diner, went home to no one, drank a few beers to help him sleep and than started all over again. Rose was the first person in 20 years to make him care about someone else.

"Well, I figured you for a pretty desperate outlaw but I'll take your word that you're not wanted," he grinned. Little Rose sure had a way of making him feel like smiling.

"Now, the way I see it you have nowhere to live and you're starving. So, I'd like to make you an offer."

Ana looked at him suspiciously and eyed the back door. She wondered if she could make a run for it before he grabbed her. Nope. Okay, she thought. Let him make his "offer" while I figure a way out. It was probably time to go further underground. "I'm listening," she said, stuffing her mouth with mac and cheese as fast as she could to make do until an uncertain next meal. She quickly drank her milk and waited for his offer. The last offer she'd been made had nearly ruined her even if it did come with a handsome billionaire and a penthouse apartment.

"Okay, Rose. You need a place to sleep safely, right? I need some help here in the diner. I had a waitress but she just didn't show up one night. I was about to advertise but the job is your's, if you want it. We can fix up the old apartment upstairs. It's kind of dingy and small but it has a kitchenette and a decent bathroom. You can fix it up a bit and you'll be warm and dry at night. I can only pay you minimum wage but I've no doubt that you'll do well in tips."

"I've never been a waitress," Ana confessed, "and I'm kind of clumsy, too. Also, I'll be honest with you. I don't want to be found. I don't want a paper trail, if you get my drift."

"Well, that's your business. I'll pay you in cash. The IRS isn't going to come lurking around a rundown diner in a bad part of town. This isn't the Mile High Club," Mac chuckled. He noticed a dark cloud suddenly settling in Rose's eyes. What was that about?

He quickly spoke again. "You could give it a try. If you feel that you have to run again, I won't stop you. You can be anonymous here and I'll make sure that no one bothers you, okay? Do we have a deal?"

He really wanted Rose to stay and it was true that he needed the help. The last waitress was a druggie and insulted the customers when she wasn't offering them her "services" after hours, sometimes during hours, he grimaced. Rose, on the other hand, would really class up the joint.

"My clothes are filthy, like me. Handling food would probably invite a visit from the health department and your customers would be afraid to eat here," Rose said.

"Well, I'll give you an advance so you can go to the second hand shop down the street tomorrow. Just pick up a simple outfit like a shirt and dark skirt. Comfortable shoes, too. Then we'll fix up the apartment after hours. I'll get some bedding and towels, soap and things like that.

You'll have a home up there for as long as you want it and nobody around here will know anything about you except that you're a waitress named Rose. Can't get more anonymous than that, can you"? Mac asked. "You finish up that mac and cheese and get some more rest. You can let me have your answer in the morning. I won't push you anymore, okay?"

Mac got up, put the empty bowl in the sink and bid Rose goodnight as he locked up. He prayed that she'd still be there in the morning.

Ana washed the dishes and wiped down the counter. She picked up a serving tray and placed dishes on it, wanting to see if she could carry it across the room without dropping it. She'd broken glasses and plates regularly at home. Home, what was she thinking? The penthouse wasn't her home; it was her prison. She put down the tray safely and thought maybe she could do this. She could be settled, for a while at least. Maybe long enough to set aside a bit of money, regain her strength and wait for Christian to give up looking for her.

But what if she was recognized? What if one of Taylor's sources heard of a young blue-eyed brunette working at Mac's diner? It was a pretty public job. Maybe she could cut her hair?

No, no….daddy had always loved her hair. He called it her crowning glory and he liked to braid it for her before school. Even if he wasn't alive to see it anymore, she felt like cutting it off would remove her one step further from him.

Then there was the problem of her eyes. How would she disguise them? Maybe she could buy a pair of glasses with tinted lenses so the blue wouldn't stand out so much. Yes, she could do that and wrap her hair up under a scarf. Besides, it would keep hairs from falling in the food, she grinned to herself. Yes, that just might work.

Okay, she decided. The thought of going back out into the ugly world she'd been hiding in was too much to bear. She needed a rest. She needed a refuge until she was ready to face reality again. She also had grown to trust Mac. She instinctively felt that he was a good man and meant her no harm. She would just have to keep herself from trusting him too much. Her father was the only man she'd ever been able to trust completely.

Suddenly a wave of grief overwhelmed her. She fell to her knees, her chest heaving with sobs. She curled into a ball on the floor of the diner and cried until she had nothing left. Then she laid there, dazed, staring into the emptiness. She wondered why she was even trying to survive. There was no reason, it seemed, to keep going but she could hear her father's last words to her before he fell into the final coma…" Do your best to live a good life," he whispered as his eyes closed for the last time.

Two hours later they turned off the machines and he was gone. They let her sit with him for a while until his hand turned so, so cold and Christian picked her up in his arms and cradled her close to him as they left the hospital.

Christian had arranged everything for the funeral and burial. He wouldn't leave her side as she wandered like a zombie through the next few days. He spoke gently to her but she didn't hear. She spent day after day sitting and staring into space as Christian begged her to eat, to drink. She slept because Grace sedated her. When she finally broke, Christian held her and rocked her and told her that she wasn't alone and that he would always take care of her.

"You are so precious to me, Ana. You're everything," he breathed into her hair. And she hated him.

CHRISTIAN

"I knew her weak spot," he revealed to Flynn. "She was smart. She could take care of herself. She'd gotten a decent job as a junior editor at a small publishing house and was supporting herself. She had a small apartment and a wreck of a car. She was independent.

From my investigation into her character, I knew that material things meant little to her and my wealth wouldn't impress her in the least. Maybe if I'd been a decent guy, she'd have given me the time of day….. but I'm not a decent guy".

Flynn sighed. He didn't even try to say otherwise. He'd told Christian a hundred times over the years and pointed out the truth of his character over and over but Christian preferred to believe Elena Lincoln and the pimp. Flynn had run out of ideas on how to contend with the brainwashing Grey had received from those two fiends. He'd consulted with the best psychologists in the field and even tried referring Christian to someone better but Grey refused. He'd been to them all and if Flynn couldn't cure his nightmares, why would someone else be able to? Besides, he actually liked Flynn and felt comfortable with him. Heck, hadn't Woody Allen been seeing the same shrink most of his life and been managing to function with his help?

Christian figured that he and Flynn could grow old together, bickering and insulting each other. It was an amusing idea.

"So," Flynn pushed, "we're back to my question. Why did Ana refer to her contract with you as a job? You've been avoiding answering me for more than an hour now. Spill before I toss you out that window you keep staring out. My ass is getting numb sitting here."

Christian shot him a look and remarked that Flynn's numb ass had more to do with the fact that he sat on it too much.

"Ha, ha. Spill, I said," demanded Flynn. He really was growing impatient. "What was Ana's weak spot, the one you were able to exploit."

"Her father," sighed Christian. "More specifically, her father's illness. An illness that required intensive and expensive treatment that neither Ana nor her father could afford."

Flynn groaned. "Oh, lord. I don't like where this is heading."

"Neither did Ana."

"First I bought the publishing house and became her boss. Then I called a meeting of all the editors and introduced myself to everyone. After the meeting, I asked Ana to have coffee with me under the pretense that she was a promising employee and I was interested in her future."

"Oh, very smooth, yeah. A woman with a GPA of 4.5 bought that, did she?"

"No. It was lame and we both knew it. Something about Ana made me stupid. In my defense, I'd never before pursued a woman. They'd always been delivered to my door. Ana didn't come with a user's manual and I was floundering. However, I was her new boss so she went along with it.

I took her to my club, thinking I'd impress her with my ownership of the Mile High, the best club in Seattle. Even as I was being kowtowed to by my minions, I knew what she was thinking. I could read her face. She was appalled at the way I was haughty toward everyone and she tried to make it up to them by being friendly and appreciative. I could tell that they loved her and hated me. Oh, yeah, I was looking real good.

I ordered the best house wine. She didn't know from wine and asked for tea.

I suggested dinner. She politely said that she'd had a big lunch and wasn't hungry. You know how I feel about people not eating. Besides, I already knew that she had worked through her lunch. I was getting angry now and it was starting to show. I could tell that she was intimidated and instead of realizing that that wasn't how I wanted her to feel, I made things worse. I informed her that she would eat and she would eat now. Without asking, I ordered her a steak, a vegetable and a salad.

If looks could slice, dice and broil, I would have been dinner. And with that my anger faded and was replaced with lust. At that moment, I'd never wanted a woman more. It took restraint I didn't even know I possessed to keep from lunging for her mouth. I just stared at her, speechless.

After the hotness stare-down in history, she suddenly smiled at me sweetly and said that since I'd asked her to coffee to discuss her future with the company, perhaps we could do that. I just started laughing. In the space of a few minutes, she'd embarrassed me, infuriated me, turned me into a puddle of want and amused the hell out of me. The self-possessed Christian Grey was helpless, confused and completely out of his element.

Ana was now angrier than a cornered badger. She stood up, picked up her ice water and appeared to be about to dump it on me. Then she stopped, drank it and said that she had to be going and if I wanted to speak with her further, or fire her, she'd be at her desk at 8:00 the following morning and good night, Mr. Grey.

Then she turned on her heel and walked away while I stared at her perky little behind as she entered the elevator.

It occurred to me that I had not enjoyed myself so much in memory. And I wanted her desperately.

"The next morning I decided that I'd approach her again and get right to the point. I had no illusion that I was going to win her over with my charm. So I went for the jugular. I called her and ordered her to come to my office at GEH.

I could see that she was not impressed by my building or my army of gorgeous blond assistants or my huge office or the view from my wall of windows. And I knew that the thing that she was least impressed with was me. Even I wondered what the hell I was doing as she stared at me impassively with those killer blue eyes. This woman was no more sub material than you."

Flynn had to laugh at that. "I'm hurt that you never even considered asking, Christian. I've certainly been more than accommodating all these years and Rhian thinks I'm cute."

"Rhian thinks that you need to lose 70 lbs. instead of dying young and leaving her alone with 3 children.

That's what Rhian thinks."

"Okay, enough. Go on".

"Ana said that I could have had her immediate supervisor fire her. He'd have loved it. So why had I dragged her across town. Was I planning to enjoy it that much? Then she stood up to leave…again! I shouted at her to stop walking out on me and that I had no intention of ending her employment with Grey Publishing. She was quite good at her job and was a valued employee.

"She gaped at me, rubbed her eyes and glared at me, both tired and exasperated. It occurred to me that she might not have slept all night, worried that she was, indeed, about to lose her job. Then she sighed and asked me what then did I want?

And I just caved and said, "You. I want you, Anastasia Rose Steele. You….Very much.

"Please have dinner with me. Please."

"You said please?" marveled Flynn.

"I know…and it came as easily as breathing. I amazed even myself."

"She seemed stunned.

Then she said, "Mr. Grey, I don't know if it's escaped your attention but you are considered the Prince of Seattle. You are the youngest self-made billionaire on the planet. You are lusted after by most every heterosexual woman within fainting distance. You are rather attractive and could have anyone you desired without the slightest effort on your part.

I am, on the other hand, a mousy junior editor just out of school who has no money and am completely lacking in style and sophistication while you are surrounded by beautiful blondes who drool as you walk by.

As far as I can tell, the attraction for you must be based solely on my unavailability. Once I succumb to your will, you will be satisfied and ready to move on. I would like to help you out with this momentary infatuation but I have too much self-respect to just drop my panties at your feet. You have a reputation for getting what you want but you are not getting me.

Now, either fire me or dismiss me so that I can get back to my work. My supervisor is already difficult to deal with and furious that I seem to have captured the attention which he thinks that he himself deserves. I have an author whom I want to sign and it is already quite frustrating to try to promote him without my boss refusing to listen because he is a misogynist who loathes me. "

"God, Flynn, I was so turned on that I had to sit down to hide the reaction in my pants. I asked her once again to have dinner with me as I had a proposition for her that I believed would be of utmost importance to her and that it had nothing to do with her professional position. I also promised to see that her author would be given every consideration by our editorial staff despite her boss's objection. That her pet project would be given a hearing got her attention."

"He is a very good writer and should be given a chance. I think that he could have a best seller and thus be good for the company. Are you sincere in your offer? Will you read his book?", she asked.

"I will. I promise to be objective and give him a hearing based on his own talents and not my interest in you. Now, will you agree to an evening with me?" I practically pleaded.

"You said that you wanted to discuss something that has nothing to do with my work. Can you give me a hint as to the subject because I do not wish to discuss a relationship with you?"

"So I fudged a bit and said that it was personal but went beyond my interest in her. She seemed intrigued and reluctantly agreed to our date. I was elated and trying so hard to not show her how excited I was. I insisted on picking her up although she wanted to drive that bucket of rust. I didn't want her to escape again."

"You wanted your prey trapped."

"You're being judgmental again."

"Calls 'em likes I sees 'em"

ANA

I had been waitressing at Mac's diner for 2 weeks and I liked it. I was sleeping in a cozy bed at night in my own little place. I'd scrubbed the apartment 'till it shone. I hung curtains and put down a couple of area rugs. Mac was so impressed that he bought paint and supplies and that really made the place shine. There was an empty lot nearby where I could pick wildflowers and I planted them in empty coffee cans. When I was satisfied with my place, I started in on the diner. Mac was bemused by my affection for dandelions but they were plentiful and I soon had little vases on every table. One day I came down the stairs to find that Mac had purchased blue checkered table cloths.

After Mac closed at night, I had nothing to do. I didn't have a TV and I couldn't take books out of the library without registering for a card so I spent my time cleaning the diner. Mac had never left it a mess but it was dated and dingy so I scrubbed the floors till they gleamed along with the kitchen and the restroom. Since the majority of our customers were men doing construction work or driving trucks, they were rough sorts with bad aim. It took quite a while to clean the bathroom. When they saw how bright and shiny it now was, they took extra care and it didn't need as much scrubbing thereafter. Then Mac decided to use the extra paint to spruce up the walls of the diner. Within a couple of weeks, it looked like a brand new place. He was very pleased with the results and with me.

The only time he scowled was when I off-handedly suggested that now that the apartment was so nice that he could rent it out for extra income when I was gone. It was clear to me that he felt happy with me around. I hadn't destroyed too many dishes, the customers seemed to like me and I was getting good tips which made me feel good about myself. I was working independently, being valuable, bringing in more business. I told Mac that I should pay utilities and rent but he vehemently refused, saying that I had made the place livable and turned the diner into a charming little place that was now making him more money. I had, he insisted, more than paid my way.

Each week he'd hand me an envelope with cash and I'd put it in a jar in my kitchen cabinet. No bank accounts, no records to track. Since I ate the diner food for free and had few expenses, my saving were growing and I started to think of what my next move should be. I didn't visualize my future as a diner waitress and I'd really loved my job as a book editor although I didn't know how I could possibly go back to a job that Taylor could track. I think Mac understood that I'd have to go sometime but resisted the idea. I told him that when I did, I would not consider our friendship ended but hoped to always stay in touch. That placated him somewhat but I'd come to realize that he was a lonely man who felt protective of me.

He was surprised to find that I was not a teen runaway but a grown woman. I shared some of my history with him; my father's death and it's devastating effect on me, my lack of other family, my lack of friends and my painful breakup with my boyfriend. Mac was angry about the boyfriend and assumed that it was all "John's" fault. I found myself defending John. I told Mac that he was a good guy who took care of me but that I felt suffocated. Why I was on the street was harder to explain. I just said John was very possessive and wouldn't let go easily so I knew that I would have to disappear until he got over me.

Mac gave me a long look and asked, "Why do you think that this guy is going to get over you…ever? Why do you think that he will ever stop looking for you? There's something that you're not telling me. Did this guy hurt you, Rose? I found you behind my dumpster. You're afraid of him, aren't you?"

His question stopped me in my tracks. No, I wasn't afraid of Christian. He only wanted to take care of me.

"No, Mac, I'm not afraid of him at all. He treated me with love and I love him. He'd never raise his hand to me. He is a good man. I wish I could explain it to you but I have trouble understanding it myself. I think that we were just together for the wrong reasons."

I left with him staring after me. I was always good at walking away…something Christian hated. Because he couldn't walk away from me.

It had been almost 2 months and I wondered if he'd quit looking yet. He filled my dreams every night and I wanted so badly to see him. Getting away was not working. My feelings were still mixed up and sad and angry and putting distance between us was not making things clearer. Would anything ever again make sense to me? Damn that man.

CHRISTIAN

When I arrived that night at Ana's, I was shocked to see her neighborhood with my own eyes. Men wandered around aimlessly. One of them approached the car, knocked on my window and offered me a selection of drugs. When I declined, he offered me the woman standing next to him. Only one of the street lights worked and graffiti covered the walls. There at the curb was parked that ancient car that Ana, according to Welch, called Wanda.

I'd never named any of the cars in my fleet…not even my R8. Who names a car?

A rough-looking man leaned against the wall next to Ana's door. How the hell did she ever get in and out of her home safely? I thought of the night that she'd left me at the Mile High Club and that perky little ass driving home in the deathtrap and walking through all this to her apartment. No more. Somehow tonight I'd keep her at Escala.

My Mercedes was drawing enough attention but when I stepped out in my $4000 dollar suit, the tough lounging against Ana's building stood up and stared at me like a great white eyeing his next meal. I rushed past him into the entry way where I found someone sleeping on the stairs a few steps from # 2, Ana's door. When I knocked, she opened the door immediately. My temper flared in alarm at her carelessness.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You didn't even ask who was at your door. I could have been that gangster standing by your entryway or the drunk sleeping on the stairs."

"Oh, Larry? He's the landlord. He's just guarding his property. He hangs out there most evenings. The guy sleeping on the stairs is just my neighbor in #1, across the hall." She laughed affectionately. "He almost never makes it to his door. He'll wake up by the time I get home and tell me wild stories about his evening whilst I tuck him in. I think he's schizophrenic. He can't afford the medication he needs so he self-medicates with alcohol. He's besties with Prince Harry, you know"…she winks, smiling.

"I'm gaping at her…too stunned to get my thoughts together." She looked at me, concerned. "Are you all right? You look a little strange. Maybe you should sit down for a bit."

At this point, I plopped down on her couch and looked around while she got me a glass of water. Her home was cozy and charming and clean. There were pictures on the wall of Ana and an older man whom I took to be her father. Books were stacked on every surface and manuscripts lay about. I lay odds hers was the only livable apartment in the building.

She handed me a glass. It was the kind of glass you got after you finished eating all the jelly. Fred Flintstone grinned back at me as I gulped down the water. As I came back to my senses, I felt my anger taking over again.

"The tattooed biker type with the cigarette hanging off his lip and the deadly glare on his face is your landlord and you tuck the mental case next door into bed at night," I growled. She laughed at me.

Laughed!

"They're harmless really and Larry actually keeps the wolves from the door. Goodness, Mr. Grey. One would think you never left your rarified world to see the rest of Seattle.

I'm one of the denizens of this slum, you know. Aren't you afraid of getting cooties from me?" she continued laughing.

Those ocean blue eyes, that bright smiling face, that shimmering hair. I set Fred Flintstone on the counter and swept her into my arms, my mouth covering hers and kissed her with a passion that I'd never before felt…didn't know existed. It was like I'd never touched a woman's lips till hers. And, actually, I'd only rarely kissed one of my subs.

I was like a fumbling teenager desperately groping his first crush and not really knowing what he was doing. It was just pure need and desire. I didn't even know if I was doing it right and I was just holding on to her and drowning in her. I kissed her until I ran out of breath and then I stood with my forehead leaning against hers, gasping for air, one hand in her hair holding her face close to mine and my other hand tight against her back, holding her as close as possible.

Did she want me to kiss her? Was she going to push me away or slap me or whack me with Fred Flintstone? I wasn't in control. I was at her mercy. In that moment I would have done just about anything she asked. Have a ciggie with Larry, put the crazy drunk to bed, anything except let her go. Instead I heard myself mumbling about dinner and was she hungry.

Before she could even answer, I kissed her again, less urgently this time but with no less need. Then I finally pulled back a bit and just looked at her. She was dazed and breathless. I was terrified that I'd really crossed the line. I'd gone on about the dangerous types living around her yet I was the one attacking her in her own home.

She backed away from me, looking at me in wonder, and then she said, "Well, now you've caught my cooties." I could have died for her just then. Instead, I helped her on with her coat and escorted her out the door and down the stairs. As we past the dozing drunk, Ana leaned down and touched his face and put her fingers on the side of his neck. She said that she was just checking to be sure that he was okay. Then she gently stroked his hair, saying, "Schizophrenia is a terrible curse."

As we left the building, she asked Larry how he was feeling tonight. He smiled at her, the tough guy look gone, and said, "Don't even start on me about the cigarettes, Ana." Then he glared at me.

"This guy okay with you?" he asked. "He looks kinda slick to me." Ana reassured Larry that I was harmless. Boy, did she get that wrong.

As we approached the car, she stopped and noticed the drug dealing pimp. Geez, were they buddies of her's, too? She left my side and walked quickly toward the guy and his girl. She said something to the pimp that left him with his head hanging. He nodded a couple of times, took something that Ana handed to him and then grabbed his girl and walked away. Larry just shook his head.

After Ana got into the car, I asked her what happened. She just shrugged. "He's very poor. Now, at least for tonight, he can go home and not have to sell drugs or his girlfriend. Some people, you know, just don't know how to get on in life."

"I knew she'd given him money when she didn't have much herself. Suddenly, I very much wanted to take care of this girl and I stupidly knew of only one way to do it.

ANA

The dreams were beginning to drive her nuts. Christian, Christian, Christian…why couldn't he leave her alone? She worked hard every day from dawn until hours after closing time. Mac told her every night as he locked up to go up to her apartment and get some rest. He worried that she ate little of breakfast…how was a slice of bacon, one pancake and some juice enough to get her through the morning rush? She wouldn't take breaks and he'd physically force her to sit in the kitchen and eat at least a sandwich and milk for lunch. She'd down what he put in front of her in 2 minutes and then she was off again, working the lunch and dinner crowd. And a crowd it was. Since he'd hired Rose, Mac's diner was the place to eat, it seemed.

The diners were mostly men, all of them nuts about her. Most of them treated her with respect and the few who made passes at her were tossed out and permitted to return only after offering sincere apologies. She learned every name, admired some wedding rings if necessary and even insisted on patching up those who came in with the lacerations expected to come with rough jobs. She'd wash the cuts and apply antibiotics ointment which Mac was now obliged to keep behind the counter along with bandages. When a guy would get all macho and insist that it was just a scratch, he'd get a lecture on the dangers of infections. There would always be at least one fellow per lunch break who needed nursing and Mac suspected that some of those injuries were self-inflicted. There was a line-up at the restroom for hand washing at Rose's insistence and foul language was frowned upon.

She learned everyone's preferred meal choice and, to Mac's delight, urged every one to drink milk.

Thanks to Rose's memory, Mac could have meals ready and on the table the moment the guys walked in the door. The tip jar was overflowing every day and Rose would insist that Mac deserved half of its contents. Mac felt that those tips belonged to Rose so when she was elsewhere he would sneak into her apartment and stuff the bills into the jar she kept in the kitchen cabinet. God help him, he chuckled to himself, if she ever figured it out. He seen her temper in action a couple of times and knew sweet Rose could give someone hell if she felt the need. Like the guy who pinched her butt. Before anyone could react, she turned on him, asked him to stand up and then kneed him in the groin, leaving him curled on the floor yelping in pain.

People just carried on eating, paying him no mind. Rose put his dinner in the warmer and when he finally struggled back to his feet and sat down, she brought over his dinner. And, yeah, he tipped her 20%. Word got around their rough and tumble neighborhood that between Mac and Rose, the diner was a clean and respectable restaurant where patrons were expected to behave like ladies and gentlemen.

More women started coming in, no longer fearing harassment or a filthy restroom. Business was so good that Mac had to hire a part-time cook. He wanted to hire another waitress but Rose was territorial, he found. These were her people and she would take care of them. He knew better than to argue.

Still he worried. She tried to hide her weariness but he knew that she was tired. He tried to find out what was driving her but she would just say that she liked to keep busy. He feared that keeping busy kept her from dwelling on "John". He feared also that she wasn't sleeping well. He knew that after he locked up that she would find some work to be done around the place. He also discovered one night that she was rescuing the leftovers before they made it into the dumpster and taking them around the neighborhood at night to give to the people she found hiding in all the places she used to hide in. That explained why the homeless no longer loitered around his back door, which pleased him. That his little Rose was traveling around in the dark making deliveries did not. He knew no one would hurt her and that they watched out for her but he still worried. Again he knew better than to argue with her but he did find himself making sure that there were more leftovers than there used to be.

Ana would work herself into exhaustion in the hope of dreamless nights. Still, every night there he was, calling to her. Sometimes he was having a nightmare and there was no one there to calm him.

Sometimes he was just standing at the elevator doors, waiting but no one came. She didn't know, of course, that her nights were mirroring his.

Nightmares about Ana being in trouble, being hurt. Falling asleep at the piano because he couldn't lie in the bed without her. Endlessly cursing himself for all the pain he'd caused her.

Ana was awake, sitting at her window, thinking of Christian while Christian was awake, staring out at the Seattle lights, thinking of Ana.

CHRISTIAN

The proposition that Christian had for Ana was too delicate to offer in public. He found her to be completely unpredictable. She might dump her dinner in his lap or on his head. And then, for certain, she would walk out on him again. He decided to have the Mile High cater a candle lit dinner on his terrace. Yes, that would be impressive, wouldn't it? Wouldn't that make her more amenable to his offer? He had to be sure to make the offer in terms that eased its crassness because, in fact, it was crass. He had told her quite plainly that he wanted her. He had more than shown her his desire for her. She had seemed to respond to his kiss. Perhaps there was reason to hope that she would want what he was offering, at least enough to try.

And he could lock the elevator, too.

As he was explaining this to Flynn, his doctor was looking at him as if he had gone mad. Well, maybe he had. This desperation, this pursuit of this woman was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He couldn't understand it. He just knew in his "heart" that he had to have Ana or he'd never have another woman in his lifetime. He'd felt so wildly out of control.

He glared at Flynn, wordlessly demanding clarification, but Flynn just looked bewildered. It seemed that even his shrink was too baffled to adequately explain Grey's state of mind. The only thing he could come up with seemed impossible, given Grey's track record. Perhaps Ana's observation, made the night of their almost dinner at the Mile High Club, was correct. Grey wanted her because he couldn't have her and that was a definite first in his life. It was, truly, the only thing that made sense for the man that Flynn knew. Because, obviously, Grey couldn't have her…or, rather, he couldn't keep her. She had flown the coop and quite successfully at that.

"I surmise that you made a deal with this young woman. You offered to her the finest medical care possible for her father in exchange for her submissiveness to you. Let me spank you, tie you up, hang you from the ceiling, beat you with various implements and engage in rough sex with you and I will give you the chance to save your father's life. Does that about sum it up"? sneered Flynn.

Grey had the decency to look deeply ashamed. It was by far the most ruthless deal he'd ever made in his almost 7 years of ruthless deal making and he had brought many a mogul to his knees. This time the deal wasn't about acquiring a manufacturing plant and the mogul wasn't a wealthy man with a legal team to protect him. The deal was about a young woman and the only family she had in all the world. And Grey wasn't taking over a building and equipment; he was taking over the body, mind and soul of an innocent who had no one to speak for her.

Withholding judgement, behaving professionally, was almost impossible for Flynn. Abhorrent behavior like this was one of the reasons that Flynn had never wanted to deal with criminals. And now here he was 6 years deep into a relationship with a monster. He had, he concluded, failed profoundly in his attempts to rescue Christian Grey from his demons and the evil influence of Elena Lincoln. Speaking of whom…

"I'm curious. What did your villainous mentor, Mrs. Lincoln, think of all this? After all, she's always gloried in her control over you and felt herself to be in charge of your sub choices"? Christian was well aware of Flynn's feelings about Elena and no longer even bothered to argue with him. He had to laugh, however, at Flynn's question.

"I hadn't informed Elena about my latest sub. She found out by accident when she barged in uninvited to find Ana and I playing scrabble after dinner. It was after I'd moved Ana into the penthouse permanently. It was a Monday evening and usually I would have been working in my study. Elena had been calling and I'd been ignoring her voicemails. She was insisting that I needed a new sub and that she had several suitable candidates for me to interview.

When I didn't respond, she decided that she'd just show up unannounced with a couple of girls.

When she walked in, Ana had just gone back into our bedroom to find a pair of warm socks so Elena didn't know that I had "company". She saw the scrabble board and her expression was priceless. Gail was puttering around in the kitchen so Elena jumped to the conclusion that my housekeeper and I were playing a game together. She was appalled, she said, that I had sunk so low as to fill my time playing board games with the help," laughed Christian.

"Of course, Gail and I had fun with that for a while. Gail made a show of checking her tiles for her next move while Elena stood there in shock. Then being Elena, she imperiously ordered Gail "back to her station". Gail ignored her and put down the word "cat".

While Elena was still standing there with her mouth hanging open, Ana slid back in across the marble floor in her socks, arms flying in the air, bouncing off the counter and singing "I'm flying"..like Peter Pan. I just laid back on the floor laughing my guts out.

Then Ana and Elena and the two subs just stood there staring at each other. Ana is naturally kind and polite so she walked right up to our visitors and put out her hand to welcome them. Elena gave her the "gum stuck to my shoe" look and the subs kept their heads down. Ana looked at me confused and I said, "Ana, meet Mrs. Robinson and two of her proteges".

Now, I'd told Ana about Elena and her seduction of me and my BDSM history. As far as Ana is concerned, I was molested by a pedophile. She referred to her as Mrs. Robinson, you know, the older woman from the movie, The Graduate? Well, Ana's warm, sweet demeanor did a U turn and she asked Gail to hand her a broom so that she could sweep the dirt out the door. If I hadn't intervened, I'm pretty sure that Elena would have found herself being swept into the elevator", laughed Christian.

"I tried to make courteous introductions and Ana gaped at me. She stood up on her tiptoes and got right into my face and asked if Ireally thought that she wanted to be introduced to a pedophile? Then she turned on her little stocking feet and marched off around the corner to our bedroom with her lush brown hair flying behind her. It took every ounce of what little self-control I had left to stop myself from running after her like a puppy. She was so hot and, god, I wanted to play.

Once Ana disappeared, I was able to tear my eyes away and look back to Elena, her mouth agape in horror. She demanded to know "what the hell was that thing and where does it think it is going?" I snickered that that "thing" was my girlfriend, Anastasia, and that she was going to our bedroom, probably to plot the demise of one or the both of us.

I told Elena that she should call first and that I wasn't interested in interviewing new subs at this time and goodnight. She huffed that she and I needed to have a serious conversation very soon and then stalked out, with her stiff bottle blond poof, tight black leather dress and sky-high heels clacking across my floors.

I texted Taylor to immediately change the elevator codes which were not to be shared with Mrs. Lincoln.

Flynn silently cheered.

"It was wonderful. I think I laughed the rest of the night although Ana was not at all amused. I was told to immediately change the elevator codes so that Elena could no longer strut in as if she owned the place. I just said, "Done, dear". Truth to tell, Elena does appear to think that she owns me. She's forever telling me that she made me the man I am today. She's referring, of course, to my social and financial status. I don't think she's taking credit for the emotional mess that I am.

It's funny. My little sub had just broken about every rule possible, insulted my guest in my home, told me off in front of said guests and staff and ordered me about. I mean, Flynn, she out-Domed me! Yet, that night I fucked her feeling like a master of the universe. I'd never felt such passion for a woman and all I wanted was to give her orgasm after orgasm and listen to her scream my name.

Later, finally exhausted, I laid there with Ana's head on my chest, plotting how to make her mad at me again because I fucking loved this thing called make-up sex."

Grey had the biggest grin on his face…..until Flynn interrupted his reverie.

"I'd like to go back to that night on the terrace when you proposed that Ana exchange herself for her father's medical treatment", demanded Flynn. "I would like to have been a fly on the wall when you made that sales pitch. Did she try to toss you off the terrace"?

ANA

As she finished tidying up her tiny apartment above the diner, Ana did a mental checklist of her nightly duties. She'd cleaned the diner, delivered leftovers to the homeless, washed her meager wardrobe and taken her bank out of the cabinet and counted her savings. There was more than she thought there should be and she suspected that Mac was giving her all of the tips. She'd been trying to think of something that she could do to repay him for all he'd given her. He kept insisting that she'd given him so much more but it didn't seem like that to her. She'd been thinking that she ought to find a good waitress to replace her when the time for her leave-taking inevitably came. She'd been with Mac for several weeks and although her scarf and tinted glasses had kept her disguised pretty well, she was getting nervous. The place was getting busier all the time and people were getting to know her. The regulars were bringing in new people and telling them that "Rose" was the reason for the restaurant's popularity. While it wasn't likely that patrons of the Mile High Club would hear about Mac's, there were the occasional "slummers" and Mac's mac and cheese was getting to be famous. Christian loved mac and cheese. What if he somehow heard…ok, yeah, that did seem crazy, she smiled to herself.

She pulled on the oversized t-shirt that she'd taken from Christian's drawer when she left. It was long overdue for a washing but she didn't want to lose his scent. She laughed to herself, thinking that if she didn't wash it soon, she'd start to believe that Christian's scent was less tantalizing than it was pungent.

She crawled out onto the fire escape and stared up at the stars. The alley below, filled with trashcans, dumpsters, litter, junker cars and wandering drunks wasn't quite the same as the view from the penthouse. That view was stunning just like the man who looked out at it. She thought back to the first night she sat on that terrace and felt the awe of it all. And not just the city but the beautiful man who smiled at her from the other side of the table. He'd told her that he wanted her. He'd kissed her with a passion that ignited new overwhelming feelings in her body. She knew so little about sex but she'd made up her mind and her heart that if he asked her to stay with him that night that she would.

And then he opened his mouth and began to speak and she felt herself become sick and dizzy and terrified.

He told her that he knew about Ray's illness and that her world, her father, needed the kind of medical care that was completely beyond her reach. With the treatment, he might stand a chance of living many more years. Without it, he wouldn't live another 3 months. This, of course, she already knew…but how did Christian? She had been living like a pauper, trying to buy the medicines and pay the bills, but it would never be enough. She'd sold anything she had of value, anything Ray had of value. Everyday she choked back the terror of losing her daddy. Somehow she got through her workdays as tho' she was fine but her nights were either no sleep or sleep filled with nightmares. She spent all her free time sitting by Ray's bedside, trying to help him through the pain. There were medications that were stronger than the pain but too costly for her to afford.

This night with Christian was one night she was allowing herself to forget but instead it turned into its own kind of nightmare.

His proposition was unbelievable, heinous, crushing and impossible to decline. He made her sign a non-disclosure agreement tho' she really had no one to talk to about anything. There had been a couple of nice people at school who seemed to want her friendship. They'd asked her to join them for bar nights but she couldn't spend money on drinks. A couple of boys had asked her for dates but she had sold most of her nice clothes to thrift stores and besides, they wanted to go out on Saturday nights when she had to be with Ray. She was carrying a heavy academic load in the hopes of graduating early and then securing a good paying job and she was working 30 hours a week in order to pay for living and medical expenses. She rarely slept more than 3 hours a night and she ate very little. She was coping only because she was young and was used to working quite hard. By the time she graduated, she was at the end of her rope. She had little strength left and had slept through the R's at graduation, waking only when a couple of the S's had nudged her to move. She had a vague memory of Christian Grey giving a speech about his feed the world program and she was able to walk across the stage, get her diploma and mutter something appropriate but she had immediately gone home to sleep before her night shift started.

Thankfully, she was hired on at the publishing company within days of graduation at a salary decent enough to pay her expenses, allow her to buy a few work clothes and give her more time to spend with Ray. Then Christian Grey dropped into her life again and now he was making her an offer that she knew she couldn't refuse. Prostitute herself and maybe save her father's life.

Ana listened in stunned silence as Christian described for her what her "arrangement" with him would be. She concluded that she had misunderstood when he said that he wanted her and that the kisses she believed to be passion were only lust, nothing deeper. She couldn't have known. She'd kissed a couple of boys in high school but she'd never had sex so she didn't know how things were supposed to feel. She wished that she had a girlfriend to talk with about such things but it was too late now.

Christian told her that he practiced a sexual lifestyle called BDSM and he showed her a room where he would take women to do things that he found pleasurable, he said. He told her that she could find pleasure in that room as well but that was hard to believe. There were ropes and handcuffs and whips. He told her that he wanted to spank her. She knew what that felt like. Her mother's husbands #3 and #4 had liked to spank her and punch her and backhand her across her face. She had to go to school with black eyes and bruises and welts and broken bones in casts. It was embarrassing so she began to deliberately fall down a lot and pretended to walk into doors and walls so people would think that she was clumsy. Her mother never tried to protect her and blamed her instead. When she'd awoken that stifling morning in Georgia and found Ray sitting on her bed, she thought it was a dream until he picked her up in his strong arms and told her that he was taking her home and that she would thereafter always be safe. And she had been. Until now.

In exchange for being what he called a submissive, Grey would transfer Ray to the best hospital in Seattle and the best room in that hospital. He would bring in the very best doctors and private nurses. No expense would be spared for medicines and treatments. Ray wouldn't feel pain anymore. And if all went well, he would live.

If she could live through#3 and #4 when she was only a little girl, she could live through floggers and canes and rough sex now that she was an adult. Anything for her daddy, she thought.

Christian told her that she had to sleep in a room in his home from 8 on Friday night to 1 on Sunday afternoon. Thus, Ana figured that she could spend a couple of hours with Ray after work on Friday and all afternoon and night on Sunday. Then Christian told her that he liked to work a few hours Saturday afternoons and that she could spend that time with Ray as well.

He gave her a contract to sign and said that she could delete a few things that she really didn't want to do. She didn't know what most of the things were so she had to borrow his laptop to google the lot. The pictures of women twisted into horrible positions and tied up so they couldn't move were terrifying. Then she looked up "fisting" and nearly threw up. She didn't want to be hung from a ceiling either because she feared that her arms would pop out of their sockets. #3 had burned her with boiling water once and she had a couple of cigarette burns so she couldn't imagine that having hot wax applied to her would feel any better. There were, in fact, so many things that she was scared to death of and although Christian had told her that everything was negotiable, she was deeply afraid that if she objected to too many things that he wouldn't help her father; that he wouldn't want her because she was too much trouble.

With great trepidation, she approached him and told him that she didn't want to be burned because she knew how bad that hurt. To her surprise, he turned quite pale. He crossed hot wax and oils off the list. Then he crossed off fisting and hanging from ceilings. Then he just took the contract from her and threw it into the waste basket. She thought that he was calling off their deal and she couldn't help herself. She began to cry. She had made a mess of things. She had thrown away her father's chance. She shook and cried and then felt Christian's arms around her. He was begging for her forgiveness. He would never ask her for anything she couldn't handle, he said. If there was anything she didn't like, she should tell him and it was off the list. Then he asked if he could take her to bed and she said yes. He picked her up and carried her into his bedroom.

She was trembling as he slowly undressed her, kissing her gently with every piece of clothing he removed, telling her that she was breathtakingly beautiful, that he'd never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her, that she shouldn't be afraid and that he would make certain that she felt good. The only light was coming from the window so he couldn't see her scars. She didn't try to touch him. She just remained quiet and compliant. When she was naked, he lifted her unto the bed and then began to undress himself. He was so handsome that she calmed just looking at him…. until he dropped his pants. She'd never seen a penis in real life. Its length and girth were frightening. She understood beatings but this was entirely different…and she braced herself for a new kind of pain. She had no choice but to endure. She involuntarily whimpered in fear and shut her eyes tight.

He shushed her and told her that he was just going to love her, not hurt her. But he did…hurt her. She stayed quiet and didn't let on. He kept saying lovely things to her and then her name over and over until he called it out loud and gasped as he collapsed on her. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck and her hair, telling her that her scent was heavenly and her skin so soft. Finally he rolled off her and then grasped her back to his front and held her firmly and tenderly, planting kisses on her back and her head. She was amazed. She'd never known such peace.

CHRISTIAN

'I don't know what the hell I was thinking." said Grey.

"I knew her history. I knew how her mother's husbands had abused her and here I was asking her to agree to the same treatment. I threw out the contract. It wasn't necessary. As long as I took care of her father, she would stay with me. And I figured that I could very gradually train her to enjoy some of the playroom activities. After all, who doesn't love a great orgasm?"

"Well, can't disagree with that," smirked Flynn. "So, you simply made love to her that first night?"

"I didn't consider it as such. It was more of a gentle fuck. A kind of welcome to my world thing, you know? I thought it went pretty well even tho' she was very quiet and sort of just laid there. I figured that she was just nervous and I knew that she was nowhere near as experienced as my usual subs so it would take a while for her to relax. She fell asleep instantly so I let her stay in my bed that first night. I thought that I would sleep an hour or two and then get up to play piano as usual. But I woke to sun shining in my window. It was almost 9 am! I was astonished. And no nightmares. Then I felt something wet. I thought I'd spilled the condom but when I looked closer, I realized that the wetness was blood. Ana was, had been, a virgin!

No wonder she was so fearful and confused. My god! I felt like the biggest shit on the planet. She'd stiffened and bitten her lip at one point but all I was thinking about was myself and I paid no attention. She felt so good that all I thought about was me. I didn't even give a thought to her pleasure.

She was still sleeping so I pulled a chair up to the bed and just watched her for signs of I don't know what. Pain. Bad dreams. I wondered if she felt raped. I buried my face in my hands and then I heard a little sigh. I looked up and she was smiling at me!

I asked her how she felt and she said good, that she hadn't slept so well in ages. I was baffled. Why, I asked her, hadn't she told me that she'd never had sex. She looked troubled. She asked if she'd done something wrong…that she didn't know that she was supposed to tell me or that it would have mattered to me had I known.

I felt…I don't know how to describe exactly how I felt but it sure wasn't good. I was actually disgusted with myself."

"Well", Flynn reminded him, "you do have a great deal of self-loathing. We've been dealing with that for years."

"But knowing that I can't be loved, or love, is one thing. This kind of self-loathing was a whole new level."

"Good grief, Flynn! She wasn't just a virgin. Her mother had never talked with her. She was so shy and so busy taking care of Ray that she didn't have close friends and in college she was too busy getting that 4.5 GPA and working that she never dated or make friends with other girls. She never had a soul to talk to, didn't go to movies or watch TV and read nothing but the classics…none of which apparently were D. . She barely knew that intercourse existed!

Everything she was learning about sex, she was learning from me! A Dom! It was so ironic, really, because everything I learned about sex, I learned from my Dom, Elena. We were both kind of like babes in the woods, very dark and evil woods.

I think that morning was the beginning of my real sex education, the kind with feelings, the kind without pain…I just didn't know it at the time. I was just kind of aware that I needed to know something more to deal with Ana but I didn't know what that something was.

And I just could not understand why I cared."

"Now I understand why Ana thought of her relationship with you as a job. She would entertain you sexually to the best of her ability and you would pay her in medical expenses for her father," remarked Flynn. "Did you realize that that was how she understood your relationship to be?"

Christian looked thoughtful for a bit. Twice he seemed ready to speak and then stopped. He furrowed his brow.

"I knew that I was slipping in and out of Dom mode with Ana. With my other subs, I stayed in Dom mode the whole weekend. With Ana, I didn't even stay in Dom mode while in the playroom. As I told you, we didn't spend regular amounts of time in the playroom and when we did go in, I did nothing that I thought would be remotely uncomfortable for her. She seemed to like being blindfolded while I tied her down very loosely and gently stimulated her skin with feathers and light flogging. That seemed to relax her and made it easier for her to come. Her feeling pleasure was all that mattered to me really. I came, too, of course. Just watching her come made me come.

But we spent less and less time in the playroom, esp. after she moved in permanently. Even tho' I'd told her that more playroom time was the reason for her living with me, she never questioned why we mostly had vanilla sex in the bed that I always referred to as ours.

As to what she was thinking….

I realize now that I rarely knew what she was thinking, esp. about us and our relationship. She would come back from her visits to her father and I would be in my study working and as she passed my door, I'd call her in and ask her how things had gone and she'd just reply, "fine", and I'd never push for more. She'd go to the library and settle herself in with a book. Sometimes I'd call her to the playroom and she'd just nod and do as she was told. Most times, I'd go looking for her and find her so engrossed in some musty old British classic that I'd just go play the piano or work some more.

I didn't think to ask for more information about Ray's condition because I received regular reports anyway."

"How did you, a non-relative, manage to get these "reports" on a patient's condition? How did you get around the HIPAA rules"?, queried Flynn.

Grey just looked at him with amusement in his eyes. "Have we just met"?

"Of course," sighed Flynn. Welch, Barney and lord knows how many other investigators were on Grey's payroll. What was he thinking?"

"But, Christian, did you ever ask her how she was feeling, what she was thinking about her father's health?"

"No."

"Did you ever ask her what she thought about your time together, about you?"

"We talked a lot, you know, about our work, how our days had gone. She tried to get me to talk about my childhood sometimes but I didn't encourage that. Didn't see the point. I had a whole file on her that Welch had compiled so I guess I figured that I knew everything about her.

Hmmm….sometimes I'd ask her if she was okay after sex…if she liked what we did"

"Okay," said Flynn, "but did you ever talk to her about her feelings about being, in effect, your sex slave?"

Grey's eyes blazed and he turned on Flynn with fury. "She was never my slave! What the fuck are you talking about? I treasure that woman!"

"Like you'd value a particularly priceless piece of art?" suggested Flynn. He'd certainly found a hot button.

"YES…WAIT! NO! You sneaky son of a bitch! I know what you're getting at! Anastasia was most definitely not a possession to me! She was a gift. She was wonderful and perfect and annoying and mine!

I lo… I lo…" Christian stopped, stunned as the revelation hit him. But still he didn't believe. It wasn't possible. Not for a monster like him.

"Try to say it out loud, Christian," encouraged Flynn. "I know what you're thinking but I can also easily see what you're feeling for that young woman you thought you'd trapped in your web. It was you who was trapped in a web, wasn't it?"

Christian had been pacing for some time as he tried to deal with his confusion. The turmoil in his head was overwhelming him. He needed simple questions with simple answers and fucking Flynn wanted him to delve deeper. Christian hated when Flynn pushed him like that and usually it was at this point that Grey threw something and walked out. Flynn would then get out his little brush and dust pan, clean up the debris and then organize his notes from the latest storm with Christian Grey. He also kept a cabinet full of inexpensive vases and silk flowers. He'd given up on live flowers in water years ago after Delores started refusing to do the moping up.

This time, however, Grey didn't walk out or destroy a vase. Instead, appearing as weary and defeated as Flynn had ever seen him, he collapsed on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

He spoke, very softly, whispered actually, as tho 'the words were scary as all hell.

"I love her. I love Ana. So much. And I've lost her and I don't know how to live anymore without her. I need her to be with me."

Flynn remained quiet. Although he'd suspected as much, it was still astonishing to hear Christian speak with such reverence for a woman. Except for his mother and his sister, he'd never acknowledged deep feelings for any woman, not even the ex-Dom he allowed so much influence in his life. Women were nothing more than objects to help relieve his tension. Flynn was himself lost for words. This was amazing information. 6 long years with this puzzle of a man and suddenly he was just a man miserably in love with a woman he couldn't have and not just because he couldn't have her. Christian Grey, heartless titan of industry, was enslaved to a woman.

Flynn, objective professional, had often felt like giving Christian a kick in the pants. He had never imagined himself wanting to get out of his chair to sit on the couch to try to comfort him but Christian's grief was so palpable, so wrenching….

Flynn did get out of his chair. He sat next to Christian and put his arm around him with a gentle squeeze.

"All is not lost, Christian. Don't give up. We'll try to figure this out, okay?"

Christian didn't even seem aware of the extraordinariness of this moment. He just nodded slowly, took a breath and raised his head. Flynn returned to his chair, feeling a depth of emotion for a patient that was completely unprofessional but he didn't care.

"What we have to do now, Christian, is figure out what went wrong, why Ana left and how to be ready for her return. Agreed?"

Christian was pale and his eyes moist but he smiled a bit. " I don't have a decade to waste."

There was a soft but insistent knock on the door. Flynn scowled. He'd already cancelled the remaining appointments in his day and his secretary, Delores, knew quite well that, short of a fire, he was never to be bothered while with a patient. This had better be a 4 alarm catastrophe, he thought, as he called, "Yes, what is it?"

As the door opened, he was surprised to see not Delores but Taylor, Grey's protection officer, looking quite grave.

"I apologize for the interruption, Dr. Flynn, but I have some information possibly related to Ms. Steele's whereabouts and I'm under orders to bring any information, however trivial, to Mr. Grey's attention immediately."

"Of course, please come in, Mr. Taylor. Christian, would you like me to give you some privacy?"

Before Grey could respond, Taylor spoke directly to Flynn.

"Doctor, I think it would be good if you were present. You may be needed."

"Taylor? spoke Grey quietly.

"Sir, a young woman answering to Ms. Steele's description was brought into the morgue a while ago. She was found in an alley near Aurora Avenue North, a victim of blunt force trauma, they said. It's a rough part of town, Sir. She's listed as a Jane Doe as she bore no identification on her person and no one has come forward to, hmm, claim the body. Sawyer wasn't allowed in to see her but he told the police that she might be an ex-girlfriend of your's. So the officials would, in fact, like you to aid in the identification, if possible."

Taylor looked a bit sick as he relayed this request. He had, himself, grown fond of Ms. Steele and he particularly enjoyed the incredible effect she seemed to have on his boss's moods, most of which had always been foul. Since her disappearance, Taylor had worked himself and his team hard to find her. He dreaded the possibility that they'd finally succeeded.

Christian was up from the couch and out the door, racing to the SUV parked with the engine running, Sawyer at the wheel.

Flynn wasn't able to move quite as quickly but Grey's impatience didn't show as expected. He sat frozen in the back seat. He needed to know but again he didn't want to know. As soon as Taylor and Flynn were buckled in, Sawyer sped off in the direction of the hospital.

Grey was on the pavement the second the Mercedes ground to a halt at the hospital doors, running for the elevator and then the stairs, flying down the 2 flights two steps at a time and pulling open the heavy steel door with enough force to slam it back against the wall. He grabbed the first white coated employee he saw and demanded to know the way to the morgue. Reaching the desk he pounded on the counter, yelling for attention NOW!

"My name is Christian Grey. I'm here to identify a Jane Doe, a small brunette young woman. Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!

The receptionist was not alarmed. Grey wasn't her first hysterical visitor. Nor did she take offense. She knew if she were in such a situation that she'd be hysterical, too. She quickly looked down at her roster of Jane Does, noted the drawer number and pressed a button. She looked up at the Christian Grey. In any other circumstance, she would have been stunned by his exceptional good looks but all she saw was the crazed expression of a desperate man. All she could do was reassure him that he wouldn't be kept waiting.

"An attendant will be here to take you to the viewing area, Mr. Grey. Please take a breath. We'll be as fast as possible."

Flynn and Taylor found Christian pacing madly back and forth, tearing at his hair, hyperventilating. Soon the attendant pushed through the swinging doors and politely asked Christian to follow him, explaining as they walked down the corridor that he was leading them to a room with a curtained window. He said that the gurney conveying the body would be moved from the drawer and stationed in front of the window and the curtain would be opened, revealing the deceased. Then Christian would be asked to identify the body if possible.

All three men stood stone still in front of the curtain. All three were sweating. Christian put his hand to his head and Flynn heard the agnostic Mr. Grey muttering to a god he wasn't sure existed, "Please, please," over and over again. Flynn prepared himself to deal with a man stricken with grief.

"Mr. Grey," said the voice over the intercom, "we're going to open the curtain now. Please take a careful look and either nod or shake your head. That's all you have to do. Are you ready?"

"Yes, we're ready," replied Taylor. After a moment, the curtains swished open and there lay, covered to her shoulders with a white sheet, a pretty young woman with long brown hair, full lips, alabaster skin and the side of her head bashed in.

ANA

As she sat on the fire escape, Ana was flooded with memories and sensations….also unpleasant odors from all the garbage but these she chose to ignore. She closed her eyes and leaned back, imagining that she was leaning back in Christian's arms.

Her first night with Grey, there'd been only a few moments of discomfort and then the whole experience had been rather nice. She didn't have an orgasm but she didn't think that she was supposed to anyway or even what one felt like. She did like the other feelings and especially the closeness. No one in her life had ever held her in their arms except for her father but she liked the way this strange man's strong arms felt around her and the way he nuzzled her and kissed her and held her so close to his chest. It made her feel something different from her father's arms but a good difference. She was even comfortable sleeping naked with him and she slept well.

The next night he took her into the playroom and afterward sent her off to sleep alone in the sub's room. She clutched the teddy bear her father had given her when she was little and tried not to think about the playroom and the pain and the humiliation and the strangeness of it all.

Fear had almost overtaken her and she'd had to concentrate on thoughts of enduring it for Ray when Christian had pulled her down on his lap to spank her, telling her that this first time he was going to deliver 12 blows with just his hand. She was so terrified that she almost peed on him. She knew that she could use the safe words he'd taught her but she needed to please him…for Ray. When Grey was finished, he called her his "good girl" and said that he was very pleased that she had such a high tolerance for pain…so she knew she'd done the right thing by remaining silent.

Perhaps, he'd said, they could move onto higher levels sooner than he'd anticipated but when he told her that she could now stand up, she was hurting so badly that her legs felt wobbly and she almost fell over. She tried hard to hold back tears and lied that she was clumsy. Christian didn't buy that lie like the teachers who questioned her bruises and broken bones. He looked stricken. He made her lie on her stomach while he rubbed a special ointment on her now very tender skin and applied ice packs to numb the pain. He even kissed her butt! He said that he'd never hit her again and sternly told her that she must always use her safe words no matter what they were doing and he would never be displeased with her for doing so. And she wanted to believe him….but she couldn't. It was too risky. Ray's life depended on her cooperation. She could never trust this man or tell him the absolute truth or everything for Ray could be taken away.

While she was hurting, because she was hurting, Ray was sleeping comfortably in the special bed ordered by Christian. It wasn't a small, stiff, plastic covered mattress with 100 ct sheets smelling of hospital detergent that aggravated his bed sores. It was a king size, top of the line bed with the softest sheets Christian's money could buy and laundered by a private firm. Ray could use a special remote to raise, lower and adjust the mattress instead of hoping someone would come by sometime to crank the bed into a sitting position. Christian had flown in specialists from around the world to study Ray's condition and how best to treat him. He was paying for the finest private nurses to cater to Ray's every whim around the clock. A dietitian was now working with the Mile High Club to provide Ray with delicious meals…not hospital food. His room was warm and homey and more like a luxury 5 star hotel room, complete with a 70" high def tv and a huge window with a beautiful view.

And now he had the best medicines so that his pain was manageable and he was able to sleep. Christian had really gone above and beyond in honoring his end of their deal.

Already Ray was more lucid and animated. He was also highly suspicious. Ana had to convince him that she'd found a rich boyfriend who was willing to do anything to make her happy. Ray, of course, knew of the Christian Grey. He was well aware of the wunderkind of Grey Enterprise Holdings. Backwoods redneck, I may be, he told his daughter but he did read the papers and he'd seen the articles on Grey speaking at Ana's graduation. Awfully generous boyfriend that he'd never heard of till now, eh?

Couldn't put anything past Ray Steele, former SEAL, he told Ana. In order to convince him, Christian himself stopped by Ray's new room to ask if there was anything, anything at all, that he wanted or needed. Yeah, said Ray, a real good explanation for Grey's kindness toward an old man whom he didn't even know.

Christian very smoothly convinced Ray that Christian himself was amazed at the swiftness and the depth of his feelings for Ana. He told him that he'd met Ana after he purchased Grey Publishing and was knocked dead off his feet. It was close enough to the truth, after all. It wasn't that hard to persuade Ana's adoring father that someone else would also find her adorable. And that was the whole truth.

It was trickier for Ana to convince her father that she was "dating" Christian because of her affection for him and not because he was wealthy enough to give her sick father better care. She had to call upon her best acting skills to make Ray believe that she truly loved Christian Grey. Ray knew that money and things meant little to Ana but he also knew that she wasn't above using a rich man, or any other means necessary, to take care of her beloved father. For him, she'd do anything. Ana lied and lied and lied until Ray finally took her at her word….then she went back to her tiny apartment and cried for hours. If Ray had had the slightest suspicion that Ana was tied up and spread eagled on red satin sheets in a "playroom" so that a Dom could explore her most private body parts before he fucked her furiously, he'd have slit his own throat with a Mile High Club steak knife to save his darling daughter from sacrificing herself for him.

Sitting there on the fire escape, Ana was struck suddenly with the realization that she was, indeed, an incredibly accomplished liar. It was almost funny, she thought. Her father's precious, virginal, goody-two-shoes, 4.5 GPA princess had spent her whole life lying. Ray had never told her anything but the truth. He didn't even try to disguise his pain levels because he needed her to always trust his word. And even Christian had been far more honest with her than she had ever been with him. Except for his initial attempt to seduce her, he'd thereafter always told her the truth. How odd, she thought, that it had never before occurred to her that she had lied her way thru life.

When her mother took her away from Ray, Ana told him that it was okay, that she wanted to go with Carla. She could see his pain at losing his little girl and she wanted to protect him. And all those times that social workers and teachers and police and even classmates asked her about her injuries, she'd lied to protect her mother. Her mother wanted her to lie but Ana also did it because she knew that her mother would get a beating if husbands #3 and #4 got into trouble.

When she moved back home with Ray, she told him that the nightmares were about witches and ghosts, not beatings and burns. When she went to college, she told potential friends that she didn't want to go out because she liked being alone and had to study…not that she was too poor to afford a rum and coke at a bar and that she was working constantly so that she could pay rent and eat ramen noodles. All those girls who said how they envied her slender figure….she was too proud to tell them that she could only pay for a meal a day. So, finally, they stopped trying to get close to her. Mostly, she pretended always to be content and peaceful when inside she was a screaming loon.

And now, she lies to Mac. She doesn't put the leftovers in the dumpster. She puts them aside and goes out at night to find hungry people while he worries about her safety in this tough neighborhood. If someone did harm her because of her carelessness, it would kill Mac. He would blame himself. She promises to go straight to bed but she doesn't tell him that sleeping means night terrors and sweat-soaked sheets so instead she stays up cleaning and reading until her body gives out. When he frets about her weight, she tells him that she is really quite strong; she just has a high metabolism and it's hard to keep the weight on. And all those kind people, those rough, tough guys who come into the diner every day to see their "Rose" and they tell her how wonderful she is and such a ray of sunshine and leave her tips that she doesn't deserve…

They don't know that she is a user and a liar.

She'd like there to be an afterlife so that she could see her father again but, on the other hand, if he were up there watching her, he'd be so ashamed of her. Not just because of her involvement with Christian Grey but because he'd know the truth of her…that she was not his little princess, not his sweet and innocent child but a scheming, manipulative liar who got through life by fooling everyone. In fact, the only thing she never lied about was her 4.5 GPA. That was her only truth and she couldn't even use what she'd learned because she had to hide from a good man who'd tried to save her father's life.

She sat there on the fire escape at 2 in the morning, chuckling bitterly to herself…Christian Grey and all his self-loathing had nothing on her.

CHRISTIAN

After a moment, the curtains swished open and there lay, covered to her shoulders with a white sheet, a pretty young woman with long brown hair, full lips, alabaster skin and the side of her head bashed in.

"Jesus", gasped Taylor while Flynn bowed his head and made the sign of the cross over his heart.

Christian stared before stumbling backwards unto a plastic chair and then bending forward, buried his head in his hands and struggled to keep from vomiting.

"Mr. Grey, please, I'm sorry, sir, but we need you to nod or shake your head. Is this Anastasia Rose Steele on this gurney?"

The young man's voice on the intercom was strained. Geez, his job was crap some days. The Jane and John Doe IDs were the worst. At least this one hadn't been fished out of the river. Those bloated, discolored bodies were the hardest to look at and a lot of them were suicides. The young attendant mused that drowning suicides were the least considerate of the suicides.

"Sir?"

"No, that is not Anastasia Steele on the gurney," answered Taylor.

"Well, hmm… according to my orders, the identification is to be made by a Mr. Christian Grey. Are you Mr. Grey, sir?"

"No, but I'm well acquainted with Ms. Steele," said Taylor. Christ, he thought. Do you have to be so officious?

"Then which of you is Mr. Grey. I'm really terribly sorry but I have no choice but to receive an answer from the person on my paperwork."

Flynn pointed at Christian. "This is Mr. Grey. Christian, could you look up for a moment and shake your head, please? Then we can leave."

Finally Christian raised his head, looked straight at the attendant and shook his head. "No, that is not Ana," he choked out.

Christian tried to stand but fell back again. Taylor and Flynn each took one of his arms and helped him to his feet. To their surprise, he stopped and took one last look at the pretty girl just as the curtain closed.

"Taylor," he said, "please tell the receptionist that if she isn't claimed, I'd like to take responsibility for funeral and burial arrangements. Could you do that for her, please? Ana had no one. That could have too easily been her."

"Of course, Mr. Grey. You go to the car with Dr. Flynn. I'll be out in a few minutes. Then we'll drop off Dr. Flynn. I think it best that you go home now, don't you?"

Grey just nodded and walked shakily down the corridor to the elevator. Taylor stopped to speak with the receptionist, leaving the necessary information. She smiled and said that it was very kind of Mr. Grey to care about a stranger and that she was pleased for him that the body was not that of his friend.

And the horror show was over. For today.

Taylor stayed close to his boss, ready to grab him if he began to stumble again on the way to the car. Grey didn't speak on the way back to Flynn's office. Flynn said that he would call in the morning. He noticed that Christian had not fastened his seatbelt and was staring out the window.

"Taylor, please attach Mr. Grey's seatbelt, would you? And, also, try to get him to eat something. I believe that Gail may still have some of that sedative in her fridge. Get him into bed and administer a dose. He's in shock and needs to sleep through the night. No piano playing, understood?"

"Yes, Doctor. Thanks so much for coming along."

"Hell, he's putting all 3 of my kids through college and, the way things are going, my grandkids, too," smirked Flynn. "Never mind. Bad joke. Call me any hour, if need be, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Taylor replied, as he secured his boss's seatbelt. He followed Flynn to the office door. "I'll call you in the morning, regardless. These last couple of months have been hell for everyone. We may all need therapy. I've got to find that woman somehow, some way. I've just run out of ideas. I don't understand Ana. She's got a heart of gold. If she had any idea of how bad he is…."he trailed off, frustrated.

"It's okay to be angry with her, Taylor, even if you like her. And we don't know what kind of hell she's going thru either. Could always try praying."

"Did Mr. Grey tell you that her father died a few months ago?" asked Taylor, looking back at the car.

"No," answered Flynn, shocked. "That would certainly tell me something about her. Thank you, Taylor. Now get some rest yourself."

It was getting quite late and Flynn realized that he'd spent the afternoon with Christian and now the evening, so caught up in events that he hadn't called his wife. She'd be understanding, of course, as usual. How did she do that? he wondered. If she'd left the house at 7 am and disappeared until late without a call, he'd first be frantic, then furious and then filing for divorce. Well, okay, not divorce but definitely the first two.

Delores had locked up and he was too tired to go in and write up his notes on Grey for the day. He had a lot of thinking to do anyway. He decided to head straight for the car, go home, embrace his wife and try to stop thinking about Christian for one god damn night. That man gave him more trouble than all of his other patients combined.

He'd begun his practice with the intention of treating patients on only a short term basis and that was how it had gone for many years. His longest term patient had been 1 year and Flynn had pushed her off on another doctor, telling her that she required more specialized treatment. As he recalled, she'd been rather flattered to be so difficult.

Then along came Christian Grey with a simple complaint…insomnia due to nightmares. Easy peasy, thought Flynn. Keep a diary of the nightmares, find the source and talk it through, take a pill and see you in six months for an update. NEXT!

Yet six years later Flynn was still plumbing the depths of this man's neurosis. When Christian had not stormed into his office demanding immediate attention for 6 months in a row, Flynn crowed to Rhian that he'd finally cured him. Of course, he never mentioned Christian by name or even talked about him in any detail; that would be breaching confidentiality. He just referred to him as the patient who wouldn't go away and when Rhian caught him wide awake at 3 am, she'd ask, "Woody Allen keeping you up?"

Unbeknownst to his lovely wife, she had met his Woody Allen several times over the years at charity galas, including the ones thrown by Grey's mother, Grace, every year. During one memorable gala, Grey had decided to have a bit of fun at Flynn's expense by asking Rhian if the good doctor ever complained about his work and Rhian, rather deep in her cups, had very nearly blurted out that only one patient gave her husband heartburn but that was okay because his fees were going to pay for the kids college. Flynn had feigned a coughing fit just in time to stop her. He caught her eye and she clammed up. Grey looked disappointed and at his next appointment chided Flynn about spoiling his fun. Come to think of it, that was one of his last appointments before today's debacle.

Before Grey met Ana.

TAYLOR

Taylor opened his eyes to find Gail already gone from their bed. She was usually up before him and he frankly hated that. He'd been telling her since they'd first begun sharing a bed that he felt bereft to find himself alone and wished that she would either stay with him until he woke up or wake him when she got up. Still, she felt that she had too much work to do to sleep in and that he did not get enough rest as it was. That last part was true enough. He rarely had regular hours, working for Grey.

Before he'd fallen in love with Gail, it hadn't mattered to Jason how much sleep he got or when he slept but being in love with a woman and needing her to be with him had changed everything. He'd forgotten that. He'd probably felt that way when he first fell in love with his ex-wife but their relationship had been good for only a couple of years before she'd started waking him up with fists and kicks and other forms of physical abuse. She seemed to hate him and no amount of couples therapy helped. He understood that "it takes two" but she could never seem to explain just what he'd done, why she hated him so. He'd stuck it out while she beat him up and cheated on him because they'd had a child together. He didn't want to leave his darling Sophie but his ex kicked him out when she wanted her boyfriend to move in. Then she beat him up by trying to keep him from his daughter.

Despite his boss's bad temper, disgusting sex life and often unreasonable demands on his time, Taylor was loyal to Grey because the man used his money to get the best lawyers for Jason and the best private education for Sophie. Without Grey's help, Jason doubted that he would ever see much of his child and her absence from his life was too horrible a possibility to contemplate. His ex-wife was a barracuda and only a great white shark like Christian Grey was a formidable enough opponent. Taylor had seen her face once after a private conversation with Grey in his GEH office and she was cowed and terrified like he'd never before seen her. Whatever Grey had said to her, she never again tried to keep him from Sophie.

Grey was also responsible for his present very happily married life with Gail. She had been working for Grey for a year before he'd decided that his increasing wealth and prominence put him in need of a security detail. His father, Carrick, was himself prominent as an attorney and "knew people" as the rich do. He'd suggested that his son interview Jason Taylor, ex-marine, ex-law enforcement and sometime security detail for diplomats. Jason hadn't been enthused about being a babysitter for a young rich kid but it was a steady gig with great pay and benefits. The job would keep him in one place and near his baby daughter. He also figured that it would be a safe gig and thus keep his ex-wife from using the dangers of his job as an excuse to deny him visitation. So, he sucked it up and waited for the elevator to open into the penthouse and possibly his new job.

As the doors slid back, he took a deep breath as he looked into the smiling blue eyes of the gorgeous blonde woman standing in front of him, welcoming him. He was flummoxed and too stunned to do more than grunt. She was kind, assumed that he was the new bodyguard and showed him to the door of Christian Grey's study. She must have assumed that his dazed look indicated nerves about the interview so she tried to reassure him that Mr. Grey was already impressed with his resume and that he needn't worry.

It took him another year to get up the nerve to inquire of Mr. Grey as to whether his contract allowed fraternization between employees and then another year to ask Gail on a date and another year to propose marriage. It was so much easier to dodge bullets.

Without Gail and Sophie, Taylor would probably have neither taken the job nor kept it long. Grey had him sign an NDA, which wasn't unusual in itself but the reason for it turned his stomach. Jason knew next to nothing about BDSM. He'd always been a straight arrow and this room, this red room and what went on in it, was beyond his comprehension. He read up on bondage and sadism and it turned his stomach. Gail found him unpacking his first day and asked him if he had anything that needed washing. "Yes," he sighed, sinking onto his bed, "my memory". He'd looked at her in horror.

Feeling mischievous, Gail had laughed and told him of her first time having to "dust" the red room…which included changing the sheets and collecting used condoms. You'll adapt, she promised him.

God, she was a beautiful woman, he'd thought, but maybe his first impression of her was wrong if she thought that "that" was funny. She was right, however. He did adapt and began to find the whole thing boring. Brunette women coming and going. .Arranging for new cars for each new woman. Occasionally having to "help" unwilling subs accept that their contracts were terminated. He feared only that his ex would hear of Mr. Grey's sexual predilections because that would most certainly put the end to his daughter's visits. Mr. Grey was very careful, however, so he began to relax about that after the first year or so.

It all became just part of the job until the morning he walked into the kitchen and found yet another small brown-haired girl standing in the boss's kitchen.

TAYLOR

Taylor had made a habit of avoiding the kitchen between 8 pm Friday and 1 pm Sunday because those were "sub" times when Grey's whores were supposed to be making his meals. However, it had been months since Grey had had a sub, Taylor's kitchen was out of coffee and Gail was gone, off visiting her sister. So, he froze in his tracks and wondered how he'd missed this one. Grey hadn't alerted him to a new arrival or the need for a new car. He tried to quietly turn and walk away when a sweet voice piped up…"Good morning. I'm sorry to trouble you. Hmm…do you know how to make coffee?"

Say what? he thought.

The memory made him laugh now. Anastasia Steele not only didn't know how to make coffee, she was clueless about making almost anything. She'd found a cookbook and was carefully searching the index for a "recipe" for making coffee. Taylor pointed out the coffee maker and she looked at it, perplexed. He then pointed out the bags of beans. His usual stern expression, exacerbated by missing Gail, must have scared her because she smiled up at him, thanked him for his patience and said that she was sure that she could figure it out from there. Taylor decided to go out for coffee. He went back to his quarters, showered and dressed. When he emerged 20 minutes later, he looked around the corner to see the sub still examining the coffee machine. Good grief, he thought, Grey's subs are supposed to be good cooks. How the hell did he find one who can't make coffee? Easy, Jason, he told himself. Gail would want you to be nice to the little trollop.

"I suppose these high-end machines can be kinda confusing," he allowed.

"I made coffee for my dad," said the girl, "but it was just a pot of hot water and a jar of Sanka Instant."

"Well, how's about I make the coffee and you can make the omelet?" She looked up him and beamed and it was the blue eyes that got him. Blue eyes like Gail's.

After all, he wondered, why did Grey expect a brand new sub to know her way around Gail's kitchen? Maybe he should put a kitchenette in the Red Room, he smirked. After he got the coffee started, he began showing the girl where to find pans and plates and such. Feeling that he'd helped her on her way, Taylor wished her well and took himself out for breakfast.

One hour, a walk and a delicious stack of IHop pancakes later, Taylor returned to the penthouse to find Mr. Grey coughing and waving smoke out the terrace doors while the girl was wiping something greasy off the kitchen floor. A used fire extinguisher lay atop the counter and foam covered the back wall of the kitchen behind the remains of the coffee maker.

Taylor realized that neither one had heard the ping of the elevator doors over the beeping of the smoke detector and so wisely decided to sneak around the corner and back to his living quarters unseen. Later he heard raised voices and then his boss yelling for him. He surmised that he would be asked to assist the little sub to her car. Hoping to be done with this mess before the football game started, Taylor entered his boss's study to find Grey and the sub, toe to toe and glaring at each other. Aw hell. This one wasn't going to go easy.

"Sir?" enquired Taylor.

"Taylor, I need you to find a cleaning service to tend to the kitchen, get me a new coffee machine and probably someone to paint the kitchen. And maybe the dining and living rooms, depending on the amount of smoke damage." As he said this, he was staring down at the girl and she was staring back up at him, fire in her eyes. Grey, surprisingly, appeared to be losing whatever battle was taking place.

"Yes, sir. Hmm, will that be all, sir?" Taylor waited for further instructions…such as, get this woman out of here…but Grey just nodded.

Taylor left the study, left the couple clad in sweatpants and t-shirts continuing to glare at each other and started making the requested calls. The voices raised again. The argument seemed to be about the wasteful expense of cleanup that the girl felt she could handle herself while his boss pointed out that he had plenty of money for professional cleanup and she said that he could give the money to charity and he said that it was his home and he would decide who should clean it and she said that it was her mess and her responsibility and Taylor felt it was best that he hide out for the remainder of the weekend. He couldn't wait to tell Gail about this and he was sure that the girl would be gone before the weekend was up.

TAYLOR

Grey texted Taylor to fly down to Los Angeles that afternoon to interview a possible new recruit for the security team. Weekends off were never promised and apparently not to be expected either, especially if Grey knew that neither Sophie nor Gail were home. Taylor surmised that Grey must be getting really serious about his security. In the past year he'd already added a new tech expert, Carl, in addition to his investigator, Welch, and placed a security firm on retainer for his mother, Grace's, annual charity galas. In the years that Taylor had been with him, his wealth and reputation had grown to the extent that he now received regular death threats. Most were easily dealt with by Taylor and Welch but Grey was quite protective of his parents and siblings. He had covert surveillance on all of them now of which only his father was aware. He had cameras watching parts of the penthouse, particularly entrances and the garage. Security at GEH was also being regularly updated. Now, unexpectedly, Grey felt that Taylor needed backup. So on Sunday night Taylor returned to Escala with Luke Sawyer, a guy with a resume as impressive as his own.

Taylor was anxious to return because Gail would also be back and he missed his woman. His woman missed her kitchen and her coffee maker. She greeted him at the door with a "what the hell" when he would have preferred a leap into his arms. He hadn't been able to get in a painting crew until Monday because even Grey's money couldn't drag a bunch of guys away from the big game and neither he nor Taylor had been able to remember what brand of coffee maker Gail used. The place was, however, clean and smoke-free. Taylor guessed the sub had won the argument before being shown the door, tho' why she'd want to scrub up the place before being kicked out, he didn't understand.

Grey was stowed away in his study as was usual for a Sunday evening so Taylor and Gail talked quietly at the breakfast bar as he filled her in on the weekend's events.

"I found a melted candle and containers from the Mile High Club in the trash bin as well as leftovers in the fridge. Did Mr. Grey have company?" marveled Gail.

"I don't know about that but Saturday morning I found a new sub in the kitchen trying to figure out how to make coffee. Honey, she didn't have a clue what to do with that machine of your's…except, apparently, how to destroy it," laughed Taylor.

"A new sub, eh?" sighed Gail. "I don't know how to feel about that, Jason. It's been some time."

"Well, I guess it's back to collecting condoms on Monday mornings," he laughed, then decided it best to shut up.

Gail narrowed her eyes at him. "I meant that, on the one hand, he's been in such a mood without his, hmm, tension relievers but on the other hand, yes, it's back to condom collection," she giggled, putting her hand over her mouth.

"No, really, I'd hoped that he was ready to give it up. You know, maybe have a real relationship…someone to love, to love him. It bothers me to see him go on and on like this. And, you know, I rarely find those women tolerable. They mess up my kitchen and they're often rude."

"Well, I don't think this one is coming back. She seemed kind of sweet actually but she's got a mouth on her. You know how his subs are always meek and obedient around him? This one was telling him off".

"You're kidding!" gasped Gail. "I didn't think that was allowed."

"Neither did I, honey. Not only that but she was looking him right in the eye, telling him that he shouldn't be spending money on cleanup when she could tidy up her own messes. She was really letting him have it."

"Whoa. Well, guess that'll be the end of her. She didn't even stick around long enough to get her car? Did you drive her home?"

"Grey sent me to L.A. in the afternoon to interview the new guy so I'm guessing that she had to cab it," answered Jason. "Too bad. I kind of liked her, too."

The sound of a doorknob turning alerted Gail and Jason to Grey's approach.

"Shh," warned Jason, "Incoming."

"Mr. Grey, would you like some dinner?" smiled Gail.

"Mrs. Taylor, would you like a working kitchen?" grinned Grey. "Maybe a coffee maker?" He laughed.

Jason and Gail looked at each other bewildered.

"Don't worry," Christian reassured his housekeeper. "The painters will be here first thing and your kitchen should be all settled by noon. Taylor, why don't you bring your wife along tomorrow when you drop me off and then the two of you can go out for breakfast and a new coffee maker on your way home? I'm heading off to bed. See you in the morning." He waved as he rounded the staircase on his way to his bedroom, leaving Gail and Jason gobsmacked at the breakfast bar.

Monday morning, arriving at his office, Grey hopped out of the car, confusing Taylor and Gail with his pep and his smile. And what was with the damn happy humming all the way to GEH?

"Oh, Gail," he said, tucking his head down into the window, I'll need the guest room done up by Friday afternoon and, hmmm, maybe a vase of flowers? Something simple but cheerful. Also, stock the kitchen with Twinnings English Breakfast Tea, would you? Thanks."

Thanks? Gail blinked at him from the seat next to Taylor.

"And Taylor, get a new car but this one in powder blue instead of the usual red. Fully loaded with the best safety features. I have a feeling that Ms. Steele drives like she cooks," he chuckled, as he strode off to his office, practically skipping.

Chuckled? Taylor blinked back at Gail.

"Well, I guess our newest little sub hasn't been terminated after all," mused Taylor. "What the bloody hell?"

Friday afternoon Grey was too nervous to eat. He told Gail that he'd wait until Ana arrived and they'd eat together.

"Of course, I don't know how much appetite she'll have after seeing her father. If he isn't doing well, she may not want much. I've noticed that she doesn't eat much anyway. With your cooking, tho', maybe we can get her to eat better," smiled Grey.

"I'll be sure to have her tea ready, Mr. Grey. May I ask about her father?"

Another query, thought Gail. Subs usually had to eat healthy, according to their contracts.

" Her father is quite ill. I've had him moved into Bellevue Medical. He was in a lesser medical facility in Portland and wasn't doing well. We're hoping that better care will improve his condition. He's all the world to her."

"Has she no other family, sir?"

"Unfortunately,… Well, no, she's got a mother in Georgia…more an egg donor than a mother, really. They're not in touch," Grey frowned.

"Oh, dear. Poor thing. I could make up some meals for her to take to him. Would that be okay?" suggested Gail.

"That's thoughtful, Gail, but I've made arrangements for the hospital dietitian and the chef at the Mile High to coordinate on meals for Ray. Of course, the club doesn't make red velvet cake like you do."

Gail didn't know why she was surprised by his kindness. She knew that he took good care of his subs, even putting one through medical school. Gail had initially been appalled by his "arrangements" just like Jason but soon saw that he was a good man…just one with strange inclinations. She didn't often like the women, tho'. Most of them were snooty and manipulative..like their "keeper", Mrs. Lincoln. And while he was a brilliant businessman, Mr. Grey was less than smart about women.

Still, even tho' she hadn't yet met this new one, she had a good feeling about her and she looked forward to 8 pm.

At 8:30 the elevator bell pinged and yet another petite brunette walked through the doors. He certainly had a type, thought Gail. While everything she'd heard from Grey and Jason had made her hopeful, she still held her breath for a moment. Subs were expected to be on time…not a minute early and certainly not 30 minutes late. There would be hell to pay.

In the next moment she found herself rushing across the marble floors to envelope the girl in her arms. The wee thing was weeping and her face was ashen. Gail lead her to the couch and rocked her in her arms. In another instant, Mr. Grey was on the couch, picking up the girl and cradling her on his lap, holding her head against his chest and his nose in her hair. Gail looked at him in dismay, at a loss.

"It's okay, Gail. I'll take it from here." Grey looked grim.

"I'll make a pot of that tea she likes," she offered and Grey nodded.

Gail left the tea on the table by the couch and went back to busy herself in the kitchen in case they did want some dinner.

She could hear Grey speaking softly, comforting Ms. Steele. She'd never seen him like this but she was too concerned about the girl to concentrate on the new improved Grey just now.

After some time had past, Gail heard a small giggle and saw that the girl had raised her head and Grey was smiling at her. He said something to her and nodded toward the kitchen. The girl climbed off his lap, wiping her eyes on his t-shirt and sitting on the couch next to him. She picked up the tea, sipped and sighed. Grey called to Gail that they'd both like a simple salad with chicken and cherry tomatoes. Then he walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine.

Gail so wanted to ask but was too polite to intrude. Grey seemed to realize, however.

"Thanks for being there when she came in," he said, "her father had a set back today. Then they kicked her out for the night. That shit is not going to happen again," he snarled.

He walked back to the couch and coaxed the girl to eat something.

"Gail, this is Anastasia Rose Steele. She likes to be called Ana."

"Ana, this is my house manager, Gail Taylor."

Ana looked puzzled for a moment. "Huh," she said, "your last name is the same as Taylor's first name."

"No," grinned Grey, "his name is Jason Taylor and Gail is his wife."

"Oh…duh," Ana giggled, knocking a small fist against her head.

For the first time, Gail noticed that this small brunette was far prettier than any of the others, far sweeter in her countenance. She had stunning blue eyes that really stood out in her pale face, full pink lips and such shiny brown hair filled with auburn highlights. Gail recalled Jason's story of her battle with Grey. None of the others seemed to have much personality at all around him. It was all eyes down and yes, sir, no sir. Of course, that was expected of subs. Was this one something different?

"Mrs. Taylor, I'm very sorry about the mess I made of your kitchen. And your coffee maker. And your floor. And.."

"Ana, stop. Stop," chided Grey.

"Christian, I'm making proper apologies. I've already apologized to you for all the expense and trouble I put you to and it's Mrs. Taylor's kitchen as much as it is your's, isn't it?"

Grey looked chastised as Gail was sure that her own expression was one of shock. She didn't know if the apology or Grey's face was the cause of her shock. Probably both.

"Does your father like red velvet cupcakes, Ana?"

ANA

The clang of empty trash cans being thrown to the ground after the garbage collectors had emptied them into the truck jarred Ana from her nightmare. It was barely dawn. She had fallen asleep on the fire escape and was now chilled, wet from an early morning drizzle and aching from sleeping on metal grating all night long. She'd dreamt again of Christian. The dreams were getting worse. She'd been gone from him for some time now. Shouldn't she be getting better sleep, not less? At first, Christian was just calling to her but now he was crying for her, tearing at his hair. She supposed that it was the guilt getting to her. He'd taken her prisoner so why should she be the one feeling guilty? It wasn't fair. The further she got from him, the more peace she should be feeling, shouldn't she?

She struggled to straighten herself out and crawl back through in the window. She really needed a warm shower and a bowl of hot oatmeal if she were going to avoid getting sick. Mac would have a fit if she began sneezing or, worse, developed a fever. Besides, who would work her shifts…all of them. Maybe Mac was right about getting a second waitress. If she ever did get sick, she couldn't be around food and then he'd have no one to help.

By the time Ana made it downstairs to set up for the breakfast rush, she realized that her throat was sore and she was developing a cough. Damn. She just could not be sick and if she was, she had to keep it from Mac.

With a great effort and a busy crowd distracting Mac, Ana made it through the morning. By the time 10 am rolled around things had quieted down and Ana took a break to go out for some DayQuil to ease her throat. All she had to do was get through lunch and dinner now. Mac was no fool, however, nor were any of her favorite customers, all of whom saw how sick she was.

Mac hustled her upstairs, reminding her that he'd managed to run his diner without her help for weeks after the last waitress took off and he'd manage again. If anyone complained about the service, they could go eat at one of the food trucks parked by the construction sites down the road.

Ana slept until late afternoon but then began complaining of being useless and bored. One of the women who'd begun coming by for lunch offered to pick up a book or two from the bookmobile for her. Ana didn't have a library card and didn't want one, nothing that Taylor could trace, but it couldn't hurt to use someone else's card so she asked Margaret to pick up an Austen or Bronte'. Mac had insisted she stay in bed for another couple of days so immersing herself in a couple of her favorite books sounded like heaven. When Margaret returned with the books, she sat with "Rose" and they talked for a couple of hours.

Margaret was near Mac's age and had been widowed for a decade. She, too, had never wanted to love again. What a threesome we are, Ana laughed to herself. Margaret was currently clerking at the GoodWill store down the street but she and her husband had run a restaurant for 25 years until his death. After he died, she told Ana, she needed to make a change. Working a food service, she noted, required a cheerful disposition, an interest in other people and a lot of energy…none of which Margaret felt she possessed anymore, without Harry. Ana knew that Margaret had weekends off and wondered aloud if Margaret would consider helping her and Mac out while she was sick. Since the diner had become a cleaner, safer place to eat, people would bring their families on the weekend and it would be awfully difficult for Mac to keep up. She told Margaret that she was concerned about him working too hard. Please, please, pretty please, begged Ana.

Ana had a secret agenda. She knew that she would have to be moving on sooner rather than later and she didn't want to leave Mac in the lurch. Margaret was a sweet, kind woman who would be good for Mac…a friend to look after him more than a daughter he needed to protect. When she was ready to go, she'd feel better about leaving Mac in good hands. Well, Margaret said, she supposed it would be okay if it was okay with Mac.

When Mac visited his Rose after closing, he agreed in order to keep her from becoming upset. Besides, if Margaret agreed to stay on, Rose wouldn't be worked so hard.

And, so, while Ana lay in bed slurping soup, napping and reading Jane Eyre, she rested easy knowing that Mac and the diner were in good hands.

By Monday, Ana was back at her job and had convinced Mac to hire Margaret part-time to help out. It didn't take much effort since that was exactly what he'd been pushing for for some time to relieve Rose's burden. Ana had a decent amount of cash saved up now and felt the need to move on. Her nervousness about staying in one place too long had been growing, increasing to the point where she was beginning to imagine that she was being watched.

It was going on 3 months since she'd left Escala. It seemed reasonable to assume that Christian had given up and moved on but she couldn't be sure. She wished that there were someway for her to find out. She tried to think if there were anyone she could trust to tell her without reporting back to Christian but no one came to mind. Now she wondered where to go next. She had some money now. She could try to hop a bus and leave for another town but she didn't want to find another dead end job even if she could find one that would agree to pay in cash.

Even tho' she'd found a refuge at Mac's all this time and she ought to have been able to rest up, she seemed to feel even more tired than before. She slept less, had more bad dreams and less strength, it seemed. Maybe if she went far enough, even if he did find her, he'd understand that she wanted….she wanted…her head hurt. What did she want? Her confusion only seemed to grow. Nothing made sense anymore. No matter how hard she tried to understand things, to "do her best to live a good life" as she'd promised her father, she couldn't think how to do it. Nothing was clear.

When she ran from Christian, she was determined and settled in her thinking. There was no confusion…just get away. Well, she'd done that but it didn't seem that she'd thought much beyond flight. Now she had to think harder, think further but trying to do so only made her head ache. And she was having trouble making sense of why she'd left Christian. She knew that she had to because, because…why? She loved him. She missed him. Leaving him didn't make sense, did it? Yes, yes. Now she remembered. She was his prisoner so she had to escape. Isn't that what prisoners did?

One day, despite all her careful planning, she made a mistake. A mistake that maybe wouldn't have mattered a month earlier…before a young woman with a head trauma had been brought into the morgue. A young woman whose death had so thoroughly traumatized Christian Grey that his security team had redoubled their efforts to find Ana because they weren't certain that he could continue to handle the thought of her being out there somewhere hurt. Desperate men, as they say, do desperate things…and Taylor and his team were becoming desperate men.

Knowing of Ana's love of British Literature and knowing that she hadn't taken her books with her, perhaps she would try to find a book. So they put out the word to every book store in Seattle, even the smallest, and they investigated every purchase, following a thousand leads. They hacked into the libraries, even the bookmobiles, for books by Austen, Bronte, Hardy, being checked out by anyone and hunted down every lead.

And then, one day, they learned that an older woman had checked out several such volumes. The name, the description, nothing fit but again, they could afford to let nothing go unchecked so they hunted down Margaret Morris on the very off chance that she was sharing her books with a friend who couldn't use a library card.

It was a long shot…always a long shot.

But long shots were all they had these days.

CHRISTIAN

Jane Doe's death had really knocked the wind out of Christian. Gail's injection had afforded him hours of rest without nightmares but still, he had to wake up to reality. And that reality sat in his chest like lead. Only by sitting in a chair staring out his bedroom window could he keep the overwhelming dread at bay for a bit. As long as he didn't move, he'd be okay.

Flynn came by but Christian couldn't hear him so eventually Flynn left.

Christian began to think that perhaps Ana really was dead. That would explain her absence when he needed her so. But the moment he let the thought in that she was truly beyond his reach he had to reject it or he would be completely lost.

Taylor came by to tell him over and over that she would be found. "I promise you, Christian, I'll find her. I will find her." And Grey found that he clung to that promise. It was all he had.

Ros no long hounded him to "snap" out of it and reclaim his inner demon. She no longer berated him to be Christian Grey again. Ros had met Ana often and, of course, been charmed like everyone else. And like everyone else, she was pleased and grateful for her boss's good moods. She simply assured him that she could handle the company for now and until he could come back to it.

He nodded. It was all he had to give.

He could do nothing more than think of Ana and remember. Flynn had told him to think about what had gone wrong and how to fix it. Well, he couldn't fix it right now but he could think about what had gone wrong. And he wanted to think about Ana.

By the time he'd gotten her to move in with him, he'd long stopped thinking of her as a submissive. She was his girlfriend, his lover. He didn't think of their relationship as a sexual arrangement and he didn't think about endings. Ana was with him and would always be. It was clear to him that she didn't like playroom activities so he locked the door and took the key from his pocket where he'd always kept it and instead sealed it away in his safe. He began to think of dismantling the Red Room.

Elena called almost daily. He let her calls go to voice mail at first but then he just automatically deleted them. Finally, he sent her one last text to say that he was done with the "life", wished her well and goodbye. Then he blocked her number. From time to time she would try to get into Escala and would argue and yell at the security who refused to give her the elevator codes. She sent him emails..pleading, inventing crises, threatening exposure…he ignored all of it. He probably should have taken her threats more seriously. After all, without his financial backing, she would lose her business but he would not continue letting her run his life. If she decided to get even in some way, then he'd deal with it. But now he just wanted to be with Ana. Nothing else mattered.

The penthouse was filled with light…the light of Ana. No matter her mood, she filled the cold rooms with her warmth, with so much life. They were never far from each other. He couldn't tolerate much distance. He no longer shut himself up in his study. If he needed to work, he picked up his laptop and moved to wherever Ana was. Even if she was just taking a nap, he'd settle himself near by. He needed to touch her, even if he was just rubbing her back. He found it difficult to take his eyes off her. Her beauty mesmerized him and when she'd look up from her manuscripts, her eyes would hold his. He couldn't look away.

Because it was just how he always was with Ana at home, he didn't realize how it appeared to others. When they were at his parent's house for Sunday brunch, Elliot would tease him, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. Mia adored Ana, even tho' she felt jealous that the big brother who'd always given her most of his attention now seemed to see no one but Ana. And his mother, well…Grace was so beyond happy that her once grim son now smiled and laughed that she loved Ana just for existing. Ana charmed everyone without even being aware of it, without trying. When he told her that his family loved her, she seemed unconvinced. Aside from her father, no one had ever really noticed her and she didn't understand why these strangers took to her so.

It was also hard for Ana to understand Christian's affection for her. Yes, their sex life just seemed to get better and better. At first, their voracious appetite for each other almost frightened her. Sex itself was so new to her even tho' she liked it but it was the first time in her life that she'd needed someone besides her daddy and she said that she felt helpless in the face of all that need….his and hers. Once, after they'd made love several times over and he'd rolled onto his side, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his legs entwined with hers and their bodies still connected because he couldn't bear to pull away from her, she'd asked him why he wanted to always stay buried inside her. He'd answered with a deep kiss until they were breathless, their faces touching, "because it's home…you're my home."

But he never said that he loved her. She must have known that he did, just by the way his eyes lit up at the sight of her each time they met again when he picked her up from work or when she came home from the hospital. And for her, it was the same. Her body seemed to light up and she had to cross the distance between them as quickly as possible. But when she said that she loved him, he felt sad, undeserving, even unbelieving. Once when she confessed her love for him, he'd grasped her to him and said, "Thank god." Yet he never said the words themselves to her and she never asked.

Is that what he did wrong? he wondered.

FLYNN

"And how are you feeling today?" asked Flynn.

He didn't know why he bothered. The answer was obvious. Grey was, well, gray. Also, thinner.

Christian looked up at Flynn with a What-the-hell-do-you-think? expression.

Well, if he could look snarly, he was at least no longer in shock, thought Flynn. That was an improvement.

"Uh, Taylor might have a lead, a small one," offered Christian.

"Oh, tell me about that,"inquired Flynn.

"Ana likes the British classics. I think I told you that. Anyway, Taylor figured that she wouldn't use a library card because she knows that he could trace it, somehow, I don't know," Grey shrugged, running his hair through his hair. "She's smart as a whip, that one," he smiled. "But, maybe, just maybe, she'd have someone else get their hands on a book for her. I know she can't go long without reading and she didn't take any books with her…so he's had Welch and Carl and their little army of PIs checking every bookstore, library and even bookmobiles in Seattle for any purchases or withdrawals of Austen, Hardy, etc. I'm spending a god damn fortune on this hunt alone.

She's really due a spanking when I get her back."

"Sure, she is," smirked Flynn.

"Yeah, as if," said Christian with a grimace.

"Anyway, most of the books have been claimed by students being forced to read them for classes," grinned Grey, "but there have been no cash purchases by little brown haired girls with brilliant blue eyes. However, a woman withdrew several Austen's and Bronte's from a bookmobile down in the Beacon Hill area. The woman made the remark to the librarian that they weren't for her…that she had a smart little friend who was laid up with the flu and the girl didn't watch tv."

"The Beacon Hill area is a pretty rough part of town," worried Flynn.

"Yeah, it is but Taylor figured that Ana would choose that sort of place to hide out in since she'd lived in a rough neighborhood before moving in with me. Besides, Ana was taught self-defense skills by her dad. Anyway, it's a long shot but this woman works in the area so we're going to check it out this afternoon."

"We're?" asked Flynn.

"Yeah, I can't keep sitting around waiting. I'm not getting any work done. Ros is practically CEO of GEH this last couple of months anyway. Even before Jane Doe I was getting to be useless at the office. I don't know what I'd do without that woman. Her wife isn't happy with the extra workload and hours but I told Ros to hire anybody she wants to help her out. She's been with me since I started the company and knows as much about it as I do. Gwen might want to kill me but Ros is kind of having fun, I think. She likes being a badass," he laughed.

"So, I may as well go on a flying goose chase as mope around the house. Gail is worrying herself to death about me…and her husband…and Ana. We're all in bad shape. I remarked the other night, when I finally understood that I'm not the only one, that maybe I should just give up rather than keep putting everyone through this and got a resounding, "LIKE HELL YOU'LL GIVE UP!"

"Flynn, I did a lot of thinking last week, like you said, about what went wrong, what I did wrong. I thought maybe it was because I never said the words, you know? Do you think that that could have been it? Do you think she ran because I never said that I love her?"

"Well, do you think that you showed her that you loved her?"

"I wondered. I gave up the "life", you know. Did I tell you that?"

"No, you didn't!" marveled Flynn. "When did you do that?"

"Hmmm…pretty soon after she moved in. She never asked me to and she never let on that she was unhappy in the playroom but when I'd ask, she'd just say that she was very grateful for what I was doing for her father and would continue to do whatever I required of her. Geez, I'm pretty thick, I guess, but I finally figured out that in my bed, she was happy. In the playroom, she wasn't and for the first time I realized that giving a woman multiple mind-blowing orgasms isn't enough."

"It isn't?" Flynn's eyebrows shot up…

"Well, for a sub, they are, I guess…but Ana wasn't a sub. She was a woman in love with me and she needed to be treated like she was loved in return. I'm not saying BDSM is suddenly wrong but being tied up with rope and handcuffs and being with a Dom may make some women feel loved but Ana is not that woman. One ordinary vanilla orgasm given with love in our bed meant everything to her. Ropes and spreader bars and floggers, however lovingly yielded, made this particular woman feel used."

"But what about you and your needs? You've been in the life for almost 13 years and you loved it."

"Did I? I mean, love it? I might have needed it once but did it make me actually happy? Certainly not when I compare it to being with Ana. When I put that key in the safe, I was concerned that I'd miss it and maybe resent Ana for it later on so I didn't make any big declarations. I thought, if need be, I could go back to it but the longer I was away from it, the less I thought about it. It was surprisingly easy to go vanilla. I mean, with vanilla all you need is your woman…not a room filled with implements and equipment. I didn't have to plot out hours of scenes necessary to satisfy a sub. And in the red room we didn't talk or laugh or even play. Might surprise you to know, John, that there is no tickling in BDSM," laughed Christian. "Besides, I hadn't actually had a sub for months before I even met Ana. I think I was just over it."

"Oh boy, have to know," teased Flynn, "how has Mrs. Lincoln taken this terribly upsetting turn of events? Please, tell me that she is just beside herself, infuriated, broken-hearted, confu…?"

"Enough!" laughed Grey. "Geez, you've got a mean streak in you."

"Only when it comes to that harridan," snarled Flynn.

"I cut her off, completely. Months ago. Even before orders from my new boss," cracked Grey. "And no, she didn't take it well. She's even threatened me. But I've got equal amounts of blackmail material on her so I'm not concerned about that. Ana was, however….'

CHRISTIAN

God, this is the most adorable woman. I want to lunge at her, tear that t-shirt off her, bite those cute little nipples and rip those panties to pieces. All the panties I've torn off her…she must buy them in bulk, he laughed to himself. He used to buy her expensive matching bra and panty sets…lacy little things that fell apart in his hands but, naturally, the cost bothered her and she went back to buying plain white cotton briefs. He preferred thongs but she told him that if he enjoyed strings stuck up butts so much, he should go buy some for himself to wear.

As for bras, her round little breasts really didn't need supporting and she preferred to "go commando" as she put it. This, of course, drove him crazy and she threatened to start wrapping ace bandages around her chest if he didn't stop grabbing her at every opportunity. He knew that some guys were leg men and some were ass men and some were breast men. He was just an all Ana all the time man.

She was sitting up cross-legged on their bed, with a yellow legal pad on her lap, biting down on a pencil as she thought about the next thing she wanted to write. He was lying on his side, his head propped up by one hand while the other lazily drew a trail up and down her leg. Up her thigh to her panty line and down to her knee and back up to her panty again. She didn't care that he had a painful erection pitching a tent in his pj bottoms. She was on a mission. A mission to protect her man from Mrs. Robinson and her evil plans to destroy him.

"You know, honey, you're the one destroying me right now. I'm in pain and my balls are blue and I need my woman to let me have at her," Christian pleaded.

"Christian, you have to be prepared. You know that that bitch does not make idle threats. She's plotting as you lie there staring up at my private parts. Maybe I should put on pj bottoms, too."

"Wouldn't help. I know your body too well. I could imagine right through a pair of sweat pants. How's about you let me fuck you into insensibility a few times and then after I exhaust you, I'll pick up that legal pad and plot revenge while you get your strength back?

"I think you need to have Welch and his crew break into her private office at the salon and look for a safe or a locked cabinet. Likewise, at her home. Dollars to donuts, she has pictures and videos of you in compromising positions."

"Good idea. Now, I really need to get you into a few compromising positions before I explode."

"Welch also needs to look into any other properties she owns where she could hide blackmail material."

Scribbling furiously, Ana pointed out that Elena had had 13 years to prepare for the eventuality that Christian would rebel against her control. They had only a very short time to countermand her long-time plotting.

"I've been plotting to countermand your resistance to my evil plans for more an hour now and I'm getting nowhere. Elena doesn't stand a chance against you. If I promise to call Welch first thing tomorrow, will you let me put my hands all over you until I make you scream?"

Ana sighed dramatically, rolled her eyes and replied, "oh, all right." Then, smiling devilishly at him, she set the legal pad and the pencil down on the nightstand. She stood up on the bed and reached up under his oversized t-shirt that she always wore to bed and shimmied her cotton briefs slowly over her hips and slid them down her legs. When Christian reached up to grab at them, she quickly pulled them back up again and waggled her finger at him, enjoying his agonized groan as he tried to look up her shirt.

Then she started again, letting the panties slip to her ankles.

"Would you mind helping me?" she indicated to her lassoed ankles, while she leaned on his upraised hand and lifted first one foot and then the other, kicking the panties to the floor. Then she fell to her knees and, taking the hem of the shirt, lifted it over her head. As he stared at her, bug-eyed, she smiled and coyly asked if she was naked enough. It took him approximately 5 seconds to divest himself of his pj bottoms and to lunge for her.

Tomorrow he'd take care of Elena and her fiendish plans.

ANA

Today. When she woke, she knew that today was time to move on. Her night had been filled with Christian. She couldn't remember the details of the dream, her brain seemed to have taken a holiday, but she did remember his name, his face. And for a reason she didn't understand, this told her to go, now.

She dreaded having to say goodbye to Mac and Margaret. He would demand answers and plans and a destination and she had none. It was getting harder to think and she had to move. She was a prisoner again. Her daddy. Why didn't he come for her like he had before? She would have to go to him.

Then her brain returned and she knew that there was only one way to go to him but she'd made a promise…to live and live well.

She had been living with Christian for several months. He had continued to look for treatments and specialists but Ray kept dying. She was growing more desperate and her moods more erratic.

Christian had assigned her a close protection officer named Luke Sawyer. He said that she needed a CPO because people knew about her now. She was pictured with Christian at his mother's charity gala, leaving his car in the morning and being picked up in the evening, walking with his arm around her on the way to his boat, lunching at the deli and a dozen other times. A picture of the Prince of Seattle with a girl was worth a good amount for the tabloids. People knew her face and her name and now she too was receiving threats. They knew about Ray and so Christian had posted a guard outside his room. Every day Sawyer had to help her through a phalanx of paparazzi who posted themselves outside the hospital portal. Using his connections and wealth, Grey had managed to get an order that photographers had to stay at least 500 feet from the entrance but that meant little to someone with a high power zoom lens. And the tabloids could write anything they wanted. Christian might make them pay dearly for it but not before the lies sold a million copies.

First she was his girlfriend. Then she was his beard, they said, to counter the longtime suspicion that he was gay. Next she was a kept woman. That last lie became closer to the truth when she stopped going to work and began spending all her time at the hospital. Christian was understanding about that. He arranged for a bed to be set up in Ray's room so that Ana could stay the night if she wished. She knew that Christian missed her, wanted her home with him. Sometimes he asked if he could come with her, keep her company. She wanted Ray all to herself but she didn't let on to Christian. They had a deal and she was failing her end of it badly. So when he asked, she welcomed him and lay in his arms, watching her father and feeling Christian's warm breath on her shoulder as he slept.

Ray was in and out of consciousness and the doctors told her that he was in no pain. His body was just letting go. When he woke up, she was there. He'd be confused a lot and even failed to recognize her sometimes. Those were the hardest moments. He'd feel frightened and she'd have to leave while a nurse would comfort him. Sawyer would bring her home and she would try to be cheerful for Christian. She would love him until he fell asleep but he'd wake without her and find her standing on the terrace…often soaked in the rain. She would say odd things. She would apologize for not giving him enough and cry, saying that she didn't know how to ever repay him. She would plead with him to keep helping her daddy even tho' she hadn't done everything she was supposed to do.

Christian didn't understand what she was saying. He'd long ago forgotten that he'd coerced her into living with him, sleeping with him, making a deal with her for her father's chance at life. To him, they were just a couple. Normalcy that he'd never expected to have with anyone and now took for granted. He felt her love for him and it simply didn't occur to him that she any longer took seriously the bargain he'd made for that love. After all, he'd torn up the contract their first night together. He'd left the life and rejected Elena.

He didn't know that Ana, tho' she'd fallen in love with him, still remembered why she was with him and thought that he remembered, too. No matter how kind he was to her, she was indebted and she believed him to think so as well. She lived constantly with the fear that he would one day either tire of her or terminate their relationship as he had always done with his other subs.

When, finally, Ray had died, she had asked Christian for a final tally of all he'd spent on her father's care in those last months. Christian had been surprised and said that he had no idea. Why would she want to know that? She said that she needed to know how much she still owed and was stunned at Christian's anger. He was furious that she thought of herself as something he'd bought. You are mine, he'd yelled. I take care of what is mine! She wasn't afraid of his anger. He couldn't threaten to withhold pain medication, for instance….not that he ever had. They had had their share of disagreements and even a couple of screaming matches but he'd never even hinted at denying care for Ray if Ana failed to cooperate with him. And, truth to tell, Ana had never feared that he would, not really. But as her father's death had loomed nearer, Ana had grown ever more fearful of everything. Christian asked nothing of her, gave her anything he could think of that would make her happy and yet her paranoia grew.

By mine, Christian meant his to have and to hold and to always care for but to Ana it meant that she was his prisoner, one who could never hope to pay off her debt. No matter that they had been so happy together, it was on his terms. She couldn't walk away until he let her go. But why would she want to go? she tried to reason. She loved him and she felt loved by him even if he never said the words. Their life together was good, wasn't it? Still, as the pain and fear of her daddy's death closed in on her, her mind kept going back to that night on the terrace when she'd sold herself to Grey. As he cuddled her close now, as he promised to always take care of her, all she heard was the offer she couldn't refuse. She envisioned her father watching her from on high, now aware that she'd prostituted herself for him and feeling ashamed of her.

And the only thought that made sense to her, the only way she saw forward now without the only person who'd ever loved her, was escape.

CHRISTIAN

After leaving Flynn's office, heading for northern Beacon Hill, Christian stared out the window of the Mercedes. He wished he'd told Ana that he loved her, that he wanted a future with her. Maybe it would have made a difference. Maybe she wouldn't have found it possible to leave him if he'd told her that he couldn't live without her. He honestly couldn't remember if he'd ever used those words exactly. Even with Ray's health issues always looming over their happiness, he knew, he was certain, that they had indeed been happy with each other. He'd never thought such contentment would be possible for him and Ana seemed to shine when she was with him. Yes, there were times when he'd catch a look on her face that he knew meant that she was thinking about Ray but then he'd wrap his arms around her and she'd sigh sweetly.

That last month, when the doctors made it clear that there was no longer any hope, when even Ray tried to prepare Ana for his passing, Christian could see the change in Ana. She would beam at him as he came through the foyer doors after work and talk animately with him during dinner, asking him about his day, but he could see that she just pushed around the food on her plate. She would excuse herself to take a shower and he didn't press her to bath with him as usual because he knew that she needed to be alone to cry. Afterward, she would join him on the couch, nestle into his arms and he'd pretend to believe her when she said that she felt better. If he encouraged her to express her feelings, she would refuse and say that she felt better just being with him. He didn't know if he should push her or leave her be.

Much of the time he didn't understand what was going on with her. Sometimes he was afraid that she was going a little crazy. He'd find her on the terrace at 3 am, standing in a drizzle and staring as if she was unaware of what she was doing. He began to lock the balcony doors at night.

If he hadn't felt unwelcome, he would have insisted on being with her every minute. He didn't want to crowd her but he was truly becoming unsure of her stability. When she began spending every minute at the hospital, he put a bed in Ray's room and posted Sawyer or Ryan at the door even at night to keep an eye on her. He didn't sleep without her so he'd call every couple of hours to ask about her. Sometimes, tho' he knew she was only tolerating his presence, he'd stay the night with her. He needed to sleep. He needed to know that she slept.

It was actually a relief when Ray did die, when that part of the ordeal was over and Christian hoped that the healing could begin. Ana didn't fight him when he carried her away from her father's body and home to Escala. She curled limply in his arms and allowed him to bath her and put her to bed. He was relieved when he knew that she'd fallen asleep.

He arranged for the funeral and made sure to notify Ray's old military unit so that the service didn't seem so empty of mourners…not that Ana seemed aware. Christian dressed her and kept his arm around her while she acknowledged nothing. She flinched when taps were played and Ray's unit gave him a 21 gun salute. She seemed to accept the folded flag laid on her lap but didn't notice when it slipped to the ground. Christian picked it up and she leaned against his shoulder. She began to shake as the casket was lowered into the vault. Then she stood looking down and made no move to walk away even as the cemetery workers waited for them to leave so that they could begin the burial. Finally, again, Christian had to carry Ana away from the grave, away from her father for the last time.

For days he had to bathe her, dress her, feed her, put her to bed and get her up in the morning. She was like a doll, unaware of anything. Slowly she began to emerge, to notice him and then to look into his eyes. One day she took his hand and let him lead her outside to a park along the water. They walked for several blocks and she smiled at him when he gave her bread to feed the ducks. He made quacking sounds to amuse her and she giggled. God, how he'd missed that sound. He began to breathe again. Maybe they'd be all right. Maybe Ana would be all right.

A couple of weeks after the funeral, Christian had to attend a meeting in New York City. It wasn't one he could get out of but he didn't want to leave Ana so he convinced her to come along. He would finish with work as quickly as possible and then he would devote himself to entertaining his beautiful girlfriend with all that the city had to offer. To his surprise, she was excited about the trip. She was coming back to him and he could have cried with joy. When she caught a flu bug at the last minute, he didn't want to make the trip but she pushed him to go. She wanted to suffer in peace, she said. It was one night and he'd call when he landed. He left with a heavy heart and an uneasy feeling. It was one he should have heeded. He left not knowing that he wouldn't know another moment's peace for months to come.

BEACON HILL

The last time that Grey had ventured into one of Seattle's dicier neighborhoods had been the night he'd driven to Ana's old apartment. That night he purchased her virginity with a deal about which he later felt ambivalent. Crass but effective. If only he'd known enough then to woo Ana instead of buying her. He still didn't realize how badly he misunderstood her horror of his offer and how it had lead to her fleeing from him.

The bookmobile driver was pleased to accept a donation for the information that the book borrower was one Margaret Morris who worked at the local GoodWill store and the manager of the GoodWill store was happy to accept a hefty donation in return for the address of Margaret Morris. Mrs. Morris was not at home but her neighbor knew that she was working today at Mac's Diner two blocks north and, yes, he appreciated the monetary reward for the information. No doubt Mrs. Morris would be only too happy to accept a donation to her bank account in return for the whereabouts of the "smart" girl who liked to read Austen. Money was talking up a storm today.

While the exterior of the ancient diner was in need of an update, the interior was surprisingly charming. Bright yellow walls, checkered table cloths….vases holding bunches of dandelions. Grey froze. He felt his heart lurch. Taylor noticed the sudden change in his boss's demeanor and followed his gaze to the tables. What now? He pulled out a chair and motioned for Grey to sit while he looked around for Mrs. Morris.

A bulky fellow who put Grey in mind of a down-market Flynn walked up to the table, carrying a pad and pencil. He wore an expression of astonishment at the sight of two such well-dressed, elegant men visiting his diner.

"Well, to what do I owe the honor?" grunted Mac. Taylor had to smile. He imagined that he and Grey did look odd in this establishment. "You guys from the IRS?" snarled Mac. He was doing good business now so, natch, the government would come around looking for its cut. The one with the buzz cut looked okay but the fancier one was just staring at the table top with an expression Mac couldn't quite place. Then the pretty boy pointed at the vase and spoke, demanding to know where the flowers had come from. "What? You never seen a weed before? They grow everywhere. My waitress thinks they're flowers, too." Mac laughed, "says they're under appreciated, if you can believe that!"

Grey jumped to his feet and got in Mac's face. "Where is she? Where is Ana!?"

Mac backed up and put his hand up to warn the man off. "Hey, there, buddy! You better settle down now."

"Tell me where she is!" Grey's face was red and threatening.

"Well, now," said Mac, trying to be calm. "I don't know anyone named Ana. My waitress is named Rose and she's off-limits to scary men so you'd better just sit back down and remember your manners, ya hear?"

"Mac, what is going on over here?" asked an alarmed-looking older woman.

"I'm not sure," replied Mac, "but this fellow is looking for someone named Ana. Do we have any customers named Ana, Margaret?"

Taylor wasn't sure what Grey was freaking out about but he put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at Margaret.

"Are you Mrs. Morris, by chance?" he politely asked.

"I think they're from the IRS, Margaret. Don't say a thing," warned Mac.

"No, sir, we're not from the government. We're looking for a young lady, a friend of our's and we wondered if Mrs. Morris might have some idea of her whereabouts. We're very concerned about her and have been looking for her for some time. Did you, by chance, withdraw library books for her recently? She's a big fan of Austen and the Bronte's." probed Taylor.

Mac cast a look at Margaret and they walked several feet away to whisper. Taylor was still holding his hand on Grey's shoulder and cautioning him to be cool. He could see that Christian was ready to jump out of his skin.

"Ana liked dandelions. She thinks they're unappreciated." Grey said with a shaky voice.

"I know that, sir. She's got Gail sticking them around our apartment, too," chuckled Taylor, "but we don't want to frighten these people. And before you suggest it, I don't think a "donation" is going to get us anywhere here. Let me handle this, please."

Mac and Margaret came back to the table and sat down.

"First things, first," growled Mac. "What do you want with our little Rose and no lies. Look around. We've got a restaurant full of big, tough guys who will flatten you if you try to harm that girl. Talk fast and smart."

"The young woman we're inquiring after is 22, long brown hair and blue eyes. Very pretty, sweet, gentle. She is this man's girlfriend and she's been thru a trauma. We've been searching for her for months."

"And who are you, anyway?" asked Margaret.

"My name is Jason Taylor and this is Christian Grey. I assure you that the girl you call Rose is very dear to Mr. Grey and, indeed, to my wife and me. We mean her no harm. Her full name, if she is our friend, is Anastasia Rose Steele."

"What kind of trauma you talkin' about?" asked Mac. "Rose never mentioned no "trauma" to me. Just said that she was hiding out from her ex."

"Her father died following a long illness," said Christian. "He was her only family and the combination of his death and the long road getting there wore her out, body and soul. Her mind"….he trailed off, looking helplessly at Taylor.

"We think that she snapped," spoke up Taylor. "She is a highly intelligent woman and rather selfless. She would be good at disguising her pain. Had we realized that she was in so much trouble, we would have gotten her the help she needed but"….

He looked at Christian. "We should have listened to your mother and Gail, I guess, but we just figured that she was getting better."

"Look, we understand that you're trying to protect her. She brings that out in people." Taylor motioned to Christian to hand over his wallet. This is her picture and this is my identification and this is Mr. Grey's. We can supply endorsements as to our character from several sources, including the police."

"Huh," snorted Mac. "I'm sure you rich folks have well-connected "character references," he said, as he stared at Rose's picture.

"Mac," soothed Margaret, "look at this young man's face. He's frantic and obviously loves this girl. I'm going to go speak with Rose and let her decide if she wants to see him as long as he promises to abide by her decision, okay?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. There are enough guys in here to shuffle him out if he tries to force the issue."

Margaret turned and headed for the back stairs.

"You know," Mac said as he held up Ana's picture. "I found this girl sleeping behind my dumpster awhile back. She was just a filthy, skinny thing who could barely stand. I kinda took her under my wing and she, in turn, made this old diner into a fine restaurant. Everyone here just loves her to pieces, including all the homeless in the neighborhood who get leftovers delivered to them every night. I'm not crazy about that but I know that they'd never hurt her."

Grey smiled wistfully. "When I met her, she was living in a dump in a bad area, giving money to poor drug dealers and seeing to it that the drunk next door got off the stairs and into his bed each night. Not surprised to hear that she's feeding the local homeless."

Each man was lost in his own thoughts for a moment when Margaret came back to the table, looking distraught. She held out an envelope addressed to Mac. "She's gone. The books were sitting on the bed and the bed's made. I don't think she slept here last night. The window to the fire escape is unlocked."

Mac and Grey looked stricken as Mac opened the envelope. He studied the enclosed message for a minute until Grey impatiently urged him to reveal its contents. Mac shook his head and then thrust the paper at Grey.

"You tell me. Is this some kind of code?"

"I can make out 'Dear Mac'…but this isn't Ana's writing, I don't think. It's all scribbly. I can make out a few of the words but most of it is senseless."

Grey handed the letter to Taylor who studied it carefully. "I can understand why you think it's code, Mac. Letters are upside down and backward. I can tell that pressure was applied as if the writer was having a hard time holding the pen to the paper. This, however, is quite telling," said Taylor as he held the paper out to Grey, pointing at the bottom of the paper.

There were three words written faintly, "Christian, Christian, Christian", said Grey. Besides the initial greeting to Mac, they were the only words that made sense.

Taylor was already on his phone, getting as many of his men as possible out on the streets of Beacon Hill. Grey kept looking at the letter.

"We've been worried about Ana's state of mind," he said to Mac and Margaret. "Did either of you notice anything wrong?"

"Well, Rose always played things pretty close to the vest. It took a lot to get her to talk about personal stuff. She was never in a bad mood but sometimes I'd catch her staring off into space and she wouldn't seem to hear me when I talked to her. Lately, she's been more closed off. I knew that she'd be taking off fairly soon. She was getting nervous about being recognized, what with all the new business and how the diner was making a name for itself just because of her. People started coming in, asking for her, esp. the guys," chuckled Mac.

"What do you mean," growled Christian, "were men bothering her?"

"No, no," Mac reassured him, "nothing like that. The guys around here were more protective of her. She didn't allow misbehavior and the men respected her. There was no funny stuff. Heck, I'm sure a lot of them would have loved to date her but they treated her like a little sister. She had them all washing up before setting down and all of the "effing this and effing that" stopped when she walked into the room. And I bet you won't find a cleaner, nicer restroom at that Mile High Club," guffawed Mac.

Margaret began laughing as well. "Oh, yeah, these guys know to watch their aim in there!"

"And," roared Mac, "she made me put in one of those hanging diaper things. You know, the contraptions that you set a baby on while you change its diaper? Once we started getting in the family trade, Rose said people shouldn't have to put their babies on the floor. Heck, I don't know why not. She kept that restroom so clean you could've eaten off the floor."

"Yeah," sighed Mac. "I tried to get her to slow down, not work so hard…but she said that she needed to keep busy. I worried about her. Even tho' I made sure to get her to eat, she seemed to just get thinner."

"And it wasn't just that," said Margaret, "it was the headaches that worried me. She tried to hide them but my late husband used to get migraines so I recognized the signs. She'd slip off to the back room and I'd find her holding her head and curled into a ball, breathing real hard. Sometimes they'd be so bad she'd go upstairs and I'd follow "cause I was scared for her and I'd hear her vomiting."

Grey shot Taylor a look of alarm. "Did she go to a doctor?"

"Doctors cost money and the free clinic is always so busy. Rose would say that there were people with far worse problems who should take up the doctors' time. Even when she got sick with the flu recently, she wouldn't let us take her to the clinic. I got the feeling that she didn't care much for doctors anyway. Some people are like that, you know, and Rose was real independent," said Margaret.

"It was hard to get her to accept help with anything," conceded Mac. "I came by after closing up one night 'cause I'd forgotten my reading glasses and found her passed out on the floor. She had been scrubbing and just fainted dead away. I don't know how long she'd been out but she claimed it was just a moment or two and that she'd just tried to get up too fast. Well, I knew that was bullshit but there was no use arguing. I got her to go up to bed by threatening to just stick around but I can't say that she didn't come right back down after I left. Damn frustrating woman sometimes."

Grey nodded quietly, looking down at the dandelions. Taylor decided that all this reminiscing wasn't doing Grey any good; he needed to get him back in the car. "Sir, let's take a drive around the area, what do you think?"

Grey took a deep breath and rose from his chair. "If you hear anything, anything at all, however trivial you think it might be, please call me," he implored, "please. I've got to find her." He slid his business card with his personal cell number across the table. Mac and Margaret looked up at Christian and said, "Sure, of course. Try to not worry too much. She's a very strong and resourceful woman. She can take care of herself."

Grey just answered sadly, "That should be my job".

"We were so close, Jason, so close".

"Well, sir, we are still close. It's been less then 24 hours. She can't have gotten far. She's being so careful about being tracked that she's probably still on foot."

"That's just it, Taylor, "said Christian, "she's sick and she's just wandering. She could easily walk in front of a truck. Someone could attack her, leave her in alley where no one would find her." Taylor looked in the rearview mirror. He could see his boss beginning to hyperventilate. "Sir, you have to take slow, deep breaths, please. I need you to be all right so I can concentrate on finding Ana."

"She never used to get headaches, Jason. I mean, do you remember her getting headaches?"

"No, sir. That must be something new. You know, working in a kitchen, breathing in a lot of cleaning chemicals, that could give a person headaches but she's out in the fresh air now so…."

"Maybe we should be driving up and down alleyways," urged Christian, "just in case she's trying to stay out of sight. It's still daylight. Geez, it'll be night soon, Jason."

"She has money now, sir, and we'll have all the motels and boarding houses in the area being checked. I also have men talking to all the homeless people. It sounds like she made some friends there so they'll be keeping an eye out for her."

"Did you remind the men to be polite toward everyone? If they're protective of her, they may not want to out her to strange men," worried Christian.

"Yes, sir, all our operatives have been thoroughly coached on how to approach everyone."

"We can't put up posters offering rewards, Jason, she might see those."

"I understand that. And no, we haven't put up any posters. All our efforts have been as low-key as possible. And before you even worry about it, I can assure you none of my men are out there wearing suits and ties. I even have people posing as homeless themselves."

"Good, good," Christian said, taking in a slow breath.

"Sir, there's really nothing more that we can do here today. I suggest we go home, have a good meal and get some rest."

Through the rearview mirror, Jason could see Christian staring intently out the window, looking for any sign of Ana. He hadn't heard a word.

"Sir, sir?" prodded Taylor, "I'm heading home now."

Christian slumped back and then lowered his head into his hands. "I think that I'm going out of my mind, too, Jason. What if I never find her? I can't live without her much longer before…." he trailed off with Jason wondering what he meant to say. Great, he thought, I might have to deal with two potential suicides.

He checked his left side mirror before changing lanes. Grey continued leaning into his hands. And, thus, they both missed the small brunette leaning against the lamp post with her hands holding tight against her head and her eyes squeezed shut.

ANA

Whoa. That was the worst one yet. Where am I? she wondered. It was dark. Why? Am I in a dark place or is it night? She was finding it more and more difficult to think clearly. She didn't think that she was in her little apartment above the diner because it was never completely dark there. Street lights from the alley poured in all night until they were replaced by daylight. She didn't feel air moving around her and while she could hear rain, she was dry. So, she thought, I must be inside somewhere. Where? Oh, she felt such weariness. It wasn't worth the trouble to figure out where she was. Her head didn't hurt anymore. She could sleep now. Yes, that would help. Sleep. When she woke up again, she could figure everything out, make plans. Plans? Why did she need to make plans again? Never mind. The darkness was comforting. She would just stay in the darkness. Yes, that was a plan. Wasn't it?

CHRISTIAN

Ana was smiling at him. His heart felt light. Then her smile turned to confusion and her eyes pinched together in pain. He tried to talk to her but she couldn't hear him. Just come to me, he begged her. She seemed to move further away and she was crying. He couldn't reach her. Terror overtook him.

His eyes flew open. His t-shirt was soaked. His hair as well. He shot up in bed and reached next to him, then remembered that he was alone. He groaned in pain and let himself cry. It was night and he didn't know where Ana was, if she was safe. No, he did know. She wasn't safe and she wasn't well and he blamed himself. He'd failed her. When she'd first left, he thought only that she'd run away and he had to find her but now he knew that she was more than just gone, she was ill, very ill.

TAYLOR

When he and Grey had come through the foyer doors, Gail was standing there, pale and expectant. No, he shook his head at her. Ana wasn't with them. Gail didn't know why she'd gotten her hopes up. He and Grey sat down together at the breakfast bar and tried to eat. Gail had made them their favorite comfort food, ironically, mac and cheese. Grey never let anything get in the way of a healthy meal but now, after a couple of bites, he sighed and went to his room.

Now Taylor lay in bed with Gail's arms around him. His wonderful wife had tried to love him into a good night's sleep but still he lay awake, exhausted. He gently disentangled himself from her arms and pulled on his sweatpants. He made his way out to the security office to double check with Ryan, who'd pulled night duty. Together they looked over the surveillance footage of Beacon Hill, again, but there wasn't much to see. The run down areas of Beacon Hill didn't rate expensive cameras to protect its residents, not like the Escala neighborhood which, unfairly, had so much private security that it didn't really need city CCTV. There had been no word from the security team posted in Beacon Hill either.

Taylor's greatest fear right now was that Ana had managed to leave the area and he didn't know where to look next. Today had begun with a slight chance but with that frightening letter had ended with more disappointment and fear than they'd started the day. Taylor was so tired, tired to the bone. He headed back to his wife, his heart aching for Christian who had nothing.

ANA

I'm awake, right? I think I'm awake but it is still dark. Her body ached. What was she lying on? Stairs. She reached around her for a railing and then tried to stand up but she bumped her head against something metal and fell back to sit on the step. She began to panic. A railing to her right and a railing to her left and a low metal ceiling. The only other way was down but there was blackness below. What was in the blackness? Where was Christian? Suddenly there was a thunderclap in her head and she cried out in pain. No. No. But then the comforting darkness enveloped her again.

TAYLOR

It was barely dawn and Taylor knew he'd only slept a couple of hours. He'd heard Christian yelling and then the piano. Gail stirred and opened her eyes. She kissed him and asked if he'd slept at all. Yeah, he said and lied that he felt better. He watched as Gail slipped on her robe and left him to begin her day. It bothered him that she worked such long hours but that was the way she wanted it. Christian had told her time and again to work 8 to 5 like normal people and she had to laugh. Between her, the security detail and Grey himself, no one at Escala worked "normal" hours. And since Ana had left, nothing was normal period. Gail tried her best to provide a routine, something dependable that her boss could hold on to. Taylor smiled to himself. He counted himself a very fortunate man. That woman just hung the moon.

CHRISTIAN

He opened his eyes to a beautiful pink dawn and his body feeling the effects of sleeping at the piano. He could hear Gail puttering about. Good grief, why would that woman not stay in bed until a decent hour? Taylor would be up any minute, too. Ana was the only one who slept in and she had to be forced to get up. He sat up and stretched. He could either go to his study and get some work done or he could crawl back into bed with Ana. He smiled to himself. No contest. Wait, why was he out here anyway? And then reality slammed back into him as he remembered that Ana wasn't in their bed.

Maybe there was some news? He strode quickly to the security office and found Ryan half asleep. The surveillance videos showed little activity at this hour. Garbage men, a couple of guys carrying hard hats, probably on their way to Mac's Diner for breakfast before their day began, an old lady walking her mutt. Beacon Hill was mostly still asleep even as the light crept in.

Christian made his way back to his room. It was just his room now, an empty, useless place where there was no Ana and no sleep. Nice view, tho', he smirked. Whenever he was trying to coax Ana out of bed in the morning, he'd tell her that she had to get up to look at the great view. She'd just growl and pull the duvet over her head. He never tired of the fun of getting Ana either out of or into bed. He picked up her pillow; he never allowed Gail to wash it. He needed her scent.

ANA

Ana woke again to the familiar clang of garbage cans being thrown about. She recalled how that sound had taken some getting used to when she left her cloud in the sky. Escala was so high up that one never heard garbage collectors or much else. Sometimes sirens. When she was home with Ray, she liked to listen to the rain on the roof.

There were deer who came by to lick the salt block Ana left for them near the back door. Ray indulged her fondness for all things flora and fauna. Christian didn't like dogs. Once, on the street, he'd shoved her behind him as a large lab approached. Her knight in shining armor. He'd looked on in horror when she knelt down and hugged the strange beast. Today she'd take him to the animal shelter and they'd pick out a dog.

Ray was gone now, she remembered. Christian was all she had. He was wonderful to her and she hoped that he would never make her leave. She was afraid, tho'. They hadn't been in the playroom for a very long time. Was he bored with her? Maybe he didn't want her anymore. He was such a good man. They were going to New York soon and he'd promised her a carriage ride at night through Central Park. They'd cuddle and kiss. She could hardly wait.

They'd miss Sunday brunch with the Grey family. She'd make it up to Grace. She'd plan a family night at the Mile High Club. Mia especially loved the club. She was going to teach Ana how to cook although Gail had tried and failed so Ana wasn't hopeful.

How had she managed to feed Ray all those years? He was dead now. Maybe her cooking had killed him? Ana began to cry. She couldn't cook a meal for Christian. Maybe she'd kill him, too. He was going to ask her to leave soon. Ray was gone now.

Suddenly there was light from above. Two men in coveralls were staring down at her.

"Did you get stuck in here, lady? Come on, you can't stay here. We have to get to work."

One of them muttered to the other that they would need to padlock this cellar to keep the vagrants out but the other one remarked that this girl didn't seem like a vagrant.

Ana stumbled up the stair and stepped out into the blinding light. She couldn't see for a moment and tripped.

"Yep, we've got some sun out today," said the nice man, "It'll take your eyes a minute to adjust. Careful. Go on your way now."

Ana smiled and said thank you and walked out to the sidewalk. She didn't notice that she'd left her bag at the bottom of the cellar stairs.

Then she heard the thunder again.

CHRISTIAN

After he showered and dressed, he felt lost. He just stood in the doorway of the bedroom and wondered what to do next. Should he go to the office, maybe work? Ros would probably be pissed; he'd just get in her way. She'd singlehandedly pulled off a major acquisition that the Finance Department had been working on for months until Grey got disgusted and took over. However, he hadn't worked much lately….

He didn't want to work. He didn't give a damn about GEH. He was even angry. How many nights had he worked late? How many evenings and weekends had he spent in his damn study when he could have been with Ana? It was true that he'd cut way back but still he could have quit the whole damn thing. Maybe if he'd just shown her that she was the most important thing in his life, she'd still be here.

And his family, the one he'd finally come to appreciate…again, thanks to Ana. He wanted his family to know about Ana. He wanted to take her home on Sunday's and holidays and sometimes they'd just drop in for dinner. His mother was over the moon. His father loved to sit with Ana and talk about books until Mia interrupted to talk about fashion and pastry recipes. Elliot called her "little sis" and seemed to always have his big paws all over Christian's girl, just to get him going. Elliot loved seeing his little brother happy.

Now, Christian rarely came by and when he did, he was back to his old aloof, grumpy self, only worse because he'd had a taste of happiness and knew what he was missing. So, now, his family worried. Everything was messed up without Ana.

"Sir!", yelled Taylor, "Mr. Grey!" Taylor came racing around the corner to the bedroom door. He stopped to catch his breath.

"Sawyer's picked up something on the police scanner. Something about a young woman having a seizure in a park in the bad part of Beacon Hill, the part we drove through yesterday."

Christian braced himself for disappointment. "What makes you think that this could be Ana? That area is full of druggies."

"A crowd had gathered but one of my operatives called in. He said that he got a brief look at her. She's small with long brown hair and, sir, …..she was clutching a bunch of dandelions," Taylor watched Grey's face.

"The police are on their way? Has an ambulance been called?"

"You've seen this neighborhood, sir. It is not a priority. The police will get there eventually but it could take an ambulance an hour. I don't want to be disappointed again either, sir, but I think we need to get there asap. I'm concerned that this girl will get up and walk away."

"Tell your man to stay on her and try to get a better look. Meanwhile, let's move!"

As Christian raced for the elevator, he cautioned himself to remain calm, to be skeptical. After yesterday, another disappointment would crush him. As he sat in the back of the speeding Mercedes, his knee bouncing up and down, he pictured finding a girl lying on the ground, turning her over and looking into the brown eyes of just another lost soul. He imagined the howl coming from his own lost soul.

ANA

Ana tried to suck air into her lungs as she shielded her eyes from the sun but measured breathing wasn't helping. The thunder in her head grew louder and the cracks came faster.

When she was a little girl, her mother would yell at her to shut up when she cried at night as the thunder boomed during fierce storms. Ray would come into her room and gather her up in his arms and promise that her that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. He'd tell her that the angels were bowling and every crash of thunder was an angel making a strike. Bowling can't hurt you, he'd say. You like to bowl, remember? He'd take her to the local alleys and have the manager put up the bumper guards so that Ana's balls never rolled into the gutters. He'd tell her that she was a great bowler. During the storms, she'd remark a bit testily that those angels sure made a lot of strikes and Ray would laugh.

Ray was gone now and Christian was gone, too. No, wait, she was gone. Mac's mac and cheese, she smiled, and then the pain and the nausea and she leaned over and tried to vomit but there was nothing in her stomach so she just dry heaved.

Ahead she could see yellow. The little park across the street had dandelions. She needed to pick some for the diner. She walked across the street, without regard for the traffic, the honking, the angry drivers yelling at her. She couldn't hear them. The thunder in her head was too loud. There they were, the dandelions, the pretty yellow flowers. There were so many. She just wanted to lie down in them. Oh, geez, her head, her head. So many strikes. Ray, tell the angels to stop bowling. It hurts so much. Daddy, make it stop!

"Yes, baby, I'll make it stop…soon. Just try to hold on a little longer. Please, Ana."

"Okay, daddy, I'll be brave. The angels will stop soon, won't they? Promise, daddy?"

Christian sat on the ground, rocking Ana in his arms, tears rolling down his face as he promised to make the angels stop doing whatever they were doing in Ana's head. He had her. He had her.

"Sir, it'll be quite a while before an ambulance gets here. We'll have to take her to the hospital ourselves," urged Taylor as he helped Grey to his feet with Ana in his arms.

He buckled Christian into his seat but he knew he wouldn't get Grey to put Ana down so he'd just have to not crash on the way to Bellevue Medical. As he tore thru the streets, he held the wheel with one hand as he held his phone to his ear with the other. He was breaking safety rules but he knew that Grey didn't notice or care. Taylor informed the hospital that he was incoming, eta 15 minutes with an emergency in need, he believed, of a neurosurgeon. He asked that Dr. Trevelyan be alerted that her son was on his way in with Ana. Taylor would need her to act as a liaison between the medical staff and Christian because there was no relative to speak for Ana. Grace would be able to get information and permission for Christian to be with his girlfriend.

Taylor ran red lights and passed cars on the shoulder. Christian didn't notice. Ana had passed out and he just rocked her and talked to her, begging her to be all right. Her breathing was shallow and her pulse weak. And she was so light, she seemed to weigh nothing. Her alabaster skin was even more pale.

"Please open your eyes, baby. I haven't seen them in so long. I need you to look at me. Please, Ana, baby, please….."

Pacing up and down the waiting room was all Christian could do. Gail sent Ryan over with lunch but neither Taylor nor Grey could touch the food. They were shaking with nerves but it didn't show on Taylor who needed to maintain a professional demeanor.

When they'd arrived, Ana in Christian's arms, the receiving nurse took one look and yelled for a gurney and a doctor somebody. Within seconds, Ana was gone from them again. Now they were waiting for Grace who could maybe tell them what was going on.

The emergency entry doors slid open and Grace flew in, catching Christian in her arms. She was followed by Carrick and Elliot, both with stunned expressions. Mia was in Paris. They'd decided to delay informing her until they were sure what they were dealing with. Grace leaned back and, not quite believing, beseeched Christian, "Is it her, really, are you sure, is it Ana?"

Christian gulped back a sob and nodded.

"Mom, she's really sick. They won't tell me anything even though I told them that she doesn't have anyone else."

"Did you try to call Carla?"

"Really, Mom? You think she'd care? She'd only make it worse."

"Ok, try to be calm".

"Mom, something is wrong with Ana's mind. Look at this letter she wrote," Christian said, handing the paper to his mother.

"Oh, my," gasped Grace.

"I'm going to see what I can find out. I'll be back as soon as possible. That basket over there looks like one of Gail's," she smiled, "Please try to eat something.

Taylor, you have to protect my son and drive. Eat," she commanded.

Taylor nodded and reluctantly opened the basket and picked up a sandwich. He looked up Carrick and Elliot but neither was hungry.

He looked up at Grey, "You have to be strong for Ana. You'd better eat, too," he said, handing a sandwich to his boss, who looked at it like it was a foreign object and then just held it in his hand as he paced.

Taylor sighed and squared his shoulders. "You haven't slept, you haven't eaten and you're sick with worry. Don't make me shove that down your throat. Sir".

Christian slowly took a bite.

GRACE

She raced madly through the corridors. Why was this place so damn big? Why were the elevators so damn slow? Her son gave a lot of money to this hospital. She'd have to see if he could do something about the elevators.

She knew she had to be calm but they'd all been so worried for so long and watching Christian fall about and being helpless to stop it….

Finally she stepped out on the surgical floor. She cornered a nurse, flashing her badge and tried to get information, she said, about one of her patients, Anastasia Steele. The nurse, fully versed in HIPAA rules hesitated for a moment but, heck, this was a doctor and the nurse was in a hurry so she pointed Grace toward theatre 4. Grace scrubbed up, gloved up, masked up and stepped inside. There was Ana. It really was her. Oh, thank god. But she was also deathly pale and her skull was open and the surgeon was very intense. Usually, if a surgery was routine or not so worrisome, the surgeons would play music and sing along or there would be chatter about golf games and weekend boating plans but there was no music and no chatter.

One of the nurses approached her and asked why Grace was there. Grace explained that she needed to know what was happening with her friend. The nurse, who wasn't needed just at that moment, took Grace's arm and guided her to the scrub room. There she very gently explained that the young lady had a cluster of small tumors. Though, of course, they would have to wait on the pathologist report, the tumors did not appear cancerous. This was good, thought Grace. On the other hand, explained the nurse, the damage did appear extensive. There had been bleeding, swelling and even, it appeared, a small but burst aneurysm. It seemed that the patient had been ill and gone untreated for quite some time. The nurse couldn't tell Grace anymore and she had to get back in. She asked that Grace not let the doctor know that she'd been sharing information as that would get her in hot water. Grace squeezed the nurse's hand and expressed her gratitude and promised her discretion.

As she left the theater, Grace left instruction at the desk for the surgeon to contact her asap. Then she thanked god for the slow elevators and the long and winding corridors because she certainly didn't want to share her information with Christian.

"Mom!" cried Christian. He was frantic. Her heart broke for him.

"Ana is still in surgery. There are tumors being removed. We'll have to wait for her surgeon to explain further and give us a prognosis. Grace said all this calmly while inside she shook, not knowing if Ana would even survive the surgery. She couldn't let on how serious it all really was. No music. No chatter.

Just Ana. White as the sheet covering her, her skull open and a nurse vacuuming up blood.

CHRISTIAN

Hours passed. Grace, Taylor and Christian, too exhausted to stay on his feet, slumped in the waiting room chairs, periodically nibbling on the sandwiches packed by Gail. Grace held Christian's hand, reassuring him that most surgeries lasted quite awhile.

Taylor called Gail to update her on the nothing that was happening.

When a doctor appeared, shedding bloodied gloves and wearing a bloodied gown as he came through the doors and looked about the waiting room, they jumped to their feet. He motioned for them to sit again.

"I'm Dr. Albright. I'm sorry for my disturbing appearance. Usually I strip off my gown and gloves before coming down to speak to the families of patients but I was told that you were here, Dr. Trevelyan, and I didn't want to keep you waiting a second longer than necessary. You were a great help to my family last year when my daughter contracted meningitis.

Now, to the point. Ana was in critical condition when you brought her in. I'm told that you'd been looking for her. It is certainly fortunate that you found her in time. She wouldn't have lasted many more hours.

She had a cluster of small tumors. That's why the surgery took so long. We had to take the utmost care to remove each tumor without disturbing the surrounding brain tissue. She also had a small bleed from a burst aneurysm. That happened some time ago, perhaps several weeks. Did you notice any unusual changes in her behavior within, say, the last 3 months? Confusion, depression, withdrawal, ill temper? Did she seem more tired than usual? Did she complain of headaches?"

"Ana was very good at hiding her true feelings," sighed Christian. "She would bury her nose in a book to distract me. It wasn't that she was selfish. It was that she was so good and didn't want to burden others with her troubles. It took a lot to get her to open up. She did seem out of it sometimes, though. I put it down to her father's ill health. He died a few months ago and it wounded her so that she couldn't hide it. It broke her, to tell the truth.

I had a trip to New York that I couldn't avoid but I wanted to take her along. I thought the change of scenery, a few days vacation….he trailed off and then burst with anger as he jumped to his feet with his hands tearing through his hair.

"I was so stupid. I thought a fucking carriage ride would fix everything!" he yelled.

The surgeon looked lost for a moment as Grace urged Christian to sit back down.

"Breathe, honey, breathe."

Christian looked at the surgeon, immeasurable pain in his eyes.

"Is Ana going to be alright?" he asked in a quiet, almost timid voice. "Will she live?"

"Well, the surgery was a success, yes. However, her general weakened condition is a concern."

"What do you mean?" asked Taylor.

"Well, she's malnourished for starters. Underweight. Quite weak. If it hadn't been necessary to save her life, I would not have taken her directly to surgery. She was, to say the least, not a good candidate for brain surgery in her present condition. I'm frankly surprised and gratified that she even made it through surgery."

Christian smiled with pride, "My Ana is a fighter."

"Yes, she is," agreed Dr. Albright, "And let's hope that she continues to fight. I will caution you, however, to keep your hopes realistic.

She is exceedingly weak. She has swelling in her brain. Her blood pressure is unstable. At this point, it will be touch and go. If she can make it through the next 72 hours, I'll be more hopeful. I'll be honest with you; she is not my most promising patient."

"I need to see her. Can I go see her now?" pleaded Christian.

"No, I'm sorry, you can't," replied the doctor. "Ana is in recovery right now and will be for some time. Then she will be moved into the ICU for an indeterminate period of time. I can't, at this point, tell you when we'll feel confident enough to move her into a regular room."

"I just want to look at her, please." Christian was ready to get down on his knees for a glimpse of his Ana.

"Christian," said Grace, trying to explain and placate," no one is allowed into recovery. We'll see what we can do about getting you permission, as a non-relation, to see her when she's transferred to the ICU."

"Since she has no one else, perhaps you can get power of attorney, Mr. Grey. That would be something that you could look into while she's inaccessible to you. Otherwise, even with your mother's influence, Ana could remain off-limits. I'll be keeping an eye on her, of course, and will call you, Dr. Trevelyan, with any news."

Dr. Albright stood to take his leave. Christian grasped his hand, tightly, and expressed his thanks. Grace slipped her cell number into the surgeon hands and asked him about his daughter's health. Taylor breathed raggedly and stepped aside to call Gail.

Then he call GEH and asked Andrea to see if any of Grey's current roster of lawyers knew how to get him power-of-attorney…ASAP.

Grace didn't have an upcoming shift so the three left the hospital together. She somehow persuaded her son to come home with her and sent Taylor home to his wife. He'd only been able to give his wife the bare details so he knew he was in for a deep interrogation. As he drove from the Grey's mansion, he smiled to himself. Gail could have worked for the CIA. Any black-hearted crook would have looked into her sweet blue eyes and confessed everything and anything. Taylor was so, so tired but he needed to talk to Gail. She'd get him to eat a full meal, take a long shower and sleep for eight hours. She was quite a persuasive woman, esp. when it came to her husband. Yep, she just hung the moon.

Grace took hold of her son's arm and led him into the house. He seemed to be in a trance. She had him sit down in the kitchen and put a bowl of Cinnamon Crunch in front of him. It had been his favorite cereal as a child but he wouldn't approve of the sugar content now. Everything had to be sugar-free and low-carb for Christian Grey, the health-nut. Still, this was comfort food. Grace poured milk on the cereal and put a spoon in her little boy's hand and he automatically ate. If he'd had any awareness of what he was doing, his mother smiled to herself, he would have been appalled….but his head was in the hospital, with Ana.

"Mom, what do you really think?" he asked as he crunched. "Is Ana going to make it?"

"Well, you know, when you first brought her home, of course, we were all astonished. You know, because, yes, she was a girl, for heaven's sake!" laughed Grace. I mean, for so many years, we would have been happy if you'd walked through the door with a nice young man on your arm. Gosh, there were times, I would have settled for a dog! Anything to see you not alone. But, instead, here was this truly pretty little thing and not only pretty but lovely. Your face was lit up with pride and delight in her presence.

Your father took me aside and asked if I saw what he saw. He remarked that you sure as hell could have warned us because, as he put it, we were all about flat on our asses with shock."

Christian crunched down on another spoonful of cereal and put his hand over his mouth as he laughed, to avoid spewing all over his mother's kitchen.

"I'll never forget the looks on your faces!" he roared. "Geez, you looked like you were about to float and Dad couldn't get his jaw off the floor long enough to say hello to Ana. She stood there with her hand out and looked at me in bewilderment, afraid that you were chagrinned at the sight of her. Then you were all over her like a cheap suit. You'd of thought that she'd given me a kidney!"

"Oh, and Mia's reaction! Do you remember?" asked Grace. "I swear, she scared poor little Ana half to death right there. She's a good 5 inches taller and she just swallowed her up in hug so tight, you had to pull her off so Ana could breathe. Elliot had already met her through Kate and told us not a thing, the brat. He grabbed her in a bear hug, called her Ana banana and you scowled at him to get his big paws off of your girl while Elliot's girl, Kate, just howled.

Yes, it was quite the introduction to the family. Ana was blushing and trying to catch her breath and she looked completely perplexed. She probably wondered if we did expect a kidney donation!"

Christian polished off his bowl of Cinnamon Crunch and put the dish in the sink.

"I hadn't know her long, you know, and didn't even understand why I brought her home to you. I didn't know then that I had already fallen in love and your reaction both terrified me and thrilled me…kind of like the effect Ana had on me."

"Well," Grace gently smiled, "you certainly looked like a man in love. I don't think you took your eyes off of her the whole meal. You had such an expression of peace and contentment on your face. I'd only ever seen something close to that look when you first held Mia. We bombarded her with questions, esp. Mia, of course, yet Ana was so gracious.

Carrick said later, when we alone and trying to catch our breath, that he thought that this was a girl who could keep up with our gruff and grumpy titan of industry. I was unsure. I pointed out that she was such a quietly unassuming sort of girl that I was afraid that you'd just bulldoze right over her. And you know what he said?

He said, "Grace, she took everything we threw at her all night long and didn't flinch. Mia, alone, could have torpedoed little Ana right under the table but instead, after an hour in her presence, Mia was speaking in a soft voice and not interrupting everyone else constantly. Elliot was talking to her like he'd cornered a fawn in the backyard. She ignored all of Christian's snarling. In fact, Kate was the only one who seemed to overwhelm her a bit.

All of this is by way of telling you, Christian, that Ana is not a wilting flower, no matter how delicate she may appear. She is strong. If anyone can survive whatever it is that she's been through, it's your Ana."

Christian softly smiled. My Ana, he thought.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Yes?"

"I hope that this isn't too early to call but I was told by Jason Taylor that you wanted an answer to your inquiry asap."

"Who are you?" snarled Christian. He really hated when people didn't identify themselves immediately. It could be anyone. It could be a so-called journalist.

"Oh, sorry, sir." The voice sounded nervous. "This is Lionel Parson? I'm one of the attorneys on your GEH legal team? umh…Sir?"

Christian said nothing for a moment, irritably waiting for this Parson person to get on with it. He didn't…so Grey grumbled, "Yes, of course, what can I do for you, Mr. Parson?" In truth, Christian didn't know the majority of his staff and certainly didn't know Parson but just wanted him to stop wasting Grey's time. Grace had badgered him into knocking back a strong sleeping medication and, for once, 8 am was indeed early. He wondered idly if this is what Ana felt like in the mornings when he dragged her out of bed after he'd been up since dawn.

"Well, as I said, Mr. Taylor indicated to me that you were eager to get this information as quickly as possible."

If the man had been in the room, Grey would have gone for his throat.

"Continue, Mr. Parson, please."

"Sir, I've written up all the necessary papers for power-of-attorney. They need your signature and can then be filed with the court.

I'm confident that with your prominence in Seattle that the court will not object to agreeing with your request to be Ms. Steele's guardian in this matter, esp. since you will be responsible for all her medical expenses and since there is no relative to otherwise contest. I'd like to fax the papers to you and have you return them to GEH at your earliest convenience, if you're agreeable?"

"I'm not currently at my own residence. I'll text another fax number to you. Send the papers the minute you get this number, understood?"

"Yes, sir. Very good, sir."

Christian all but hung up on the guy. He had not mentioned, of course, that Ana did have a living relative, one who would royally screw up any attempt on his part to take responsibility for Ana. Ana's mother would probably not have cared that her daughter was hospitalized and would certainly not have left the East coast to come see her. While Grey could have asked her to cooperate, knowing Carla it might have taken weeks to get her off her lazy rear to call the doctors or sign papers or anything necessary for her daughter's health. Grey could only hope that the news did not reach Carla. If it did and she made a fuss, he'd just pay her off. And if that didn't work, well….he'd do whatever it took to remove the obstacle that was Carla whoever now.

He dressed in yesterday's clothes and raced down the stairs. Maybe Grace had heard something. He found a note on the kitchen counter letting him know that Ana was out of recovery and moved into ICU. Her condition was still dicey and, no, he still wasn't allowed to see her without power-of-attorney. Grace had already left for her shift so Christian strode swiftly into his father's office to the fax machine.

Good, the papers had come through. He liked fear in his employees. It got things done quickly which suited his impatient nature.

He signed the papers and sent them back. Now he had to wait on the court to approve. He couldn't see Ana if he went to the hospital so he called his mother, as if as of 8:15, she'd have more news than she did at 7:45. He tapped his fingers on the counter as he waited for Grace to pick up. She didn't. He left a voice message. Then he called the hospital switchboard and demanded to speak with Dr. Trevelyan. She was unavailable, with a patient, and no she could not be interrupted to speak even with her son. God, he knew he was a selfish bastard but he needed to know anything! Now!

He raided the cabinet where his parents kept all their vehicle keys and swiped the ones to the housekeepers. Let her take a taxi to the grocery.

Thus, he found himself crawling through morning traffic in a Ford Aerostar minivan. He felt idiotic but didn't much care. He had to get home, shower and change and find a judge who could get him into see Ana.

"Do you want children, Christian?" Ana asked in a small voice after they'd finished (?) making love about 1 in themorning. He was as relaxed as he ever recalled being….right up until Ana mentioned parenthood. And suddenly he was awake and every muscle tense.

"Hmmm…I never thought I'd make much of a father, Ana."

Silence for several minutes. Maybe he'd gotten lucky and she'd fallen asleep. She always fell asleep first which he liked. Then he could lay there, hold her even closer and listen to her breathe softly. He'd always heard, mostly from Elliot, that post-orgasm, men just crashed and that women wanted to stay awake and cuddle. Christian didn't get that. Of course, Ana was the first woman he'd ever slept with. He wanted to enjoy the so-called afterglow. He certainly felt aglow after sex with Ana. He could barely stand to pull out of her after his orgasm. He didn't want to disconnect. He laughed at the idea but still knew that he'd be quite happy to be physically attached to her 24/7. Superglue, maybe?

Inside of her he felt safety, joy and emotions that he couldn't even put a name to yet. His brother teased him about his need to be always touching her. God, Elliot had no idea the depth of that need.

"Well, I think as a father you'd be as loving to your child as you are to me," replied Ana.

Damn, she was still awake and he didn't know a way around this hairy topic. Straight on? Evasive maneuver? Harsh refusal to consider? Would anything work? Ana was usually like a bulldog with a bone when she had an idea in her head. If she wanted children, what the fuck was he going to do? Maybe he should pretend to fall asleep. Except she knew him. Too well.

"Christian, is this a subject that you're wary of discussing? 'Cause, you know, I'm not pregnant and I don't want to be for several years to come. I'm only 22."

"You won't be 22 for several more months, my love," Grey chuckled. Along with working her ass off to earn a 4.5 GPA, Ana had done likewise to finish school in three years. She needed to get out into the work world so that she could help Ray with medical expenses.

"Maybe I just feel older since I've had more sex in the last few months than most 21 year olds have all through college. You're a little insatiable, you know. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm discovering that I'm a little insatiable, too. At least, with you, I am. We're just randy as all get out."

Christian grabbed her tighter and laughed out loud. She was right. He just wanted her all the time. He came home at lunch or asked her to meet him at the office. He couldn't recall the last time he'd taken a shower without pushing Ana up against the tile wall. He walked in the door at night, said hello to Gail and grabbed his girl for a pre-dinner show. Often they spent entire weekends in bed, laughing, talking and staying naked until they were absolutely too hungry to fuck one more time before getting something to eat.

Even when they went out, they left wherever early or ducked into a private space to get their hands all over each other. His family had gotten used to the two of them disappearing for 30 minutes after dinner. And they rarely made it all 20 floors in the elevator before he'd torn off her panties, stowed them in his pocket and wrapped her legs around his waist. He spent business meetings imagining his head either between her legs or her breasts but rarely on the business at hand.

He kept thinking as time went on that the attraction would fade. Though attraction was a lame word for what he felt for Ana. She was the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins. How long could one live without those and only death could stop one from needing them?

He thought back to his sub days when 8 pm Fridays to 1 pm Sundays would be plenty to satisfy him. By 1:01 Sunday afternoons he'd be back in his office, getting his rocks off by perusing spreadsheets and analyzing acquisition possibilities. It was only late Fridays that he'd start to anticipate his subs arrival and start imagining playroom scenes. He would spend the drive home plotting his moves.

He never plotted moves anymore. He didn't have to think about what scenarios, what toys, he would need to get him and the latest woman off. And he truly didn't need to cane a petite brunette to rid himself of anger toward his mother.

He'd known after that first weekend with Anastasia Steele that 41 hours a week would never be enough. He may not have needed to be having sex with Ana every minute but he definitely needed Ana 24/7.

He knew that she wasn't happy about his demand for her to move in but he tried to make certain that she didn't regret it either. He tried to give her all the space he could, all the time she needed to be with her father. He saw to it that she got extended family medical leave from her publishing job and as Ray's condition became grave, he surprised her with a bed being installed next to Ray's so that, if she didn't want to, she never had to leave his side.

He had food brought in so she didn't even have to go down to the cafeteria. He brought changes of clothing and her books and even manuscripts if she wanted to work. He lay in bed at night miserable without her but he lied and told her that he slept okay and didn't have nightmares. But he did.

One of the nightmares he had day and night was that once Ray was gone and Ana no longer needed his billions to keep Ray alive that she would no longer need him. She told him that she loved him, that she would never leave him unless he wanted her to go. She said that she understood that he had given up the BDSM life because all he needed was her but he knew her insecurities wouldn't let her really believe that.

She tried to tell him, matter-of-factly and without drama, that when he was ready to go back into the red room and needed a sub that she would try to be that for him. When he sternly told her that that would never happen, she told him that she understood that she wasn't enough and that when he needed an experienced sub, she would step aside without complaint.

He'd taken her by her shoulders, looked her straight in her eyes and said that he'd have a complaint with that, a real big complaint. He'd tried every way he knew to let her know that he couldn't do without her because he loved her…every way he knew except the simple words, I love you.

When he reached home, he found Taylor sitting at the breakfast bar, having coffee and talking with Gail. Christian envied them their uncomplicated home life. If he'd said that out loud, they would have both laughed. Uncomplicated, eh? They lived with and worked for Christian Grey.

"Taylor, someone named Lionel Parson has filed power-of-attorney papers with the court. Would you get on the line and find out how that's going? I want to get in to see Ana as soon as possible."

"Mr. Grey, did you by chance neglect to tell Parson that Ana has a living relative, aka., the egg donor?"

"If he knew that, Taylor, and still filed papers, he could be disbarred, correct? So, how about we let him keep his law license until he pisses me off."

"Sir, have you seen the Seattle Nooz this morning? There's an article about you doing some long-term hanging about at Bellevue Medical yesterday. You know, they always have a reporter stationed there just in case, don't you? We have to be more careful about our comings and goings but still there can always be a leak from one of the hospital staff. If the reason you're there gets out into the national news….." Taylor stopped, figuring the obvious would be clear to his boss.

Christian also stopped in his tracks. Ana could be in the hospital for a long time. Taylor was right that keeping his involvement quiet would be almost impossible. Christian's need to see Ana had blinded him to the complications of…well…seeing Ana.

"Okay, let's say that the news leaks and gets to Carla who then decides to make trouble. I can always claim that it was my belief that Ana's mother was deceased, that there had been no contact between them of which I was ever aware. When Ana wakes up, she'll be able to speak for herself or ask that I retain power-of-attorney.

Whatever, Taylor, I'll deal with it when I have to."

Christian turned around once more before he headed to his bedroom and enquired of Taylor, "Do you know of any hitmen?"

Taylor shook his head and turned back to Gail. "I have a bad feeling about this, honey."

Christian checked his phone again and found a text from Grace.

Sorry, dear. No change in Ana's condition as of 8:45. Will alert you immediately. Did you get power-of-attorney?

Christian showered, changed and decided that he did need to eat something. While Gail was dishing up his spinach omelet, Taylor came into the room to notify him that Parson had gotten through to a judge…fortunately one who'd benefitted from Grey's largesse during the last election. Parson was faxing the approved power-of-attorney papers now.

Christian gulped down the last of his omelet and ran into his office to find the papers coming through on the fax. He was now officially in charge of Ana's medical care.

"Taylor, got it! We're going!" yelled Christian as he punched the elevator buttons several times. Damn, why did he have to share the elevator with the other 19 floors? He should have thought of the need for a private elevator 7 years ago. When they entered the car, Grey punched in the code for the garage, bypassing all other floors. Everyone else trying to leave the building would just have to wait.

When they reached the garage, Christian headed straight for the minivan to Taylor's confusion.

"Sir? What is that?"

"Don't be a snob, Taylor. This is my mother's housekeeper's errand van and will be the perfect vehicle to sneak into the hospital lot. No one will suspect that Christian Grey is arriving in a powder blue minivan. I'm also thinking of wearing a fake mustache and a fishing hat, " he grinned.

"Sir, I think you're a little giddy."

"Yes, I'm going to see my girl! Damn straight, I'm giddy!"

"Hmmm…the van, yes, and the disguise, okay. The $4000 Armani suit and the Gucci shoes, no,'' Taylor pointed out.

"You're right, even lowlife paparazzi would notice the clothes. Okay, stop at the nearest discount store and get me something else."

30 minutes later, wearing a hoodie, sweatpants and cheap tennis shoes with velcro straps, Christian stepped out of the van and strode quickly into the hospital followed by Taylor who was similarly dressed to his everlasting embarrassment. It was a toss-up who looked more ridiculous. But it worked. The paparazzi who stood around watching for celebrities looked the other way, bored out of their minds. One of the problems with working Seattle was the general lack of celebrities except, of course, any of the Greys.

They knew that the Grey family had been there yesterday so they were hoping for another chance at them. They were also working on one of the janitorial staff to get them information. The very fact that the word had already gone out from the hospital personnel office that a lack of discretion about patient confidentiality would result in job loss had alerted everyone on staff that something was up. A guy making minimum wage sweeping floors would not need much persuading to accept a few hundred bucks to do a bit of spying.

The hospital personnel office, Grey thought, had screwed up. They then, in a desperate attempt to placate Grey and Grace, had set up a security perimeter around the ICU, only further alerting everyone that someone important was a current patient. Grace stopped by the office to tell them to knock it off, to stop "helping" but the damage was done and the presence of a woman of importance to Christian Grey was sure to make front page news within days.

Then, Grey knew, he'd have to find a way to deal with Carla but not today. Today, he gets to see Ana and maybe even touch her, maybe even see her blue eyes.

Ana looked so small in her hospital bed. She seemed to have tubes coming out of every part of her. She even had a tube down her throat. There were tubes in both of her nostrils. Several IVs in both of her arms. Electrodes attached to her chest. There were monitors everywhere, keeping an eye on her breathing and her heart. A tube coming out from below the sheet attached to a bag collecting urine. Ana was too modest to ever let Christian see her on the toilet so he knew she would not like the catheter.

She had a little more color to her than the white hospital sheets but not by much. There was a ribbed bag blowing up and then collapsing that he understood was helping her to breathe. He listened to the beeps of machine that kept track of her blood pressure. He was afraid to approach so he stood by the door.

Grace encouraged him to come closer but he shook his head.

"Christian, you won't hurt her. Look, you can hold her hand."

Still, he kept his distance.

"Mom, she ran from me. She didn't even feel safe enough to tell me that she was going. She figured out how to beat the security and then she lived on the streets. She doesn't want me near her. What if she knows it's me. I couldn't stand it if those machines started going haywire because of me. I'm worried that even the sound of my voice might frighten her."

Grace had never seen her son so scared and sad.

"When is Dr. Albright due in? I need an update on prognosis. It's been more than 24 hours."

Grace checked one of the bags of saline solution and pressed the button. A nurse came in and noticed that the bag was getting low and the urine bag was filling up. She smiled at Grace and said, "Good, our girl's kidneys seem to be doing fine. That is good news. I'll change both now."

Christian was grateful that the nurse was so professional and not batting her eyes at him.

After the nurse left, Grace again asked Christian to come forward. "If she is at all aware, then she's heard your voice and has not had a bad reaction. She may be wondering why you're not with her. Try, son. If the monitors show that she is bothered by you, you can stop right away. I assure you that she is being watched very carefully."

Christian wanted so badly to kiss her cheek, her forehead, to hold her hand so he overcame his fear and came closer. He leaned closer and told Ana that he was here with her; was that okay? There was no reaction from the noisy machines so he very tentatively placed his lips on her forehead and then her cheek and then sat in the chair next to the bed and reached out for her hand. It was so cold, so limp. But it was Ana. He waited for the machines to protest but nothing happened so he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then grasped it in both his own.

"I guess she doesn't know that I'm here," he told his mother.

"Or she does and it's okay with her", smiled Grace. Although Christian still looked awful, the result of months of worry and nightmares and sleepless nights, he looked better just for being with Ana.

"I'm going to try to find Dr. Albright," remarked Grace. You stay here and take care of your girl, okay?"

Christian merely nodded, not taking his eyes off of Ana.

In the hallway, Grace stopped and leaned against the wall. She used to be religious when she was much younger but she'd seen too much pain, too many little kids suffering, watched too many parents leave the hospital, without their children, trying to hold each other up while they sobbed. No, Grace had simply see too much horror to believe anymore in a benevolent force that cared for us all. She'd long ago become agnostic. Carrick still took the kids to church when they were little but eventually they didn't want to go anymore and Carrick began to wonder himself about the reality of a god.

But Grace, slumped against the wall, prayed. It probably wasn't the best prayer..more along the lines of "you son of a bitch. You let that girl live, you let her get well"….it was the best she could manage.

Then she pushed herself up and went off to find Dr. Albright.

"Well," Christian began, "It's good to see you again." Damn, that was lame.

I've missed you, Ana. I don't know how to tell you how much. My life has been empty, a void. You brought everything to me and then you took it all away. I'm not placing blame on anyone but me. I extorted you into staying with me and never wanted to know that you didn't want to be with me.

"Still, I don't believe that you were so unhappy. I saw the joy in you day after day. I saw the way you beamed at me when I tried to be funny for you. I don't pretend to understand why you felt you had to run in the middle of the night and eat out of dumpsters.

"Yeah, I met Mac. I need to tell him that you're alive and I will as soon as you're moved to a regular room. I think that the guy loves you. You're not attracted to short, beefy guys, are you? 'cause that would really hurt.

We have to talk, sweetheart. I have to know where I screwed up; you can tell me how to fix it. I count on you so much. I can't seem to manage without you."

Her cold, lifeless hands. Her little body overwhelmed by machinery. His psyche overwhelmed by fear. It all became too much and Christian began to cry and shake with sobs in a way that he hadn't cried since he was a small boy who needed the mother-who-wasn't. He leaned over Ana's stomach and howled in pain. He didn't know how long he'd been crying or when he'd stopped but he suddenly realized that he was waking up.

Grace was with him. She smiled at him and told him that he'd been asleep for almost 4 hours with his head on Ana's stomach. Visitors hours were long over but she didn't want to wake him. She knew that sleeping with Ana gave him real rest.

"I spoke with Dr. Albright. He was here while you slept. He noted that Ana's blood pressure seems to have stabilized. He wondered if it was the Christian effect," she smiled again.

"How is Ana's condition now? Anything new on her prognosis?" Christian asked, his voice laced with fear.

"She is doing as well as can be expected. She's on schedule, so to speak. He sounded hopeful but he still wants us to be realistic about her chances. The swelling on the brain has not increased but it has not gone down either. She is still not able to breathe on her own. She is, however, more stable than he expected her to be at this point so this is good news. Any kind of stable is good news, Christian. All in all, there's more to hope for than there was when you brought her in. At first, I honestly thought little of her chances."

"But you told me that she's strong and a fighter."

"And I meant it. If anyone can beat this, Ana can. I have faith in her and you must, too. Now, however, we have to go. I've found someone willing to cover me so I can be here with you again tomorrow. Let's not overstay our welcome. Come on, I sent Jason home hours ago. He was dressed so oddly. That fisherman hat and plaid shirt…on Jason? And why on earth are you wearing shoes with velcro straps like an old person?"

"Disguise, Mom".

"Oh, hmm. Ana would bust a gut if she saw those shoes," Grace chortled. Well, come on. I'll give you a couple of moments alone to say goodbye. I'll be in the hall."

Grey leaned over Ana and again kissed her on her head and her cheek as he squeezed her hand. "Maybe tomorrow you'll squeeze back? I love you, Ana. My life is nothing until you come back to me. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" And the machines beeped back at him and the air bags wheezed out their farewell. Christian placed Ana's cold hands under a bit of blanket and gently touched her check.

"You have no idea how hard it is to leave you, baby."

He hated the days in the ICU. They were full of ifs and maybes. And noise. So many machines making beeping and wheezing racket. How were all these people supposed to get well in the midst of this chaos? Christian watched as people came into Intensive Care and went out; some with sheets over their faces.

There was some good news. The swelling in Ana's brain had begun to slowly decrease and her blood pressure and other vital signs remained stable. The tumors were not cancerous but the area around them had sustained some damage which meant that Ana may have trouble with some cognitive skills such as language, judgement, memory and sexual behavior. Naturally, Christian's ear perked up at that last one. Dr. Albright noted Christian's expression and felt now was the time to reiterate that Ana may have serious memory issues. She might not remember Christian or her recent past.

"That could be a good thing," muttered Christian.

Dr. Albright wondered at that remark but let it go. Grey looked so bad, Dr. Albright idly wondered if maybe he should be admitted.

"You said that she might not remember her recent past, doctor. How recent?" asked Grey.

"Well, that's hard to say. A couple of weeks or a couple of years. There is no way to predict."

Christian looked up the doctor, troubled. "Ana barely made it through her father's illness. How do I tell her, again, that Ray is gone?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey, I really don't have an answer for that. I know that you'll find a way, if it comes to that. Like I said, we won't know until Ana is conscious what has happened to her brain. I do know that she seems to have a good support system in you and your family. So, we'll have to hope for the best and be prepared for, well, less than that."

Dr. Albright seemed to have something more to say but he stopped, patted Grey's shoulder and left the room. As he left, he passed Grace and gave her a small smile. "I didn't say anything. I thought maybe….unless you'd rather it came from me?"

Grace thought about it for a few moments and then said, "No, I think I should tell him but thank you for the offer."

Dr. Albright sighed and headed down the corridor, rather grateful to be relieved of this particular duty.

Grace kissed Christian's cheek and then took a seat on the other side of the bed. She observed Ana for a few minutes, reached out and smoothed her hair back as it flopped over the bandage encasing much of her head.

"She's stable. This is great news. The swelling is going down. It is only a matter of time now before she can breathe on her own and then open her eyes. It's been a long road. I know that you're tired, dear."

"I don't know who you had to sleep with to get me all these hours with Ana but I really appreciate it, Mom."

Grace laughed out loud. "Well, it was your father who really finagled all this extra time. He sat down with the hospital administrator and pointed out that Grey money built half this hospital. Then he very gently "hinted" that denying you access to Ana might result in the Grey family being less inclined in the future to be so supportive of an institution that did not support you."

Christian had to smile at the idea of his father "hinting". He'd never known his dad to be less than blunt. Whatever. When other people got an hour to sit with their loved ones, he spent all day and half the night. He couldn't stand to be away from Ana and he was terrified that something would happen while he was elsewhere. So, he would go home to shower, change, do a little work in his office, talk to Ros for a few minutes and return to Ana. The whole time he was away he had to struggle to control his nerves.

He felt a bit guilty that other people came and went and he got to remain but he reasoned that most of them wanted to get out of the place anyway. When the nurses and doctor came in for checks on Ana or to take her for ever more tests, he was careful to get out of the way. He already knew that with few exceptions, they resented him being there. They were people accustomed to obeying strict rules. The ICU was a tense atmosphere and the medical personnel put in long hours so he tried to be sure that he didn't upset anyone.

"Christian, there is something I need to discuss with you. Would you mind stepping outside with me?" Grace asked ever so gently. Oh, this wasn't good.

"What is it, Mom? Why can't you tell me in here?" asked Christian.

"There is always a chance that Ana could be aware of some things and I don't want to take that chance with this information," responded Grace, solemnly. "Please, let's just step out into the hall for a few moments, okay?"

Christian felt his heart constrict. He leaned over and kissed Ana's forehead and told her that he'd be right back. Then, holding his breath, he removed her hand from his and left the room with his mother.

Grace started to lead her son down the corridor toward a small lounge but he stopped a few feet from Ana's door.

"Mom, I don't want to go far. You know, in case one of the monitors goes off? He leaned against the wall and waited for his world to fall apart again.

"This has nothing to do with Ana's current state of health. She is fine." Grace took a ragged breath and wondered how she could do this.

"A couple of days ago, you remember? Ana was taken for a test, an MRI. Dr. Albright thought that now that she was stable enough to tolerate the move that he should check her for other, well, less obvious injuries. She could have something that needed attending to, you see?" Grace urged Christian to understand.

"Okay, I see that. So, did he find anything? Mom, please get on with it before I crack," demanded Christian.

"They found nothing wrong. No broken bones, no internal injuries at all. This is very good news, son."

"Uh, huh. Then why are we out in the hall, whispering?" Christian was growing more impatient and suspicious.

"Christian, the MRI showed evidence of a pregnancy. Were you and Ana planning on having a child?"

Grey gasped and slumped to the floor. "Ana is pregnant? Mom, how can her body handle a pregnancy right now?"

Grace lowered herself to sit beside her son. She wasn't done.

"Son, Ana isn't pregnant anymore." He looked at her, just looked. "When was she still pregnant then?"

"Probably up until 2 months ago. She had a miscarriage. She would have been about 8 weeks along. It's possible that she didn't even realize. Dealing with hormones and brain tumors and an aneurysm, a miscarriage was a not a surprising outcome. She was just too sick to sustain a pregnancy."

Christian shook his head. "Then, she was pregnant that last month when her father was mostly in a coma and then she watched him die and all the time she was almost catatonic. I knew that she was grieving but I thought she'd come out of it. But all that time her body was dealing with all these things. Oh, my god, Mom. My poor Ana. She was throwing up a lot and wouldn't eat and, I remember now, I would come home and Gail would say that Ana had a headache and had gone to bed. I thought nothing of any of it. I thought it was just all part of the grieving process."

"And you know Ana. She'd brush it off as being a little tired and she'd try to be cheerful. What kind of man am I, Mom? How could I not notice that she was in serious trouble? There were a thousand signs that something wasn't right and all I could think about was me. How do I get her back to being Ana? I was even impatient with her at times. I tried to convince her to see Flynn so that she could "get over" it and go on with life. And all the time she was carrying my child and having tumor-induced headaches and, and…"Christian put his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

Suddenly, his head shot up. "Mom, I know when the aneurysm burst! We were cuddled up, watching a movie she wanted to see. She seemed to be doing well that day and I was feeling pretty hopeful about things. She was enjoying the movie but still she fell asleep. I continued to sit there with her in my arms, figuring I'd finish the movie and then take her to bed. She started to mumble and thrash about. I thought that she was having one of her nightmares. Then she shot awake, grabbing her head and screamed. She had the strangest look in her eyes. Like she didn't know me. She looked around the room, holding her head and crying.

Finally, she saw me and she said, "Someone hit me" and I said that she had a bad dream…that no one hit her. She seemed to accept that and I didn't want to leave her so I buzzed Gail to bring some medication to ease the pain. Then I took Ana to bed and she went right to sleep. She walked around the next few days like she was reacquainting herself with a place she hadn't seen in a long time. It was so odd to hear her exclaim about the view as if she'd never before seen it and talk about the house she'd lived in for months as being so big. After several days, she seemed back to her old self and I didn't think anymore about it.

Mom, if I had paid attention to Ana instead of my latest big deal, I might have gotten her help. She might not have taken off and she might still be having our baby."

Nothing Grace could say or do seemed to help alleviate Christian's guilt and self-loathing.

After what seemed an eternity, Ana was ready to be moved into a regular room. Of course, it wasn't really a "regular" room. Grey saw to it that Ana's room was like the one he'd arranged for Ray…large, plush, equipped with every amenity, including private nurses and meals catered from the Mile High Club for Christian… and for Ana when she awoke.

Dr. Albright said that the swelling on her brain had gone down to acceptable levels and she'd continued to be stable. The breathing tube was removed and that damn wheezing bag was gone. She was stilled hooked up to monitors so there was still that obnoxious beeping but until Ana was conscious, Dr. Albright wanted to keep a close eye on her. Even though everything was looking promising, he was a quite cautious doctor and that was fine with Christian. He left for only a few hours a day and he only felt comfortable leaving her for that small period of time because he knew that her doctor was hovering close by.

Dr. Albright was still unable to give Christian or Grace any idea of when to expect Ana to regain consciousness or of what to expect when Ana did open her eyes again. Grey sat next to her bed holding Ana's hand and balancing his laptop on his knee as he researched head injuries and traumas. All the things that could go wrong terrified him. The one causing him the most concern because, as he reflected, he was a selfish bastard, was that Ana would have retrograde amnesia. It was a double-edged sword. Either she would remember him and still hate him enough to want nothing to do with him or she wouldn't know who he was at all.

Neither was a favorable outcome.

All he knew was that the moment her eyes popped open, he was going to say to her the words he'd never said, the words he reasoned that she needed to hear. Grace and Dr. Albright both tried to tell him that Ana's thinking had undoubtedly been compromised due to the aneurysm and the tumors in addition to pregnancy hormones and that Ana possibly wasn't clear herself on why she'd run off but Christian was scared and exhausted and wanted a simple answer to her problems.

I'll tell her that I love her and she'll feel safe and she'll need time but she'll be fine, he told himself. Over and over.

Something startled Grey out of his sleep. The room was dark except for a bit of light from the parking lot below. And it was quiet.

Christian closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep but suddenly he was alert instead. This wasn't right. It was never dark and quiet like this in Ana's room. He looked up to the monitors. They were dark and silent. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked down at Ana. The sheets were pushed aside, all the electrodes that had been attached to Ana were lying on the bed. The IV lines were lying there also, with blood around them. Further down lay the line from the catheter. There was more blood and the urine bag lay on the floor. Ana was gone.

Grey frantically pushed the call button and leapt up to turn on the lights. There was a dribbling of blood into the bathroom, around the toilet and then out the door. He struggled to stay calm. If Ana had to be removed from the room suddenly, he would have woken.

Did someone take her?

A nurse rushed into the room, quickly accessed the situation and noted the blood spots on the hallway floor as well. Christian wanted to start running…somewhere, he didn't know, to find Ana but the nurse persuaded him to sit, pointing out that she and the other nurses knew how to find their way around in the maze of hospital corridors. Everyone, she assured him had been alerted.

"Who would take her? Why?" Christian fairly screamed. The nurse tried to calm him and pointed out that there was a blood trail.

Christian jumped up from his seat and ran into the corridor. He saw the drops leading away from the room and he concentrated on following them. They led to the stairwell and down to the 4th floor. He and the nurses followed the droplets into the pediatric unit. There was no one at the desk. What the hell kind of hospital is this? Ana was losing blood!

A nurse rushed up to him and put out her hand to stop him. "We've found her. She's in the Peds ICU, looking at the babies in the incubators. She doesn't seem aware of us and we don't want to startle her. Approach her very gently. Maybe hearing your voice will bring her out of this trance."

Christian nodded, still shaking. He walked around the corner and saw her, standing against the glass barrier, her hands up on the window, blood running down the glass and trickling down from between her legs unto the floor.

"Ana?"

Christian stood well back, fighting every urge to run to her.

"Ana, baby," he said softly, "will you look at me, please?"

Ana smiled and said simply, "Babies."

"Yes, sweetheart, babies," gulped Christian. "Could you please look this way? I need to see your beautiful baby blue eyes," he pleaded with her. She didn't seem to hear him. Slowly he took steps nearer to her, speaking in a low, soft voice, as if Ana were a wounded animal. She didn't react to his closeness, just continued staring at the babies.

"I don't think the babies are well. They're hardly moving," worried Ana.

"It is the middle of the night, Ana. The babies are sleeping. We should come back tomorrow when they're awake."

Christian gently laid his hand on Ana's head and stroked her hair. "Would you like to do that, baby? Come back in the morning?"

"You can sleep for a while and then we can see the babies." He'd promise her anything even though he knew babies in the ICU were no more available to strangers than the adults in critical care.

As he gently smoothed her hair, he moved around behind her and then moved his arms down to embrace her waist and lean his face down into the nook between her shoulder and her neck. Without warning, Ana began sinking to the floor. Christian quickly picked her up and cradled her against his chest. The nurses rushed forward and urged him toward the door, into the elevator and back down the hallway to Ana's room.

In her absence, someone had cleaned up the mess and changed the sheets. Christian laid Ana on the bed and then moved to get out of the way. A saline bag was hung and an IV reinserted into Ana's arm. Her catheter was reinserted and electrodes reattached. The monitors came to life, glowing and beeping. The doctor on night shift examined Ana for injuries and then took a relaxed breath. He shook his head and smiled a bit.

"Well, she's okay, but I sure as hell don't understand how she pulled it all off. Heck, yanking out that catheter alone should have been painful enough to warrant a scream. She must have been almost sleep walking. She removed all this tubing, got out of bed unaided, used the restroom and flushed and then found her way to the Peds ICU, using the stairs no less. All that while you slept next to her?"

"I couldn't have been unconscious more than ten minutes and, yeah, I've been exhausted but….." shrugged Christian in confusion and wonder. "Knowing Ana, she was probably doing her best to not disturb my rest…just an instinctual thing, I guess," Christian said as he sank to his knees, crying.

"Mr. Grey," the nurse spoke kindly, "you are beyond exhausted. I'm here every night and I've rarely seen you sleep at all. You don't eat half of that gourmet food that's brought in. You just sit with Ana, talking to her and asking us for updates on her condition every half hour. You're going to become one of our patients if you don't take better care of yourself."

"She's right, Mr. Grey. I'm ordering you to go home and go to bed. I'm going to post a notice on Ana's door that you are not allowed back in until tomorrow 6 pm at the earliest. Fight me on that and I'll make it 2 days," the doctor said firmly.

Christian's despair boiled into rage. "If I hadn't been here, you wouldn't even have known that Ana was wandering around the hospital, bleeding! I'm not going to leave her in the care of you incompetents! I should have the whole useless lot of you kicked off the hospital grounds now!"

He was really on a roll, screaming loud enough to be heard through the entire floor at 3 in the morning. He was hyperventilating and beginning to choke on his own saliva. He wanted all of these nincompoops gone, away from his precious Ana. He didn't notice when one of the nurses jabbed him with a syringe. He simply slipped away, down for the count, the staff hoped, for a goodly amount of time.

FLASHBACK

He walked off the elevator and was nearly knocked down by a small tsunami leaping into his arms. Ana wrapped her arms and legs around him and smashed her lips into his. He dropped his briefcase and wrapped his arms around her, lowering himself onto the floor. She leaned back, beaming at him, and asked him if he wanted to play some tonsil hockey. Lord in heaven, he worshipped this little woman.

They had been living together for several weeks and despite the pain she carried with her always, she seemed to find a way to enjoy life, and him, anyway. He'd die for her. He'd known it from the beginning and the feeling only grew stronger every day.

There were entire weeks when he'd come home to find her weeping or staring into space, usually because Ray wasn't doing well and sometimes, well, sometimes he didn't know why and she couldn't tell him. He'd hold her and ask her to tell him what was wrong and she'd just shake her head and look at him, so strangely and so bewildered. Somedays she was sad even though Ray was having a good day. He had noticed that a lot of those bad days followed bad nights. She'd cured him of his nightmares but he seemed useless in helping her with hers. And her's were as bad or worse than his had ever been.

Two nights ago he'd awakened, as he did when she wasn't with him. He'd searched throughout the house for her and had begun to panic when he finally found her hiding in the back of a guest room closet, holding a knife and whimpering. She'd wet herself and her eyes were wild with fear. She looked like a little girl trying to protect herself from something inhuman. He spent 30 minutes talking her back to reality.

"Christian?" her ocean blue eyes finally seeing him.

"Yes, baby, it's me. I'm here to take care of you."

Ana dropped the knife and threw herself at Christian, clinging to him desperately. He helped her to her feet and carried her into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. He stripped off their soaking bedclothes and washed her thoroughly with the apple-scented body wash she loved. Then she wrapped her legs around him and he buried himself inside her until they both came, screaming for each other. It was only after she'd fallen asleep in his arms that he allowed himself to cry, for her.

In the morning, she didn't remember the night before but wondered why her t-shirt and his pajama pants were lying in a sodden heap in the shower.

Sometimes, however, when she woke up gasping for breath and flaying her arms about, she remembered the nightmares. They were more like flashbacks than dreams. And then Christian would hold her tight until her breathing was soft again and he would calm himself by imagining how he would torture #3 and #4 until their nights were filled with the same horror that Ana relived again and again. Some nights he would even toss mommy dearest into the mix for extra satisfaction. Then he could sleep himself.

But, oh, when Ana was happy! Those were the days when he could forget that he was essentially holding her prisoner. The days when she herself didn't seem to remember precisely why she now lived in his penthouse. He never thought about her ever leaving. When it became clear that all the genius doctors he'd brought in from around the world and all the $10,000 a dose medications Ray was receiving were only delaying the inevitable, Grey pushed away the thought that Ana might want her freedom when he had nothing to hold over her head.

The tiny knock on his study door could only belong to one person, he smiled to himself. Despite his making clear to Ana again and again that she should just walk in whenever she wanted to, she always tapped on the door and waited to be invited. Maybe that should have clued him in that she didn't feel as at home as he considered her to be. He just thought it was Ana being considerate, like always.

"Get that cute little tushie in here," called out Christian, delighted to see her anytime. He wanted her to rush over and throw herself onto his lap, even if she did damn near break his dick doing it. The second he heard the knock, little Christian would get rail hard. The great Dom who'd been in command of his erections the past six years, thanks to Elena's brutal tutorials, now had trouble maintaining any control at all if he even thought about Ana. And he didn't care.

Ana opened the door a few inches and leaned her head inside.

"Christian, it's me," she said in her musical voice.

"Well, thank goodness, I was afraid it was Taylor's tushie" laughed Christian.

Ana smiled shyly as she walked in and took a seat on the chair across from his desk. She looked serious. Hmmm….he thought. He didn't make many jokes and he hated that she'd miss one but she looked quite solemn.

"What's up, baby, and why are you over there instead of over here?" he said, patting his knee.

"If you have a minute, I'd like to ask you something," Ana said hesitantly. Christian leaned forward, giving her his full attention, feeling his heart clench.

Please ask for a new car, he thought, or a house or a horse.

What she did ask for he didn't see coming at all.

"First, I need to thank you for everything you did for my father. Without you, I would have lost him months earlier and he would have suffered so much more."

"Ana, you've thanked me many, many times."

"Yes, I've tried to but you did so much more than I ever expected out of our deal." Christian felt a little twist in his stomach at the mention of the disgusting bargain he'd made with her. He was sure that he'd burn for that particular deal.

"Anyway, you promised to take care of him and you did. However, it cost so much more than I'd anticipated and then you paid for all the funeral and burial costs as well. That wasn't included in the original agreement. You not only paid for all of it but you made all the arrangements when I was so out of it that I don't think that I could have done a thing." Ana fidgeted with her hands in her lap, looking up and then down again.

"Ana, I wanted…,"started Christian but she continued.

"I know full well, I've understood all along that you were being exceptionally kind to both of us and that I've done so little in return. I promised to be a sub and I wasn't. I even had the gall to order your provider, Mrs. Lincoln, to leave your home. Either of those girls that she brought over that night would have been able to give you exactly what you required. I should have at least encouraged you to keep them. I mean, I would have stayed, too, if you'd wanted. I'm sorry. I was jealous and angry because I thought that she hurt you but I had no right, no right at all to be giving you orders to send them all away and keep you from what you needed."

Ana was talking faster and faster, out of control, like a gyroscope gone mad.

"Ana, baby, stop. Stop!" commanded Christian.

"First, that night you kicked Elena out of here was one of the best nights of my life. No one had stuck up for me like that since Grace when I was 4. I didn't want anything that she had to offer, esp. not those girls she had the nerve to bring by without my permission. And secondly, I hadn't had a sub for months before I met you. I was used to that life because it was all I'd known since I was 15 but I think I was bored and done with it, again, even before you. I just didn't realize it until I tried to do playroom time with you and it didn't work. I sealed away that key and I haven't missed it, haven't even thought about it. I never knew that I could be normal but you taught me that I could and would love it."

He wondered if he'd gotten through to her. She looked more pale than usual and he hoped that she wasn't coming down with something. Since Ray's death, she hadn't been eating much, she often threw up what she did eat, and she'd been wandering around the house at night. She used to love to work but he hadn't had to discourage her from that in weeks. Everyday she walked out of the building and walked for hours. Sawyer followed her from a distance. Grey figured that she knew because the best of his highly trained covert operators hadn't been able to go undetected by the wily and pissed off Anastasia Steele. Still, now she didn't seem to see Sawyer and never complained.

Sawyer was protective of Ana and didn't report on any of her doings to Christian. Christian didn't ask. He wanted to respect Ana's privacy as long as she was protected. Thus, he didn't know that Ana often stumbled or that she would sit on a bench and hold her head in her hands sometimes. Sawyer didn't think it was important, just Ana grieving.

"That's very kind of you, Christian," responded Ana.

"I'm not being kind, Ana", insisted Christian. "It's just the truth."

She sighed, not seeming to hear or believe.

"Anyway, I've been wondering how much I still owe you," she almost whispered.

"Owe me? What the devil are you talking about?" Christian was being impatient…and fearful.

"Well, our arrangement was sex for my father's care and, as I said, you went far beyond what I expected and then with the funeral and all…..well, it seems that I must owe considerably more than you initially intended to spend and I would like to go back to work soon and try to begin to repay as much as possible," Ana began to speed up again and tears began to fall, "I'm so sorry. I'll try very hard but I don't know if I'll ever be able to get enough money together….." and on she went, picking up speed like the crazy gyroscope again.

She wanted to pay him off?! Christian felt like his head was going to explode. His face turned red and his fear and rage began to boil over inside him. What the fuck did she take him for?! He cared for her. He'd taken care of her as well as he knew how. She was talking to him like he was a fucking drug dealer coming after her for welching on a deal. How dare she turn all the love and affection he given her into a fucking cold-blooded transaction?!

He couldn't stay in the room. He was afraid that he'd hurt her, say something horrible, throw something. He tore out of the room and ran for the elevator with Taylor on his heels.

He left her in his office, shaking violently, racked with tears, too afraid to move. She didn't understand but then nothing made much sense lately. She eventually laid down on the couch, her head throbbing, and sobbed herself to sleep.

Christian jumped into his R8, Taylor just managing to make it into the passenger seat, and sped out of the garage. He was driving much too fast. It was raining and the streets were slick and there was too much traffic. Taylor held on and hoped that he'd make it back to Gail and that hope told him what to say to his boss.

"Sir, if you get hurt after an argument with Ana, you'll break her heart." He held his breath as Grey gradually let up on the accelerator. One thing Taylor knew was that this man loved that woman and would avoid hurting her at all costs. After 15 minutes or so, Grey pulled off on a side road and parked. They sat there for several minutes, Grey's breath slowly easing.

"I couldn't hear what Ana was saying to you, Mr. Grey, but I got the gist from what you were yelling at her. Am I correct that Ana wishes to honor your initial bargain in a monetary fashion?"

Grey was gripping the wheel, starring straight ahead. "I don't think of her in that way, Taylor. You know that."

"I know, sir. I have eyes and, of course, during my more thick-headed moments, I have Gail to enlighten me," he grinned.

"If I may speak freely, Mr. Grey?" Hearing no response, Taylor spoke anyway.

"I was not present, of course, during your initial negotiations but I did have the opportunity to observe many of your interactions post signing of the deal."

"We never signed. I tossed the contract that same night."

"I meant to say, oral agreement, sir. It was plain to see that you became quite attached emotionally to Ms. Steele almost immediately. I think that perhaps your growing affection for her might have blinded you to her ambivalence."

Christian's head shot to the right so fast that Taylor wondered if he should perhaps duck.

"Explain," demanded Grey.

"Although to you, as I said, almost immediately Ms. Steele was not a sub and became a girlfriend, she did not realize this. She had no experience, no way to compare how you were with her as opposed to how you were with your previous subs. She still considered herself to be a sub and a bad one at that. Because you didn't think of her as being unequal to you, as being submissive to you, you treated her different almost from the start. She thought that you were behaving toward her as you did toward all your previous sexual contracts with the exception being that you were far more tolerant of her "bad" behavior. Therefore, Mr. Grey, it is my thinking, perhaps incorrect, that Ms. Steele thinks that she is still a sub and a failed one at that and that you might feel cheated on the deal." Taylor took a deep breath. He didn't think that, beyond the oddity of giving Christian Grey his non-security opinion, he'd ever said so much at one time in all the years he worked for him.

Grey looked forward again.

Then he looked back at Taylor, somewhat surprised. "Did you get all that from Gail?"

Taylor huffed, feigning indignation. "I do have the occasional non-security related idea of my own, sir. However, yes, Gail has shared her thoughts with me on the matter. She does feel rather the mother-hen toward you, if you didn't know."

"Hmmm," grumbled Grey, "I think the wall of professionalism is crumbling a bit at our house."

Taylor said nothing.

"Thank you, Taylor."

Good grief, thought Taylor. The man said thank you.

Christian turned the car around and headed home.

Christian stopped the car inside the garage and raced for the elevator. Taylor went around to the driver's side, got in and parked the car. Geez, he thought, I hope that man is in for the night. If things don't go well, I suppose that I'll be going for another fucking midnight run, he sighed.

When Christian stepped out of the elevator, he looked around for Ana. He checked their bedroom, the library, the pool room, the media room and then the upstairs guest rooms and every bathroom in the place. He felt the panic rising again. Please, don't be gone, Ana. Finally, he checked the monitors in the Security office and there she was, where he'd left her an hour ago.

When he walked into the office, he found her tightly curled into a ball on his couch, fast asleep, cheeks tear stained. He recalled how he first saw Ana sleeping like that, after their first session in the playroom, and then later in her sub bed. He'd thought that she looked so cute, like a kitten. Now he knew different. It was a defensive position, like the one she'd used as a little girl, to try to protect herself from the blows raining down on her courtesy of one of her brutal stepfathers. And, now, she was in that same position because of him.

Christian knelt down beside her, reaching out to touch her face, smooth her hair, rub her back.

"How do I stop hurting you?" he beseeched in a whisper.

Ana's blues slowly opened. She looked at him in confusion for a moment and then threw her arms around his neck, breathing hard.

"I'm sorry, Christian, I'm so sorry," she cried as she clung to him.

"Ana, Ana, please…look at me, listen carefully to me," begged Christian.

Ana lay back, tears beginning to fall again, her eyes fearful. It killed him to see her hurt and scared and because of him, the monster who bought her.

He needed to look straight into her eyes, to be sure that she heard him and understood his words.

"You are not and, truthfully, have never been my sub. I didn't understand my pull towards you. I'd never before wanted a woman. I'd never cared for a woman with the exception of my mother and sister. You were an undiscovered world for me and I was so fascinated and stunned by you…. I wanted you so much and having never lived a normal life, I tried to win you the only way I had ever known. Even coming after you was strange to me. I'd never done that. Elena had always sent women to me and I'd never so much as had to ask them to be with me. I interviewed them, like they were applying for a position with me. Those times that I coerced your company were so clumsy and rude but I didn't even know it.

Baby, within minutes, no seconds, of meeting, I was a goner. Nothing in my life had prepared me in any way to deal with a woman to whom I was actually attracted. I was knocked off my feet, scared. The great Dom and business mogul, Christian Grey, to whom everything was a business deal, was at a total loss. So I did only what I knew. Find the competitors weakness, exploit it and seal the deal in my favor.

I extorted you into agreeing to be with me but that first Sunday afternoon when you left? I was lost. I just wandered about my cloud in the sky, as you called it. I knew that things hadn't gone as they usually did. You were not happy. I was not happy. I had no contract and I didn't care. I knew you'd be back, for your father's sake, but that wouldn't be enough for me. I would once have been pleased with my dominance of yet another woman but I wasn't pleased. You left with sad eyes and the spirit knocked out of you. That was on me and it broke the heart I didn't know I had. I spent the rest of that Sunday and the whole long five days after not thinking up new and titillating playroom scenes like I usually did but wondering how to make you smile.

And the second time I saw you off at the elevator, I was lost again and spent the rest of the week wondering how to make you happy enough to want to stay longer. And what I came up with to my everlasting shame was still more extortion. I convinced myself that if you were living here that I could make you happy. And I tried, Ana. My goal all these months has been to make you happy, keep you safe and somehow just….just keep you.

Do you understand me, Ana? You are not my submissive. You are not my prisoner. You are not my creditor.

It is I who am indebted, deeply and irrevocably, indebted to you. You have given more to me than I could ever repay…but I would like to try.

All I ask, not demand nor expect, ask, is that you stay with me, love me. If after everything, you want to leave, I will not stop you."

THE PRESENT

Christian starred up at the ceiling, remembering every detail of that evening, all that he'd said to Ana. She seemed to hear, he thought. She smiled and asked him to take her to bed. He made love to her that night with everything he had. Before they fell asleep, he pleaded with her to never leave him. She said that she loved him. Yet he still couldn't say the words to her. He felt like he'd bared every inch of his soul to her that night but he still didn't say three simple words. And now, he realized, she had not said that she'd never leave him. He thought to himself that he truly had to be the dumbest son of a bitch on the planet.

He turned his head to the bedside clock. 4 pm. Ana was off-limits to him for another 2 hours. He could call but he knew that if there was anything to report, the detail outside her room or his mother would have called him. If he didn't want another sedative jabbed into him, he'd have to be patient enough to stay away until 6 pm.

Ana had gotten out of bed, pulled out every line and tube and walked down a hallway and stairs to find the pediatric ICU. All this while recovering from brain surgery, an aneurysm, a miscarriage and weeks of immobility. He had to smile at the audacity of his girl. Yeah, he wished to hell she hadn't endangered herself so but, wow, what a woman.

He couldn't help wondering if after all that moxie, had it set her health back or moved her forward? If she'd woken up, he'd have heard and no doctor's directive could have kept him away….but she must be still asleep. Still, asleep, okay. Coma, no.

After puttering around his penthouse, he figured that if he left now, he'd get to the hospital at exactly 6 pm. Another shift of holding Ana's hand, whispering in her ear and doing internet research on recovery from brain surgery.

As he strode down the corridor to Ana's room, he noted that his detail, Ryan, was talking with his mother, Grace, and the chat looked serious. He picked up his pace. They looked up to see him and smiled. There was good news.

"Darling, Ana is waking up. Not quite but she is coming around. Dr. Albright had just gone home but he was notified and he said that he is turning his car around. We can only cross our fingers and hope that Ana is cognizant of her surroundings and able to speak to us."

Christian stepped around her and rushed into the room. It appeared to him that Ana was still unconscious but he took his usual seat and her hand and whispered hello to her.

To his astonishment, her eyes slowly opened and her lips curled a bit at the edges in a small smile. He stopped breathing.

"You're a pretty man," she whispered.

"You're the most beautiful sight I've seen in all my life," Christian replied, trying to keep calm. Did she know him?

She closed her eyes for a moment and he thought that she was gone again.

Then she opened them all the way and asked for a glass of water. Christian pressed the call button over and over. A nurse and Grace came into the room. Grace gasped to see Ana's eyes quietly regarding her. The nurse said that Ana could have ice chips for the moment but that the doctor would have to decide if she could handle liquid.

Christian adjusted her bed with the remote and helped her to sit up. He lowered the bed rails and slid unto the bed and a bit behind Ana so that she could relax back against him. The nurse's expression was less than approving but Grey didn't care who he offended. He wanted to hold Ana any way that he could. As he felt Ana lean back into his arms, he felt a peace he hadn't known in months. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head as Grace spooned ice chips into Ana's mouth. Ana chomped down hard on a large piece and hearing the crack, she giggled. Christian and Grace smiled at each other as if they'd been handed the deed to heaven. He didn't remember the last time he'd heard that most precious of sounds.

"You're very nice to me," Ana said to Grace. Grace looked up at Christian uncertainly.

"Do you know who I am," asked Grace, almost holding her breath.

Ana looked puzzled for a moment, though completely untroubled. "You're his mother, aren't you? You're pretty, too," she smiled.

"Whose mother am I, Ana dear?" urged Grace.

Ana looked puzzled again and looked back up at Christian. "Well, my boyfriend's mother, of course. Christian, did I make a mistake? She looks just your mother."

"No, baby," Christian's voice trembled, "this is my mother."

Ana smiled, "Grace, could I have more ice chips, please. I'm so thirsty. My mouth is so dry. I'd really like a glass of really cold water."

As Christian and Grace gazed at her in wonder, Dr. Albright walked into the room in time to hear Ana's request. He nodded to the nurse who rushed out to get the water.

"Ana, so nice to meet you!" boomed the doctor. "It's been a long wait. My name is Albright and I'm the man responsible for all those bandages on your head."

"Ana beamed at him and said, "It is nice to meet you, Albright. Why did you put bandages around my head?" she said as she reached up to feel the gauze.

Dr. Albright took a breath and sat down in Christian's vacated chair to explain tumors and aneurysms to his patient.

Ana's eyes grew wider and wider as she listened to Dr. Albright. Her head had had tumors in it and a blood vessel that had slightly ballooned and begun to leak so that it was bleeding inside her skull. She remembered a lot of bad headaches and being off balance sometimes. That was the reason, confirmed Albright.

He went on to explain that having all those things in her head would have made her forgetful and confused, too.

She stopped talking and seemed to be considering everything he'd said. Just when he was about to continue, she put up her hand and told him to shush, that she was thinking.

Everyone had to smile at her bossiness, esp. Christian because she sounded so like the woman he first met.

So, they waited patiently while the doctor looked over her chart and checked her bandages. Than she spoke again.

"Christian, did you have Welch check into all of Elena's secret hiding places?"

Well, didn't see that one coming. Albright looked surprised as did Grace. No filter Ana was unexpected.

"Yes, dear, but there are surely other things you'd like to ask the doctor," encouraged Christian as his mother regarded him with raised eyebrows. Elena was her dear friend. Either Christian had some explaining to do or Ana was talking nonsense. Neither was good.

"I was afraid a lot and I would think as hard as I could but I couldn't make things make sense. I was afraid that I would get lost sometimes. One night I couldn't remember how to get back in the window even tho' it was right next to me and so I had to stay outside and it rained on me and I got sick. I really let Mac down but it worked out because he met Margaret," she smiled. "I had to leave to go find Christian so Mac had Margaret and wouldn't be alone."

Christian felt a certain pain in his heart disappear. Ana wanted to come home!

"I've been alone a lot and I know that it is scary and hurts but now I have my daddy and my boyfriend so I'm not lonely anymore," she beamed at Albright.

"I'm very happy for you, Ana. I'm also happy that all of your vital signs are good, the swelling in your brain has receded completely and the staples should be ready to remove in a few days.

Do you remember taking a walk last night…to visit the babies?"

"Yes, although I don't remember why I wanted to."

"How did you know where to find the babies, Ana?"

Ana considered this for a bit and then confessed that she didn't know. She guessed that she'd just looked around and stumbled on them.

"I was worried at first because the babies were so quiet but then Christian said that they were asleep and we could come back in the morning to visit when they were awake." Whoops, thought Cristian and looked to his mother for help. Was there a baby around for Ana to visit?

"I'll do some checking for babies that you could visit, okay, sweetie?" smiled Grace. She already had an idea.

Ana's eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together with happiness. Christian was delighted that she remembered so much but concerned that she seemed almost childlike.

"I think that now that you've finished your water and taken your medication, you should lie back down and get some sleep," suggested the doctor.

"Okay, Albright. I like your name. All bright!" grinned Ana. Christian reluctantly moved from holding her, placed his lips for a moment on her forehead and told her that he'd always be close by. Then Ana pouted and pointed to her lips. He felt his heart swell. She wanted him to kiss her! Yes, ma'am, he thought, as he softly pressed his mouth to hers and she wrapped her hands in his hair and pulled him in deeper. It was unexpected but Christian couldn't suppress a groan. It had been so long and he wanted her so.

Then she let him go, curled a bit to her side and fell instantly asleep. Christian laid his head on her and breathed in her scent. Then he joined the doctor and his mother in the corridor outside Ana's room. Dr. Albright walked them down to his office, making small talk until they were quietly being closed doors.

Everything looked so good so why did Albright look so solemn?

Albright sat down behind his desk. He felt that his desk gave him some distance from patients and families, an emotional distance that he had to maintain for the sake of his sanity.

Christian and Grace sat in the chairs opposite the desk and stared expectantly at the doctor who held, they hoped, all the answers to Ana. Everything was looking really good but they still felt adrift and unsure. The doctor's sober demeanor made them uneasy.

"Well, this is quite the outcome," began Albright, "none like I've seen, I assure you. My other patients, in this stage of recovery, would be unable to speak in clear sentences, lack the strength for mobility, would, in fact, more resemble victims of stroke. Anastasia is a wonder. I was driving home, beat to the bone and now I feel alert, downright wired!" he laughed.

Christian and Grace smiled at each other, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You had us scared, doctor," scolded Grace. "You looked so serious at first that we thought you had bad news for us."

"Well, to be honest, I don't..which bothers me. With all Ana's brain has gone through, this level of recovery should not be happening. My cautious nature, honed by decades of dealing with patients post-op, has not prepared me for a patient who is chatty and up and running around. Even my adolescent patients have not recovered so quickly. It's usually taken weeks of therapy to even begin to return them to their old selves.

But, question, is this the old Ana? Only you can tell me."

"Well," answered Christian, "I am concerned that she seems rather…hmmm…younger than a woman of 22. Her words, her behavior seem childish, in a way. Yet, she asked for a kiss when I left, pointing to her lips, and then she kissed me, well, rather unlike a child. I'm at sixes and sevens here. Mom? What did you think?"

"I'd have to agree that she seems childlike to a degree but I do remember from our brunches that she was always quite open and lively, quick to laugh and find humor in everything. I mean, initially she was quite shy and quiet but we did our best to make her feel welcome. My husband, Carrick, loved discussing books with her. I'd have to discourage him from monopolizing her company. My daughter, Mia, would pout and whine until she could get Ana's attention and they could talk about Mia's topics. I don't think that Ana cared much about fashion or cooking or parties but Mia did most of the talking and Ana would seem to hang on every word."

At the mention of cooking, Christian burst out laughing, shaking his head. Albright looked at him curiously so Christian enlightened him.

"The morning after our first night together, Ana decided to make breakfast. She had kept house for her father since the age of 9 so she thought that she knew how to cook. She almost burned down the penthouse. Judging from her further attempts, I really have to wonder what she was feeding Ray all those years. Of course he was an easygoing guy for sure and he treasured his daughter.

That brings me to another concern, doctor. Ana spoke of her father as tho' he is still alive."

"Oh," said Albright, "when did he die?"

"Some months ago. Going by the timeline you've given, Ana would have had both the bleed in her brain and the tumors growing. She would also have been pregnant. Combined with the trauma of Ray's death, her tremendous difficulty dealing with her grief makes a lot more sense. Could "forgetting" his death be a defense mechanism or has she lost some memories?"

Dr. Albright sat quietly in his chair for a while, thinking.

"I'm going to have a colleague of mine examine Anastasia. He's a psychologist, Rick Hadley. Do you know him, Grace?"

"Yes, I've consulted with him often about my young patients. I think that that is an excellent suggestion. He is quite young, about 30 I believe, but very impressive."

"Wait a minute now," objected Christian, "I can get the best in the world here within 24 hours. Why should I settle for some local kid? Dom Christian squared his shoulders. I want the very best of the best for Ana."

Dr. Albright narrowed his eyes at Christian and then thought better of his intention to argue. This young man was only reacting out of concern for the woman he loved.

"Christian, you're a 28-year-old multi-billionaire who outright owns his company. If I want to do business, should I go with, say, Bill Gates instead, because he isn't a snot-nosed kid?"

Grace laughed out loud. "He's got you there, dear. Do you think that you're the only boy genius in the world?"

Christian glared at his mother. "I could tell you some things about Bill Gates," he snarled.

"Okay, I'll give this kid a shot but meanwhile, I'll be looking for the best."

So, it was decided. In the morning, this brat Hadley would probe Ana's psyche and Christian would not sleep the night before.

ANA

Christian was calling to her but she couldn't tell from which direction. He sounded desperate. Wait, who sounded desperate?

Who was calling? And where was her daddy? It was very dark, no moon shone and even the stars were blocked by the forest canopy. She needed to get back to the house but which way should she be heading? She'd never been afraid of the woods and she usually knew her way but it was so black and she kept falling. She began to cry. No, no, she couldn't cry. If she cried, she'd only get hit harder. She was trying so hard to not panic but….

Then she heard voices, voices she didn't know.

"She's breathing too hard and she's drenched. I can't get her to wake up. Baby, baby, please try to open your eyes. It will be okay if you open your eyes, I promise."

"Sweetie, Ana, we love you, darling. You're safe. Open your eyes for Grace, please."

"Perhaps if we all just step back, give her some room and time to come to on her own."

A man's voice. He sounded nice. He might be a friend of her daddy's.

She opened her eyes and looked around for the nice man. There were men and women surrounding her. It was light out now but she wasn't in the forest anymore and she wasn't outside but she wasn't in her bedroom either.

One of the men was holding her face in his hands. His touch was gentle but he looked terrified. Was he afraid of her? No, wait, that couldn't be it…no, he was afraid for her. How strange. She felt bad for him so she tried to smile at him. She reached up and patted his hand. That seemed to calm him, his frantic breathing slowed and he touched his forehead to hers, saying, "Thank god."

One of the women pulled him away and told him to sit down. He clearly didn't want to obey the woman. He looked angry.

"I have to examine her. It will take me just a moment to see that everything is okay, Mr. Grey. Cooperate or leave."

The other woman was also wearing white but she was older. She stood next to the man and patted his shoulder. She whispered something soothing because he nodded and seemed to calm down.

There was another man in a white coat there, too. In fact, everyone except the angry man was wearing a white coat. This man was not upset. He was, however, watching her intently. She didn't entirely appreciate being stared at like that.

The bossy lady washed her face with a cool cloth. That felt good. The lady asked if she'd like something to drink and she nodded.

Everyone watched her as she drank. Odd. Why did they all find her drinking water of such interest? No, she shook her head, she wasn't hungry. The man in the chair started to lean forward as the lady next to him gently pulled him back. He was pretty, she thought. She liked to look at him.

"Mom, she has to eat something. Maybe when I put the food right in front of her, she'll at least pick at it." He pulled out a little box and pushed at it several times with his finger and then put it back in his pocket. Huh, she'd have to ask what that was. It looked a little familiar.

Finally, the silent man spoke.

"I'd like to be alone with Ana, now. I'll need everyone to leave us."

The pretty man shook his head. "No, absolutely not. Ana's been thru hell. I'm not leaving her with a stranger. What if you upset her? I've barely let go of her hand the entire time she's been here. I'm staying."

"I assure you, Mr. Grey, that if she becomes unsettled or ask for you, I'll call you. However, it may well be that she'll have things to say for which she requires privacy. She may have questions to ask that she feels she can not do with others present."

"Ana, do you want me to stay?" asked Mr. Grey.

She looked at him wide-eyed. I must be Ana, she thought.

"I want a pancake. Can I have one with chocolate chips?"

The man with the beautiful gray eyes beamed at her. Her daddy smiled at her like that when she asked for chocolate chip pancakes at the diner. She used to try to make them at home but they always turned out burnt and stuck to the pan.

"Yes, baby, anything you want and I'll be sure that they put plenty of butter on top, too. Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Ana beamed back at him. The way he looked at her did make her feel good, good and safe. He seemed to like her quite a lot.

He leaned over her again and pressed his lips to her forehead. She liked that, too. Then the lady he called "Mom" kissed her cheek and everyone left the room except for the one man in the white coat. He pulled the chair up close to the bed and regarded her for a moment before he spoke.

"You don't know your name or who those people were or where you are, do you?" he inquired very gently.

"I think my name might be Ana 'cause the grey-eyed man said so," answered Ana, quite matter of factly.

"Do you think that Ana is your name?"

"Well, my daddy calls me Annie but I don't mind if you call me Ana. It's practically the same thing."

"Okay, if you don't mind, I think I'll do that then," he smiled back.

"My name is Dr. Hadley and I'm a psychologist. You were very sick for quite some time so you had to come to the hospital for a while to get better. I'm going to help you. Would that be okay with you?" he asked.

"How did I get sick?" Ana looked perplexed. Her head hurt a little but otherwise she felt fine.

"Do you know what tumors are?" Ana scrunched up her nose and said rather impatiently, "Of course, I read a lot and I know a lot of things."

Dr. Hadley chuckled, "Okay, then, you had a bunch of them and they had to be removed. If you read a lot, then you know that brain surgery is a very serious surgery. That you came through it so well is quite remarkable. You can speak clearly, walk and move all your limbs easily, see and seem to have virtually no ill effects post-op. You're a miracle. What do you think of that, eh?"

"Was I supposed to die?"Ana asked Dr. Hadley.

"Some people do, Ana, but not you. Do you have any questions that you'd like to ask me?"

"Yes. Will my daddy be here soon? He must be very worried. It's just him and me, you know. Well, I have a mother but she doesn't care about me and wouldn't come anyway. That's okay. She might bring Steve or Tom with her and they're very bad men." Ana's lower lip began to tremble as she held back tears.

Dr. Hadley considered how to answer. Finally, he thought of the most obvious question.

"Ana, how old are you and what grade are you in?"

Suddenly, Christian Grey walked back into the room with a bag from the Mile High Club.

"Pancakes with chocolate chips!" he announced. Ana clapped her hand together and reached for the bag.

"They're kinda greasy with all the butter," Christian warned, "so here's napkins and, also, here is a big glass of orange juice."

Dr. Hadley gave him a cross look that Grey saw but that went unnoticed by Ana. Then, as if remembering her manners, she held her fork in the air while she answered the doctor's last question.

"I'm 10 and I'm in the 4th grade!" she grinned widely, as she dug into her pancakes.

'Your timing sucks," muttered Hadley.

Christian stared at the beautiful woman tearing into the pancakes and fell back against the door. Then he looked suspiciously and furiously at Dr. Hadley. "Outside," he ordered.

In the hallway, he all but shoved the psychologist up against the wall as Grace and Dr. Albright rushed down the hallway to rescue the young doctor.

Dr. Albright pushed himself in between Christian and Hadley. "We'll continue this in my office unless you wish to have security escort you from the hospital, Mr. Grey."

Once settled in Albright's office, with Grace's hand squeezing Christian's, Albright asked Grey's reason for attacking Dr. Hadley.

"YOU insisted that this young whelp talk with Ana against my better judgement!" Grey breathed fire. "Yesterday, she was fine, pretty much; this morning, after 15 minutes with your baby genius here, she thinks that she's 10 years old and in the 4th grade!

Great going, doc! If I hadn't come in when I did, you'd have regressed her to diapers! You're not going near her again!"

Grey was breathing so hard, Albright thought he might have to call in a nurse, one with balls enough to approach Grey at all.

"Dr. Hadley, what happened?" asked Albright. Dr. Hadley took a breath. He was not used to being roughed up by patients' families.

"I could clearly see that Ana was confused by the people and her surroundings. She admitted as much. She is a very bright child but, at the moment, that is what she is….a child. She thinks that her name is Annie and that she is 10 and in the 4th grade. I understand that yesterday she was childlike but seemingly an adult. According to her file, Mr. Grey says that she initiated a quite adult kiss with him. Her regression this morning may be temporary. Due to Mr. Grey's interruption, I didn't have a chance to speak much with her. I would like to return and continue my examination IF you can guarantee that Mr. Grey can restrain himself. I cannot learn much with his presence and interference," huffed Dr. Hadley.

"I want an adult psychologist," demanded Grey.

Again, Dr. Hadley sighed in frustration. "Mr. Grey, I am a thoroughly qualified and experienced psychologist. I also happen to know from the tabloids that I am 3 years older than you! Now, Dr. Albright, if you think that you can keep Mr. Grey out of my hair for another hour or so, I'll be able to complete my examination and will deliver my conclusions to you. However, if you can't guarantee me autonomy, I do have other patients to attend to."

"Mr. Grey? I am Ana's doctor. Do I have your confidence or not?" challenged Dr. Albright.

Well, no one had Grey's confidence but he sat sullenly while his mother answered for him in the affirmative.

With that, Dr. Hadley rose quickly and returned to his new patient.

"Dr. Trevelyan, why don't you take your son to get breakfast, maybe a quick nap. From the looks of him, he's in need of it. I'll page you to come to my office just as soon as I have some news."

Grace dragged her son out of the office and insisted that he have Taylor take the two of them to a nearby cafe. Keeping Christian occupied for even an hour was going to take all her patience and powers of persuasion. She thought on how she'd worried for years that he would never find someone to love; it had not occurred to her that once he did, she'd have even more worry with which to deal.

Children were such a treasure and such a joy and such a pain in the ass.

Grace watched her son push his food around on his plate, checking his rolex every few minutes.

"You know," she commented, " perhaps you ought to use this time to check in with Ros. You do still have a business to run."

"Right now, Mom, I don't give a rodent's rear about GEH," grumbled Christian. Then he reluctantly picked up his phone and called Ros.

Good, thought Grace, his #2 would set him back on his heels….Ros being one of the few people who could tell him where to get off. Having to deal with her would distract him for a bit.

As Grace suspected, Ros was looking for a scalp and Christian's would do nicely. He endured several minutes of ass-chewing, sheepishly spent several minutes of inquiring into neglected deals and several more apologizing for being a rotten SOB of a boss and several more minutes after that of promising to work at his own business.

Then Ros must have cooled down because Christian smiled, answered a few questions about Ana, her health and how he'd like Ros to handle the PR about both Ana and the Chinese deal. He accepted her reassurances about the Chinese cultural devotion to family and that they were likely to cut him some slack. All in all, 20 minutes of talking with Ros seemed to settle him down.

"Thanks, Mom, that was a good idea. Things are well in hand at GEH, tho' apparently there are several people, including Andrea, who are going to need some ego stroking after being overworked the last few weeks." He glanced out the window at Taylor, leaning against the Mercedes SUV, looking nonchalant but scanning the street for "issues". There were paparazzi scattered about watching the cafe and there were many more watching the hospital entry. Christian knew that with Hollywood style celebrities few and far between in Seattle, anything to do with the Greys was go-to news. Still, he never quite understood the appeal. Except for Ana. She was so beautiful that a picture of her crossing the street holding his hand would make the evening news. 'Course, she would say that it was the picture of Christian crossing the street that was the attraction. He smiled to himself. They were a mutual admiration society.

As he quietly mused on his Ana, thinking about her smile and thanking the heavens for her physical recovery, he heard the vibration of his mother's phone. His head shot up and he watched her face. She gave little away, mostly saying yes and nodding.

"We can go back now. Dr. Hadley and Dr. Albright have their reports. And, Christian, they rushed their reports for us. Please show your appreciation," implored Grace.

"Depends on what they have to tell us, Mom," replied Christian with a grimace on his face.

Taylor had the door open and rushed them into the SUV before the photographers had a chance at a good shot. He actually kind of enjoyed screwing with them. There were none he liked and he was always aware that any one of them could be looking for a chance at more than a photograph. He had also grown quite fond of Ana and resented that the pressure of paparazzi caused her anxiety. So anyway that he could muck up their day put a grim smile on his face.

Upon reaching the hospital, Taylor pulled the Mercedes up unto the sidewalk within a foot of the portal doors so that as they slid open, there was room to open the car doors and rush the Greys inside, giving the press no chance of a good picture. He couldn't do too much about what the rags printed or what the so-called news stations broadcast but he wouldn't let them have pictures if he could help it.

And as for the dirty looks from security guards? Screw them, too.

Christian held the door for Grace and then flung himself into the nearest chair, leaning forward and staring down the 2 doctors who tried to hold their own in his intimidating presence. Dr. Albright was having more luck with that than Dr. Hadley but then he'd saved Ana's life and Dr. Hadley had reduced her to a 10 year old who claps her hands at the prospect of pancakes.

Thus, Christian trained his CEO glare on the babyfaced psychologist huddling in the chair next to Dr. Albright's desk.

"Shoot," he commanded.

"Well," gulped Hadley, " I found improvement when I returned to Ana. She was still rather childlike but she no longer thought herself to be a 10 year old 4th grader. She'd finished her breakfast and was staring contemplatively out the window. It took her a moment to remember me but then she apologized for her forgetfulness. She asked what I'd like to know. When I repeated my last question as to her age and grade level, she laughed and said, "My grade level?" She really roared at that, having no memory of our earlier meeting. She has an innocence about her combined with a feistiness that is quite challenging. The whole effect is charming, actually."

Christian was out of his chair and headed for the door when Dr. Hadley called him back.

"I'm not done, Mr. Grey, and it isn't all good news so please continue listening. Thank you," he offered as Christian grudgingly retook his seat.

"I know you want to race back in now that I've told you that Ana is "herself" again but the news is not that simple," he cautioned.

"I've observed this kind of retro amnesia reversal in patients a few times in the past. Most patients who come out of comas with amnesia will gradually regain their memories. Most do not regain, lose and regain. And because there have been so few, we've had little to study to help us understand how the brain is working in these instances. The hopeful news is that most of the time the memories do return and settle in the present. However, there are instances in which the memories do not return at all or continue to bounce back and forth."

"Dr. Hadley, are you telling us that there is a possibility that we may not know from day to day, morning to night, which Ana is going to appear?" asked Grace.

"It is rare but yes, it has happened. I'm concerned that since this has happened with Ana that we may be dealing with just such a situation. I know that your next question is what can we do? I'm afraid that for the patients for whom this is an ongoing challenge, there has been no resolution. The confusion, if you will, seems most prevalent in the mornings, improves during the day and sometimes, not always, returns in the evenings. This would make it related to sleep and tiredness. Therefore, it is imperative, esp, in these early days, that Ana get enough rest and avoid stress."

Christian considered this for a moment. "You say that she seems to remember present times. Does that include her father's death?"

"Not wishing to set her back, I did not bring up any possibly distressing subjects. I, for instance, did not ask her about her absence from her home with you, Mr. Grey, or her whereabouts during that time. Of course, I also did not mention her father nor did she ask about him as she did before."

"Well, then, what do you suggest we do about these topics? Dr. Hadley," queried Grace in a slightly impatient tone. "Say nothing and wait for Ana to bring them up? Put it off until she has had more recovery time? You're kind of leaving us hanging here. I'm sorry but it's been quite some time since my rotation in the psyche ward and I am at a loss. Do you expect my son to hire a babysitter for Ana while he's at the office to mind her so that she doesn't have a setback and disappear again?" grumped Grace.

Christian had to smile at his mother. He felt the same frustration and was pleased that she'd brought it up before he did. He'd be just dismissed as an arrogant and unreasonable man but coming from the well-respected and eminently sane Dr. Trevelyan, these questions had merit.

Both Hadley and Albright looked highly uncomfortable under the mama bear glare of Grace Grey. She was many things: a long time physician at the hospital, a member of the board, beloved and respected and a major donor along with her son. Neither doctor was feeling useful at the moment and wishing that they had something to contribute because Grace Grey was looking, well, pissed off.

"Perhaps we'll know more over the next week before Ana is able to go home," suggested Dr. Albright. "Why don't we take a breath and wait and see?"

"The typical doctor diagnosis," snarled Christian, "wait and see…come back in six months." He got up from his chair so quickly that he knocked it over behind him. He leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek and said that he needed to see Ana now. He left the three doctors staring at each other.

As he approached Ana's door, he froze. The voice he heard coming from Ana's room chilled him to the bone while simultaneously bringing his blood to a boil. How the fuck did she dare come here!? How did she even get in?! Where the fuck was Ana's CPO?

He didn't want to alarm Ana. He didn't even know what kind of shape she'd be in when he walked in. How long had she been at the mercy of this harridan? So he softly pushed open the door, his arrival going unnoticed.

"I'll speak to the doctors and see how soon we can get you out of here and back home, darling. You need to be with family now," rasped out the smoke-damaged voice of Carla Whoever-She-Was-Now.

"Yes, that will certainly be for the best. At a time like this, a girl needs her mother, don't you agree, Ana? I'm only sorry that it took me so long to locate her and get her here to you but everything will be alright now," cackled the familiar voice of Elena Lincoln.

Neither woman realized that Christian was in the room until Carla moved around to the other side of the bed and Ana was able to see Christian's face. Her eyes were wide open and filled with fear. She reached out her arms to him and he moved quickly to her, knocking Elena off to the side. Christian leaned down, kissing Ana, and then moved to sit behind her and wrap his arms around her. Ana was trembling as he gently rocked her and murmured soothingly to her.

Both women stared at him with blatant hatred, their faces plastic and painted, with yellow bouffant hair and red lips and claws. Two vicious hags who meant nothing but harm toward Ana, thought Christian.

"Get out," Christian ordered, keeping his voice calm and low for Ana's sake.

"Christian, darling, shame on you for keeping Carla from her daughter. Her little girl's been missing for months and she had no idea."

Christian couldn't keep a bitter tone from his voice as he pointed out that Ana had been "missing" from Carla's life since she was 9 when Carla signed away her parental rights to Ray Steele.

"If she had known that her daughter needed her, Carla would have been here for her. You kept them apart but she's here for her now. Time to say goodbye, Christian," Elena sneered with a voice filled with bile.

Oh, how he wanted to smack that red grimace from her face but he needed to keep Ana calm. She'd begun to relax in his arms. She felt safe and was now just watching the grim little improv in front of her curiously. This was her mother whom she hadn't laid eyes on in 13 years. Her memories were of anger, despair, beatings, hunger and a loathing for her by her mother that she'd never understood. Ana felt tears brimming and beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"She's my daughter, Mr. Grey. She needs to come home with me. I'll take care of her until she's completely well. Then she can take care of me in return. I'm all alone now. My husband left and my health isn't the best anymore."

It was true. Carla was not yet 40 but she looked like a haggard, old lady of close-on 70…wrinkled, dry skin. Her lips thin and her mouth lined from sucking on cigarettes. Her eyes, maybe once ocean blue like Ana's but now faded and watery. She was quite thin except for a pot belly.

"Ana is not going to devote herself to caring for a woman who gave her nothing but grief for the first nine years of her life and then gave her away. Ana deserves to be cared for and cherished herself," asserted Christian, as he smiled down into the deep blue eyes of his beloved.

"And you were a fool to trust that this she-witch, Elena Lincoln, could secure you a caretaker.

Neither of you is on the visitors' list. I am having you both removed immediately and barred from returning to this hospital or to our home. And, Elena, I will deal with you later. You have proven yourself to be a danger to my girlfriend and will be dealt with accordingly." At this, Christian took out his phone and notified both security and Taylor.

"You can't get rid of Ana's mother quite so easily, Christian. She has legal rights that you do not have." screeched Elena, her face as red as her nails.

"Ana is not a child. She is of legal age, an adult who can speak for herself."

Christian looked down at Ana. "Do you want to give your mother legal custody of you or do you want to stay with me?" He was confident of her answer.

Ana looked at the pathetic figure before her. She remembered her mother as a pretty woman in her twenties and this figure in front of her was a ghastly stranger….but still.

"Christian, can we do something for her? I don't want to be around her but I feel bad for her. Please?"

He could refuse her nothing…even tho' he wanted her egg donor to feel half the suffering she'd put Ana through. Glaring at Carla with eyes narrowed to slits, he conveyed what he'd like to do to her. "Do you realize who I am, Carla? Hmm? Do you realize that I have billions and a heart filled with loathing for you? Do you know what I could do to you…what I'd like to do to you every night that Ana wakes up screaming with nightmares thanks to you and the brutes you unleashed on your tiny daughter? But Ana is not like me. She wants only good for others, even for people who've hurt her. I wonder if you'll ever understand what you've lost?"

Christian looked back down into the ocean of Ana's eyes. He smiled at her, his own eyes filled with love. "Okay, baby, whatever you want. I'll see to it that Carla is taken care of, for your sake." Christian acquiesced. "But you'll never have to deal with her again."

At this point, Taylor and hospital security burst into the room. Without a word from Grey, Taylor firmly gripped Elena's arms and dragged her from the room as she screamed that she owned Grey, he belonged to her and she'd be back for what was hers.

Carla leaned in to embrace her daughter but Ana shrunk from her. Christian called Sawyer and instructed that Carla be put on a first class seat back to Georgia asap. He also instructed him to call Andrea and have her arrange for a monthly stipend to be deposited in Carla's account. Carla was to have only his cell number and no access to Ana.

Then he slid down on the bed on his back, drew Ana's thin body into his arms and looked into her eyes. His own began to tear up. "Do you realize that this is the first in a very long time that we've lain like this, close and looking into each other's eyes? And do you realize how very much I love you, Ana?"

Ana smiled and snuggled against Christian, yielding to sleep.

Ana awoke to the warmth and scent of Christian Grey. With his arms around her and his left leg wrapped around both of hers, she felt safe and protected but confused. When did he come to Mac's diner and how had he found her there? And why wasn't she upset about it? She'd spent so long hiding from him and now she lay blissfully in his arms. The room was dark, too. Where were the street lights and why was it so quiet?

Suddenly, Ana felt frightened and her head ached, badly. She needed to move, to run, to find her father. She struggled to get out of Christian's grip. He was trapping her! She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out.

"Ana, Ana, baby, you're having a nightmare! Please open your eyes! Look at me, Ana! You're okay, you're safe!" Christian pleaded.

Ana's eyes flew open, wild with panic. She was shaking violently, terrified beyond reason.

Christian eased her unto her back, took her face in both of his hands and forced her to look at him. "Who am I, Ana? Say my name."

Ana stared at him for several moments. Christian felt his own fear. Was this going to be their future? Ana waking up in terror every morning, not knowing who he was? His heart ached for her.

Slowly her breathing eased and the fear in her eyes turned to recognition. "Are they here, Christian?" she asked. When she saw the question in his grey eyes, she tried to reassure him. "It's okay. I know they can't hurt me if you're here. Can you make them go away? Mom told them that I said the wrong thing to the police so now they're really mad at me."

Christian knew that Ana was talking about her mother's husbands and his heart broke a little. It always did every time Ana woke up screaming because he knew better than anyone how she felt. Yet, he couldn't help her as she had helped him and that broke his heart even more.

"Baby, they aren't here. It was just a bad dream. Do you understand? Those men will never get within a mile of you ever again,"

Ana looked around the room. "Where am I and where is Dad?"

Christian sighed. "He'll be here later. Are you hungry? How about pancakes? Any special kind you'd like?" The distraction worked and he breathed a sigh of relief. He ordered pineapple pancakes, bacon and orange juice from the Mile High Club and called his mother.

Dr. Hadley came in a while later and was pleased that Ana was calm and fully in the present. This was better than he'd expected. He'd been prepared to deal once again with a child.

"You slept with her all night, Mr. Grey? Hmm….I suspect that waking with a familiar person must have brought her back to reality rather more quickly than usual. I was afraid that yesterday's upset with her mother would have set her back. This is a good outcome, however. I will be certain that the night staff doesn't give you a hard time about sleeping with Ana. Nonetheless, let's not call it just yet. She is only at the beginning of her recovery and we could find ourselves being thrown a curve ball. It can take up to a year to fully heal from her severe condition."

Dr. Hadley smiled at Christian and Grace.

"Without reservation, I can say that I've never been blessed with such an excellent outcome and I'm pretty sure that Dr. Albright would be in agreement with me."

As Dr. Hadley said goodbye to Ana and told her to "keep up the good work", she stared after him, puzzled. As he closed the door behind him, he nodded to Grey and Grace who burst into laughter as Ana asked them, "Who was that guy and what good work did I do for him?"

"Nothing, dear. He's just a pissant with a big ego who is congratulating himself for something in which he had no part," Grace smiled as she smoothed Ana's hair. "How are you feeling this morning? Those pancakes looked scrumptious. I'm going to have to try those soon."

Grace had told Christian that if Ana referred to "those bad men," he should just assure her that they were gone for good and if Ana asked for her father, he should just say that Ray would be by later. By the time "later" rolled around, Ana would have forgotten all about it. It was trick Grace had learned while working with dementia patients; don't argue, just agree and the patient would soon forget.

It had worked this morning but they still weren't certain if Ana understood that Ray was gone.

ELENA

It should have worked. Her sources had told her that Ana had the mind of a child. If so, Carla should have been able to take control of the little shit and Elena could have arranged to have the two of them shipped back to Georgia that very day. Even if Christian tried to have the doctor refuse release, Elena had more than one judge in her pocket who would uphold the rights of the mother to have her child moved to a hospital close to home. What really tickled Elena was that Christian would probably have arranged for the flight to be on his jet in order to ensure his trollop's comfort. Damn, that would have been a hoot! Had it worked, that is.

Now she would have to come up with something else. Her source told her that Ana would be released by the end of the week and then it would be harder to get to her. Christian would have her locked up in his tower and surrounded by an army of security. Even if Elena were able to bribe someone at Escala to get the elevator codes, she'd only be able to get as far as the 19th floor.

Still the brat had to leave the penthouse sometime. Elena would have to find a way to get to her on one of those occasions. That would mean enlisting some muscle, some really dirty muscle. No problem, she had to chuckle to herself. After more than 30 years of moving through the gritty underbelly of BDSM circles in Seattle, she had the goods on hundreds of people who'd do her bidding or else.

Through her association with the elite of Seattle, thanks to her dear friend, Grace Grey, she'd been able to hold her head high. And most people still thought that she was the dearest of friends with the prince of Seattle as well. He'd never expose her since it would mean his own exposure. Thus, she'd been able to handle affairs more delicately in years past. Now, since the fool she'd trained so well to ask "how high, mistress?" had lost his common sense to a useless little girl, she'd have to get her hands dirty. Okay, then. Whatever it took to bring him to heel she would do. Once he no longer had his little princess to blind him to who he was, Elena would offer her shoulder to comfort him and her subs to bend to his will and he would finally rediscover the Master Dom she'd raised him to be. She would find her way back into his bank account and his family's good will and fancy galas. In no time at all, she would be once again be society dame Elena Lincoln….invited to all the right parties and asked to join all the best clubs.

She'd begun life dirt poor and worthless in the eyes of others but she'd climbed her way to the top of society and then she'd looked down at the scum beneath her. The ice in her veins began to boil when she remembered the last night she'd walked off the elevator of the 20th floor of Escala to find her boy seemingly playing scrabble with his housekeeper. She'd been horrified at such familiarity with the staff and the way that woman he employed treated her without the proper respect. Then to find that after she, Elena, had worked so hard for such a long time to find and train perfect subs for him…subs without limits, no less….he had gone behind her back to take in a silly, untrained, impertinent bumpkin? The girl had tried to shake her hand! And when Elena had simply behaved as any woman of breeding and refused the thing's touch, it had threatened to shove her out the door with a broom! Of course, Christian had intervened and shown her out like a gentleman but still….he should have dumped the girl on the street.

Later, returning several days after, Elena had found that the pass codes had been changed and she had not only not been informed of the new codes, she was "invited" to leave and never return by that goon squad Christian employed. Elena assumed that the insolent smart aleck had indeed been dismissed and the codes changed to prevent her sneaking back in and, thus, had called Christian to get the new codes and have the security guards fired. Her shock was almost disabling when he ignored, nay, refused her calls and would not answer her voice mails, texts or emails. From there it had only gotten worse. He took the sub out in public! He held her hand and put his arm around her scrawny shoulders. They took walks down by the water and fucking fed freaking ducks, for god's sake! Christian even took her to his mother's annual charity gala and paid a half million dollars for a dance! And Grace hugged the girl and told Elena that "she" was just fantastic.

No, there was no doubt about it. This debacle must be handled and handled with all due brutality. Heads must roll.

Ana had been home a couple of weeks. Her bangs covered the marks from the surgery and the stitches and her bruises had faded. To look at her as she chatted with Gail, you'd never know all she'd endured…unless you knew her body like Christian did. He saw her shiver with cold in warm rooms. He had to keep her from scalding herself in the shower; the water was never warm enough for her. He put out thermal underwear and sweatpants and sweatshirts for her in the morning. She questioned the need for all the clothes but wore them to please him. He put extra blankets on the bed and turned up the thermostat. He wrapped himself around her at night. Even tho' he was often awake at 3 am, he stayed put; no piano playing. She needed body heat. Ana was thin and fragile. Her frailty frightened him.

He and Gail worked constantly at finding foods that Ana would eat. She never refused but she would eat slowly and often just push the food around on the plate. Sometimes she would simply sit and look at her dish with her mind a million miles away.

Christian would invite Dr. Flynn to make house calls in the guise of friendly visits but Ana was a smart girl and she knew that she wasn't well. She would cooperate with Flynn, answering his questions, but the confusion swirling in her brain continued anyway.

She knew a few things for certain. She knew that she had little energy. She knew that something was missing. She knew that she needed to be with Christian but she wasn't certain as to why. She couldn't seem to find answers to questions that she couldn't even articulate. She felt stupid.

Christian had shown her books that she read but she didn't remember them. He told her that she'd graduated from WSU in just three years with a 4.5 GPA. That was smart, wasn't it? Yet she'd find herself standing in the middle of the living room not knowing how she got there. Once she'd begun to sob because she needed to go to the bathroom but she couldn't remember where it was. Gail helped her and tried to reassure her that her brain was still recovering. Christian reminded her that all the doctors said that she was a miracle but she didn't feel like one.

She tended to cling to Christian more and more. He knew that her extreme need wasn't healthy but it was the same for him. Having to leave her to go to a meeting made him anxious, not just for her welfare but his own. He texted every 5 minutes to Gail or Sawyer. They usually lied to him. If they'd told him that Ana was just sitting on the couch, watching the elevator and wringing her hands, he'd have dropped everything and come home.

Ironically, his desperate need to get home made him concentrate much harder and work much harder so that deals could be sealed as quickly as possible. The toughest deals he nailed in record time. Ros was very pleased and Andrea was enjoying the efficiency of it all. Of course, competitors were frustrated and the businessmen who were accustomed to slow and protracted dealmaking were dizzy, wondering what had hit them. Grey had always been a fireball but now he blazed right thru negotiations like he was ordering fries at McDonald's. He hit them with what he wanted and what he was willing to do to get it and if they hesitated, he was willing to call off the deal immediately. They soon learned that he meant what he said and that there would be no further discussion so sign or get lost. They signed. Ros grinned and wanted to sit around the office afterward, replaying the meeting, laughing and gloating. That had always been the fun part of the deal but now Grey scribbled his signature, handed off the details to his #2, nodded goodbye to the stunned executives that he'd just bulldozed and was in the elevator before they'd gotten up from their chairs.

Grey had always been known as a ruthless but fair operator but now his reputation became fearsome. People knew that he did deals fast and furiously. There would be no cocktails at one of his clubs, no dinners to establish camaraderie. No 18 holes to feel each other out, learn each other's strengths and weaknesses. Grey had no strategy, no tricks up his sleeve, no give a little to get a little. He called CEOs in, presented his demands and expectations and held up his pen. If a CEO wanted to think it over, discuss the proposal, Grey would sternly ask why the CEO had come to a meeting unprepared and willing to waste Grey's time. The fury in his eyes alone would make someone think twice about defending their position. Grey would hand the person a pen and tell them to get to it or get out. Rarely would they get out because it was known that no matter how badly Grey wanted the deal, he'd never propose a second meeting.

Christian Grey had only one deal that he was willing to negotiate for as long as it took….getting Ana well. He needed to get to that elevator, to that garage, to that SUV and to the elevator that would take him to Ana. He would walk into the penthouse foyer, drop his briefcase just in time to catch a flying Ana, wrap his arm around her waist and cradle the back of her head while he kissed her like the desperate man that he was. They'd stand in the foyer, Ana pressed against the wall with her hands in his hair, madly kissing for 15 minutes until Christian picked her up and carried her into their bedroom. He'd make love to her as gently as he could, mindful of her delicate body, but she had no qualms as she unhesitatingly claimed his body any way she could. She was as desperate for him as he was for her. It was as if they'd been dying of thirst all day.

Their bed, their bodies entwined, connected…this was the only time when Ana felt certainty and clarity. He'd say her name over and over. He'd tell her over and over that she was everything and that he loved her so much. Then Ana felt peace, her mind at rest.

Christian didn't know how long they'd slept but day had turned to night. He was hungry but for food or more Ana? He drew her tighter, her slender body blending into his. He could never get close enough. Did other men in love feel like

this? He could ask Elliot. Elliot had been "in love" often enough but, of course, it never lasted before Kate.

Christian had noticed Kate's expression whenever Elliot kidded him about being unable to stop looking at or touching Ana. It wasn't jealousy. It was more like sadness.

He knew that Elliot loved Kate; he'd told Christian that Kate was the "one" but still he didn't crave her as his brother craved Ana. Maybe it was because Elliot didn't worry about Kate the way that Christian worried about Ana. Maybe it was because Kate seemed so strong. Maybe it was because being in love wasn't new to Elliot whereas Christian felt like he'd discovered air. He was in awe of this woman, this gift in his life, this state of bliss that he'd never believed would happen for him. And he finally had her back. Safe. Home.

"Christian," Ana whispered, "are you hungry?"

"Hmmm, starving," he whispered back, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, his hand caressing her soft breast.

"I meant," she giggled,"for food, maybe dinner?"

"I guess we could eat food, then shower, then fuck 'till dawn. How's that for a plan?"

"I'd like to eat and then go for a walk." Christian stiffened. Ana felt it, leaned on one elbow and looked down at him. "It would be nice to go down by the water. In the dark, maybe the paparazzi wouldn't notice a couple in hoodies. And I could hold onto you and snuggle close and we could sit on a bench and neck like teenagers." Even in the dim light he could see her beaming at him.

Christian didn't want to say no to anything Ana wanted but he knew being out, especially in the night, wasn't safe. Christ, all she wanted was to be a normal couple and that was the one thing he could never give her. They couldn't go out for a simple walk without being tailed by at least a half dozen covert operatives in addition to Taylor following them and Sawyer scouting in front of them. So often he felt angry at the selfish man who struck a devil's bargain with a spirited girl who might instead have one day met a normal man who could give her a normal life. Yes, he'd changed but it was too late. He loved her now and couldn't let her go even when she'd tried to leave him.

So he took a breath and then brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Would you mind "necking" in front of a bunch of guys with guns and night vision goggles?"

Ana surprised him by laughing instead of groaning. "As long as you don't get carried away and start sticking your hand up my shirt or down my pants!"

Twenty minutes later, Christian and Ana were on the walkway by the marina, with arms linked, looking at the boats, eating cold pancakes packed into a brown paper bag by Gail. Ana leaned her head against Christian's arm and he leaned over between bites to kiss her head. It was a beautiful night and Ana was happy; that was all Christian wanted in life.

"Christian, can I ask you a question? It's one I've been meaning to ask you but I was afraid you might not like it."

Ana's memory was still touch and go. She often repeated inquires and sometimes the questions were trivial, like did she used to wear her hair straightened or curled? Still, Christian was nervous about every one of them. Since she'd come out of the coma, they'd never talked about how they met or how she came to live with him or who was the lady who came with her mother and tried to take her away or how come her father never came to see her. Good lord, there were so many questions to fear but they'd made it this far so maybe Ana already knew the answers to those questions. He certainly wasn't going to open Pandora's Box.

It seemed that Ana was going to.

"A couple of days ago I saw Gail go into a room carrying cleaning supplies. I was bored so I wanted to ask if I could help her but when I tried to open the door, it was locked. I thought that that was odd, you know, that she'd lock a door behind her and I realized that I'd never been in that room. Anyway, I knocked but she didn't answer even after I called her name and I couldn't hear her moving about…like she was trying to be quiet. So I just sat on the hallway floor and waited. When she came out, I got a glimpse of red and then she quickly closed the door behind her and locked it. That was really weird, I thought. When I asked her about it, she said that I'd have to ask you. Christian, she looked really nervous. At first, I decided not to ask because I thought I'd get her into trouble but then I had a dream about the room," the deluge of words stopped as Ana took a breath.

"What did you dream?" Christian asked nervously.

"Well, I was in the room and I was very scared. Someone else was in the room with me but I don't know who. The person wasn't scary, tho'. In fact, I got the impression that the other person was scared, too. Isn't that strange? Oh, and the room had a bed and there were a lot of things hanging on the walls and from the ceiling but I couldn't tell what they were…only that they scared me for some reason."

Shortly after Ana disappeared, he'd intended to dismantle the Red Room. He hadn't been in there since he'd asked her to move in…check that…'ordered' her to move in and Ana had never mentioned it again. He fully intended to never take her in there ever again and he also fully intended to somehow make Ana's residence permanent so why keep a room dedicated to BDSM? He had a very happy vanilla-flavored love life, one he preferred to the cold lifestyle he'd been brainwashed into believing was all he could have.

However, Ray's illness, propping Ana up while she dealt with it, trying to tend to GEH business…all that put the Red Room on the back burner. Heck, it wasn't even on the stove anymore. He'd disentangled himself from doing business with Elena and considered her to be out of his life and he never gave his playroom a thought. He was surprised to learn that Gail was still going in there to clean. Probably hadn't dusted in a while, like he gave a crap if the room was buried under. Well, he guessed that he should have given a crap because now he had to deal with it and all it meant to Ana. Damn. It was one giant Pandora's Box full of shit.

They finished the pancakes and he tossed the bag into a trash can. Then he led her over to a bench and they sat quietly for a bit, not speaking, watching the boats. Ana waited patiently; she knew instinctively that this was a difficult question for Christian. She cuddled his arm with both of her hands and tried to reassure him silently that she'd be okay with whatever he told her…even tho' she wasn't so sure that she would be.

"That room hasn't been in use for a very long time, Ana. Do you remember the word, "playroom"?

"Playroom," she mused. The word made her a little queasy but she couldn't think why. "umm…no. I guess not."

"It was a room that was once important to me. The room and the things that I did in there were things that stopped having any meaning for me, however, not long after I met you. Looking back I regret deeply that it ever played a role in my life," Christian paused, waiting for a reaction.

"What did you do in your playroom?" Ana asked so innocently that Christian felt himself breaking into a cold sweat.

"Do you really want to know," he said, hoping she'd let it drop, knowing she wouldn't.

"Sexual things," he gulped.

"We do sexual things," Ana responded. "….those kind of sexual things? And how come you did them in that room instead of in the bedroom?" She was killing him, just killing him.

"Things with rope and handcuffs and blindfolds," he choked out.

Ana got very quiet, for a long time. He wondered if she was starting to remember. Oh, please, god, don't let her remember, he begged a deity he doubted existed.

"Did I go into the playroom, Christian?" her voice was so small.

"Yes, just few times, Ana. You didn't like it so we stopped. Other women I'd taken in there wanted to be there. They found pleasure in the playroom but you didn't and I wanted you to be happy so I locked the door and never went in there again. And before you ask, no, I never missed it, not for a moment. With those other women I needed it to enjoy sex. With you, I just needed you and nothing, absolutely nothing else. Understand?" Please understand, he thought, please believe me.

"If you didn't have me, would you go back in?" again her voice was so small.

"No, if, god forbid, I lost you, I'd be done. The whole time you were gone I had the sex drive of a eunuch."

Ana giggled and his heart flipped. "You're the only one for me, too, Christian."

Christian made a mental note to have the playroom dismantled as soon as possible just in case Ana forgot about it again. He wanted to avoid any future discussions…like the one about to happen.

"I asked Gail how I came to live with you and she told me that I had to ask you about that, too." Ana asked this with enthusiasm as if she anticipated a cute story. Yeah, real cute. Okay, he asked himself, how do I spin this tale of horror?

He leaned forward with his head in his hands and groaned like a man developing the symptoms of appendicitis. There was no way around this and she was going to walk out on him for sure. Ana leaned over and began rubbing comforting circles on his back, asking if he was feeling sick. Yes, he admitted, he was. He knew he could divert her tonight but eventually he'd have to fess up. It would only be worse for him if she figured out that he was dodging.

"Ana, what I'm going to tell you is something I'm horribly ashamed of and wish I'd never done. My only excuse is that at the time I didn't know any other way. I'd known only one way to get what I wanted since I was 15 and to do things in an honest and honorable way didn't even occur to me. I knew deals, that's all. And even tho' you were a human being and I liked you immediately, I treated you like a deal."

"In my defense, tho' I really have none, you disliked me from the moment we met and I was determined to have you the only way I knew, do you know what I mean?" pleaded Christian.

"No. Why didn't I like you?" Now she was looking at him with a definite lack of sympathy and a definite load of suspicion.

"We met when I bought the publishing company you worked for. You can stop me at any point if you remember this." he said hopefully.

"I don't remember. Go on," she pushed.

Shit, shit, shit, he was going down for sure.

"You were independent, feisty and had a mouth on you. I was used to women doing my bidding, being subservient to me. Still I was instantly and deeply attracted to you. I made up an excuse to have you meet me at my club for coffee which I intended to be dinner. I behaved like an arrogant arse and you walked out on me. I was stunned. No one had ever walked out on me. So, naturally I wanted you more. I had you come to my office at GEH to ostensibly discuss your future at the publishing company."

To his astonishment, Ana threw her head back and laughed. Christian stared at her, flummoxed.

"No, no. Go on," she insisted, giggling like a lunatic.

"You almost walked out on me again!" Christian said, still stunned at her audacity.

"Ok, what did you do that time?" She continued giggling and tho' he usually loved her laughter, he knew it wouldn't last long once he got to the point of the story.

"You asked what I wanted and I said…..you….badly."

"Wow," gasped Ana, "you actually just came right out and announced that you wanted me? And I didn't fall at your feet?"

"No, you rolled your eyes at me and stood up to head for the door. Told me that if I wanted to fire you, you'd could be found at your desk at 8 am and goodbye jerk. Well, not that last part but it was implied."

"Oh, Christian, how ever did you get women to go out with you before me?" Ana was almost out of breath from laughing.

Ouch, thought Christian, could this conversation get much worse? Oh, yes, it could.

"Well, then, in desperation, I invited you to my penthouse for dinner with the promise of a deal you couldn't refuse and you agreed on the condition that it not involve anything personal between us." Then Christian took a deep breath. "I lied, Ana. It was a very personal deal. Very personal and crass and one I regret. In fact, I came to regret it that same evening.

Can I get you to promise that you won't leave me when I tell you the truth? Try to keep in mind that we love each other and that I'm very, very sorry," begged Christian.

Ana looked troubled and moved a few inches down the bench from Christian. He figured that he should have initiated all that necking before he began true confessions.

"I'd done a little investigating. I knew about your father's illness and that you were desperate to help him so I offered you a way out. I would….." Ana's face seemed to go white under the streetlights as she raised her hand to halt him in his explanation.

"take care of my father if I would agree to be your sex slave," she finished his sentence. "I was in your playroom because you extorted my cooperation in exchange for my father's medical treatment. You made me sign a non-disclosure agreement and wanted me to sign a contract listing what sexual acts I would be willing to engage in. You said that it was my choice but I thought that if I objected to anything, you'd withdraw your offer. You took me to bed and when you saw the blood on the sheets in the morning, you realized that I'd never before been with a man. Then you took me into that, that room and trussed me up like a Thanksgiving turkey and you spanked me.

You made me your prisoner, swapping my freedom for my father's life."

Christian didn't even realize that there were tears in his eyes until Ana reached over and wiped them off his face with her sleeve.

"You remember. Just this minute, you remembered?"

"Your face. Something about the angst on your face just now. I had a flashback of that night when you were making your "offer". You had the same expression…a mixture of shame and…and fear. I knew that you were embarrassed and afraid that I would reject you.

I knew that you were not just afraid of being turned down. You were truly afraid that I would leave…kind of like a teenage boy asking a girl he really liked to go out with him and being terrified she'd say no and break his heart. It was a strange moment.

I knew nothing about the BDSM world but I knew that you were a wealthy and powerful man who was trying to buy me yet you were shy and scared."

"I was overwhelmed with emotions….fear, confusion, pity, attraction. Hell, I even recognized feelings of gratitude and relief that you were offering me a way to help my father when I'd spent the last few years tightly wound up in worry and….and terror. Every morning since Dad first coughed up blood, I'd woken up from the bad dreams to the daily nightmare of losing my father, the only person who loved me. All day, every day, my life revolved around trying to find a way to save him, to find the money to get him what he needed. That's what college was all about; not learning or meeting people. It was about getting a good job as soon as possible. And then you came into my life and offered to carry my burden for me."

"And I knew that I should be angry and disgusted and revolted and I was deeply ashamed that I was really none of those things. In fact, the only emotion I was clear on at first was fear. I knew that your offer was ugly and horrible…still, it was impossible to turn down.

Ana was standing now, her back to Christian, leaning on the walkway railing. He sat on the bench still, stunned at her words.

They were not at all what he expected. True, she'd never shown him anger or disgust or revulsion but he figured that she definitely felt those things. Now he finds out that she'd turned every rotten emotion inward.

"Ana, did you know how I felt about you? I know that I never told you that I was in love with you but I was…. from the start and I kept trying to show you…I guess to make up somehow for coercing you into living with me 'cause I was living with some pretty heavy duty personal revulsion toward myself."

Christian needed to be next to Ana. He only hoped that she wouldn't push him away from her. He came to stand behind her.

"I knew," he began, his voice wavering, "that the only way to redeem myself was something that I could never bring myself to do."

Carefully, he slipped his arms around her, embracing her and kissing the top of her head.

"I needed to release you from your "debt" to me. I needed to tell you that I would take care of your father and you were free to go if you wanted to leave me. I almost said so many times but I just couldn't do it. And the sicker your father got, the greater my need to keep you with me so that I could take care of you. Maybe my need to take care of you was greater than your need to be cared for….I don't know.

Christian breathed a sigh of relief when Ana relaxed back against him.

"So you kept me so that you could take care of me?"

"No, not just that. I just needed you. I've always needed you. I just didn't know it until the moment I looked down that conference room table into those killer blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. I felt so many emotions that I couldn't identify them all. I was the great Christian Grey, wunderkind of industry and Master Dom of Seattle, always in control and I had to sit down immediately because my legs had turned to jelly."

"Also," he chuckled, "I had an instant hard on that needed hiding."

Suddenly something slammed into Christian, something that burned. He instinctively grabbed Ana and brought her down to the ground with him and covered her with his body. There were popping noises and people running as he tried desperately to stay aware. He heard Ana scream his name from far away and he tried to tell her to just stay down but then he felt too weak to continue to hold her. He willed himself to open his eyes, to look into her eyes. Those killer blue eyes.

Yeti and Sasquatch

The Waterford crystal vase smashed into a million glass shards that flew everywhere, as the banshee-like scream of a woman thwarted nearly burst the eardrums of the two burly men cowering nearby.

"You ignorant, useless ass wipes!" she screeched at them. Just the latest in a series of insults that they'd endured for the last hour. She had real staying power but her aspersions were lessening in vulgarity. They half expected her to haul out a thesaurus to refuel but she was panting and losing wind now. She was not a young woman and regardless of her dedication to hair, makeup and wardrobe, she was not inclined toward physical exercise…unless you counted wielding whips and canes.

With a sweaty brow and gasping breath, she bore down on the men in her six inch stilettos. Raking a red claw across the cheek of the one who neglected to duck, she glared with the power of a laser into his petrified eyes.

"Who," she rasped, "were you supposed to shoot with your little gun, Yeti?"

"Hmm…the girl, ma'am," he mumbled.

"And WHO did you shoot instead, Sasquatch?" she bellowed as another red claw dragged through the skin of the other very large man.

"The man, ma'am, but it wasn't our fault. We weren't expecting that much security. There were two guys, you said, but there were half a dozen other guys hiding all around them. We barely got away." He reached up to dab his shirt sleeve at the blood she'd drawn.

"Did it not occur to you that you could have used the element of surprise to get off a second shot, one that would have hit your actual target?"

"Ma'am?"

"Silencers, you ninnies!"

"Silencers! Whoa, hey, that's a real good idea, ma'am!" smiled the first man just before the woman scraped four red claws over his already wounded face.

"If he dies," the woman didn't finish the sentence but they knew where she was going with it.

"I waited for weeks for my opportunity and now he'll have her locked up tighter than Fort Knox. If she ever leaves the penthouse again, she'll be wearing head to toe Kevlar. Meanwhile, my salon is failing thanks to the loss of my investor. I used to be able to charge sizable fees to subs who wanted to work for the Master Dom but that income source has dried up as well. Marketable information has gone missing from my safes, I've discovered. I don't even know how long it's been gone but I suspect that little bitch had a hand in that after she had me banned from the penthouse."

I devoted more than 20 years to that boy, thought the woman. I knew from the time I met him that he would be my best long-term investment. All I had to do was plant an idea here and there in his vulnerable little head, wait out all the shrinks his parents sent him to, get to him as his hormones kicked in and begin his training. I knew that I could grow him into a rich man but I underestimated just how rich. All my hard work paid off for five years. I was closer to him than anyone and always would be no matter how much his sweet mama Grace and devoted family tried to "reach" him. I deserved every cent he gave me and I had plans for even bigger rewards in the future until she turned up out of nowhere. Yes, he'd been drifting before that but I could have brought him around again if only I'd had time.

"Never mind, you can't keep a good woman down," Elena cackled, as the men slowly and quietly backed out of the room.

GREY MANOR

The house was quiet. Grace was upstairs with Mia. Carrick was in his study. Elliot and Kate were strolling hand in hand toward the dock. Ana was alone, sitting in the family room off the kitchen, trying to get her thoughts in order. After having to accept her father's death for the second time, Dr. Flynn had taught her how to meditate. He told her that the whirlpool in her brain would begin to slow and then become calm waters in time. She tried but it was hard. She'd been seeing him almost daily and had begun to understand that the swirling eddy in her brain had begun long before the tumors, long before her wonderful and insane bargain with Christian.

"Children need to grow in a stable and consistent environment with love and care, Ana. Children who face constant turmoil, fearing for both themselves and others in the family are forced to use all their emotions and intelligence to deal with the deluge of threats coming at them. Try to imagine attempting to build a house in a valley below a dam break. You couldn't. You could only use everything in you, every ounce of courage and ingenuity, to try to survive. Long after the waters had passed and you physically remained, you would have nothing left to support you. You could do no more than put one foot in front of the other. A life of survival only….. do you understand?" he asked.

Ana had always thought of herself as strong. All her life, as far back as she remembered, she had to struggle. While her mother screamed at her father and threw her beer bottles at him, Ana tried to protect him. She tried so hard to be the best little girl in the world so that her mother would be happy.

When she saw the tears in Ray's eyes as her mother pulled Ana out of his arms, she tried to tell him that it was okay, don't worry.

When the men her mother brought back to their crummy apartment would want to cuddle the cute little daughter, she'd smile so her mother would be pleased and when those same men often got drunk and tried to hurt her mother, she'd try to fight them off and later told the police that she fell down the stairs because then her mother wouldn't be so angry with her.

Even after Ray brought her home, she never lost the fear that if she wasn't a good girl, if she didn't do things right, she'd have to leave again. Ray did everything he could to reassure her but the die was cast. She had to be good. She had to do everything right. This is how it is with children. They're easy to train with fear. They learn how to navigate the world in ways that protect them and those they love. Survival is number one.

Ana handled the bullies. She didn't play; she studied. She took care of the man who loved her; he was all that she had. When he was threatened by a disease she didn't understand, she applied all her energy to get him well. She devoted herself to getting a scholarship to WSU and worked 30 hours a week to support herself. Her plan was to get through college as well and as quickly as inhumanly possible in order to get a good paying job in a tough economy. Then she could buy Ray what he needed to heal.

In all her 22 years she'd learned little beyond how to survive and how to protect. When Christian Grey came into her life, if he'd stopped to ask her to describe herself, she would have been at a loss. She would have said that she was Ray Steele's daughter. She couldn't have told him her favorite color or her most beloved childhood toy.

And when Ray was gone and her brain was bleeding and the tumors were growing, all she knew was survival and survival meant flight. Now her brain was healing, so they said, and yet the urge to flee again was strong but she had to stay. All these nice people who loved Christian now needed her there. And so she stayed.

She rose from the sofa and began her walk up the stairs to Christian's boyhood bedroom.

Ana sat on the edge of the bed and gazed out the window toward the water. She felt the warmth of his hand before he touched her back.

"Lie with me," Christian beseeched her. "I'm cold without you."

"Do you want an extra blanket?" Ana asked as she began to get up to go to the closet.

"No, I just need you, just you," Christian answered. "I just need my girl in my arms."

Ana took in a breath and kicked off her shoes while she lifted her dress over her head. She pulled back the covers and eased herself into the bed next to Christian, curling against him with her hand on his heart. Her mind began to calm as she inhaled his scent and his arm gathered her tightly to him.

"I want to love you so badly, Ana," he breathed against her hair. She raised her head to look into his shining grey eyes. The way he looked at her…. He said that he worshipped her and she knew that he did. She didn't doubt his devotion to her. She didn't doubt that it consumed him. How could she ever leave this man?

"The doctors took two bullets out of you. One of them nicked an artery and you nearly bled to death. You were in a coma for two weeks and hospital for four. Sex should be the last thing on your mind," she whispered softly, brushing his lips with her fingers.

"You forget. This is me you're talking to. With you, sex is always the first thing on my mind. I've been stuck in this bedroom for a week, sleeping chastely with my heart-stoppingly beautiful girl. I think my heart seized twice on the table because it could see into my tortured future in this bedroom with the plaid wallpaper," he groaned.

Ana giggled and kissed his neck.

"Oh, yeah, that helps," smirked Christian.

"Well, I could leave you to get more sleep then. Should I come back later, my lord?" she teased but Christian looked at her, his eyes dark and serious.

"Don't leave me, Ana." Ana was startled to see fear in Christian's eyes.

"Christian, I was kidding. Christian? What are you thinking?"

He wrapped his arms around her, entwining their legs, as he usually did when they slept, like he was afraid that she'd get away. He'd begun holding her so closely when she'd have such bad nightmares that he couldn't calm her unless he literally imprisoned her in his arms. Screaming and thrashing in terror, she would burrow into him until she felt that nothing could get near her. When she finally calmed, he couldn't relax until he heard her even breathing and knew that she was at peace.

Sometimes he'd cry for this woman, this perfect, kind, loveliest of people who'd given so much and had so much taken from her. Somehow he'd make her world safe and filled with joy and lack of want.

"I was thinking of how much I wanted to give you, of how happy I wanted to make you and how much I failed. I don't know why you're still here. That night I was shot all I could think was that I'd never see you again, that I'd taken too much of what little peace you'd been able to find in this life. While I was in the coma, I could hear you talking to me, reading to me and I kept trying to tell you that you didn't have to stick around. I knew that I was in a hospital and I didn't want you to feel obligated because I was hurt."

"Well, now you tell me." Ana said with fake exasperation. You know, there was this really cute orderly who asked me to coffee while I was holding your hand and telling you about some business deal that Ros was excited about. I had to pass on his offer because, you know, you were unconscious and all and well…."

Christian was gaping at her.

"What? You think I should have gone on the date?" Ana said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Who was the little shit? Who the hell hits on a woman holding her comatose boyfriend's hand?" Christian was incensed.

"Then there was the physical therapist who came in every day to work your muscles. He had dreamy eyes and the flirting got pretty intense. He had such strong hands." Ana continued to keep a straight face while Christian's was turning purple.

"He gave me his number. Do you think I should call him?" She was starting to lose it, giggling like a loon at the outraged expression on Christian's face.

He moved her onto her back, holding her face as he covered her mouth with his, dancing with her tongue and deepening the kiss until neither could breathe, breaking away for a breath and then beginning again. His hands began roaming her body and then his lips sucked deeply around her nipples as his fingers reached down into her panties and slipped inside her, teasing her G-spot.

Ana arched her back, her finger dragging thru his hair, gasping for breath and gasping his name until she let go and dropped back down onto the mattress, her face red and sweaty.

Just as Christian was about to slip inside of her, to be where he needed to be, to be home…there came a tiny knock at the door. He looked down at Ana, bent his forehead to hers and begged her to tell him that she'd locked the door. She was still breathing hard but managed to shake her head no. He slipped off her and pulled the covers up just as the door quietly opened. They kept their eyes closed, trying to look like two people taking a nap. Mia, ever sensitive and delicate, tipped toed over to the bed and poked at Ana. "Are you awake, Ana?", she whispered. Ana sighed, opened one eye and said that she'd just been trying to get some rest. "Hmmm, we've had barely a minute to talk. Want some girl time before dinner?" Ana was struggling with the effort to not laugh. "Perhaps in 30 minutes or so. Christian is so peaceful that I don't want to disturb him. He sleeps better when I'm with him."

Mia didn't look convinced but Ana simply closed her eyes again and Mia finally took the hint. "Okay, I'll be back in half an hour."

Then she left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Ana waited until she was sure that Mia had gone back down the hall and then jumped up to lock the door. Christian laid on his back, not laughing, eyeing her body lustfully. Ana pulled back the sheets and then climbed atop Christian, sliding his solid cock inside her and leaning down to put her mouth against his. "You're not well enough to do all the work so you'll have to let me take over." she declared. He wanted very much to just pound into her until she screamed with pleasure but he knew that she was right. He drew in the sight of her naked body on top of his and closed his eyes to concentrate on the feel of her, the warmth and wetness that he missed for so long. She could have him any way she wanted and he would take her any way he could get her.

Like clockwork, 30 minutes later, the doorknob began to turn, sticking at the lock. "Ana, the door seems to have locked behind me," called out Mia. "Oh, well, I'll meet you downstairs after I get dressed, Mia, okay?"

"Hmm…okay, then. See you in the kitchen."

Ana leaned down and kissed Christian softly on the lips. Suddenly, he grasped her hand before she could walk away.

"You didn't answer me."

''I don't remember the question," wondered Ana.

"It was implied," said Christian. "I've put you through hell. Are you going to leave?"

"It's all been quite complicated,"she replied. "My life, my thinking, so complicated. I can tell you this, though. I'll never leave you because of a lack of love. That much I know, esp. after watching you nearly bleed out on that walkway and praying by your side during 2 weeks of coma, never knowing if you would come back to me. Whatever the circumstances of our coming to be together and the pain we've caused each other, I know that I love you. Now get some rest."

As Ana descended the staircase, she spied the armed men walking the grounds. She and Christian had been questioned multiple times, the police always hoping for new information. Christian had been home only a week and they hadn't talked about the shooting. Ana had her suspicions but needed to speak with Christian first. Meanwhile, the entire family was on lockdown while paparazzi swarmed the gates and were frequently apprehended sneaking unto the grounds. Elliot had pulled his best crew from his current project, infuriating an important client, in order to surround the entire estate with an electric fence. Christian was almost well enough to leave his bed and join the family on the terrace and around the grounds so it was important that no one be able to get close to him again.

Mia rushed up and grabbed Ana's arm. Although Christian's little sister was the same age as Ana she was light years less mature but Ana didn't hold that against her. She was happy that Mia had led a pampered and sheltered life. She was such a light, cheerful presence in any room. There could be no darkness to sour the mood Mia brought to a room. Ana wished only that Mia was able to better appreciate her good fortune.

"Come into the kitchen. I've shooed Gretchen away for the night and you and I are going to make dinner! With red velvet cupcakes for dessert! I'm sure that Christian can be lured down tonight. We're making his favorite! Beef stew, baked potatoes and a salad." Mia's enthusiasm almost made Ana forget for a moment that she couldn't cook.

"Uh, Mia, I don't know how to make any of those things. In fact, I don't know how to cook at all."

Mia looked askance. "No wonder there's nothing to you. What have you been living on all these years?"

"The lord's good will?" suggested Ana.

Suddenly, there was a throaty laugh behind them. Carrick stood leaning in the doorway and grinning at his stunned daughter.

"I think that Ana is being modest," he chuckled, "but not by much, eh? I know from the little Christian's told us that you kept house for your father from the age of 9 until college, Ana. What did you cook for him?"

"Well, I'd boil noodles but Dad had to keep on eye on them so I didn't burn them. I used sauce…. from a can, of course. I could boil rice and I'd mix in peas and canned tuna. He loved that. I tried pancakes a lot but generally I burned them. Dad caught a lot of fish and he'd clean them and grill them. Usually anything in a can I could heat up so we ate a lot of soup. I guess that's pretty much it. We never had desserts except when we'd go down to the Dairy Queen for a soft serve cone."

"For a what?" asked Mia.

"For soft serve. It's an ice cream. You've never? Don't you have a Dairy Queen around here?"

"We have a couple of gourmet ice cream shops?" beamed Mia.

Ana sighed. "Of course, you do."

Mia did her best to keep Ana in the cooking loop and Ana did her best to stay there. Sometimes, Mia would gasp and grab something out of Ana's hand before disaster befell them but gradually the meal came together. Elliot wandered in periodically looking for his dinner and marveled at the mess on the massive counters and the kitchen floors and then snuck out again. Kate wasn't much of a cook and he guessed that he'd be doing most of that but he figured that Ana had her beat in the incompetence department. Oh, well, Kate pleased him where it counted most, he had to admit. And she did know how to do laundry and clean up around the apartment….when she was in the mood. His business was doing really well so he could always hire his own Gail.

Finally, Ana set the table, mixing up the forks and confusing water with wine glasses but that was hardly important, thought Grace. What Ana did well no one else had ever come close to doing…bringing Christian out of his shell, making him smile.

Speaking of, Christian was trying to make his way down the stairs, leaning against the wall, breathing hard one step at a time.

Elliot raced up and wrapped a strong arm around him. His little brother being shot had really knocked the wind out of Elliot tho' he tried not to show it. Kate had caught him squatting against a hospital wall, his head down, sobbing in fear the night that Christian was brought in. She'd wrapped herself around him and promised him that Christian would make it. Who cared if she couldn't cook? he thought.

The family sat around the table, holding hands and Carrick said a little sort of prayer/philosophical saying having to do with the family's good fortune and then everyone made a fuss over the girls' cooking. Mia sweetly pointed out everything that Ana did tho' it was really more of a what Ana didn't destroy. Ana hovered over Christian, wanting to butter his potato and cut his stew beef and Christian let her fuss over him. She made him feel cherished. Grace held back, smiling at Carrick as he rubbed her back.

No one stopped when the doorbell rang. Gretchen would get it and it was probably one of the security detail wanting to use the powder room. They were a nuisance but a necessity. The family was surprised when the reason for that necessity, strutting in six inch Louboutins, shoved past Gretchen as if she were invisible and into the family gathering, dressed in a black leather jumpsuit and looking completely comfortable with interrupting their dinner.

"Good evening, everyone! I do hope that I'm not disturbing your supper. I was on my way to drinks with a colleague when I decided to make a detour to see how everyone is doing since that horrible incident down by the marina. I didn't realize that you'd be eating so late," she said, scowling at her diamond encrusted rolex.

Grace had heard about Elena's attempt to abscond with Ana and did not approve at all. However, as far as she knew, Elena was trying to do the right thing by reuniting a mother and daughter. Grace accepted her excuse that she thought that Ana would need her mother and she was dismayed at Christian's reaction. She tearfully apologized for her well-intentioned interference, and had been immediately forgiven by the good-hearted Grace.

"Elena, do come in. I'm sorry that you have plans but take one of Mia's red velvet cupcakes with you for later.

I think you know everyone here. You have met Christian's girlfriend, Ana. We are thrilled to welcome her to our family. She is something special."

"Well, of course she is. To be with Christian, one would have to be special.

Christian, darling, how are you feeling? You look quite pale. I'd even say ashen. Perhaps you ought not to be out of bed yet."Her voice fairly dripped honey but she wasn't fooling most of the table. With the exception of Grace and Mia, the others cringed in her presence.

"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Lincoln. I'll be getting Christian back to our bed right after dessert." Ana sneered as sweetly as she could manage and she enjoyed Cruella De Ville's furious look at Ana's deliberate use of our.

"Well, I'm relieved to know that Christian survived this attempt on his life and will soon be back on his feet. Ana, you're quite the little magnet for drama, aren't you?…. having suffered your own bout with ill health recently, your father dying after a long illness and now Christian is shot while out with you." Elena fairly drooled venom.

Christian put his arm around Ana's shoulder and pulled her close. Grace looked appalled. She took Elena's arm and steered her toward the front door.

"Elena, that was most inappropriate. Ana's been through quite a bit and needs all our support."

"Oh, Grace, I understand and sympathize with her troubles but my first concern is Christian. You've seen what she's put him through all these months…. supporting her through her father's illness only to later be deserted by her and then weeks after of dealing with her hospitalization. Finally, while out with her, he is almost killed. Grace, I worry that she isn't good or safe for him." Elena managed to fake a deeply concerned expression.

"I understand that you've always taken a special interest in Christian but I can assure you that he is happy for the first time in his life. Nothing before Ana has made him glow like this. He's even become closer to us. Don't worry. Enjoy your evening. I'll see you Tuesday for lunch," smiled Grace kindly, closing the door behind Elena.

Sitting in her BMW a block beyond the Grey Mansion, Elena pounded her steering wheel. "Nothing before Ana has made him glow like this!" she mimicked Grace in a simpering voice. She leaned her head back and began to laugh like a hyena. She wished she had a picture of Christian "glowing" after a session in her basement dungeon. That would certainly shut Grace up and show her the truth about her little boy. Maybe a recording of him screaming in pleasure as she allowed him to slam into her like a jackhammer.

Her connections in the Seattle PD informed her that the case was cold; there were no leads except for a couple of shell casings that had been traced to stolen .45s. Motive was assumed to be business related rather than personal. The target was, thus, assumed to be Christian Grey and not the woman he was with since he was blocking her with his body. There was suspicion that this was a professional hit.

Yeah, scoffed Elena, real professional. Without leads, the police assumed that Grey was still in danger. Perhaps if Christian himself was convinced of that, he would be less inclined to hide Ana away. Soon Christian would be well enough to leave his parents home. He would have to go back to work, surrounded by his army. Ana didn't strike Elena as a woman who would tolerate being locked away in his penthouse indefinitely. But even if she stayed put, there must be a way unto the 20th floor. And Elena would think of that way. This time she'd take care of things herself. She wanted to see the look, the raw terror in that little brat's eyes when she looked down the barrel of Elena's untraceable Glock 20. A bullet from that gun would break her face into a million pieces. Christian wouldn't be able to identify her even by dental records… but he would know.

Elena wanted a plan that would give her unlimited time with sweet Ana. She would take her into the Red Room and hang her from the ceiling. She would whip her and use the cane with extra special care. She would jam the largest butt plug she could find up Ana's innocent little ass and then belt her until she bled. More and more delightful ideas came to Elena. Finally, she'd would pull the trigger and blow her face away. Yes, that was a good idea. Much better than simply shooting her. That would be over instantly and Ana wouldn't feel a thing. Elena wanted her to feel pain like she'd never known.

And then Christian would come home, wondering why his darling Ana wasn't there to greet him. Maybe Elena could leave a trail of rose petals up to the door of the Red Room. She wondered if there was anyway to plant a video feed in the room so that she could enjoy Christian's reaction to the horror that would greet him when he opened the door, expecting the lovely Ana waiting to sub for him and finding a faceless, bloody pulp of a thing hanging from his ceiling.

The notion made Elena so pleased that she clapped her hands together, her face breaking into a great Joker-style grin. Let the mighty Greys sit around their elegant yet homey dining room, enjoying their red velvet cupcakes. In the not too distant future, they'd be attending a funeral, everyone in black and in tears. Someone would have to hold up Christian and that ninny Mia. Elena would stand on one side of Grace with Carrick on the other. Her friendship and devotion would be needed. She would be expected to return to the Grey Mansion for the post-funeral reception. Everyone in the better circles would see her importance to the Grey family. She would once again be Christian's only true friend and he would once again be her generous banker.

Happy days would be here again…the skies above would be clear again and we'll sing a song of cheer again. Happy days will be here again….sang Elena as she glided through the streets of the well-to-do toward her own unfortunately foreclosed but soon to be mortgage free mansion….her face one of utter and deluded bliss as she tossed the red velvet cupcake out the window.

Christian gave Ana his hand as he helped her out of his new, bulletproof Mercedes SUV. He gazed up at the shiny, red and retro exterior of Mac's Diner. Taylor and his men had made a sweep of the area and were assured that they had not been followed from Escala. Ana looked up at the building with no sign of recognition in her blue eyes but then, reasoned Christian, he didn't recognize the place either.

The door flew open and two people rushed out and threw their arms around Ana.

"Oh, my gosh, girl, we thought we'd never see you again. Oh, you look so beautiful, so healthy. Christian, it is so good to see you as well; you've been taking good care of our Rosie!" gushed Mac and Margaret, who'd been sitting in a window booth waiting on her arrival. They beamed at her until they saw no sign of recognition in her eyes. Their smiles faded in disappointment.

"Guess we're strangers, eh?" they concluded.

"No, no. Please don't feel badly. I just feel a bit overwhelmed. You are Mac and Margaret. Christian showed me pictures. I'm sorry that I don't and will probably never remember you because I met you when I had the tumors and the brain bleed. Much from that time is gone."

"Well, never mind, dear," consoled Margaret. "Come inside and have lunch with us. Now we hope the crowd won't worry you."

Crowd? Ana looked up at Christian. He squeezed her hand and smiled in encouragement.

Inside, the diner looked the same to Christian. Shiny, bright yellow walls, a mismatched selection of tables and chairs. Every table was covered with blue-checkered cloths with cheap plastic vases filled with dandelions. He knew it meant nothing to Ana but to him it meant the place with hope and the day before he found Ana again. Except for an empty table in the center, every chair and counter stool was occupied. All rose as one when Ana walked in the door, grinning at her with joy. They applauded as she stared stunned around the room. Mac showed them to the empty table, then waved at the crowd to settle down and sit.

"Now, as I told you all, there would be a good chance that Ana wouldn't be able to remember this place or any of us due to her brain tumors but that doesn't change the fact that we all remember her and what she means to us. So, now my special mac and cheese on the house!... with Margaret's own homemade bread and everybody drink your milk, understand?" Mac ordered.

Despite Mac's warning about Ana's memory, she was deluged with pats and hugs and even cheek kisses. Christian's own cheeks ached from smiling as he watched the tsunami of affection pour over a giggling Ana. People who didn't know him were thanking him for bringing her by for a visit. He winched through a dozen pats on the back but it was worth it. These people loved her and it was beyond a delight to watch and be a part of it.

Finally, the excitement died down and everyone settled in to eat their lunches. Each table already had place settings and now two waitresses in matching uniforms with Mac's written on the front placed large bowls of mac and cheese and baskets of bread and pitchers of milk on the tables. With a command from Mac to "dig in", all chatter was replaced by the oohs and aahs of appreciation. Christian watched Ana's eyes light up at her first taste. Mac and Margaret didn't begin eating, tho'. They just wanted to look at Ana. Mac reminisced about their first meeting out back by the dumpster and how he'd worried that she wouldn't be still here in the morning.

"Worried sick I was about you all night long. Slept barely a wink. Right from the first moment you looked up at me from the ground behind the dumpster, I was a goner. Betcha' know what I mean, don't cha', Christian?" winked Mac. Christian was too busy gulping down spoonfuls of his favorite dish to do more than nod vigorously.

"Yep, right from the start. Ana, drink your milk." Mac couldn't take his eyes off her. "I guess I have to get used to that name, eh?

Didn't know what this guy," Mac gestured toward Taylor who stood watching out the window, "was talking about when he called you 'Ana'.

Ana, knowing how deeply she'd hurt Christian, all he'd gone through, reached up and gently brushed his cheek in silent apology. He took her hand and kissed it, then motioned for her to keep eating, with a fake stern expression. She smiled and went back to listening to Mac describing her time working for him. She marveled that she meant so much to so many and felt sad that she'd never remember them. She apparently knew their favorite dishes, their spouses and children, patched up their cuts and put ice on their bumps and bruises. A couple of the men told her that they still washed up before eating and made sure that new guys did as well. The new regime she'd insisted upon, polite language and behavior, was still in effect as well. Mac's was the finest place to eat in the whole area.

Ana remarked on the diner's charm and Mac winked again at Christian.

"Well, the inside is all your's but the exterior was a gift from your fella here. He made the offer and, of course, I turned him down. So, I showed up one morning and there's a couple of construction semis out front labeled Grey Construction and all these guys are unloading equipment. This big, blonde dude introduces himself as Christian's big brother and invites me into his trailer office to show me the plans for my approval. I tried one more time to say that all that wasn't necessary and this guy puts a paw bigger than my own on my shoulder and says that his brother and the rest of his brother's family figure I kept you alive. He tells me that I can either let them go ahead and do their jobs or they and their semis will just sit out front until hell freezes over." Mac roared with laughter and slapped Christian on the back. Ana watched his face turn white and reached out to squeeze his leg.

Mac, Margaret and a dozen regulars ushered Christian and Ana to their car, exclaiming over the luxurious automobile and urging the two to return soon. Always a free meal, assured Mac.

Christian waved once more as Taylor pulled out of the new parking lot that Elliot had built and turned back to Ana, alarmed to see her head bowed and tears on her cheeks. He instantly unlocked her seatbelt and pulled her unto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she tucked her head into his shoulder. He let her cry for a bit before he spoke.

"Baby, what is it?" he gently inquired but she didn't answer. Christian looked helplessly at Taylor through the rearview mirror.

"I think Gail would tell us that Ana is feeling sad that she doesn't remember all those people who love her, sir," guessed Taylor.

Ana nodded her head as she wrapped her arms around Christian's neck and continued to softly sob. "Oh," said Christian. "Okay, then." He held her still tighter.

"Hmm, Taylor?" said Christian.

"Sir?"

"Keep in mind that Ana is unbuckled, right?"

"Of course, sir."

"Oh, and Taylor?"

"Sir?"

"Look into some kind of seat harness contraption that can be used for a situation like this." Taylor nodded and was silent for a moment as a thought occurred to him.

"Sir?"he asked.

"Yes, Taylor?"

"Just a concern, sir. I'm wondering if the existence of such a seatbelt for two might lead to, hmm, a consistent disregard for normal safety precautions, vis a vis, backseat seating arrangements, sir?"

"You have a point, Taylor. Still, look into it. Oh, and Taylor? I think I might have forgotten, in all the excitement of the past few weeks, to thank you for stemming my blood loss and saving my life."

"Just doing my job, sir"

"Nonetheless. I think I tend to take your services for granted. After all, I do recall offering a kidney to Sawyer for throwing himself on top of Ana even though I think the fucker enjoyed it."

There was a very uncharacteristic chuckle from Taylor.

When Taylor checked his rearview mirror again several minutes later, he saw that both his charges were sound asleep in each other's arms.

Christian woke up as Taylor pulled into the parking garage. Taylor gestured through the window for Christian to stay put. He wanted to sweep the garage and the elevator. He barked orders to the rest of the security detail and strode over to the office to question the guards regularly stationed there. He stood for several minutes perusing video footage of the garage, elevator and stairwell taken over the last few hours while he and the boss were gone.

Christian leaned down to kiss Ana's soft lips. Her blue eyes opened and she reached out a hand to brush his lips with her fingertips. Then she pointed to her lips again. His heart swelled as he placed his mouth on hers again, this time touching his tongue gently to hers. She gathered his hair in her hands and pulled his head tighter to hers and deepened the kiss. By the time Taylor had finished his security check and reached the back door, the couple were in full-on make out mode. Taylor had to make a judgement call; interrupt and possibly incur Christian's wrath or wait it out. Of course, waiting it out meant that matters might progress to a far more serious situation which could lead to embarrassment and more wrath.

Shit. These two were never easy. He wondered what Gail would do.

He chose the path of lesser wrath and standing next to the door but above the line of vision, he knocked gently on the window. He waited. Oh, for crying out loud…he knocked again, more forcefully.

Finally, a knock was returned and Taylor opened the door. He reached in and helped Ms. Steele off Mr. Grey's lap while his boss adjusted his pants to hide his erection.

Oh, brother, thought Taylor, why bother? I live with you. I lived with you all through the sub years. I know you'll have Ana's panties off the minute the elevator doors close even though you know the security cameras are recording everything and the second they open, I'll have to look at the floor while she climbs off you and then I'll have to sweep the penthouse and check the videos in the security office and then return to the foyer to allow you entry while I again stare at the floor while you tear each other's clothes off on the way to your bedroom. Then I'll have to alert Gail so that she can collect all your discarded clothing, at least as far as the bedroom door. I'd pick them up for her, 'cause I do love my gal, but by then I'll be in too big a hurry to get safely into my own apartment, get a shower and ambush my wife when she gets back from the laundry room.

Later, Christian's elbows gave out and he collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of his girl. He reluctantly rolled off of her but immediately rolled to face her and wrap his arms around her, entwining their legs.

"You didn't have to move, you know. I like your weight on me," Ana panted.

"Baby, I'm almost double your weight. I'm afraid I'd crush you."

"You've been treating me like I'm made of glass ever since I left the hospital, Christian. I miss when you couldn't control yourself."

"You're mistaken. I haven't been in control since that first day in the conference room but I have to watch how rough I am."

"I've recovered from my brain surgery, Christian."

"I'm talking about my surgery," he said with a straight face. Ana stared at him for a moment and then deliberately flipped over and straddled him hard, knocking the wind out of him. "Geez, woman, you nearly broke a rib!" Christian protested.

"Now how is that possible? I'm so dainty and delicate and damn near weightless," she smirked at him. He mock glared at her and then flipped her back onto her back, lying fully on top of her. He scooped her legs up and over his shoulders and wrapped his arms completely around her, their faces nose to nose.

"I want to bury myself inside you as deeply as possible," he breathed into her mouth, "and crash into you over and over until you come, screaming my name.

"Who's stopping you, Mr. Grey?"

"And even then, I don't want to ever pull out of you."

"Could I at least lower my legs after before I black out?" she grinned at him. "One can take being doubled over only so long."

"So, deal? You can lower your legs but I don't have to ever leave you?"

"Deal, stud," she breathed into his mouth before he crashed into her lips as well.

Taylor had sex-talked his wife into staying in bed for the rest of the day and night and morning. He knew Mr. Grey and Ana would rarely emerge from their bedroom and Gail had left several casseroles for them to reheat over the weekend. Gail was sighing contentedly as she snuggled against his chest and for the first time in….in..well, he couldn't recall actually..everyone one was safe and sound. When his phone buzzed, Gail groaned and it wasn't a good groan.

"Sorry to interrupt your time off, Taylor." It was Ryan in the security office.

"Someone's been trying to hack their way past the elevator sensors and the stairwell electronic locks. The monitors are stuttering. The backups are blocking every effort but the hackers are not backing off. I figure it's amateurs pretty much since they're so clumsy at it and are leaving themselves wide open to detection."

"Well, Ryan," Taylor tried to disguise his sarcasm, "if they're wide open to detection, have you detected their identity?"

"Ah, no, sir, no. I wondered if you wanted me to bother since they're not going to succeed?"

Taylor held the phone against his stomach since his chest was occupied and asked for strength.

"Well, Ryan, since someone is still out there trying to kill our boss, perhaps we should look into their identity, okay?"

"Just what I was thinking. I'll get back to you," Ryan said, ringing off.

"Yeah, right," sighed Taylor. "Do you have to go into to the office, honey?" complained Gail. "I should. Ryan's thinking."

Gail's laughter rang out behind him as he pulled on his pants and a t-shirt. Socks? No. "Stay where you are," he growled at Gail. "I'll be right back for you." She continued to giggle as he feigned having trouble walking.

Stomping into the office in his angry bare feet, he snarled at Ryan. "What do you have?"

"Like I said, the hackers keep trying. They either don't care if we know what they're doing or they're too stupid to care if we know. I don't get it. And every time I catch a signal, another one comes in from a different place. I pin one down and another pops up."

"They're either trying to get us to give up or think that we have equipment issues and lock down instead."

"But why? They certainly can't get in if we're locked down."

Taylor looked down at Ryan, annoyed. "Because we can't stay locked down forever. And the second we start up again, even long enough to get the boss down to the garage, they can slip their code right in and halt their hacking in a split second, counting on us to not notice the tiniest of blips on the monitor. Yeah, these guys are amateurs, all right. They're not aware of how state-of-the-art we are up here. They don't realize that we update almost daily whereas most security systems lag by months. 'Course, other systems aren't protecting Christian Grey. For now, continue what you've been doing. We don't want them to know we're on to them. I'm going to have to confab with Welch and Grey, damnit."

Taylor left the office well and truly pissed off. He was going to have to drag both himself and his boss away from their beds and their women and it was a toss-up which man was going to be madder about it. Of course, at least Grey was allowed to be irate while Taylor would have to be the cool professional. He'd better take a really cold shower before he got dressed.

Meanwhile, tucked blissfully inside his girlfriend, Christian Grey had forgotten all about the dangers of the outside world. Ana was breathing softly, curled against his chest with his arms holding her as closely as possible. She was well and safe and he'd regained enough strength to make love with her. Nothing could mar his happiness this day.

Nothing, that is, except the knock on the bedroom door. Christian decided that he hadn't heard a knock. Then his cell buzzed. He knew immediately who it was, of course. It was set to buzz only for the guy with the buzz cut…Taylor. Damn. Grey knew that Taylor would never call unless it was serious. They had both intended to spend their weekend off with their women so Grey figured that Taylor would be just as pissed.

Carefully, and with great reluctance, Grey pulled himself out of Ana and eased his arms from around her and slid out of the bed. He looked down at her, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"Taylor, I don't care that you saved my life. I'm going to kill you." Grey grumbled as he shuffled barefooted across the marble floors in just his pajama bottoms. Taylor stood in a t-shirt and sweatpants, equally put out as he motioned Grey toward the security office.

"Someone is trying to hack into our sensors. I believe their ultimate goal is for us to lockdown the system." Taylor explained as he yawned into Grey's face. "Assholes," he concluded. To hell with professional demeanor, he thought, as he flopped down on the sofa.

Grey flopped down beside him and silently considered the situation. "Welch, are you with us?" Welch's face appeared on screen and his voice came through the speakers clearly as he replied.

"Yes, sir. Barney is linked in as well. To answer your unasked question, no, there isn't yet a way to avoid having these hackers slip in a code when we restore the system. To answer your next question, Barney's been working on a way to stop such an intrusion but it is a tough one to fix. To answer your demand that we get it done yesterday, we're trying, sir. Just like a few dozen other geniuses have been for some time now. It is a weakness in the system for which no one has yet found a solution."

"Then let them in."

All heads snapped to the doorway. Ana stood there in pink flannel pajamas decorated with little ducks wearing raincoats, boots and holding umbrellas as they splashed about in puddles. She wore pink stockings and carried a pair of socks and a t-shirt.

"Please put these on, sweetie," she smiled. "You're not well enough yet to go about with bare feet on these cold floors."

She tossed the socks and shirt to Christian who obediently pulled them on while the other men marveled. The Christian Grey, tamed like a stallion happily awaiting a saddle. Then they went back to staring at the adorable little woman in the doorway.

"Ms. Steele, hmm, I'm afraid that you don't understand…" began Barney before Ana cut him off.

"It seems quite simple to me, gentlemen. Someone, and I believe I know who, wants to gain access to this penthouse in order to do harm, probably murder, to someone who lives here."

"And," finished Welch, "we'd like to keep them from accomplishing their goal." Welch liked Ana and didn't want to insult her but he wasn't used to women questioning his skills. Rather he was accustomed to using his expertise to protect people and, of late, a particular woman…the boss's girlfriend. He was both amused and irritated as he gazed upon Ana in her ducked out pajamas.

"Does it not make sense that if a murderer is willing to present themselves to you for capture that you should accept their offer," Ana politely inquired.

The men all looked at each other a bit dumbfounded. It was a simple and obvious idea and they all felt a little stupid.

"Umm…I am an idiot," confessed Welch.

"Ditto," agreed Taylor.

Christian just grinned with pride. "Ana, you said that you think you know who is doing this?"

"Well, yes, Elena Lincoln, of course. She believes, fervently so, that you belong to her, that you owe your success to her, that she made you. She sees me as an interloper who has taken what is hers."

"Okay, Ana. I'll agree that Elena is possessive of me and thinks that hers is the only opinion I should honor. And yes, she's tried to persuade me to break up with you…but I don't think that Elena is a killer. I don't think that she is dangerous." said Christian, shaking his head.

Ana crossed the room and settled herself in Christian's lap as she began explaining her position slowly and simply as if she were addressing a roomful of small children.

"First, she came to my hospital room with my mother in an attempt to, in effect, kidnap and move me across the country. She went mad with fury and indignation when Taylor physically removed her, screaming that she owned you and that she'd be back for what was hers.

Next, she tried to shoot me, missed and nearly killed you instead. I think her dismay over that misadventure shocked her into inaction for a time."

"Wait, wait.."exclaimed Christian, "you think that you were the target that night? Why am I first hearing this?"

As he stared at her in astonishment, Ana shrugged.

"I suspected from the first that I was the target but I didn't want to say anything until you were stronger. I mean, you freak out when I sneeze. Knowing that someone was trying to kill me might have set back your recovery. Don't be upset now. I was going to tell you eventually. I think Elena seeing us together at your parent's house spurred her to once again move forward with her plans to eliminate me."

All the men were staring at her, dumbstruck.

Taylor stared at the floor for a minute and then looked carefully at Ana. "What makes you think that you were the target, Ana, when Mr. Grey was the person being shot?"

"The bullet's trajectory, Taylor."

Silence again filled the room. Ana curled up into a ball on Christian's lap, taking her arms from around his neck and snuggling into his chest. She yawned again and shivered. Christian motioned to Ryan to hand him the throw on the arm of the sofa. Ana got cold so easily these days. He wrapped the throw around her and held her close as she began to fall to sleep. Then he looked at Taylor.

"She's right." confirmed Taylor. "I don't know why we didn't see it. We just assumed that you were the target because you were the one who got shot but if you'd actually been the target, it would have been much easier to shoot you in the back. The shots came from the side. An inch to the left and it would have been Ana. If you hadn't knocked her down and covered her body with yours…if you'd just fallen over, the second bullet would have hit Ana. The railing curves around with the walkway. The shooter was to the left and slightly in front of Ana as she leaned over the railing.

I feel like an idiot. Our assumption that you were the target blinded us to the fact that the shooter took his shot from what seemed like such a bad position. We just thought we got lucky with a couple of amateurs.

Taylor glanced over at Ana. He smiled. "If she weren't asleep, I'm sure that Ana would also enlighten us as to why the hackers are trying to force a lockdown and it isn't just because they, or rather she, want to slip in their code."

Welch's eyes light up as he suddenly understood. "Elena expects that the only person we'd unlock for would be Mr. Grey."

"I'd leave for GEH but I'd never allow Ana to go out." Grey concurred. "I'd make her stay here because I'd believe that she would be safer. After I left, Elena could get in to get to Ana. Shit, that murderous bitch!"

Christian beamed with pride as he looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms. "That's my little 4.5 GPAer!"

Long after Christian had carried Ana off to bed, the other men had stayed up strategizing. Taylor had been dead on his feet but Ana's revelations had energized him. She was right, he knew it. Unfortunately, courts still required proof. He chuckled to himself; he'd just have to talk to Ana about that in the morning. The other problem was that even if they found a way to prove Elena's involvement, if she couldn't shoot Ana, she would surely start shooting her mouth off about Grey's former lifestyle.

Again, thanks to Ana, Taylor and Sawyer had been able to gather up all of Elena's possible, rather probable, blackmail material. Nonetheless, there were 15 former subs out there along with possible witnesses from BDSM clubs who could present problems for Grey. All Elena would have to do is give the tabloids something worth digging into. Taylor would like to have blamed Grey for his privacy issues but he had to give the guy a break. He was only 15 when Elena turned him into a perv. He didn't know any better for the next 12 years…until Ana. Now the damage was done.

Taylor would never have admitted it to anyone but he secretly wondered about the advisability of disposing of Elena himself. He knew that he could pull it off. He could make it appear that when suspicion had fallen upon her, Elena had decided to disappear. After all, he knew, he himself had a horse in this race. It wasn't just Grey's reputation at stake. His bitch ex would love nothing better than to take his daughter away from him. A lot of judges would agree that a man who'd been helping his boss cover up perverted activities was a man who deserved to have his parental rights terminated. His ex-wife's current husband had even tried to persuade Jason that he would make a better father for his little Sophie, had tried to guilt Jason into letting him adopt her. Jason wanted so badly to deck the bastard but that would have only given the ex the ammunition she wanted to severely curtail his visitation rights. It was only due to Grey's money and influence that Jason had any rights at all.

No, Jason had to concede, he had no clue what to do about Elena Lincoln.

Jason awoke to the sound of piano playing. It was 3 pm and he'd fallen asleep on the security office sofa. Ryan was sitting at his desk, drinking coffee and keeping an eye on the CCTV. Jason felt bad. Poor Ryan had been monitoring the situation for hours now and was probably exhausted. Since the boss had been shot, Taylor had decided the security office should be manned 24/7.

"Any changes, Ry?" Taylor asked as he swung his feet off the sofa and unto the floor.

"Nah. The hackers are still at it, probably counting on us being less vigilant at night. Too bad for them. This is the first night I haven't had to fight to stay awake. I'm too busy waiting for them to make a mistake. Grey's been up playing for awhile. That's unusual since Ana's been home. 'Course, finding out that his woman was supposed to bite that bullet instead of him no doubt has him on edge. Why don't you go to bed?"

"Yeah, Gail will be up in a few hours and then I can't sleep anymore. Reynolds will be in at 5. Let me know if there's anything to report. Goodnight, Ry."

As he left the office, Jason knew he should take a left to his apartment but instead, worried about Grey, he took a right for the living room. He stopped when he heard Ana screaming. The piano went silent as Grey raced back to his bedroom.

Jason sighed and turned around, heading for Gail. He found her awake.

"What are you doing up, honey?" he asked, concerned.

"Well, let's see. First, you get an alert and you don't return so I know that it's serious. Second, Mr. Grey begins with the piano playing again. Third, Ana starts screaming. I don't know, sweetheart, maybe I'm just high-strung," laughed Gail.

"Well, as long as you're having trouble sleeping, let's see if I can wear you out a little," leers Jason as Gail giggles in agreement.

Ana was sitting up, eyes open and wild with fear. Christian gathered her up in his arms, one hand holding her head against his chest, rocking her. Five minutes later she was still shaking violently. He shouldn't have left her but he couldn't sleep. The revelation that Elena wanted to kill his reason for living had left him unable to sleep and he was afraid that his tossing and turning would wake up Ana. His beautiful girl had night terrors but he usually woke up before they got really bad and he was able to calm her just by rocking her a little. Tonight he wasn't there for her and who knows how bad it got before she started screaming. He said that he was sorry over and over even though he knew that she couldn't hear him. Finally she began to calm down and her breathing slowed. He could feel that she was soaked with sweat and it wasn't because she was wearing flannel pjs. Once he was certain that she was again sound asleep, he gently changed her out of the wet pajamas and into a dry pair. Her head was also wet so he carefully dried her hair with the setting on low just like he'd done that night so long ago. He'd learned his lesson. He wouldn't leave her to sleep alone again, ever.

And tomorrow morning he was going to pay Elena a visit.

PLAYTIME IN ELENA'S CLASSROOM

Elena stood in her basement "classroom", her latest trainee having just left. This one was promising…not like Christian Grey had been, of course. He was one in a million. Of course, things had been different then. She was in her early 30's and still a natural beauty whereas now "beauty" took a bit more work and the results weren't as appealing to young boys. She had to work harder to find good candidates as well.

She'd worked so hard for years to groom Christian Grey and it really seemed for a while that she'd struck gold. He was her pension plan. He would always take care of her, she knew. Yes, it was true that he'd been drifting from the life even before that Steele girl had come along but he'd still remained her "friend". She had him convinced that she was his only friend, the only person that he could talk with about his problems. He supported her salon and never noticed that she was skimming off the profits. A few more years and she would have had enough money socked away to allow her to never worry again.

Now it had all gone to shit. Even if she got rid of the girl, she wasn't sure if she could con him into providing her funds anymore. Still, it was the only plan she had so she had to go for it.

Those idiots that she hired to kill the girl had screwed up beyond belief. Good grief! They had nearly killed the golden goose instead! Oh, well, perhaps it was for the best. With her new plan, she'd be able to have all the fun of killing Ana herself!

She was sure that her training had left Grey unable to have a life without his playroom and that eventually he'd need a new sub but he had left her in such dire financial straits that she was running out of time. She couldn't wait for Christian to tire of his new toy; she would just have to take it from him. Grief alone would drive him to need a distraction. Elena was sure that within a month of Ana's demise, Christian would need a sub. That was cutting it close. She had managed to raise enough money to hold off on the foreclosure of her home. She knew people who were willing to "help" her keep their secret. Still, she needed to get into that penthouse, get Ana alone and soon.

Upstairs, she could hear the doorbell ringing insistently. Someone really wanted her attention. Maybe it was good news about Escala because she was chomping at the bit to have fun with little Anastasia.

"Well, what the hell do you two want? It's late and I was just getting ready for bed." Elena was not happy to see Yeti and Sasquatch.

They looked nervous.

"Well, we have some news and you ordered us to always come by after dark, ma'am."

Elena chuckled to herself. She always enjoyed frightening men and these two were more easily scared than most. This visit would cheer her up, she thought.

"Well, come in before someone notices you. I hope that you had the good sense to park away from the house."

They assured her that they had but she still looked to be sure. They were sharing a brain so she had to be careful.

"Do you have any news for me?" she demanded. "I want to get into that penthouse and soon, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. Our contacts tell us that Grey is planning on going into GEH on Monday morning. He always goes in…"

Elena sharply cuts him off. "Christ, I've known him since he started that company. I know when he goes in. Have we managed to slip in the new codes?"

"No, ma'am. The good news is that his security is convinced that their system is wonky so they're going to do a lockdown Sunday night and a restart when Grey leaves Monday morning. Our contacts tell us that you should have the new codes shortly after Grey leaves the garage. He'll want the system up again as soon as possible. We'll be right around the corner, ready to enter. As soon as we've tied up the housekeeper and taken care of the lady's CPO, we'll call you."

"No, no. Taser both the housekeeper and the CPO and then slit their throats. I want to enjoy Ana's company without any chance of interruption. For god's sake, remember to use the stairway. Tase the brat. I want her to wake up hanging from the ceiling. Oh, the expression on her face when she opens her eyes!" Elena was filled to overflowing with glee thinking about Ana's fear.

"Yes, ma'am. Umm, we were wondering if we might have a little fun with the girl before you arrive. She is a really pretty girl and we've taken so many risks and will be taking so many more so we thought that we maybe deserved a bit of fun, too."

Elena's eyes narrowed to slits like a crocodile as she slashed out at Yeti with her red claws. He yelped in pain as she dug deep into his already wounded cheek.

"RISKS, RISKS!" she screeched. "I've taken all the risks just hiring you two goons!"

That was when she saw something in Yeti's eyes that put her on guard. He picked up a pashmina throw from her sofa and wiped the blood from his cheek. As she began to yell at him for using her expensive throw to mop up blood, he backhanded her, knocking her into a chair. He liked the fear in her eyes. He looked over at Sasquatch and nodded. His buddy pulled a length of rope from the bag he'd brought along with him. As Elena tried to rise from the chair, Sasquatch shoved her back down and began wrapping the rope around her, tying her to the chair. The fear in her eyes increased and tears began to spill. Sasquatch liked that.

"We talked to our contacts at the SPD today, ma'am," snarled Yeti. It seems that they've had some luck in tracing that .45 that you gave us to shoot the girl. You weren't as smart as you thought about buying it off a street dealer. The SPD has CCTV footage of the sale. The cops know it was a woman doing the buying and they think they've got a good lead on the dealer. It's only a matter of time before they connect the dots. Then they'll come looking to talk to you and they'll connect you to us. Heck, you'll probably just give us up. We know that you have a lot of important people in your pocket thanks to your little hobby. They'll get you off if they know what's good for them, won't they, ma'am?"

"Yeah," said Sasquatch, "we already figured out that you'd give them some cock and bull story about buying some self-protection because we threatened you. Next thing you know, we're up for attempted murder of an important guy like Christian Grey and you're testifying against us."

"No, no," swore Elena, "I'd never do that." Her head flew back as Sasquatch backhanded her other cheek. "I really want to punch you but that would probably knock you out and we want you very much awake for everything we're going to do to you tonight before we leave."

"Yeah," growled Yeti, "we want you conscious and pleading for mercy. Though we're a little concerned that we won't be rough enough for someone like you."

"Oh, you forget, buddy, Elena doesn't like getting pain. She likes giving it."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Are you excited, Elena? 'Cause we sure are," Yeti laughed maniacally. Elena had never known such terror after decades of enjoying dishing it out. She felt a warm stream of urine trickling down her leg and hoped it would all be over quickly. They were, after all, amateurs and were sure to kill her without intending to.

She was wrong.

Christian opened his eyes to see a pink dawn shining through the bedroom windows. He felt the warmth of Ana's back tucked against his chest and the fragrance of her skin with his nose nuzzled into her neck. With their legs entwined and his arms wrapped tightly around her soft body, life was complete. Life was perfection…until he remembered. Elena wanted to destroy his life. She wanted his Ana cold and dead. He held on to her tighter, his heart clenching with fear. That could never happen. The notion of a day without Ana sent chills through him. Today he would hire more security and today he would confront Elena. He would make her understand that her life would finish with Ana's. He didn't know if he could get through to her, however. He considered that Elena was no longer a reasonable human being. Maybe she never had been. Her inhumanity had just been disguised as long as she got exactly what she wanted to dish out. Hundreds of hours in her 'classroom' being beaten, his flesh flayed. That could not be described as human behavior. Still, talking to her today was a last ditch effort. If he felt that he hadn't gotten through to her, he would have to contemplate more desperate measures with which to deal with her. He would do anything, anything, to stop her from taking away his reason for being.

It physically hurt to disentangle himself from Ana but he knew that her nightmares came only in the dead of night and that she would sleep for several more hours. He hoped to return soon enough to shower with her. He almost had to laugh at himself…even showering without her was no longer an option. He knew that he would soon have to go back into the office. Ros was happy and was doing a great job but her wife was ready to kill him. He understood, of course. He'd feel the same way if the absence of Ros meant that he had to be away from Ana 12 hours a day. Gwen had emailed him numerous times, ordering him to get his ass back to work and send her wife home. He determined to put them both on one of his jets and send them to his house in Aspen for at least 2 weeks. Maybe he should make that 3 weeks. Gwen was really pissed.

He also knew that Ana was mostly recovered from her surgeries and traumas. Any day now she was going to want to go back to work, as well. Thus, both of them would soon be returning to reality, normal life. Ugh.

But, first, he had to remove the threat hanging over their heads. A death threat, no less. He'd done everything he thought necessary to remove Elena from his life. She had no more blackmail material. Pleasant, non-threatening visits by his lawyers to his former submissives had reassured him that none held ill will toward him, all were settled into comfortable lives that they didn't wish disrupted and none had been contacted by Elena to help her with revenge. Even the ones who'd been dismissed because they wanted love from Christian had gone on to other partners and were happy. Members of BDSM clubs that he had frequented no more wanted exposure than he did so they were not threats. All that remained was Elena's intention to kill his lover. Yeah, that was all, he smirked to himself.

His phone buzzed…the buzzed one himself calling to rouse Christian.

"Yeah, Taylor, I'll be out in 15, okay?"

Heaving a great sigh, Christian left the bed, turning back only to tuck the covers around Ana and kiss her forehead. Maybe when he returned, they'd make love. The promise of holding her lightened his load.

After showering and dressing in his most intimidating CEO attire, Christian settled into the backseat of his Mercedes SUV with Taylor at the wheel and Sawyer riding shotgun. He momentarily wondered if perhaps he should have used his R8 instead. It was the more awe-inspiring vehicle and he certainly wanted to overwhelm Elena but then Sawyer would have had to bring a second vehicle. Besides, he'd seen his reflection in the glass of GEH when he stepped out of the Mercedes and he liked the impression of chilling power it gave. He never before had had to bring his powers of intimidation to bear on Elena to the degree that he had to today.

As Taylor opened his door and Grey topped the steps of Elena's mansion to ring her bell, he froze. The door was slightly ajar and there was blood on the knob.

Taylor, standing right behind Grey, firmly moved Christian to his rear and motioned to Sawyer to leave the SUV and join them at the door.

"Stay, Mr. Grey."

"Wait for my signal," he ordered Sawyer, then Taylor drew his weapon and gently nudged open the door with his shoe, stepping inside. Sawyer had Grey move back down the steps as he pulled out his phone.

"Who are you calling, Sawyer?" asked Grey. He didn't want the police notified..not just yet.

"Reynolds, sir. If you recall, we released the lockdown this morning and the penthouse is now vulnerable. I want men posted at all entries and outside your bedroom door as well. Ms. Steele is, umm, sleeping in as usual, I assume?"

"Yes, she won't be up for another hour at least."

"Good, it will be easier to, umm, contain her. No offense, sir, but you know her, sir," Sawyer replied nervously. He didn't want to chance insulting his boss's girlfriend but she was something of a loose cannon.

Grey smiled, "Understood."

Minutes passed like hours and a dozen possible scenarios flashed through Grey's mind as they waited on Taylor's return. It was barely 7 a.m. Elena was an early riser which was why Grey was here now but she would usually be puttering around her kitchen, making coffee and breakfast and fueling up for a morning session in her classroom with her latest sub. However, it was too soon for her sub to arrive and anyway she wouldn't have left her door open to him to walk right in. Such freedom and familiarity was not becoming the dom/submissive relationship, esp., with Elena's superior attitude. He'd always had to ring the bell and then remove himself to the bottom of the steps. She would make him wait. He wasn't allowed to fidget, either. He must stand stark still until she deigned to open the door and acknowledge his presence after which she would indicate with a wave of her hand that he was to go around to the back, the "service" door…more schooling in humiliation. Had she changed her modus operandi? Perhaps added a smear of blood to heighten the subs fear of what was to come? He recalled quaking as he stood in her driveway, both in fear and excitement, as he wondered about the hours to come and what she had planned for that day's lesson.

After much too long a time, Taylor reappeared on the front steps. Grey had never seen him truly disturbed except for the time that Gail had appendicitis. Now his face was ashen. He walked down to Grey to report.

"Sir, at first appearance it would seem that there has been a burglary although I think that is merely a ruse. The house is completely trashed and to do that to a house of this size would have taken quite some time. Burglars won't usually chance spending that much time in a home. There are also traces of blood everywhere but I've been unable to find a source. I mean, I assume the source is a human body but I haven't found one anywhere. How do you wish to proceed?" There was a tremor to Taylor's voice. He thought himself impervious to violence and its results but it had been many years since his days on the force and even more since his time in the service. Between Gail and Ana he'd probably gotten soft, he guessed.

"You say that you've been through every room and every closet in your search for a body?" asked Grey in voice stronger than he felt.

"Yes, sir," answered Taylor, "even the basement."

"Not all of the basement, I'm sure," replied Grey. "It is safe to go in?"

"Yes, sir. Any intruders are gone."

"Very well. Follow me, " Grey ordered. He knew of one room that he was certain Taylor had not searched. He didn't want to check it out himself but no one else, including the police, would know where to look. He had to look inside even if it was a place he had never again wanted to venture. It would also be necessary to leave the hidden door ajar for the police.

What he walked into made him feel ill. It was as if a tornado had torn through Elena's usually immaculate house. There was not a single piece of furniture left intact. The doors on the kitchen cabinets were torn off their hinges. Every expensive knick-knack smashed. Her cabinet of precious Waterford, Baccarat and Lalique crystal obliterated; shards of it covered with blood as if they'd been used to cut and stab. He continued walking through the hallway as quickly as possible to the basement door, down the stairs and through the 30 seat theatre room to behind the movie screen where he reached up to a hidden lever. Covering his hand with his jacket sleeve to avoid leaving fingerprints, he turned the handle and a portion of the wall slid back to reveal a room twice the size of his red room and filled with a thousand more instruments of torture. Elena called herself a Dominant but she practiced a form of BDSM that would have made the Marquis de Sade blanche. For Elena there was no masochism in BDSM. It was all sadism. This room was used to torture. He hadn't been in here for more than six years and, looking at it now, he wondered how he'd survived, how he'd kept his injuries secret from his family.

Turning away from the scene before him, Grey used his elbow to push a button to raise the theatre screen, leaving the secret door exposed. Then, using all his inner strength to avoid vomiting, he lead his men back up the stairs. They'd been careful to avoid stepping in anything that could leave footprints. Now Taylor and Sawyer, like Grey, were trying to avoid leaving vomit. They didn't want the police to know that they'd been in the basement…that they'd seen what they'd seen.

Even though he'd let Ana know that he'd be late getting back to the penthouse, she instinctively knew that the reason for his late homecoming wasn't good. She'd been pacing back and forth in front of the elevator for an hour and Gail had cleaned the kitchen repeatedly. Neither of them knew where their men and Sawyer had gone so early but after last night's meeting they suspected that it had something to do with the threat from Elena. And there were security men in every corner of the place, it seemed. Ana had explained to Gail that the sensors had been compromised since Christian had left that morning and, hence, the extra protection.

When Christian exited the elevator, Ana immediately jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Gail's greeting for Jason was no less enthusiastic even if she did keep her feet on the floor. Christian sat on the couch with Ana in his lap, holding on to her for dear life while Jason sat at the breakfast counter with his arms around Gail.

"Sawyer, could you check in with Reynolds and report back?" asked Taylor. "I'd like to think we're in the clear but….,"he trailed off.

"Christian, where did you go this morning and what took you so long to return? Gail and I were going crazy with worry!" chided Ana.

Christian drew in a ragged breath. This was really a conversation that he did not want to have but it wasn't avoidable. So, he began by explaining that he had gone over to Elena's in hopes of discouraging her from continuing her efforts to get rid of Ana…by murder or otherwise.

"The police are under the impression that we got no further into the house than the foyer and then called them to report a possible break-in. Should they ask to speak with either of you, that's the story, ok?" Grey cautioned.

"Well, what reason did you give them for being there in the first place?" queried Gail.

"A version of the truth. Elena was angry with me for withdrawing my financial support and blamed me and Ana's influence on me for her failing salon. She'd been making threats so I went over there to talk with her and to offer her monetary aid for the sake of her longtime friendship with my mother. They bought it, we're sure, because then they told us what they'd found in the basement."

"Elena?" suspected Ana.

Christian gulped. "Do you want to hear this?"

Ana kissed his lips softly and leaned into him. "My Mr. Grey is gray. So, I'm guessing that it was awful."

"It was," allowed Christian, "like nothing I've ever imagined. I don't know if even Elena deserved what was done to her. I always thought that she was malignantly inventive but whoever did this to her took maliciousness to new heights. Or is it lows? My guess is that her attacker or attackers were former subs, people with deeply serious mental damage and anger issues due to Elena."

"With Elena gone, will security be lifted?" asked Gail, hopefully.

"No, no," jumped in Taylor, "and when you go for groceries, you're gonna have to ask the security ring to part so you can see the shelves. There are still maniacs out there and we don't know if they're done. In fact, we're hoping said maniacs will still walk into our trap."

"Taylor, I'd like to ship Ana and Gail out to Aspen until this is over," suggested Christian.

"So would I, sir," said Taylor, "but we can't count on these guys believing that their intended victim is still home. They won't break in if they think Ana isn't here. I'm all for Gail being flown out, tho'."

"As if," scoffed Gail. "I'm not leaving Ana. Besides, if they see me going, they might think that you somehow smuggled Ana out, too." Taylor looked displeased. "You're being stubborn, honey."

"Yep," agreed Gail.

"Christian," Taylor looked to Grey pleadingly, "change her mind! You're her boss. Order her to get the hell out of Dodge!"

Christian sighed, "Gail, maybe Taylor is right. You can fly out tonight. We can make it look like you're just going out for groceries."

"Nope." You'll have to fire me," Gail stood with her arms crossed and her chin jutting out.

"Okay," sighed Christian, "you're fired."

Ana and Gail roared with laughter while Christian and Jason looked defeated.

While Ana and Gail remained strong and seemingly unafraid, Jason and Christian were increasingly worried and anxious. Maybe it was because of what they'd been forced to see in that basement and, thus, knew what these men were capable of. Maybe it was because they felt the responsibility of protecting their women. They were ready for intruders. They had made certain that there were plenty of armed men littering the apartment. They wanted to hold on to Ana and Gail constantly. Gail had never known Taylor to be so clingy.

After all she'd been through, her own traumas and Christian being shot, Ana was accustomed to Christian following her around. She'd spent her life being mostly alone and now she had a wonderful man who needed to be with her all the time. She wasn't afraid of being alone but understood why Christian was always so desperate to be with her. She felt such a deep and abiding love for him that all she wanted to do was protect him as well.

She heard him and Taylor discussing the ways and means of ending this torturous wait. Every idea came up and was shot down again. They all seemed dangerous, too risky. They hoped that the police would find the killers but the SPD seemed as helpless as them. They hadn't told the police about the intruders having a way into the penthouse. They didn't trust the police to not screw up.

It was increasingly apparent to both men that if the killers wanted to get to Ana for whatever reason, maybe just the fact that they were crazy, they would not attempt an attack as long as Taylor and Christian were home. However, there was no way that either man was going to leave.

Ana and Gail wondered aloud to them about the possibility that these killers didn't even want to get to Ana. Ana theorized that they had worked for Elena but had decided to turn on her. If she was gone, wouldn't they now lack motive to go after Ana?

Yes, agreed Christian and Jason, that made sense but after what they'd seen in that basement, they didn't believe that these men operated on sense. If they and Elena had been working so diligently to find a way in, maybe even with her dead, they would continue to move forward with their plan…sort of like being on autopilot. Perhaps they had their own reasons for getting to Ana.

Even if none of it made sense, what remained was that very bad men were out there and until they were stopped, Ana was in grave danger of being their target….again.

Christian slept very little. He wanted to get out of bed and play the piano or meet with an equally sleepless Taylor in the security office to stare at monitors together but he also didn't want to leave Ana. He needed to hold on to her and be there when she had nightmares. He even considered putting a bed in the security office or moving all the equipment into the bedroom but Ana nixed that notion.

They made love for hours, much of it of the desperate kind for Christian. He needed to bury himself inside her as if that would ensure that she was safe, that they were together. He wanted to watch her come, over and over. It soothed him. And Ana tried herself to drive her man to distraction, to make him forget for a while. She kidded him that once the killers were behind bars, Christian would relax and maybe they'd get separate bedrooms. He'd groaned at the ridiculousness of that idea and then she'd start a faux argument about who would get the master bedroom. He'd tell her that he was there first and she'd say that a gentleman would yield to his lady. Then Christian would mock growl, throw her legs around his waist and order her to yield to him. She'd say no and he'd use all his sexpertise to get her to beg him to take her. She'd try to resist, he'd tease her g-spot and her nipples until she screamed for him. For a while, he'd be lost in her but in the end, loving her would only remind him that he could lose her…again.

Ana would be worn out and would fall asleep, wrapped tightly in his arms, while Christian would think back on the months she was missing and the grief and depression that consumed him then. Even living through her surgery and coma and recovery was better than not having her with him at all. No, whoever they were, they would not take her away from him. He simply could not be without her again. He knew he wouldn't survive it and wouldn't want to anyway.

Keeping Ana was all that mattered.

It would be tricky. Taylor was doubtful that it was doable. Still, it was the only idea, out of all the unworkable ideas that they'd come up with, that had a chance. They had to leave the building, convincingly. Yet they had to stay in the penthouse. So, it was simple. They would have to be in two places at once. The bad guys wouldn't believe Christian was being driven away by Taylor if they left via the garage. The tinted windows could easily be hiding imposters. No, Taylor would have to drive the car around to the front, get out and open the door for Christian. It had to be convincing.

They gathered all the men together in the living room and chose the two who could possibly be them with the magic of disguises.

One poor fellow lost his thick locks to a buzz cut along with a dye job to match Taylor's reddish hair. They put him in one of Taylor's suits and then used padding to fill in the missing muscle. The makeup artist then went to work adapting his face to resemble Taylor's. The man chosen to imitate Christian needed a dye job as well but the suit fit a bit better. The weather report promised a rainy morning, meaning that both men could be wearing their collars up.

Fake Taylor would pull the car around to the front and wait for a while. They didn't want the intruders to wonder why Christian didn't get into the car in the garage. They had to make it look as though Christian was just lagging behind. Then Ana came up with the idea to kiss fake Christian goodbye in the lobby, clearly visible through the glass walls and doors. It was a good idea and real Christian hated it. Taylor had to convince him by telling him that fake Christian would have his back to the street so it would only appear that Ana was kissing him. Real Christian was still not happy. He thought it only fair that Gail bid goodbye to fake Taylor in a similar fashion. He reasoned that it would look like the fakes were leaving for an extended period of time which would afford the bad guys more time. Brilliant, said Gail, if they think they have several days to choose from, they're more likely to use that time. She ignored the dirty look from Taylor.

With an umbrella obscuring his face and then fake Christian's face, they could get into the car without allowing the killers to look too closely.

"Oh, god," sighed Christian, "this is such a sorry idea. It's never gonna work." He really hated it when Ana insisted on rehearsal. When she encircled her arms around fake Christian, real Christian's face turned an unbecoming shade of red and he put his arms out to put space between the two bodies. "Just lean in," he demanded. "You don't have to be up against each other. Can't tell from the back." "Yeah," said Taylor to Gail and his double, "what he said." Ana and Gail just snickered. They knew that when all this faking was taking place, Christian and Jason would be glued to the monitors upstairs, faces purple with jealous and ridiculous rage.

Ana threw her arms around Christian and batted her lashes at him. Then she pointed to her lips. He tried to ignore her but he had to give in. Any opportunity to kiss Ana….she placed her lips softly on his, letting her tongue slip gently over his lips and into his mouth, breathing out a whisper, "Who loves ya, baby?" Christian groaned and deepened the kiss as he picked up his girl and carried her toward their bedroom.

"Well," quipped Taylor, "I think rehearsal is over for now. We won't see those two again until dinner. Gail, I think you get the idea, right? Space between you and lean in."

"Honey, you are at least a foot taller than me. If I put a foot between us and lean in, I'll be kissing fake you goodbye on your belly button," laughed Gail. Fake Taylor laughed too and, after a look from Jason, immediately clammed up and decided that he was necessary elsewhere.

"Ah, wait a minute you two," commanded Jason. "Don't forget that you're parking the SUV in the GEH garage, just in case you're followed. Then you get out of your disquises, put on the maintenance suits we'll have in the trunk and drive the fake service van back here. We'll need you up here if this crazy plan pans out."

"Gail," Taylor coughed, "I need to, um, speak with your privates, I mean, in private, please."

He grabbed her hand and fairly dragged her back to his lair, Gail giggling all the way.

Suddenly fake Taylor really missed his girlfriend. Those bad guys had better break in to kill Ms. Steele pretty darn soon, he thought.

As promised by Holly the weather girl on station KOMO, the day dawned gray and raining. Maybe no one else in Seattle was happy about that but it suited a couple of killers just fine.

Yeti and Sasquatch looked out the window of their motel room and then grinned at each other. They had figured on having to break in at night but a day like today was even better. It was Monday, a workday. With the mistress out of the way, Christian Grey probably figured that his problems were over and he'd be off to work. There was no sign that his building's security had noticed the few extra bits of code that would allow the men to slip in through the service entrance dressed as maintenance men. Yeti and Sasquatch were in agreement on most of their plan except for Yeti's desire to have a little fun with Ms. Steele before drugging her and dragging her back down the stairs to their van. Sasquatch figured that once they were safely away there would be plenty of time to play. He was more cautious than Yeti. He also wanted time to cut the throats of the housekeeper and the guard. Wasting time raping Ana Steele just put them more in danger of being caught. Oh, well, he supposed that Yeti could do the girl while he had his fun slitting jugulars. He really liked that but Yeti always wanted to toss in a little mayhem. He sure had fun with Mrs. Lincoln.

They wanted to hit the road early and be parked across the street from Escala by 7 am. to make sure that Grey and his CPO really left the building and left Ana vulnerable. As they sat in the van, watching Escala through darkened windows, they were almost giddy at the thought of their plan coming together. By this time tomorrow they'd have Steele and the promise of a 5 million dollar ransom by evening. Of course, Grey wouldn't be getting his money's worth but Sasquatch would get to enjoy slitting another throat.

Suddenly the garage door of Escala opened and Grey's fancy SUV pulled out and up to the curb. It sat there for a while and then the driver, seeming impatient, got out and ducked quickly under the overhang and into the lobby. Yeti and Sasquatch watched through the glass as Grey and his girl emerged from the elevator and stood kissing goodbye. The bodyguard was also getting some from a blonde half his size. Huh, thought the two killers, big goodbye for an ordinary workday. Then they noticed the luggage and turned to grin happily at each other. Grey and the big guy were not just leaving for the day; they were going out of town. Sasquatch slapped his buddy on the back. Now Yeti could take all the time he wanted with Steele and maybe Sasquatch could play a little bit with the blonde. They had to laugh at how cooperative Grey was being.

With the housekeeper and the pretty little Ms. Steele waving goodbye, Grey and the driver made for the car under an umbrella and drove off down the street and out of sight. The two women returned to the elevator and rode up to their doom. Yeti and Sasquatch began singing "Happy days are here again". Mrs. Lincoln had loved that song. While they were hoisting her up on that contraption in the classroom, they made her sing it for them. Her voice wasn't bad but it was strained somewhat after an hour of "lessons". After another hour, she couldn't sing or even scream anymore. That was too bad. Yeti had tried to apply all he'd learned from her in her classroom in order to have more time to spend with her but she wasn't a young, sturdy boy of 14 and, therefore, didn't have his stamina. She was only able to stay alert for 3 hours and he had promised his buddy that he could very slowly slash her windpipe and then her neck until it was dangling by a thread…of skin, that is.

After waiting and watching for an hour to be sure that the coast was clear and observing nothing but a couple of maintenance men arriving, the two left the van, carrying a pile of drop cloths with which they would cover Ms. Steele as they returned to the van later. She was small enough that it would look like the same pile of drop cloths when they left with her.

And on the 20th floor, a dozen armed guards positioned themselves around the penthouse while Ana and Gail sat in the panic room watching the action nervously on several screens as Grey and Taylor watched the same action on the monitors in the security office.

Everyone, killers and victims-to-be were thinking the same thing.

SHOWTIME!

Taylor, observing the perps, alerted his men through their earpieces.

"We have 2 men, possibly maintenance workers, accessing the building through the service entrance on the north side. Could be legit, however. Hold your current positions and stand by," he said tersely.

"Remember, Mr. Grey. You promised me that when we have a confirmed sighting, you'll go to the panic room. I don't care how many miles you run or how many rounds you can go with Claude Bastille, you are not trained for this. It is my job to protect you. We are not a team, understood?"

"Geez, Taylor." whined Christian. "We have a small army of CPOs up here. I think that I'm safe."

"It is not your safety in particular that I'm concerned about. It's mine. If you so much as scrap a knee, your girlfriend will have my nuts in a vise for not insisting that you hide out in the panic room. And if the bad guys get into the apartment and you're not in the panic room with Ana and Gail, where do suppose that Ana is going to be next, huh?"

"Out in the open heading for the security office….yeah, you're right, Taylor. Sorry."

"Huh, interesting…those two maintenance guys took the service elevator to just the 15th floor and now they're walking up the stairs. That's odd. Unless they don't want to alert anyone on the 20th floor to their presence . Maybe they're afraid they'll be heard if they get off on the 19th floor.

Now, Christian. Go to the panic room now. No argument or I'll tell Ana on you," Taylor smiled. "Speaking of, she's blowing up my earpiece asking for you."

"It's okay, Ana. He's on his way," Taylor reassured her.

Christian headed out to the panic room just as he heard Taylor advising his men that they were to close ranks around the north service entrance and move on his order. As Christian entered the room, behind him he heard gunfire and in front of him a tearful Ana sobbing.

"Where were you? Why weren't you here? They were so close and there are guns being fired," Ana was crying and terrified, all because he had to be macho man. He enveloped her in his arms, attempting to calm her. She was shaking so badly that it was almost as if she were having a nightmare. He felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me, okay. I'm sorry."

"Gail," he asked, "are you okay?" She was standing with her back to him with her eyes glued to the monitors, watching and listening for signs of her husband. Ana quickly left Christian's arms and wrapped her own around Gail, telling her that everything was alright. Gail was trembling. "I don't see him, Ana. I don't hear him. I heard the shots."

"It's okay, Gail," Christian consoled her. "The shots were fired while Jason was still in the office. He's probably…." before Christian could finish his sentence, he heard Taylor's voice. It was loud and unintelligible. Then there was more gunfire. Christian moved to the monitors and adjusted the camera angles. Where the hell was Taylor and where were the shots coming from?

Then he caught a glimpse of a man in a maintenance uniform. It wasn't one of his men, he knew. He whirled around, realizing that he had not shut the panic room door. Before he could slam it shut, it flew wide open. There stood the man he'd glimpsed a moment before.

He was bloody and angry and armed with a large blade. He looked wildly around the room as he stood just on the other side of the threshold. His crazed eyes landed on Ana just as Christian stepped in front of her and Gail. He was panting and sweating, a great beast of a man, well named Sasquatch by Elena.

"You killed my friend so I killed yours," he yelled.

Gail gasped and fell to the floor in a heap, hysterically sobbing. Ana knelt and held Gail in her arms. As the hulk of a man came closer, Christian waited for his moment and then crouched on one leg and balancing on one hand, swung his leg out, knocking the Sasquatch off his feet. As the big man tried to get up, Christian brought his fist up under his chin. Sasquatch crashed backwards to the floor, momentarily stunned but still able to get onto his hands and knees. Christian coupled his hands together into one fist and slammed into the back of the giant's neck at the same time as he brought his knee up into his throat. Just then Taylor came sliding across the doorway, blood trickling down his cheek. He stopped when he saw the man on the floor, unmoving. Gail jumped to her feet and ran to her husband.

"It's okay, Gail," he said crushing her to him, "it's just a scratch. The other guy is dead. Everyone else is okay."

He bent over to check Sasquatch's pulse. "He's alive. Nice job, Mr. Grey. Next time close the damn door behind you, for Christ's sake. A panic room with an open door is just a room," he growled at Christian. "Why'd we build the damn thing if you're not going to use it properly."

Christian, still breathing hard, pulled Ana to him and smiled at Taylor. "I'm sure that you're being insubordinate, Jason, and you're bleeding all over my floor."

"Fuck off, boss," snarled Taylor

Taylor's "scratch" was caused by a bullet grazing his skull but Christian figured that he was going to have a more painful, scrotal injury to deal with if Gail caught him up and moving around again. Ana was still angry with Christian for lingering in the security office a little too long. So, being big heroes for their women got the both of them exactly bupkis. For the last two nights Ana had horrific nightmares about Sasquatch slashing Christian with the knife. Turned out that their women preferred them alive, well and cowering in the panic room.

Sasquatch recovered and would not stop talking to the police. He really enjoyed slicing and dicing Mrs. Lincoln and wanted to share every detail. Officers had to take turns interviewing him because he was turning their stomachs. He did stop now and then to bawl for a while because he missed his bestie..

A few days after the big home invasion, Ana and Gail were able to enjoy an excursion to the grocery store with only Sawyer. They giggled that it was like Christmas and no one was trying to kidnap or kill any of them for a change. Of course, Grey and Taylor were still nervous, justified or not. It was an adjustment, esp. for Christian. He insisted that Ana call him every 15 minutes and when she didn't, he called her. He was overprotective and he wasn't sure if he would ever relax. After all, she was everything in the world to him and that wasn't ever going to change.

Grace called frequently and kept insisting that Grey and Ana come to lunch. He'd been making excuses but now he had none.

The only thing holding him back was his own fear. He'd lived with it for so long that he was having trouble accepting that Ana was safe now…safe from tumors and Elena and her henchmen and even the truth of what he'd done to have her.

Ana still had her usual nightmares and he hated Carla for that yet because of Ana's good heart he was financially supporting her. After every thing she'd done, Carla still had the gall to call, begging Grey to let her talk to Ana. She'd call at dinner time knowing that Ana would make Christian give Ana the phone. She'd try to guilt Ana into coming for visits and Ana was weakening in her resolve to avoid that particular poison. Carla had even hinted that she wanted to come to Seattle, perhaps she and Ana could live together! After she'd left Ana in tears, Christian had his lawyers call her to inform her that further attempts to contact Ana would result in support being withdrawn. It was no surprise that money meant more to Carla than being with Ana.

Elliot complained that his brother was never available for hikes and beers and ball games while Mia whined that having a girlfriend didn't mean that he no longer had a little sister. While Ana was so ill, Christian rarely saw them except for Grace. And then with the threats from Elena, he'd been afraid to have Ana leave the confines of his fortress in the sky. Now he could breathe again but he wondered if he'd forgotten how. As in all things human, he leaned on Ana to show him the way.

Grace, Ana pointed out, was going through a terrible time dealing with Elena's horrific murder and the revelations that she was not the woman that Grace had considered her friend for decades. He'd had to explain to his mother that Elena was jealous of Ana but Grace didn't understand why or how it came to be so all consuming that Elena would resort to murder. When she learned about Elena's particularly heinous demise at the hands of those fiends and that she'd intended that sort of death for Ana, she broke down. She doubted her own judgement that she could have been so blind for so long to the kind of person Elena really was. Although Ana was urging him to share his own story, to no longer allow Elena to separate him from his family, he knew he couldn't do it. Seeing his mother's current grief, he knew he couldn't do it. She'd blame herself…that was certain. He feared that she might never recover.

He did what he could to mitigate the damage. He sent his family to Aspen for a week to relax and when they returned, he sent Ros and Gwen for a couple of weeks. Next he planned to send Taylor and Gail. The exhaustion, the strain of worry for months and months through Ana's disappearance, her illness, his being shot and that horrible last day at Escala showed on both of them.

Taylor joked that it was ironic that after years of those subs coming and going, he thought that there was light at the end of the tunnel when Ana came to stay. Instead, it was only the beginning of a year of hell. He admitted, however, that none of it was Ana's doing and that he come to feel a real affection for her.

So, Sunday Christian put his fears aside and left Taylor and Gail to pack for Aspen while he drove Ana to his parent's in the R8. No security detail. Just lunch with his family. Although he still had trouble taking his eyes off Ana and he needed to at least hold her hand, lunch went well. Yes, his family, his mother especially, wanted to talk about Elena and recent events but Ana was patient and calm. She frequently squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek and that helped him to be calm as well. Seeing the pain in his mother's eyes hurt him terribly, however. She'd lost a dear friend, in more ways than one. Ana gently suggested that Grace get some therapy. She told Grace that John Flynn had been a great help to her and Grace promised to call him for an appointment. Apparently, she hadn't been sleeping and Carrick could not persuade her to seek treatment.

As they left, Ana assured them that there would be regular lunches from now on and even offered to host a family night at the Mile High Club. Also, she wanted them to meet Mac and Margaret who were now a couple. Perhaps they could all go to Mac's for lunch. Elliot cheered that idea.

Normalcy. Maybe from now on, Christian thought, there could be normalcy.

All he wanted was a quiet life with Ana, always and ever, Ana.

He had the ring in his pocket, next to his heart.

The Beginning.

Perhaps I'll write a Part 2 if I come up with an idea.

Thanks for reading. :)