This was just a little idea I had in my head of the Captain and Maria sharing the same problem of not being able to sleep, something that could easily have happened to them between the events of the boat scene and the lonely goatherd.

Something In Common

She wandered down the stairs, her eyes blinking heavily but her mind still set on what she was doing. It was a sleepless night, it seemed, and even though the events of that day had been incredibly tiring, her brain had kept her up for most of the night with irrepressible thoughts. She wished she could go back to bed but she wasn't going to give up her quest of trying to make her brain settle. Maria thought she'd start with getting some water, and with much longheld debate, finally drew enough courage to go downstairs to get some. It was silly, she knew but she was in only her nightgown and was roaming the house at night. Maria pondered how the Captain would react if he saw her; it didn't bode well. It seemed like everything she had done so far had been the complete opposite of what the Captain wanted, but it hadn't been enough to make her stop. The children deserved to play and sing and laugh, not march around the house like they were soldiers. And finally, she had managed to sway the Captain's head once he had come home from Vienna. Maria didn't think that in all her life she could forget the way he had stared up at her, conveying both forgiveness and gratefulness at the same time whilst asking her to stay. Maria wondered whether that memory was the reason she couldn't sleep. Disrupting her reverie, she entered one of the many rooms that were not locked by the butler at night. The kitchen was rarely open at this time, so she had bravely hoped there would be a carafe of water in other living spaces. Sure enough, she spied a glass jug glistening at her invitingly and half-full of water. Carefully tip-toeing into the room she only then noticed that the lights were already on, and that a figure standing beside the table turned to look at her. Maria felt her heart plummet as she stared into the eyes of the Captain. Her lips trying to articulate words only gave the impression of a fish opening and closing its mouth. For a moment longer he stared down at her, not exactly accusing like she'd thought, but softer, perhaps merely surprised. She straightened herself up against the doorframe, suddenly realising that she was in her nightgown once again in front of the Captain. The first time had been a shock, this time it was only stark embarrassment. She wished it would stop happening. She had never felt so exposed in front of someone before.

'Evening, fraulein.' He said in his smooth, deep voice. He turned away to pour himself another glass of water. Maria foolishly made no attempt to either reply or move to his side for the jug. He had the same dressing gown on she had seen him in the first time, and his hair was shockingly untidy and ruffled from his pillow. He must brush it every single morning, with close and accurate precision, for here it looked almost wavy. Maria could hardly speak as she looked upon him when he turned round to face her once more, leaning up against the table.

'Forgive me, Captain,' she said breathlessly, 'I didn't know you would be awake.'

He smirked coolly, bringing the glass to his lips, 'it's an easy mistake, fraulein.'

She choked on her reply, instead just nodding in agreement and joining him to pour her own glass.

'What brings you here on this irritatingly restless night?'

Maria was partly shocked that the Captain admitted anything with any such emotion but he had begun to surprise her of late.

'Well, I couldn't sleep and I thought I'd just get some water. I-I'm sorry I disturbed you.'

He smiled at her understandingly, and Maria could feel what felt like small bugs crawling around in her stomach. The sensation pulled at her gut and she found she couldn't look in his eyes.

He moved away from her and with a shocking laziness, slumped down in a chair facing her. Holding his water to his lips, he agreed, 'the same. I can't go to sleep at all.' He sounded frustrated, annoyed. Maria stood there looking at him with incredulity at his lax form, legs stretched out to their fullest, upper torso slumped and laid back. She had never seen him look so...normal. All this time she had regarded him as a direct and pristine sea captain, neat and orderly. Maria stood before him awkwardly, quickly averting her eyes when she realised she had been staring so intensely at him.

'You can sit down,' he said, observing her standing there like she was waiting for the commands of her captain; as if she daren't move without permission.

Maria felt asinine as she moved to sit down on the chair opposite, whilst continually surprised the captain had implied she stay. She sat down cautiously, facing him, and again felt the situation a bizarre one. It crossed her mind that she should have excused herself, but actually sitting there with the captain at an ungodly hour of the night seemed almost acceptable and peaceful. Maria felt for the first time she was seeing through the bold facade of Captain von Trapp; he looked sad, almost angry, and it was concern that made her unexpectedly speak up.

'What is it that's bothering you?' She asked, hoping it wasn't too much of a personal question. The captain's eyes swivelled to hers in bewilderment at how she knew something was wrong. He sighed, a deflated one, full of unresolved problems. He looked for a moment I as if he weren't going to say anything to his governess, but conceded.

'The Nazis...they're threatening this country. And I don't know how long Austria has left to fight back.'

Maria felt slightly out of her depth, unsure of how she could possibly impart any of her kind wisdom on such a dilemma.

'Oh, I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. But I didn't have much understanding of what was going on in the outside world when I was at the Abbey.'

Captain von Trapp erected himself a little straighter, as if he were interested in her life as a postulant.

'What is it like to live in the Abbey, fraulein?'

She smiled a little at him. Maria hadn't thought the captain would have any such interest in her life as a postulant.

'Well, it's my home, my whole world. I sometimes used to go out on my own up to the hills...I guess that's why I got into so much trouble.'

He looked slightly amused at that. Maria was still wondering how this conversation was happening.

'Were you in trouble a lot?'

'Well, I had disagreements with the sisters...I often forgot to do something important or do things I shouldn't.'

'Disagreements?' The captain echoed, raising his eyebrow and curling his lip into a smirk. Maria instantly knew he was thinking about the argument they'd had earlier about the children and the play-clothes.

She smiled. 'I told you, I'm far too outspoken for my own good.'

'Indeed.' He answered coolly.

A small pause settled between them, but Maria didn't find it uncomfortable or as startlingly tense as it normally would; it was the kind of pause two friends would share after having a satisfactory conversation.

'And these problems...' She began again, 'they're affecting you, aren't they?' The change back to the dangerous subject transformed the mood in the room once again to a despairing one.

'I don't know...' He said, staring down miserably at his empty glass, 'what to do about all of this. The children are my biggest worry; keeping them out of harm and danger is the most important thing. And I don't know how I will do it yet.'

Maria could hardly answer with a suitable reply; she felt as much as the captain did that the children needed to be protected, even if she really didn't know that much about what was happening.

She looked at the decorated and celebrated Captain and now saw only the man, struggling just as much as anyone else was. It was strange too, even though she knew he was rich, she had never dwelt on it, or thought of it as apart of him. She had noticed that most people saw the wealthy captain and didn't see the person underneath. But actually, Maria realised, the nationalistic man and the rich captain were two very independent entities.

'It will not be easy,' he said, shaking his head slowly, eyes focused on something beyond the real world, in a trance.

She felt sympathy for him perhaps for the first time. His eyes suddenly gazed at hers, and she could feel the weight of them pressing down on her.

'Well, I think it's time to retire back to bed.' He said abruptly, springing up from his seat. Maria blinked a few times at the suddenness of his outburst and rose to stand too.

'Yes, Captain, I think it is.'

He nodded, still studying her eyes as if he found something intriguing in them. It almost unnerved her.

'I...I feel I must apologise again. It's something that's also been playing on my mind. I shouldn't have treated you that way. You seemed to be right all along about me.'

Maria inhaled a breath, a little overwhelmed by his apology, but settled on a pleased and consoling smile.

'You've already apologised, Captain. Thank you for letting me stay.'

He nodded once more, his eyes lowering themselves from hers and then attaching themselves back inexorably. She couldn't help but be a little shocked at how often he stared at her.

'Goodnight, Maria.' He parted, turning away swiftly and walking out through the door.

'Goodnight, Captain.' She called after him, her face scrunching up a bit at his oddly tender behaviour. It had almost unsettled her at how calm he had been with her around him. She was sure that they would keep on rubbing off on each other, inflicting annoyance at the others' expense. But ever since that afternoon, something had changed in him, and in her. She couldn't describe what it was, but it plagued her head like a tornado swirling round, adding to the everlasting stream of thoughts.

It clicked in her head, just then, that the Captain had said his farewells using her name. Only her name. She replayed the sound of his voice over and over again, 'goodnight, Maria.' Not 'fraulein' or even 'fraulein Maria', or any other possible formal address. He had said her name as if she were more than just a mere acquaintance now, but a friend. The thought of being friends with the captain addled and bewildered her. She was pretty sure she hadn't heard him address her in an informal way before, and in awestruck confusion her hands rose to her head like she was trying to solve a math problem. Everything about the captain mystified her profusely, to the point where she didn't know what to think of him. Throwing her hands down beside her, and still in the doorway of the room, she watched the image of the captain turn away and leave in front of her eyes for more than a minute.