Chapter 1: man to man, friend to friend

Ever since she had put him in his place, stood before him dripping wet as her dress clung to the contours of her body, Georg's perception of Maria had changed. She was not the timid, irresponsible little girl he had assumed her to be, but a headstrong, outspoken young woman who had opened his eyes to his failings as a father. A harsh truth ignored by so many around him, but brought brutally into his line of vision by this slip of a governess that now so often appeared in his thoughts.

The weeks that followed after their mutual understanding that day had been filled with laughter, music and a general sense of peace that felt as if it had spread through his soul like sunshine. Maria had been entirely right, he had not known his children, and reconnecting with them with her to guide him had been a blessing in more ways than one.

And now, as she stood before him in a room full of observers while he sang edelweiss, he realised he felt utterly alone with her, as if their surroundings were melting away from under them. He locked eyes with Maria, as she radiated beauty in her captivating blue dress, and found he couldn't tear his gaze away as the final lyrics of his melody came to an end. There was no denying it anymore, he needed her.

"Just say the word Georg and you can be part of my new act," Max's interjection forced Georg back into the room, "the von trapp family singers".

Still deep in thought as he pondered the heavy ache in his chest, Georg let the comment slide as a general titter of amusement spread through the room. He laughed along but he was evidently distracted. Maria had looked so innocent when watching his performance and he felt a pang of shame as his eyes had wondered to her dress and his imagination had conjured up previously memorised images of her dripping form by the lake. The image had appeared a few times in his dreams only to cause him to wake with a particularly stubborn part of his body standing to attention. He had only once given in to the need to relieve his frustration, when the dream had taken a particularly vivid turn in which fraulein Maria had entwined her naked form with his in the throes of passion - and he had been plagued with shame ever since at his lack of self discipline.

And now his breath caught as he again remembered the slight curve of her breast in the same way it curved now under the blue material, the swell of her hip that was now also accentuated, the slight peak of her nipples as the cold had had its effect. God forgive me, he thought as he quickly suppressed the intense physical and emotional need for her rising within him.

Elsa was saying something about hosting a party and he quickly humoured her in one way or another with an open ended reply as an eruption of excitement spread through the room. He was grateful to Maria for announcing the children's bedtime - it was a welcome distraction and one that he knew would temporarily save him from revealing too much in his body language and overly quiet demeanour. He watched as she gathered them together to say good night; a perfect combination of subtle discipline and complete adoration for her charges emanated from her, and his heart swelled.

After bidding each of his children good night his smouldering gaze met Maria's eyes once more as she stood in the doorway, "good night fraulein," he murmured, hoping that he hadn't imagined the slight colouring of her cheeks as he gazed upon her from his position on the sofa.

"Goodnight captain," Maria held his gaze for only a few seconds before bidding both Max and Elsa the same, turning on her heels and leaving the three aristocrats alone. Georg's eyes lingered on the doorway for a few moments before he fixed his gaze intensely on his glass of scotch - when had his minor attraction to the governess developed into an intense need to hold her, caress her, seek out her company whenever he could? She had fascinated him in their rare moments alone together since their argument, discussing the children, the mountains, authors, musicians, their love of country and even their views on politics. He found that time flew by in her company, or it stood still - he couldn't decide. All he knew was that it had to stop. He was committed to Elsa and Maria was committed to God.

"Darling?" Elsa penetrated his thoughts.

"Mmm?"

"Max was just explaining how delightful he found the puppet show," Elsa trilled, her face a perfectly rehearsed epitome of feminine sophistication.

"Yes Georg, they're truly magnificent, what they'll do at the festival," Max interjected, "and fraulein Maria, a remarkable young woman if she can sway the likes of the stubborn captain von Trapp," he mused as Georg felt his body tense. He forced a grimaced smile and got up to refill his glass.

"Yes it almost seems a shame that such a fine young girl would dedicate herself to a life of poverty and submission," Elsa declared watching Georg intensely, "don't you think so my darling?"

She knew, Georg realised. She knew what she'd seen during his performance and she was testing him. He concentrated on pouring his scotch, filling his glass with slightly more liquid than he otherwise would have and allowing the nectar to burn at his throat.

"Quite, quite," Max chimed in, unknowingly saving Georg from having to make a forced reply, "such a young, vibrant attractive little thing and yet she'll be confined to those abbey walls before long." He sighed into his glass, "pity, I'm sure she'd have many young admirers within society and would find a very nice life for herself."

Georg's eyes had unintentionally jerked in Max's direction upon hearing this statement and he realised that the small change in his body language hadn't been lost on his oldest friend. Max eyed him over the top of his glass with a knowing look, one that spoke volumes, and Georg felt like an errant school boy caught in the act.

"Mmm," He replied again, for fear that attempting to form a constructed sentence would reveal too much of his inner struggle. He moved to the window, gently swilling the contents of his glass.

Frustrated at his guarded demeanour and her inability to decipher his behaviour, Elsa admitted defeat, at least for this evening. She would see if Georg was any more receptive tomorrow and knew better than to pester him when he was as foreboding as he was currently being. Sighing gracefully, she got to her feet and clapped her hands together, "well, I think it's high time I retired to my room and got some much needed beauty sleep," she trilled, as Max kissed her hand goodnight. "Georg my darling, I shall see you in the morning and we can discuss our plans for the party," she sashayed across the room to his side, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek and he bade her goodnight with a smile and a pat of her hand.

As she left the room, Georg let out the breath he'd unknowingly been holding and begrudgingly made his way back to the spot on the sofa where he'd sang, settling against the cushions and sipping at his drink, allowing the tension to leave his body.

Max cleared his throat and fixed Georg with a stare that could otherwise have been considered stern if it wasn't for his playful character.

"What?" Georg barked impatiently, he was in no mood to be tested.

"You know bloody well what Georg," max retorted, his eyebrows knitting together, "I haven't seen you this lovesick since your early days persuing Agathe."

The hairs on the back of Georg's neck stood on end and he couldn't decipher whether it was due to the mention of Agathe's name or the insinuation of Max's comment. Still, he remained calm and did his best to feign ignorance.

"Yes, well Elsa is quite an enchanting woman, I'd hardly be a man if I wasn't charmed," he replied, "wouldn't you agree?"

Max scoffed and leaned forward in his chair, "come now Georg, we are both men after all. Do not try to fool your oldest and most mischievous friend," he smirked.

"And just what is it you're trying to insinuate Max?" Georg snipped, his patience waning.

"Fraulein Maria." Max stated matter of factly, and Georg froze.

"I've been watching you with her Georg and your infatuation with her has been developing for some time now. At first I thought it was a mutual respect, a mere friendship, then perhaps just an innocent attraction.. After all, she is young and virginal, and it's natural for that to resinate with us men.. it's not as if I haven't noticed her myself from time to time..."

Georg jumped to his feet, "you will stop right there Max. She is under my protection, how dare you speak of her or look at her that way!"

"The way you look at her, you mean?" Max interjected, fixing him with another knowing stare. Georg felt the heat rise in his cheeks and he clenched his fists.

"That's different," He blurted out in defence, feeling himself becoming flustered.

"And why is that?" Max asked coolly, "because you know she looks at you the same way?"

Georg met his eyes for the first time during their heated exchange and slowly sank back into his seat. He knocked back the remainder of his drink and swept a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Max.. I..," Georg was visibly distressed.

"Georg please," max held up his hand "you needn't stand on ceremony for me, you're my dearest friend after all and I will never forget the grief you suffered. we all watched helplessly as you retreated further and further into your loss," it was rare that Max Detweiler was ever so sentimental, "and I've also watched over the last few weeks as the man we all once knew has returned to us."

Georg met his gaze again reluctantly. His friend clearly knew him better than he knew himself at times.

"You suffered such misery Georg. I would hate to watch you suffer all over again."

Taking a deep breath, Georg stood and began pacing slowly, attempting to make sense of his thoughts.

"I don't know where to start Max," he flinched, feeling a little relief at the opportunity to unload some of his burden.

"Let's start at the very beginning," Max quipped.

Georg smiled despite himself, and turned to face his friend, "well, I suppose in the beginning I was riled by her blatant disregard for any kind of discipline," he began, resuming his pacing, "she got under my skin and it played on my thoughts. I realise now she went against my wishes in the children's best interests. She's the first person to have stood up to me in a very long time and it intrigued me further."

Max nodded, "she got through to you when no one else could."

"Since then there have been times, moments we've shared, where I've gotten to know her, and I've let her get to know me.. and I find myself seeking her company often," Georg pondered, walking over to the window for the second time that night, "she's quite remarkable really. Did you know she can speak French and English? And read Latin? And that she likes to write as well as read. And it's not just the guitar that she can play," he appeared to be talking to no one in particular at this point, almost as though his thoughts were finally spilling from him and it was difficult to stop it as the relief of his confessions washed over him.

Max listened as his suspicions were confirmed. This was more than a physical attraction, more than a simple case of lust. As his friend gushed about the little things he found most enchanting about Maria, the smaller details of their shared thoughts and rare moments together, it became glaringly obvious to Max. Georg was in love with her.

"She sees the good in everything and everyone," Georg continued, "she brought me back to my children, and I wasn't ready for the impact she's made on our lives."

Max nodded in agreement, "you weren't expecting to fall in love again."

Georg was torn from his reverie and spun away from the window to face his friend with a look of alarm, "what did you say?"

Max took another sip of his scotch calmly. It appeared that, despite his inner turmoil, Georg hadn't yet grasped the extent of his feelings.

"You are in love with the girl Georg, surely you must see that."

"I.. It's.. It's not that simple!" Georg retorted as he resumed pacing again, his face reddening as his expression contorted, "It's just an attraction.. And I'm just displacing my love for Agathe onto the person who has come closest to being a mother for the children since her death," he spluttered, "I'm just... I'm just grateful to her for all she's done for us, it's nothing more than gratitude and admiration for the effect she's had on all of us."

Max studied his glass thoughtfully while Georg's heart raced. He couldn't be in love with her, could he? Cared for her, respected her, admired her, lusted after her, yes.. But love?

"Georg," Max interjected, "it's actually quite simple, despite your unfathomable desire to deny yourself any chance at true happiness. Do you respect her? Admire her?"

Georg stared at his friend and nodded slowly.

"And you say you find yourself seeking her company more often than not."

Georg nodded again.

"And her opinions, her thoughts on your lifestyle, your children, your ambitions, these matter to you?"

Another reluctant nod.

"In that case Georg, there is only one thing left to ask and do forgive me for asking," max added cautiously, "but, man to man, friend to friend.. do you desire her?" Max of course already knew the answer, but he wanted his friend to admit it to himself, to admit what he so desperately tried to suppress.

Georg couldn't mask his sharp intake of breath as the image of the Maria from his dreams, naked and writhing before him, came to the forefront of his mind. He closed his eyes in a pained expression, attempting to rid himself of the arousal that threatened to course through him. He said nothing.

"Georg, be honest with yourself. You owe yourself that much. Do you desire her, pine for her, long to take her to your.."

"Yes!" Georg spat, Max's words having had their intended effect, "yes max, are you happy?" He seethed, hating himself for his sordid confession. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Georg," Max sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "why do you insist on punishing yourself for feeling things you thought you could no longer feel? You know as well as I do that these feelings are real and pure and natural, your confessions tonight have been proof enough of that."

"But.. What about Elsa? And what of Maria's commitment to her faith? She's a postulant for goodness sake, my longing for her has been nothing but deplorable..to tarnish her in that way.."

"Take all the surrounding circumstances away Georg and you are just a man who is in love with a woman. And I'm sad to say I don't know too much about the fairer sex, but I know what I saw in her eyes when you sang, and it mirrored what I've seen in your eyes these last few weeks. The question is what do you intend to do about it?" Max took a long sip of his scotch and stretched comfortably, as if his declaration was of no more consequence than what he'd had for breakfast.

Georg thought long and hard about Max's observation - he'd been so consumed by his own denial he had refused to acknowledge what he himself had seen in Maria's eyes - longing.

His friend sighed and got up from his seat, a silent indication of his intention to retire for the night. He clapped Georg on the back, "being in love is no sin Georg. I understand the complexity of the situation and I admit Elsa is a dear friend of mine, but you are like a brother to me and after everything you've been through, to deny what you truly want, what you truly need... That would be the real sin."

And with his powerful words ringing in Georg's ears, Max left his friend to ponder on how the often frivolous and immature Heir Detweiler had become so wise.