**DISCLAIMER** I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 6

Helga rushed out of the Chateau and hurried across the town square. A million thoughts were rushing through her mind, jumbling up into each other and giving her a headache so bad that she could barely think. Her heart pounded – the rest of the day had been torturous; watching and waiting impatiently as the second hand on the face of her clock ticked past at snail's pace, wondering and worrying if Gruber was all right. 6:30pm had not come quick enough.

He had to be alright. He just had to be.

After what seemed like a millennia, Helga finally reached the entrance to the café Rene. She slammed open the doors, earning a few odd looks from the other customers who were seated inside; but she was far too preoccupied to notice. She skimmed the room for Lieutenant Gruber, and her heart sank when she realised that he had not yet arrived. Deflated, Helga sank into the chair by the window and gazed out of the window, trying hard to steady her breathing; her brow furrowed with concern.

The time passed by, and outside the sky was getting darker and darker. Helga checked her watch; 7:45pm, and still no sign of Gruber. She tried hard not to panic – he said he would be here. Or, at the very least, the young soldier said that he said he would be here. Helga groaned and rested her head in her hands. WHY wasn't he here?

All of a sudden, Helga could feel that someone was watching her. Uncomfortable, she looked up, and found herself face to face with Rene; who looked both terrified and regretful that he had made the decision to approach her in the first place.

"A-hem…" Rene coughed. "I was just wondering, Madame, if you were feeling okay? You have been here a very long while, and you seem to be fixated on that post box across the square…" Rene gestured out through the window.

"I am quite alright," Helga snapped. "If you must know, I am waiting on my company for the evening!"

Rene nodded in understanding. "Ah. I presume Herr Flick is busy again?"

Helga was taken back. "No, Rene! No, for once I am not being stood up! If you must know, I am waiting on Lieutenant Gruber – not that you would care!"

Rene stepped back in fear. "I do apologise! I really did not have any idea, I should not have presumed. May I offer you a drink by way of apology? On the house, of course." He clutched the empty tray he was carrying to his chest and fearfully awaited her answer.

Helga sighed. "I, too, am sorry. I should not have snapped like that; you were not to know. A large brandy would do just fine. And, if you wouldn't mind… a cognac for when the Lieutenant arrives."

Rene nodded and bowed backwards towards the bar. "Of course. Right away, Helga."

Helga nodded in response and turned back to look out of the window. It was now too dark to see out further than her reflection in the window pane; she appraised the image and realised with a jolt that she looked an absolute wreck. Her hair was untidy, her collar was crooked and her cheeks were flushed from the altercation. What a mess. She looked back down at her watch for the umpteenth time; 8:36pm. Where was he?

The drinks arrived, and time continued to pass. Helga gradually became aware of the stares she was receiving from her fellow customers; it was certainly a strange sight to see a woman left alone for so long, and so late in the evening. She chose to ignore the looks, and instead to continue staring out of the window, in the hopes that he would suddenly appear.

"Helga? Helga, wake up… it's me." Helga felt a gentle hand shake her shoulder as the soft voice came further into clarity. She groaned and lifted her head slowly, raising her hand to rub the sleep from her eyes before looking up to reveal who had woken her from her slumber.

Gruber looked down at her, a look of guilt spread across his face. She noticed he had his arm in a sling, and the shoulder of his jacket was draped across the affected arm; leaving his shirt exposed, and his collar undone. He looked almost as dishevelled as her, and just as tired, if not more so.

"I am so sorry to have kept you waiting… thank you for ordering my drink." He gestured to the two glasses on the table, one full to the brim, the other completely drained empty.

Helga felt a sudden wave of anger fill her head and her chest; she raised herself from her seat and, in a fit of emotion, she swatted his good arm. "You idiot! How could you do this to me? Do you have any idea what was going through my mind? I have been frantic all day! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

As soon as it started, it was over; she collapsed into an exhausted heap back onto her chair. Gruber looked stunned, and after a few moments silently drinking in what had just occurred, he slowly took his seat opposite her.

"Helga… I really am sorry. Please let me explain?" He pleaded.

Helga said nothing, but nodded at him to continue, her eyes resting on the floor.

"You see… I really did intend to be here at 7pm. There was initially no reason why I should not have been. But then I was called to see the General… he is most displeased at the attack we suffered over the weekend. He has granted me another chance, for which I am eternally thankful. I am able to stay and continue my duties here in Nouvion. But it was around half past 8 when I was finally free to go, and…" he sighed. "I am sorry. I felt I had let you down, and everyone else, too. I was already late to meet you; I don't know how well I'm going to be able to teach you now. I suppose I should count my blessings that it was not one of my legs that was injured. But I am afraid… I am afraid I will make this mistake again. This should not have happened. Many of my platoon were injured far worse than myself, and I am responsible for that."

He picked up his glass, drained half, and sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "You are right, however. I should have been here to let you know that it was just my arm, that everything is alright. I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?" He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

Helga paused for a moment, and then raised her eyes to meet his. "Of course I can. There is nothing to forgive. Just… please do not worry me like that again?"

Gruber nodded, and formed a shaky smile. "Of course not."

Helga smiled back at him and breathed a sigh of relief. "In a way, I suppose it is good that you were so late – it would not have done at all for me to create such a scene in front of a full café!"

Gruber laughed. "No, I suppose it wouldn't! Although the sight of it would probably have proved to be a gossip point for many weeks… especially in a little town like this where the most interesting thing that happens is when the pigeons fall from the sky at the sound of Madame Edith's singing…"

They laughed amicably, for many minutes longer than such a joke deserved. Eventually, when the mood died down, Gruber looked at his watch and realised it was getting late; they were both tired, and they needed to get to sleep.

"Shall we walk together back to the Chateau?" Gruber offered.

Helga nodded. "That would be most lovely."

They both stood from their seats and, with a smile, Gruber bowed his head slightly and proffered his arm to Helga. "M'lady?"

"Why thank you, kind sir!" Helga chuckled, and gently she took hold of his forearm. They shared a smile, and Helga picked up Gruber's hat; realising that he now had no free hands to take it, she gently placed it onto his head. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Rene and his waitresses could do nothing but gawp at the sight as the couple, arm in arm, left the café together. Rene shook his head in disbelief.

"I must say… this war does some strange, strange things to people."