A/N: I've finally updated! I haven't abandoned this story, and I don't plan on it. Over the past year, my life has become incredibly busy. Even during summer, I had no time to myself! And then a few months ago, my computer - holding all of my stories - crashed! Me, being the idiot that I am, didn't back up any of my files (including this story)and lost everything. And so I put my writing on hold. But now I'm almost halfway through my senior year, and I've finished all my college applications and my life is finally beginning to slow down. I miss writing this story so much, and I've already begun planning future chapters.

Also (insert shameless self-promotion here) I've started a new story called The Season, based on the Downton Abbey television series. It's a wonderful show (the cinematography, the acting..everything is beautiful) and anyone who hasn't watched it yet should definitely try to if they have the time. It's based around the lives of the Crawleys, British aristocrats, and their servants, starting with the sinking of the Titanic in 1912 and leading up to the end of World War I.

Just a warning, this chapter is extremely mushy. It's set during Anne and Gil's first winter at Four Winds, and it's just...pure fluff. I loved writing it, but it's full of cliches! But I hope you enjoy it anyway. I'd promise an update soon, but last time I promised an update in two weeks...and it's been almost a year -_- But I have been planning it out, and this story is shaping up to be about fifteen chapters of Anne/Gilbert mush.. so sit back, relax, and enjoy!


Auld Lang Syne

1890—

Anne and Gilbert walked home from the lighthouse alone, with only each other and the faint echo of crickets to keep them company. Gilbert's arm was wrapped firmly around Anne's shoulders, keeping her warm on the cold New Year's night. She looked up at him from underneath her red wisps of hair and smiled, causing Gilbert to hold his beloved Anne-girl closer.

"I couldn't think of a lovelier moment," Anne whispered softly. The trees billowed, leafless, around them, casting eerie shadows and blocking the starry night sky. "It's more than I could've ever dreamed."

For once words failed Anne. Her indescribable happiness—a happiness that had yet to vanish since her wedding to Gilbert—simply could not be described. It was odd, wonderful feeling that Anne adored.

"Have I made you very happy, Anne?" queried Gilbert, his breath clouding up the cold air. God only knew how happy she had made him.

"Oh, Gil," Anne whispered, her voice dreamlike. She would, she felt, never get tired of expressing her feelings to him. He was her best friend and her husband—how silly had she been to think that the two could never mix! "You've made me so excruciatingly happy that I'm afraid this is all a dream…that I'll wake up feeling as I did when I found out you were sick. I never—never—want to feel that way again. It was as if my whole world had been taken from me."

Gilbert's voice became soft, understanding. "I know the feeling." They both knew the moment he was referencing, but neither spoke of it. "And I hope that you never have to feel that again, Anne."

"I'm positive I won't," Anne told him, her voice sure and steady. Gilbert's smile widened; Anne's own grew to match his. "Not while everything's as perfect as it is now."

The couple fell into a content, blissful silence as they stepped forward onto the tree-line pathway that led to their picture-perfect House of Dreams. It welcomed them like an old friend as they stepped into it, the warm air greeting them. Anne drank the feeling in; the house held the same atmosphere as Green Gables—something she'd thought could never be duplicated.

The New Year had come and gone, floating in and of the old lighthouse. Anne and Gilbert had a delightful evening with their Four Winds friends, but they were grateful that they got to return to their "home 'o dreams" afterwards. Nothing could compare to the heavenly feeling Anne felt as she watched Gilbert—her Gilbert—start a warming fire in their tiny hearth while she sat down on the couch. When the fire burst, engulfing the fireplace in heated flames, Anne placed a sender, contented hand to her stomach. Gilbert turned his attention away from the hearthside, smiling warmly at Anne.

"How are you feeling tonight, Anne-girl?" Gilbert asked, his eyes dancing in the firelight. He picked up one of the quilts Anne had brought from green Gables, draping the patterned cloth over her delicate frame.

Anne smiled, dropping her starry grey gaze to her stomach. "Tired," she answered as a tiny, whimsical smile graced her lips. "But I did have a wonderful time tonight, Gilbert. And it's just lovely to think that while we're out, having a delightful time with our friends, we have this wonderful home to come back to. Tonight, at the light, every so often my mind would wander…thinking about how content I'd be sitting at home with you, and a warm hearth-fire in the background. My life is perfect—absolutely and completely—stunningly and incandescently—perfect."

"As is mine." Gilbert's words were plainer; flowering adjectives and run-on sentences were absent, but his words still held the same great sentiment. Quietly, Gilbert settled onto the couch, next to Anne's loving body.

"This is our first New Year together," Anne commented, her voice light, as Gilbert wrapped his strong arm around her slender shoulder.

Gilbert shook his head. "But it isn't, though." Anne looked up, her red eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "We were together your first New Year's here—we sat underneath the Snow Queen together. Don't you remember?"

The memory quickly flooded back into Anne's mind—how could she forget? "Oh, yes," she said, "at Marilla and Matthew's party. Of course I remember, Gilbert."

"And I kissed you," he continued, the corners of his lips dancing upwards as he recalled the memory. Anne blushed, remembering how embarrassed she'd been over the whole ordeal. "I was a brave lad, especially after the torture you made me endure that year."

"You may have been brave," concurred Anne, "but I was stubborn. That's far worse."

"Yet it's one of the many things I love about you." Gilbert's voice was sweet, soft. "You wouldn't be Anne if you weren't stubborn."

Anne sighed, remembering the days gone by. "I admire your patience."

Gilbert nodded. His patience had been rewarded—Anne was sitting by his side as his wife. "What about the year that Billy Andrews proposed to you?"

"How could I forget!" Anne exclaimed. She hadn't thought of it in years, yet she still felt the sting of wounded pride when Jane had told her that Billy would propose to Nettie Blewett if Anne denied him. "I've not spoken of that since it happened—since I told you."

"Nor I have. I kept my promise—I've never told anyone."

"Oh, Gilbert…do you remember the New Year's that we were apart?" Anne felt an aching in her heart as she remembered that year. "You remained in Kingsport and I wrote you a letter…I should've known then—as I stared at Roy's roses and thought of you instead—that I could never be with Roy. Do you remember that letter?"

"That letter…at the time—it meant everything to me, Anne," Gilbert finally finished, standing up as he did so. "I'll be right back."

Anne stared, nonplussed, as she watched her husband retreat into their room. A few moments later, he returned, a small piece of paper in his hands. Anne squinted, attempting to see what it was, but her attempts were futile.

Gilbert held the folded up paper in front of Anne. She saw that its edges were warped and yellow with age…and she also saw her handwriting on it. Could it really be…? "Gil," she whispered, gently taking it from his hands.

"Happy New Year, Gilbert," the letter read, Anne's familiar handwriting staring back at her.

She stared up at him, not quite sure of what to say. And then—"You've kept this letter all these years?"

Gilbert took a seat next to her, the weight of his body pressing down on the plush couch cushions. "Of course I did." Gilbert's words were soft, full of love. Anne couldn't resist the tiny smile that her lips created. "I told you, Anne, that letter meant the world to me. It gave me hope when I thought all hope was gone."

Gilbert thought he saw a tear drop from the corner of Anne's eye. He'd never seen her cry before—it was mysterious and beautiful all at once. "We've a simple love story, Anne-of-mine," Gilbert told her softly. "But it's a love story. And that's all that matters."

Anne looked up at him, her tears gone. "It's greater than anything I've ever read. It'll be a great story to tell our child."

Gilbert nodded, his smile still in place—until Anne's words hit him with full force. He was struck dumb, unsure if he had heard correctly. "Our…child?" He had finally pieced the words together.

Anne nodded her red head, a jovial smile crossing her face. She'd been waiting for the right time to tell Gilbert—she couldn't think of a more perfect one than that moment. "I'm with child, Gil."

Gilbert's head was spinning. He'd never imagined he'd be hit with such news on a night like the one at present. Slowly, a wide smile spread across his face—he looked suddenly boyish again. Anne reveled in his happiness. A quiet settled around them as Anne let Gilbert processed the news. After a few moments, Anne asked, "What are you thinking about, Gilbert?"

Gilbert's steady hazel eyes met Anne's; in them, she could see a kind of happiness she'd never seen before. It was fatherly. "If she's a girl," Gil began slowly, "I want her to have red hair."

"Red hair!" exclaimed Anne, surprise evident in her voice. "But—why!"

"I happen to be very fond of red hair," Gilbert replied smugly.

Anne laughed, her voice echoing off the papered walls of their little home. "Well, I want her—or him—to have perfectly beautiful nut-brown hair, so they won't have to endure years of insecurity and teasing."

"You've always been dramatic about hair," Gilbert said, resigned. "But I also want our girl to have your brains and your ambition. Being smart is much better than being pretty."

"After all these years," Anne said, sighing. "I think I've finally realized that. But I've also resigned myself to red hair and freckles for the rest of my life."

Gilbert shook his head playfully. "I can't believe we're having a child, Anne. It seems only yesterday that we were children, and you were crushing my candied hears underneath the heel of your boots. Oh, I tried so hard to win your affections."

"And I was a perfectly cruel child," Anne replied, reminiscing once more. "Although at the time, I thought I serving justice for my scorned pride. I hope our child doesn't get my temper. It got me into an excruciating amount of trouble when I was younger."

"We can only pray that our child gets the best of both of us."

Anne smiled, placing a hand on her stomach once more. Gilbert followed, placing his brawny hand atop hers. "It's been a wonderful New Year's," she commented, gazing down at her stomach. "One of the best yet."

"It has," agreed Gilbert. "Happy New Year, Anne Blythe."

Anne gazed into his eyes, seeing her own happiness reflected in his. "Happy New Year, Gilbert."

Gilbert leaned down, his brown hair brushing against Anne's body as his face reached her stomach. He smiled, and then said, "Happy New Year, little one."

xxx


A/N: And that was it! I hope you enjoyed it...please give me your thoughts and review! xx