Chapter Nine: But Now He's Dear

Georg was certain he'd lost his mind. When he'd awoken, there had been a small spider, spinning a lazy web, in one corner of the ceiling and he'd spent the better part of an hour watching it. He'd even named it.

He'd been saved from his boredom when a polite knock on the door had announced the arrival of Frau Schmidt to change his bandage. His happiness had been short lived as she hadn't been alone; the idiot doctor was with her.

Thankfully his visit had been short, and he'd also given Georg another dose of medication – albeit a lesser dose this time. Still, the mere sight of the man had made Georg's jaw lock in irritation. How could someone be so enthusiastic all the live-long day?

A voice in his head reminded him that Fraulein Maria was happy most of the time, but then another chimed in that she at least had the decency to get angry, or annoyed, like any other decent human being.

It didn't seem to matter how biting or rude Georg was, Doctor Herz chattered away, clearly not bothered by the grumpy sea captain he was attending to. After the doctor had left, the children, and Elsa, had then come to visit him while the governess waited outside. He'd heard the sound of Gretl's voice outside his door trying to coerce Fraulein Maria into coming with them but he'd heard her gentle voice telling him that it was just family that was to see him.

The children had seemed in better spirits since he'd seen them yesterday, and he was certain he looked much more human today – at least he could form a coherent sentence – but they'd still been awkward. It had taken him only two seconds to notice how Louisa wasn't paying him any attention but silently glaring at Elsa – who had perched herself on the edge of his bed and grabbed his hand – while she gossiped on.

Once he'd been able to get her to leave the children had finally come to life, offering him get well cards and even a cake with 'Papa' in wobbly icing written on it. They'd talked excitedly and he'd even let Marta and Gretl crawl up onto the bed to sit on his good side so they could show him the paintings they had made for him.

After a while, they'd been gently ushered out by Frau Schmidt so she could give Georg his breakfast in peace. But the peace hadn't lasted long.

He'd been about to tuck into his food when the door had opened again and Max had sauntered in, before plonking down in the same armchair Fraulein Maria had occupied last night.

"Good morning, Georg!" said Max happily, swiping a bread roll off Georg's breakfast tray.

"Max," said Georg tersely, sipping at his coffee. He cast a glance at the spider that was still on the ceiling and decided that being bored was better than being incapacitated while in the presence of Max Detweiler. "What do you want?"

Max made an affronted face. "I came to visit my dear friend. You know, see how he was doing," he said between mouthfuls of bread, "see if he needed anything."

"Looking for an excuse to borrow my car, you mean?" muttered Georg.

Max shrugged and dusted some crumbs off himself before standing, idly roaming about the room. His eyes landed on the portrait of Agathe on the dresser, but he said nothing. The children had told him all about the two photographs now residing in the nursery. It was...interesting.

He'd actually been spending a fair amount of time the past two days with the children. While in town the other day, he'd managed to secure a brand new puppet stage and puppets for the von Trapp children – all purchased under Georg's name, naturally. Those children had needed a distraction, and if that distraction had the potential of benefiting him, well…

"Georg, I wouldn't dream of it," said Max with a grin. "I was just trying to be helpful."

"There is actually something you may be able to help me with," said Georg slowly, lowering his coffee.

"Yes?"

"I want to get Fraulein Maria a gift of some sort, for her help," he said stiffly.

Max arched an eyebrow. "A gift? For the governess?"

"Yes," Georg said in clipped tones. "You were right." Max bounced on his heels at this and sent him a smug smile. Georg rolled his eyes as he went on, "I behaved terribly towards her and she has been very kind. I want to get her something, but I'm not sure what."

Smirking, Max said airily, "Well, there are the usual things - flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep..."

"She isn't Elsa, Max. She's the governess not my, uh-" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Never mind, just forget I said anything."

Max merely shrugged. He knew that Georg's behaviour had been less than desirable towards the little governess, but things had been better – even after he'd chased her out of the house. It irked him somewhat that he hadn't been able to get the full story out of either of them. Whatever had happened, they'd put it aside and behaved liked adults – something that had surprised Max.

The two of them had seemed incapable of acting like adults while in the same room, constantly bickering – in a good natured sort of way – but still, always trying to one up the other. But now, now, things seemed different.

Granted, he'd had little chance to see them interact. But he was on good terms with one of the housemaids and she'd informed him that she had heard no arguments since that night. Max's earlier thoughts on the subject had been a little worrisome, but now they were screaming for his attention.

It could be nothin but then again it could very well be something. We'll just have to wait and see, Max told himself, give it a few days more.


The next day there was a merry tinkling as the shop door swung open, letting Mathilde Schmidt into the lavish store. She manoeuvred her way around a group of mannequins draped with fine silk until she made it to the counter. A thin, elderly woman with a face like a sharpened axe turned her beady gaze onto her.

"I'm here to pick up a parcel for Captain von Trapp," said Mathilde.

The woman managed to purse her lips even further than they already were, making Mathilde feel like she was speaking to a cat's behind.

"And you are?" came the condescending question.

"I'm his housekeeper, Frau Schmidt – Mathilde Schmidt," replied Mathilde, not in the mood for the shop mistress's games. "I telephone earlier."

With a small jerky nod of the head, the woman disappeared into the backroom behind the counter, leaving the housekeeper alone in the over perfumed shop. It was a couturier for fine women's clothing and the Captain had instructed her to pick up a parcel for him.

The woman returned a moment later and passed a carefully wrapped package towards her.

"I told the Captain that we could make something up for him by tomorrow evening," said the shop mistress with a sniff. "I do not understand why he just wants the fabric."

"It's not a dress?" asked Mathilde, puzzled.

She'd been expecting to pick up dress, something for Baroness Schraeder she had assumed. Why had the Captain wanted just fabric? The last time he'd ordered fabric from town it had been for the gover-

"No," said the woman sharply, clearly appalled at selling unmade garment - but obviously not too appalled that she wasn't happy to accept the same amount of money for it even it had been made. "If he does change his mind, please do bring it in and we can arrange something."

With a quick thank you, the housekeeper left the store and made her way through the cobbled lanes to finish off the rest of her errands.


"Captain?"

Georg refocused his eyes, trying to act like his mind hadn't been elsewhere. He had been staring at nothing while being lulled by the gentle embrace of Fraulein Maria's voice. He'd made sure to be wearing a shirt this evening; he was not going to conduct a meeting while shirtless again. The last two nights had been excruciating, having her near him while she chatted happily, him half naked.

He didn't care if he was in bed, he would damn well have some sort of decorum. After a painful few minutes of trying to get his arm in the sleeve, he'd made an effort to button his shirt up – though the top few had proven too tricky. But the effort was there.

It was a little unnerving how soothing he found her voice, and he was glad for the shirt as he was sure his heart thudded far too hard inside his ribcage, and that she'd be able to see it struggling to break free and fall into her hands. It was that damn voice of hers. It was the sweetest sound, utterly coaxing and gentle.

The reason he found himself in this situation was because of yesterday evening when she'd come for their nightly meeting and to change the bandage on his arm. She'd been humming some tune he didn't recognise under her breath – it was horribly catchy whatever it was – and she'd explained that the children had been preparing a little play for him. With a stubborn shake of the head, and a happy little shine to her eyes, she'd kept her mouth – that utterly delicious mouth - shut on any other details, saying it was a surprise. But that had started up a conversation about music, which had then turned to poetry and then, before he knew it, she was grabbing one of the books she brought up and flicking through it to read some typically soppy poem she adored.

So, naturally, he'd told her to get a poetry book from his study, one he kept in his desk, and to bring it with her tonight to read from. And now here he was, trying to stop himself from leaning over and scooping her into the bed with him.

He snapped backed to reality. "Yes, Fraulein?" he asked.

"Do you want to sit outside?" asked Maria, placing her finger carefully on the page she'd been reading from. "The sun is about to go down-" She gave him a smile. "I think some fresh air might do you some good."

Fresh air sounded like the best idea Georg had ever heard.


It was only a short while later that Georg found himself sitting on one of the wicker chairs out on the bedroom balcony, Fraulein Maria nestled in the other. It was so good to be in the fresh air, it was strange how you didn't notice it until you were suddenly confined to your room for three whole days. He could feel it surging through him, bringing him back to life. Tired of sitting, he let himself unfold from the depths of the chair and walk, somewhat stiffly, over to the balustrade.

He cast a glance over at the governess, who had her knees tucked up under her as she rested the small book poems she'd been reading from on one knee. She smiled at him and continued to read from where she'd stopped earlier.

"The air is blue and keen and cold and in a frozen sheath, enrolled. Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass seems clad miraculously with glass.'" Maria paused and let her eyes land on the lake, following the arcing path of a lark as it skimmed over the shimmering water.

"I feel as if I'm seeing it for the first time," said Georg, staring out at the scene in front of him.

It was hard to believe only a few weeks ago he'd been standing down there by the lake with Elsa, taking in the same view as now. Then it had just been scenery, all trees and lake and mountains all blurring into one. But now, everything was sharp and clear. He could smell the sweet scent of summer, hear the buzz of insects as they dipped along with the wind. The sun was setting just behind one of the towering mountains, a soft burst of oranges and pinks blazing across the sky.

"It's a beautiful view," said Maria, a smile curving her lips. She stood up and walked up to the Captain to stand next to him and leant over the balustrade. "The mountains are just so captivating! It makes me want to run to them." She laughed and reached out a hand. "I feel like sometimes I could just reach out and touch them."

"I'm sure you're used to mountains by now," remarked Georg, his eyes leaving the view and focusing on the woman standing next to him. Taking a small step back, he allowed his eyes to linger in places they shouldn't. They noticed the gentle curve of her waist, the way the setting sun glinted off her golden halo of hair and how when she turned to look at him, her eyes lit up ever so slightly.

She scrunched up her nose at him. "It's not like once you've seen one mountain you've seen them all, Captain."

Georg couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "Of course, that would be ridiculous." He gestured to the book as he casually leant against the rail again. "Is there anymore?"

Maria blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the fleeting look that had been in the Captain's eye. He kept looking at her, and it was made shivers run down her spine and the skin on her arms prickle with excited anticipation. It was like when he looked at her, he really saw her. She moved back over to the chair and picked up the poetry book before she returned to the Captain. Leaning her back against the balustrade, she gave the Captain another smile and tried to ignore the way his returning smile made her feel.

"Um," she started, dragging her eyes back to the pages of the little book. "'But in that solemn silence is heard the whisper of every sleeping thing. Look. Look at me. Come wake me up." She felt her eyes lift of the text and find his, and she was sure she felt something akin to fire flare within her. "'For still here I be…'" Maria trailed off; her eyes still locked with his before she hastily turned her face away to stare across at the mountains.

Her stomach felt like it was in knots. What was happening to her? She didn't understand why he was looking at her like that and what it was making her feel. It was frustrating. She couldn't describe it. It made her want to do something but she didn't even know what the something was.

The Captain cleared his throat. "You can retire if you wish, Fraulein. You don't have to stay here with me if you do not wish to."

Forgetting her earlier discomfit, Maria turned back to face him again. "Oh, no, I do want to be here with you." She felt her face go red. "I mean, uh, that is to say I don't mind keeping you company." Taking a deep breath, she added in a calmer voice. "If you want me to leave, you just have to say, Captain, I don't want to keep you."

"No, no, no," said Georg and he couldn't help the sheepish smile that stretched his lips. "It's nice to have someone to talk to, actually." He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the expression on her face. She looked curious, but delighted. It was oddly alluring. Hell, he thought, everything about her was. With an impatient flex of his fingers, he gestured towards his room. "But, I'm sure you must be tired. If you don't mind changing my arm before you go then that'll be all."

"Of course," said Maria.

Walking back into the room, Maria moved across to one of the two doors on the far side of the room. She now knew that the left lead to the Captain's wardrobe and the right one was the bathroom, she pushed through the door on the right.

Yesterday evening, when she had first entered the bathroom, she'd been slightly wowed by the enormity of it. The bathroom in her room was fairly large but this had been something else. It was beautifully tiled, the room gleaming with its white walls and golden faucets. The enormous bathtub on one wall had made her fingers itch; it was at least twice the size of the one in her room. Immediately her face had burned red as to why it was so large, but then that had faded away to be replaced by a sad realisation that this room was built for two, but only used by one.

How hard must it be to get ready every morning and change every night in the same suite that you had once shared with the person you loved? To then sleep in that large bed, all on your own, when you used to have someone else by your side.

It was heartbreaking.

Yet, here was the Captain, trying so hard to put the past behind him and move on.

Grabbing a new roll of bandages and the ointment, Maria hurried out of the bathroom to find the Captain sitting on his bed – his shirt already off – as he waited for her.

Sitting on the edge, as far away as was practical, she slowly removed the old bandage.

"Is it feeling better?" asked Maria, trying to keep her voice casual. It wouldn't matter if she did this a hundred times, she'd never not feel the traitorous blush whenever she looked at his skin. "Frau Schmidt said this morning that it was looking much improved." She peeled the last part of the bandage and took a closer look. "And it certainly does."

"Mmm," muttered the Captain. "It does feel better. I must say, I don't think I need to be stuck in bed. It's only my arm."

Maria just shrugged.

"Thank you, for doing this by the way," said Georg as he felt her small hand on his arm applying the cooling ointment. "It's very kind of you, Fraulein."

"It's no problem, Captain," replied Maria as she continued to work. "It was kind of my fault you were injured in the first place."

There was a low rumble from the Captain and Maria raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. He was smirking at her, still chuckling.

"I'm surprised to hear you admit anything was your fault," he said.

She glared at him, though there was no real malice in it. "I can admit to fault, thank you very much." She raised her chin at him and Georg was half surprised she didn't poke her tongue out at him.

He didn't say anymore and once she was finished, he grabbed his shirt and shrugged back into awkwardly. It was difficult trying to bend his arm and fit it through the sleeve, he could feel the new skin from where the cut was protesting at being stretched.

"Here," said the governess, who had returned from the putting the supplies back in the bathroom. "Let me help."

She gently pushed his arm away and pulled the shirt off him, completely unaware of Georg's reaction. It didn't seem to faze the woman at all that she'd forcibly taken his shirt off, or that was wherever she touched him, his skin burned with a fiery need.

"Put your injured arm in first," she said, her small hand grasping his wrist gently and threading it through. "Now the other arm."

He felt like he'd been frozen in place, or that his whole body had gone limp – well, maybe not all of his body if he was honest. But, he let her pull the shirt on properly before she was buttoning it up.

She finally looked at him and smiled. "There," she said, smoothing his collar down. "That's better. You look so odd without a shirt on."

Georg just raised an eyebrow and watched as her smile faltered and a flush suffused her cheeks.

"Uh," said Maria before she cleared her throat. She dithered, trying to think of something to say. Something safe. "I had to help Gretl get dressed for a week when she sprained her wrist. You have to make sure you put the injured arm in through first or else you just get all tangled up."

"While Gretl may be the youngest, she is still quite cunning," said Georg, letting her earlier comment slide – for now. "She only deliberately did it wrong so you would continue to help her. You always sang her songs and kissed her nose. She's like a cat that child, she just wants attention." He briefly wondered if he could do the same.

The same thought occurred to Maria, who shook it away with a blithe smile.

"Well, still," she said. "It was the least I could do, it was my fault she sprained her wrist."

"Hmm, yes, how many people in my family have been injured due to something you did?" asked Georg, standing up. He hated having her hovering above him. It caused all his brain cells to shut down and just picture him pulling her into his lap.

She huffed at him. "You shouldn't say those kind of things to the person in charge of looking after your injury."

"I suppose not," said Georg. "I actually have something to give you, if you'll just wait a second before you leave."

Ducking into his wardrobe, Georg grabbed the parcel he'd had Frau Schmidt pick up earlier today and came back out, shutting the door behind him.

"This is for you," he said, handing it to her. "A thank you, for your help." He grinned at her. "Better keep you happy lest you injure my other arm, hmm?"

Maria was surprised. A gift? For her?

"Captain, you didn't have to get me anything," she said. "Like I said, I'm happy to be of any help. You're the one that saved my life remember? I can admit that."

Georg didn't need to be reminded. Some of his dreams, or nightmares, had featured that night and what could have happened if he'd had been too late. He didn't deserve her kindness. Certainly not with the way he thought of her. And it wasn't even just the attraction; he felt that he relied on her too much. She'd become too important to him. It was like he disrespecting the memory of Agathe in a way. Or, at least it should have felt like that. But it didn't, somehow.

"No, I should never have frightened you enough to cause you to run away," he said seriously. "And this is certainly not enough to make up for that, but I suppose it's hard to know what to get for a nun-to-be."

Unwrapping the parcel, and sifting through some fine tissue paper, a heap of blue chiffon was revealed. Maria let her fingers run through it, the material slipping through her fingers like water. It was the most beautiful fabric she'd ever laid her hands on. She looked up at the Captain, a disbelieving look on her face.

"You seem to have quite a talent with a needle and thread," said Georg with a dismissive wave of the hand. "I got Frau Schmidt to pick it up for me this afternoon."

"It's lovely, thank you," was all Maria managed to say.

"Well, that'll be all, Fraulein," said the Captain, giving her a curt nod.

Knowing that was her cue to leave, Maria wandered out into the hall, still staring at the parcel in her arms.

Things were getting strange. A week or so ago, she'd felt like her and the Captain had become friends of a sort. And then, since the night he'd been attacked, she thought they had repaired their strange friendship. But with the way her thoughts were going, and the way she felt every time she saw him, she wasn't entirely sure what to think of anything now.

She found herself looking forward to the end of the day and being able to go up and see him. And last night, when he'd asked her to get his own book of poems so she could read it to him, she'd been delighted. Not only because he wanted to spend time with her, but also because he trusted her enough to go into his study without him there. Whatever their relationship had become, Maria considered him a friend, and a dear one at that.

She told herself she was becoming too familiar with him, she needed to take a step back and remember she was the governess. She had to remember that she'd be gone in a little under two months. This made her heart ache; she knew she'd miss those children and she was able to admit that she'd miss their father too – as surprising as that was. But she knew most of all she'd miss the children.

Like with the story she'd told the Captain about Gretl, Maria had known that Gretl had just wanted attention, but the thing was that Maria had thoroughly enjoyed doting on that little girl. It made her heart feel like it would burst with joy anytime Gretl tugged on her dress and asked for Maria to help her with something. It was the purest thing on God's Earth.

It was love. And Maria had no idea how she would ever part from those children, knowing full well she'd be leaving a part of her own heart behind for them to keep.


A/N

Thank you for all the kind reviews – especially guests since I can't respond to you personally! This chapter was a little tricky and I don't think it flows very well but I'm having some serious writer's block right now so I might come back and edit it at some point. So, I apologise for it being a bit clunky!

Also, I cannot believe this is chapter nine. I wanted this to be like ten chapters but we haven't even reached the puppet show! I hope you all like a slow burn, I guess haha I seem to be bad at doing a fast burn (is that a thing? I'm calling it a thing anyway.)

There are a lot of repurposed BatB scenes in this chapter, so anything remotely clever belongs to Disney.