Not wanting to risk waking Ana up if she was still sleeping on the couch, Christian had spent the early morning hours working from his laptop in his bedroom. It was Saturday, so Gail wouldn't have been in the kitchen making breakfast at 6:30 like she usually was during the week, and therefore Ana would remain undisturbed. After wasting as much time as he could on work, he took a quick shower, throwing on some leisure clothes before finally making his way into the main living area around 8AM.

He passed by the couch, surprised to find it empty. Maybe she'd woken in the middle of the night and made her way to the guest room? He turned to the staircase, but heard a noise in the kitchen before he even made it up one step. Making his way to the kitchen now, he expected to see her in there, but was instead met with the presence of Gail who was washing dishes.

"Gail, what are you doing in here so early on a Saturday? Where's Anastasia?"

Gail turned around, her normally friendly smile somewhat turned down with sympathetic tilt. "I came in this morning to borrow some milk for my coffee and found Miss Steele rummaging around the kitchen for food. I offered to make her something. She tried to decline, but I could tell she was hungry, so I insisted. She ate quickly. She seemed apprehensive about leaving without speaking to you. I offered to check and see if you were awake, knowing your sleeping patterns often have you up early, but she didn't want to risk waking you up. She said she regretted having to leave without seeing you, and asked me to please extend her apology, as well as her heartfelt appreciation for letting her stay last night."

"So she's gone?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room for a moment like she might actually pop out from behind a counter or something.

"Yes, sir. She left at about a quarter after seven," she said with an apologetic shrug. "There's extra food on warm in the oven for you. I figured since I was cooking for her, I'd make enough for you to have a good meal as well."

"Thank you Gail," he said, dismissing her back to her quarters before removing the food from the oven and eating.

It was Saturday, but he had plans at the office today. The wheels had been set in motion to sever business ties with Elena Lincoln, and paperwork had just been completed to remove Grey Enterprise Holdings as the financial backing of Esclava Salons.

It was straight forward business. If Elena had been saving her earnings wisely, there was even a shot that she could back herself now, rather than having to search for another willing investor. The salons were definitely profitable enough. Christian has always taken a meager wage from them, really only enough to replace his costs. Elena kept all the profit. He hadn't needed it, and he had drawn up the contracts at a time when he thought he'd owed her. So he's been more than willing to front her the necessary funds at cost.

But now he wanted out. He was done. And whether or not Elena had the financial capabilities to back herself was of no consequence to him. He'd done more than his fair share for this, even if Elena has been completely honest with him from the beginning. But the truth was, she hadn't. She had been the epitome of dishonesty, of manipulation.

That was why he could now don a suit, go into his office, and terminate their business relationship without a second thought. At one time he held Elena in the highest esteem. Grace and Carrick has loved him, had saved him. But Elena knew him. And she was the only one who did. But now, he was starting to think, maybe that was his fault. He'd been the one to push away his family. He'd been the one unwilling to trust them to accept him. His life wasn't what he had thought it was all these years. Maybe, at another time, he should sit down and think about what he really wanted from life. Hell, if he was capable of a potential friendship, who knew what else he was capable of which he'd never considered because of the words Elena had taught him all those years ago.

Monday morning brought with it the barrage of phone calls from Elena beseeching Christian to speak to her regarding the 'mistake' the bank must have made over the weekend. He'd expected her call, and made sure Andrea continued fielding them so Elena could not get through. Mrs. Hipp had all the information Elena needed to answer all of her questions, if only Elena would call her. Still, every hour when Andrea gave him an updated list of his missed calls, there were multiple offenses from Elena.

Instead, when he had a little free time, he chose to contact Anastasia instead. He'd been in contact with her since Saturday, the most recent night she'd spent as Escala, but only through a few texts sent back and forth, mainly checking on her wellbeing. It was nothing loquacious. He'd ensured her safety getting to her apartment that morning after he'd gotten the message from Gail that she'd left. He'd gone to work, done what he needed regarding Elena, and had come home to his big, quiet apartment. He'd considered trying to reach out to Anastasia to see her that night, but thought better of it. It was a Saturday, and she probably had plans. Sunday had passed, including a family dinner he'd begrudgingly agreed to attend, and then he'd again gone back to Escala. Now, Monday, with everything official regarding Elena, he felt the urge to reach out to Ana again.

Pulling up his email, he quickly typed out his message to her and sent it.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Dinner?

To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele,

I was wondering if you would be so inclined as to accompany me to dinner tonight. My treat, of course.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings, Inc.

He drifted back into work, and when he checked his inbox a half hour later, there was a returned message waiting for him.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Re: Dinner?

To: Christian Grey

I am most curious to find out how you have obtained my email address. Add that to 'creepy' list, Mr. Grey. Though I can't say I'm surprised. If you were so easily able to track my phone, I have no doubt you can get something as simple as an email address. As for your request? Sure, I'll have dinner with you. When and where?

Ana

He quickly responded.

From: Christian Grey (1:44PM)

Subject: Re: Re: Dinner?

To: Anastasia Steele

As I told you before, Miss Steele, you can find anything if you want it badly enough. As for diner, I was thinking 7:00 at the Mile High Club. I can pick you up at 6:30 if you would like.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings, Inc.

He found himself smiling slightly. She said yes. And he was looking forward to it. Not just to telling her the news that he'd cut ties with Elena, but to just seeing her in general. Just spend a little time with her. To do something normal and enjoy a social situation rather than feelings completely out of place in it. He was planning to take her to the Mile High Club. He was going to take her out. In public. To his restaurant. And eat a nice, normal meal with her. It was so novel, the whole idea of 'normal'.

Friendship.

He was still stuck on that concept. He'd been mulling it over in his mind ever since Friday night, and it still confounded him. While he awaited her reply, he pulled up the internet browser and absently typed in the word 'friend'.

Friend: frend/ noun

1. a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.

Immediately the definition was off-putting. Affection? That was a little… much, wasn't it? Regard? Sure. Partiality? He would agree to that. He could even go so far as to say he had a predilection toward her. But affection? That word threw the brakes on him a little. It was disconcerting to associate a woman with the word affection unless it was Grace and Mia, but the context of that was completely different.

Minimizing the screen, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He really needed to talk to Flynn about it. Luckily he had an appointment scheduled for Tuesday at lunch.

Opening up his email window again, he saw her response waiting.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Dinner?

To: Christian Grey

See you at 6:30!

Ana

The meal was nice. Christian has requested a semi-private table so they would not be the center of attention at the restaurant. He wanted to focus on her, not on the people focusing on them. And people would look. They always looked, but especially if he was bringing a girl out, people were going to be interested. Because it was a novelty.

Taylor had informed him that he'd secured them Christian's usual fully private table for dinner, but Christian had asked him to alter the arrangement, instead opting for the semi-private. His head of security had actually done a double take at this information. Christian almost laughed. It was hard getting a reaction out of Taylor, but this had done it. Christian rarely dined in the open. Even business meetings were done in the cloak of privacy. Taylor was aware how much his boss valued discretion. Christian wasn't able to put into words exactly why he was opting for semi-private this evening. He hated anyone getting in his business, but if a few high society types, the types who dined at his club, managed to sneak a peek of him eating with Miss Steele, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

They'd fallen easily into conversation, talking about random things, just getting to know each other better. She'd shared with him her love for literature and her desire to be an editor. She'd been shocked to learn he'd dropped out of Harvard, just having assumed he'd graduated. Then she'd immediately shared how impressed she was, rather than judging him negatively, that he was able to build his company as he had without even finishing college. She'd asked about his company, and listened intently while he explained a basic version of what GEH did. She'd been legitimately captivated with his ability to fly a helicopter, sail a boat, and pilot a glider. He offered to take her on excursions to do all three and she'd excitedly accepted the invitation. She'd laughed, saying how boring her life must seem in comparison to his. He'd immediately disagreed, saying how he found her more than fascinating. She'd shrugged off the compliment with a blush and a shake of her head.

The food had come and gone, along with about an hour's worth of time that had felt like fleeting minutes to him. They'd long since finished up their main courses and were now indulging in expensive glasses of wine and easy tête-à-tête.

Ana had looked at her watch, shocked to see so much time has passed. "Oh my! It's getting so late! We've just been sitting her, holding the table. The staff must be livid that we're still here!"

Christian gave her an indulgent smile. "I don't think they mind. I own the place."

Her eyebrows popped up as she threw her hand out in fake exasperation. "Of course you own it. Of course you do," she said with the most endearing giggle before taking another sip of her wine. They smiled at each other lazily. "I had a good time tonight, Christian. This was all so wonderful—the food, the wine, the company. Thank you for everything," she said sincerely.

"You're welcome Ana," he replied with equal genuineness.

His smile faltered a little before he took a deep breath. "I've had such a nice time getting to know you better, I haven't even touched on the reason I invited you out tonight. I had some news I wanted to share with you that I thought you should and would want to be made aware of."

"Do tell," she smiled, her eyes lighting up in a playful manner as she leaned slightly into him, as if they were about to share some sordid secret.

"I have severed business ties with Elena. The paperwork was officially filed this morning," he said, waiting with baited breath for her reaction,

Her smile dropped, the playfulness gone from her eyes. She seemed to mull over the information. "Okay," she said slowly, nodding, before dropping her eyes to the table.

"Okay? That's it? Okay? I thought you'd be happy," his deep voice reverberated lowly as he leaned toward her. He wasn't angry, he was confused. This wasn't the reaction he'd expect after she so vehemently argued that he shouldn't be involved with Elena anymore.

She looked up, taking a slow sip of her wine, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "I am happy for you. It's good that you are extracting her from your life," she said.

"Then what's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Nothing Christian. It's good. Of course it's good. I just worried about—" she cut herself off, seeming uncomfortable with continuing her thought.

"Worried about what?" he urged.

She paused, then leaned forward, beseechingly. "You. I'm worried about you. I'm worried about what she'll do. She's had holds on your life you've never even considered. You seem so… oblivious to her manipulation. And she'd obviously gone to extreme efforts to make sure she still was involved in your life in some way. I just worry that she's not going to give up so easily, and I worry about what that means for you."

"You're worried about me?" he asked, sitting back, blindsided by her concern. She'd been so nice all this time. So accepting of him. That in itself had been hard for him to grasp. But genuine concern? For him, for his wellbeing? He was at a loss. He didn't know how to handle seeing those emotions directed at him form someone who wasn't a member of his family.

She gave an embarrassed half shrug as she too leaned back into her seat.

"Why?" he asked, shaking his head, feeling more and more dumbfounded. "I don't understand."

"You're a good man, Christian. Over and over, I've told you this. And what Elena did to you, it wasn't right. And the hold a pedophile can have on a child she's abused can last a lifetime. She had control of you for six years. Six years. She's dangerous. She's a predator. I just worry that you'll never be able to uncloud your judgement on her, and if she gets the chance to take advantage of you again, I worry she won't hesitate in taking it."

He leaned forward again, dropping his voice to a deep, soothing tone. "Don't worry about me, Ana. I can take care of myself. I fell for her tricks before, when I was young and still confused by all that she did to me. It was unwise of me to sweep it under the run all these years and never go back and question what she said back then, but it doesn't mean I would fall for her tricks now. She did manipulate me, you're right. But I'm a different man now. And I would never let her get close enough to me to try and spin her bullshit anyway. I'm telling you, I'm done with her."

"Okay," she nodded reluctantly. "If you say so, if you're sure."

"I'm sure," he assured. "Elena Lincoln will never have the chance to influence my life again."

The bubble of intensity in which they had found themselves was popped as a voice called out Christian's name. They both looked up to see Elliot coming toward them, Katherine on his arm, and his parents in tow.

Fuck.

Suddenly the idea of dining semi-private seemed careless. What was he thinking when he made that decision? The last thing he needed was to have to deal with his family finding him out in public having dinner with a woman. Worse, Katherine's best friend, and a woman they'd already been introduced to. He couldn't even lie and say she was a business associate. He wasn't ready to put the idea of having a friend out there to his family, not before he talked to Flynn. Not before he could even figure it out himself.

"Elliot, Katherine, Mom, Dad," he greeted them all with a firm nod as he attempted to discretely distance himself from Anastasia and the way he was leaning in toward her.

"Ana," Elliot smiled, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. "What are you doing here with my brother?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Kate was looking between the two like she'd just swallowed a bug. Grace looked like she has just been told she'd won the Nobel Peace Prize, and Carrick was the only one managing to keep a stoic expression at the sight of the two unlikely companions.

"We're just having a friendly dinner Elliot," Ana laughed off his implication before standing to shake hands with Grace and Carrick. "Mr. Grey, Dr. Trevelyan-Grey, it's so nice to see you again."

"Grace and Carrick, please dear," Grace insisted.

"Hi Kate," Ana acknowledged her friend, who was obviously trying to urgently have some sort of non-verbal communication with her. But for her part, Ana seemed to be purposefully ignoring Kate's obvious ploy for her attention.

"Would you two like to join us for dinner?" Grace asked, a hopeful glint in her eye.

"We actually already ate, Mother. We were just finishing up, right Anastasia?" Christian asked. And thank whatever powers may be that that was the truth. There was no way he wanted to get caught in the circle of looks and awkward questions that would be a sit down between the six of them.

Luckily Ana nodded along apologetically. "I'm afraid he's right. And I have an early morning tomorrow, so I really do need to get getting home," she said, smoothing her skirt down her thighs as she stood up.

"Oh," Grace said, clearly disappointed. "Well maybe you can join us for a family dinner on Sunday?"

Christian stood up as well, shooting his mother a look. Seriously? She was inviting her to a family dinner based solely off the idea that he had had dinner with her this evening?

"I'm not sure how my weekend looks right now, but I do appreciate you extending the offer. You have such a lovely family, I would be lucky to be invited to spend time with you all," she said graciously but noncommittally. Grace beamed a smile as her. His mother was like putty in her hands right now.

"Christian, would you like to join us?" Grace asked, the look in her eyes clear as day telling Christian she was dying to as him some questions.

He couldn't be more grateful that he'd been Ana's ride, and therefore had a truthful reason to say no. "I have to give Anastasia a ride home," he said, unable to hide the happy tone in his voice that he couldn't stay, causing Elliot to let out a chuckle. Carrick smirked. It seemed his whole little family could also tell Grace had ulterior motives to having her son join them.

"Of course," Grace plastered on a smile.

Carrick stepped in to finally put an end to this whole thing. "Good night, son, Ana," he said shaking Christian's hand, then Ana's again.

"Yes, goodnight," Grace said, leaning forward to kiss her son on the cheek. "Please remind Ana about Sunday and let us know if she'll be able to make it to dinner. It was nice to see you both. Have a safe trip home," she said. Then she stepped forward and pulled Ana into an unexpected hug.

"Yeah," Elliot said, only sort of discretely pulling out his wallet and handing Christian a condom. "Be safe, little brother."

Christian glared at his brother, shoving the condom into his brother's hand quickly, looking up in time to see Ana staring at their hands and blushing. Fucking Elliot.

Kate saw it too, but she was too focused on Ana to bother reacting to Elliot. She pulled her friend into a hug and whispered, "Try to stay awake. I'll be home tonight. Seems we have some catching up to do," she said, her voice almost warning.

Ana just sighed, bid the group goodbye, and let Christian lead her out of the restaurant.

Christian sat on the couch in Flynn's office staring intently at the man with whom he'd shared all of the sordid details of his past. But for once, this wasn't about his past. This wasn't about overcoming what had happened to him when he was four, or fifteen, or even twenty-two. This was about his present. This was about gaining some clarity about normal human relationships. And he was all ears. He'd been eager for this session since he'd first considered the idea of Anastasia and he being friends.

After recounting the events of the latest times he'd shared with Ana, the ones he didn't spend spewing hateful words at her, Christian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, like he was in great anticipation of Flynn's analysis. "I have no frame of reference here. Is that friendship? That kind of… connection? Concern for one another? Caring about her day? Being interested in what's happening in her mind, in her world? Does that sound like the things at friendship entails? Could we be friends?"

A short silence followed as Flynn jotted down some quick notes. He didn't make eye contact as he casually asked his next question. "Do you think she could she be more than a friend?"

Christian narrowed his eyes at him. He couldn't possibly be asking what Christian thought he was asking. After all the countless hours Christian has spent in this office with this man discussing the things they had, Christian knew he could not be asking about more. Flynn looked up to see Christian's look in incredulity and decided to change tack.

"Are you attracted to her?"

"No," he scowled immediately, knowing now that 'more' was exactly where Flynn was going with this. But it was ludicrous. Absolutely preposterous. His interest in her was purely platonic. There was intrigue about her story, her personality, her. But it was all innocent. It was all just benign curiosity.

"I'm just talking purely physically here, Christian. I'm not asking if you're in love with her. I'm not even asking about emotions. I'm just asking, if you didn't know her and saw her walking down the street, would you be attracted to her?"

"No," he spat again, firmly.

"Are you sure?" he pushed, "She's obviously your type. After all, that was why Elena chose her, correct? She epitomized what you desired physically. Not only that, she was the first woman you'd ever had who embodied all those traits you'd found carnally pleasing. It makes sense that you would be attracted to her."

"I'm am not. attracted. to. her," he said through gritted teeth.

"Were you not attracted to her when Elena first introduced you?"

Christian glared at him, not answering. But John just sat still, looking at him, waiting for his answer.

"I was," he croaked quickly, "But she was sixteen. It was wrong to be attracted to someone so young."

"Ignoring the fact that you didn't know she was so young, and have spent years stewing in the guilt over finding someone so young sexually attractive," John said, making sure to note it aloud for Christian's sake. It always seemed to help pull him from the ledge when John acknowledged that Christian regretted his behavior. He was still so ashamed of it, like the guilt was always gnawing at him. "It's not wrong for you to be attracted to her now. She is no longer sixteen Christian. She is a grown woman now."

"Not to me," Christian said quickly. "In my mind's eye she is still that sixteen year old girl with tears streaking down her horrified face. That's who she will always be to me," he said, hanging his head and running his fingers through his hair.

John paused, letting the silence set in before he spoke again. "Then to answer your question, no, I don't think you and she can be friends," he said firmly.

Christian's head shot up, her face full of confusion. "We can't?"

"No. Without talking to her, just from your version, Anastasia seems to accept you for who you are. However, you do not accept her for who she is. You still picture her and treat her like the innocent sixteen year old she was when you met her. But from all you've told me, she seems to have grown into a strong, impressive young woman. If you can't move past what she was and see her for what she is, then no, you can't build a real friendship with her."

He felt a pang of- what? Disappointment? He found himself enjoying the back and forth he was having with Anastasia. If that was friendship, he was kind of pleased with the idea of finally having a friend.

Immediately he scowled, chastising himself for being disappointed over something so stupid. He didn't need friends. Least of all, a friendship with her. How fucked up would he be to have his first real friend be the girl from who he recklessly stole her virginity. It was asinine.

Flynn watched Christian internally react to his statement. Emotions. That's exactly what he wanted to incite in his client. This was a rare occurrence for him to be able to try and convince Christian that he was more than he gave himself credit for. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't heartless. He was a living, breathing, feeling human being just like the billions of other people walking this planet. Only, he kept himself isolated so he didn't have to deal with the emotions the rest of the world did. If he would just open himself up to one person, he would soon realize everything he believed about himself was untrue.

But getting him to do that was like pulling teeth. Getting him to admit he could feel toward anyone outside of his family had been a battle since the first day the young man had strode into his office and plopped down on the couch with a scowl. This was the first time he'd come to John with emotions. This was the first time he'd truly seemed to want to be told he could do this 'normal' thing. But if John didn't nip it in the bud right now that how Christian viewed Anastasia was wrong, then he would never be able to do it. If Christian wanted a friendship, or as John suspected, possibly more, from Anastasia, he would need to learn that who Ana was and who she is now were not the same people.

He didn't find her attractive. He couldn't. It was sick. Sure, technically, physically she was the personification of his desires. But he wasn't actually attracted to her. Flynn had really crossed a line today. At least Christian has set him straight over it. He'd given him a piece of his mind before bailing early on the session. He'd gotten the answer he'd been seeking anyway. He felt a hint of disappointment deep inside at the idea that a friendship would never be a possibility for them, but at the same time, it was sort of a relief. Relationships with people complicated things. He didn't need that in his life. There has been something reassuring about the idea of a friendship with her, but he would do just as well without. He had his whole life, after all.

Groaning, Christian sunk down into his bed, ready to attempt some sleep. He was hoping for a decent night of it. He'd been running on nearly empty this last week.

He closed his eyes, trying to dismiss all of his thoughts in order to let sleep come more easily. And slowly he drifted away…

Everything was black, but then suddenly she was there. He knew because he felt her. He turned to see her standing in his kitchen, her long, bare legs drawing up underneath his Harvard shirt. In a flash they were at the park, her skin tight running pants clinging to her ass, her hair pulled back in a braid, away from flushed face, neck and chest, which were glistening with sweat born from physical exertion. Another flash. She was standing in his playroom, gingerly running her fingertips over his floggers, his canes, his couch, his bed. Then she was on his living room couch, releasing a moan while he gently dug his fingers into the muscles of her neck and shoulders.

Suddenly all the images swirled together and there she was- flushed, sweating, panting, in his playroom with her hair braided. But she was on her knees, waiting for him like she had been when he'd entered Elena's dungeon when she was only sixteen. Only now he saw her face with no blindfold, no gag. It wasn't the face of sixteen year old Anastasia. But instead it was the matured face of Ana.

Christian jolted awake. He was in his bed. He glanced at the clock, realized he hadn't even been asleep for an hour. What had woken him? Not a nightmare. He wasn't panicked like he normally was following a nightmare. Though, his heart was racing. And… oh. He was hard. Rock hard. Pulsating. Fuck. He needed to get laid. But that wasn't happening tonight, and this particular erection wasn't willing to be ignored. Resting his head back on his pillow, he wrapped his hand around his length, tightening it, then slowly stroking it. It wasn't usual for him to wake up in the middle of the night in this state. Morning wood, sure. Not hard as granite and aching in the dead of night after very little sleep.

His strokes got faster. No need to prolong the inevitable. Not that this time would take long anyway. His hips jerked, his hand picking up speed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His eyes slid closed. His mind drifted. Then without warning, the dream came tumbling back to him. Legs. Flushed skin. Sweat. Red. A flogger. His playroom bed. A moan. Ana. On her knees.

With a deep, pained groan, Christian jerked his hand up and spilled his seed all over his abdomen. Fuck!

"Oh God," he groaned. "Shit. Fuck!"

It was like a cannon ball to the gut. He'd dreamt about her. He'd jerked off to thoughts of her. No, he thought immediately. He was about to come anyway. It was coincidental that he actually came at the exact moment that the dream resurfaced in his mind. He only came because he was already too far to stop. It wasn't the images of her that made him finish. He took in a deep breath, let it out. Twice. A third time. No. He was fine. This was just Flynn getting in his head.

He reached down next to his bed, grabbing the t-shirt he'd stripped off before climbing into bed, and used it to wipe himself clean. He tossed it back to the floor before lying back on the bed. He tugged his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. As soon as his lids slid shut, the visions from his dream assaulted him once again. He snapped his eyes open, then rubbed them roughly with the palms of his hands.

Fuck.