Hello! I'm sorry this took so long to update. After the last chapter I decided to take this story in a slighty different direction than what I'd orginally planned, so there was unexpected planning and rewriting that had to happen.

I also know many of you were confused about the 'it's not up to me' line in the last chapter. Clearly I wanted to follow the song a little too much. I hope the last section clears that up a little.

I hope you enjoy. Happy 55th anniversary TSOM. Have a great day

Georg rubbed his face as he headed out the villa's front door and walked towards the garage. He had not slept well, and was just feeling rather groggy in general.

Last night had been hell. First he'd had to endure all the forced and shallow interactions of such a party – Elsa being the hostess made it that much worse. Then, when he finally had a moment to himself, he'd walked into the foyer to find Maria all but walking out the door. Even after she'd explained everything, even after he had followed her, she'd still left him.

He had returned to the party numb, and escaped as soon as possible; but that had still been at least an hour later. It was a wonder he managed to stumble into bed without opening the liquor cabinet

Maybe he would've slept if he had though…

He brushed the thought aside. Reliving last night would get him nowhere; he had learned that much this summer.

Besides, he'd have to face the children sooner or later, and it would be better for everyone if he was cool and collected, or at least appeared that way, when he did so, even if that came at the cost of delivering the news slightly later.

He hoped he would be able to compose himself while he was out this morning.

He had made this appointment a fortnight ago. Long before he could possibly know what would happen at the party.

It was dreadfully important, but right now, the current state of the funds he'd set aside for when this damned war truly began was the last thing on his mind.

He considered turning back and telephoning the Abbey, to make sure she had arrived safely. But he was running late because he'd been agonising over everything that had happened last night. The Abbey was very close to the broker's office anyway. Calling on them in person might be even better than a telephone call.

And hadn't Maria said he could do that anyway?

As he passed the bus stop, he saw a figure lying down on the bench, asleep. One look and he knew it was her. She was snoring softly, wearing the dress she'd arrived in, that hideous leather hat functioning as a pillow.

She had been there all night.

He put the car into park and exited, quickly crossing the street and standing next to the bench. He relaxed upon seeing that she didn't seem to be in any immediate trouble.

"Maria," he whispered. "Are you alright?"

She stirred, but did not wake. He whispered again.

"Captain?" she blinked, surprised. She sat up. "What are you doing here?"

"I was – I was…"

What should he tell her? He hadn't gone out looking for her. But he had most certainly planned on making sure she was okay. What would she want to hear?

What would make her want to stay?

"Captain?" she asked again.

"I was looking for you."

Even if it wasn't his main reason for heading into Salzburg, he knew it really was. Having to see the broker was a convenient excuse to go look for Maria, even if only his subconscious had realised.

She hadn't moved since he arrived, outside of sitting up. That's when Georg noticed her leg. Through the big heavy boot she was wearing, something about her foot looked...off.

"Maria, are you alright?"

"Yes sir," she could clearly tell he had noticed her foot. "It's nothing I haven't been through before."

Those words broke Georg's heart. He had a strong feeling she wasn't talking about accidents and scrapes that she had gotten herself into.

"I'm sure a bus will be along soon," she added. "I will be fine."

"What if the next bus doesn't come for hours," Georg argued.

"Then I'll walk."

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied. "What if it rains?"

"I don't think it will," she answered.

The sky was bright blue, but the weather could change so quickly in Salzburg. But, even if it didn't rain, there were many other factors that could make Maria's impossibly foolish attempt to leave him hard or dangerous.

"You can't walk like that, Maria," he said firmly. "You've hurt your ankle."

"Well then Captain," Maria folded her hands across her chest and looked at him firmly. "What do you suggest I do?"

'Let me take you home, where I can look after you and make sure you never leave us again' he thought.

"I have a feeling you didn't really want to go," he said, knowing he was avoiding answering her question. "Did you?"

"Of course I did," she retorted, though she had paused for just a moment. "I just hurt my ankle, so walking in the dark would've been too dangerous."

"I see," he nodded. "And walking during the daytime won't cause any problems, even though your ankle will still be hurt?"

"I've done it before," she snapped.

"Well you're not doing it again," he said firmly.

Maria said nothing. Georg knew she wanted to object; after last night she was more determined than ever to do things on her own. But he also knew that deep down, she wanted someone to help her through this situation.

He helped her stand up, and took the carpetbag from her. She insisted on keeping the guitar case. He put his free arm around her shoulder, and slowly helped her walk, taking great care to reduce the amount of pain on her leg.

He'd telephone the broker's office once he got back to the villa and made sure Maria was alright.

Georg wanted to enter the villa surreptitiously, perhaps by one of the side entrances so, with the possibility of running into anybody being lower, Maria could feel as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately, he knew it would be too hard for her with her ankle, so they had no choice other than to enter through the front door and face Franz.

Not that the butler gave any indication that he found the situation unusual; he was as stone-faced as always as he walked off to find Frau Schmidt at Georg's command.

Georg helped Maria into his private bathroom. He thought it would be the best place to examine her ankle because of both the convenience and privacy it afforded them.

"Captain?" Maria asked. "What are we doing here?"

He opened the first aid kit Frau Schmidt had brought them as they made their way upstairs. Just like the butler she hadn't commented on the fact that her employer was leading his governess to his private rooms.

"Let me see your ankle," Georg said by way of an answer as he helped her sit down on a small bench beside the sink.

She hesitated for a moment, and gave a tiny sob before nodding.

"I'll do my best to make sure this doesn't hurt any more than it needs to," he told her. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

"W-why are you doing this?" she asked. "Don't you have things you need to do? Surely Frau Schmidt or one of the maids could take care of this."

"I'm sure they have other things to do," he said gently, if somewhat absently. "I do not."

He lifted her leg, but then lowered it almost immediately. He couldn't feel anything, which was exactly the problem. He already knew he wasn't going to be able to remove her boot so simply.

"I'm going to have to cut your boot," he said. "Your foot's too swollen for me to take it off."

He tried not to think too much about the implications. Maria didn't appear to be in extreme pain; but she was the strongest woman Georg had ever met. She was also, however, the most stubborn. And she had already told him that she had been in situations like this before.

The injury could be so much worse than it seemed.

"Okay," she nodded.

"You're going to have to sit very still."

He turned and retrieved a pair of scissors, then lifted her skirt as high as he dared to reach the top of her boot.

The material of the boot was tough, and it took a moment for the scissors to start cutting through it; but once that had happened, it was easier to continue.

Georg didn't look up at her; not wanting to risk getting distracted and making a mistake. It was hard enough that her entire calf was visible. That alone was making it difficult to concentrate.

She had beautiful legs. He'd noticed that the day he argued with her by the lake while she was dripping wet. He'd noticed the night of the puppet show. He'd noticed last night as they'd danced.

And the more he peeled the boot away, he noticed.

Finally it was off. Maria hissed when he took her foot in his hand. He hated see her in pain, especially knowing he was the cause of it, but now being able to feel her ankle, his worries had lessened.

"It's not broken," he said. "I'll get some ice for you, and I'll call the doctor later, so we can figure out exactly what to do, but for now, you should just stay off it."

"Yes sir," she said confidently, almost smiling. Then her voice turned soft.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Half an hour later they were both sitting in the Captain's study. Maria was sitting on the sofa so she could rest her leg, as the Captain had insisted. But her ankle wasn't the main reason for her discomfort.

"Maria," his voice was soft, like her was worried she would run away again if he scared her in even the slightest way. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about sir," she said.

"Of course there is," he replied. "You were so scared you decided the only thing you could do was run away in the middle of the night, without a word to anybody."

Maria sighed. She knew her actions had been somewhat rash, but what was she supposed to have done? She couldn't stay in the villa, around the man she loved, when he was never going to love her back.

"The way I left was wrong," she admitted softly. "But, you said it yourself. You said 'she's wrong'."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I told you the Baroness had said you would 'get over me', you said she was wrong," she repeated. "You don't love me. You don't need to get over me, because you didn't love me to begin with."

The Captain looked shocked, and when he spoke, he was stammering: "Maria, I – that's not what I meant. I –"

"I did everything I could," she sobbed. "It wasn't enough."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You danced with me last night, not because you care about me, but because you think I'm young and pretty, and want to… you want me in…"

She couldn't even say it. It was too disgusting. The fact that he had been so kind and gentle with her earlier as he was tending to her ankle made it so much worse.

For a moment, she had forgotten the truth.

The Captain was right about one thing. She was worth more. Maybe her life wasn't meant to go anywhere outside of the Abbey and the mountains and simplicity, but that didn't mean people could treat her like dirt.

She deserved to be treated well. She deserved to be taken seriously. If nothing else, her conversation with the Captain last night had helped her realise that.

"I can't change how you think of me," she said firmly. "Not without betraying who I am. And I won't do that."

'It's not up to me' she thought once again. If they weren't going to take her seriously, they should just leave her alone.

"Maria," he asked. "Do you truly believe that?"

She was silent for a long time. What did she believe? If he'd asked her this question yesterday, she would've said 'no' in a heartbeat. The Reverend Mother would not have sent her here for the summer if she believed she could possibly be in danger. The Captain was an honourable man.

Part of her still did believe that. A big part. But…

"The Baroness…"

"Forget what Elsa said," he snapped. Her eyes widened for a moment. Seemingly realising he had scared her, he sighed. "I'm sorry Maria. Just tell me, do you truly believe me to be the type of man who would take a woman to bed just for myself; without any thought for her?"

Maria wanted to fight back; point out that he was a Navy man; a man in a society where mistresses were all but the norm. She wanted to use anything she could to try and prove the Baroness was right. It would hurt, but it would make more sense than the notion that the great Captain von Trapp wanted to be with her.

But she couldn't.

"No," she whispered.

"No?" he quirked an eyebrow. "Then, why did what she say scare you so much?"

She had to tell him. He'd been nothing but kind to her since they'd first met. Even that first day, where he was so stern and standoffish, he hadn't been cruel. Not even to the children.

She had to tell him. She owed him that much.

"It's stupid, I know," she sobbed. "But I – I love you."

He was quiet for so long that Maria wondered if he'd heard her at all.

But in the end, he didn't speak; his actions were his answer. He walked across the room, and knelt down in front of her and his face was so close to hers and then…

And then he was kissing her.

Ever since the night of the puppet show, Maria had been dreaming about what it would be like to kiss the Captain. Each time she had awoken either scared, or guilt-ridden, or both, and usually dropped immediately to her knees to recite Hail Marys and ask for forgiveness. But now, she felt none of those feelings. Now she simply felt happy.

Maria had never been kissed, and as soon as she'd decided to join a convent, she'd given up on it. She had never even tried to imagine what it might be like. She didn't know if this was what kisses were supposed to feel like; if they were supposed to make you feel like this. But she didn't care.

Because whatever this was, it was wonderful.

When they broke apart the Captain lifted his hand to cup her cheek in his palm, smiling as he did so. "Maria," he whispered gently; her name almost a prayer. "Elsa's wrong because I am in love with you. I know I'm in love with you."

Maria was wonderstruck. She had to be dreaming. Captain von Trapp couldn't want her, wouldn't want her, and yet… he must.

She'd been determined to leave, despite her feelings, and he'd chased after her. He'd found her injured and had taken care of her. And now, he'd kissed her.

Maria finally found the courage to say what she hadn't been able to last night: "You are the best thing about this place."

The Captain smiled at her. He loved her.

"Please Maria," he whispered. "Don't leave me."

"I won't," she promised.