If it weren't for the liberty of singing whenever she so pleased, days like today would be one of the luxuries that Maria would miss most when her postulancy was complete. Perhaps it was something in their surroundings, the Salzburg town bustling in a late summer flurry. Or it could have been the weather, a dusty humidity coupled with a tickling heat. But, Maria repeated to herself as the nine of them turned a corner, it certainly, most definitely, could not be her company.

The idea for their outing had begun like any other, partly out of Maria's own penchant for adventure and partly out of the children's unrest being amplified by thoughts of summer's end. As was customary, Maria asked if the Captain would like to join them, wholly expecting his firm denial. We aren't all afforded stations that allow us to gallivant around town all day, Fräulein! he would tease, and she would roll her eyes at him with a chuckle, relieved that she would not be under that eye of his all day, lest she… no.

But today when she had asked, a little out of breath from having climbed the pantry to secure the picnic basket from the top shelf, she was not met with mockery. Instead, he had glanced at the children clad in their day clothes and Maria's own frock, a form fitting olive-green bodice that clung to the rise and fall of her chest as she fought to slow her beating heart - the basket hadn't been that high! – before finally asking if they would be patient enough to wait for him to change out of his own attire before they went out.

And so out they went, all together. Following their conversation lakeside and within the private walls of the villa, the Captain now often joined his children and their governess in their lessons, games, and singing. However, in regards to the public, he had not strayed from his dedication to his family's privacy in an effort to quell the whispers that sought to fill in the blanks left by his looming reputation.

It's just unusual, that's all. Look how everyone you pass stares at him. You too have the right to be surprised. This was how Maria was to justify her quivering nerves that day.

After time spent jesting along the town's terraces and nine scoops of ice cream (she had blushed unwillingly when both her and the Captain had ordered mint chocolate chip), their happy wandering had finally brought them among the throng of marketplace stalls. The children wished to pick out some ingredients for Cook to add to dinner that evening, and as was customary for a family of seven children, no one was agreeing upon anything.

"Oh yes, berries for dessert!" Kurt cried as he ran up to a stall with a freshly picked assortment.

"Yes, but which berries, Kurt." Brigitta rolled her eyes at her brother's characteristic enthusiasm in the sight of anything edible.

"Father, why is caviar reserved only for special occasions?" Liesl wondered of her father, who was trailing several steps behind with Friedrich, holding the basket for them.

"Hm, Liesl?" The Captain paused his teasing of his eldest son, who was pretending he had no interest in things such as cooking, to look up at his first child. "Ah, well, darling, one day when you marry a very rich man, then you can decide when and how often you have caviar!"

Thinking his retort was clever, his expression quickly turned to one of regret when he saw the adolescent girl turn excitedly to her governess at her father's mention of boys and marriage for her. Up ahead, Maria laughed quietly at their exchange, but gathered herself quickly enough to meet Liesl's surprised, eager eyes with a curt shake of the head and a believable sternness.

Thank you, the Captain mouthed at her silently, a sheepish, grateful grin on his face. Maria responded with a raised eyebrow, knowing he would understand her implied response – You owe me! She would have to remember to press him once more about purchasing snorkels for the children's lake swims after supper that evening…

It was astonishing to Maria how much had changed in a few short months. The Captain she had first met in the ballroom would never have breathed a joke around her, nor looked at her as someone to aid him in his interactions with his children. But as Maria watched him accept a vibrant orange from Marta, being the perfect picture not of a naval commander, but a connoisseur of citrus or an exceptionally hungry dinner guest, she could only ascertain that this really wasn't the same man.

You see. He will be fine.

There it was. Years of stubbornness could not be outdone by a single misguided first impression of the Captain, and the voice inside Maria's head recently was to be certain of it. This logical one, which bore an awful similarity to Sister Berthe, had been desperately urging her to hold fast to her original plans despite the Baroness' abrupt departure: to stay with the von Trapps only until arrangements for a new governess could be made. To go ahead and live a quiet, secluded life devoted to God. To treat the Captain as her employer, as the children's father, as head of the household and nothing more.

Somehow, in between pondering her plans for her life and trying to decipher God's will for her, this last task was still the most troublesome to see to.

Maria tried to focus on readjusting the bouquet of flowers that the children had deemed fit for Frau Schmidt in one arm and the never-ending fruits and veggies they placed in the other. This was not the place for yet another attempt at making sense of her disarray of feelings. It was a short-lived distraction though, shattered when she heard the Captain's voice behind her ear, much closer than where he had been before.

"Fräulein, let me help with that." Sure enough, he had caught up to her while she had been wrestling with her own confusion, his tall figure falling in line with her own. She noticed that he had changed into a lighter suit for the day, which made his eyes appear like the surface of water at daybreak.

"Oh, no, Captain, I'm quite alright." She forced herself to smile breezily at him, hugging the flowers a little closer to her chest protectively. He was likely just trying to make up for her swift assist in saving him from Liesl.

"Please, I insist." Instead of reaching for the load in her arms, he shifted the basket he held to his other side and reached out a free hand to touch her elbow gently, coaxing her to release the cocoon her arm created and let some of the fruit fall into the basket.

Maria froze, her body visibly tensing. In turn, the Captain seemed to realize what he had done, his bare fingers grazing just below the edge of her cream sleeve with no glove to prevent the heat of his touch from permeating the bare skin they found there.

While her body remained unmoving, unsure of what to do, Maria's mind began firing furiously with frustration. What sort of postulant found themselves in situations like these? How was it even possible, what with being surrounded by seven of his own children, not to mention at least half a dozen shopkeepers, and the whole town of Salz-

"Georg!"

A clear, feminine voice cutting through the square brought Maria's inner dialogue to a sudden, abrupt halt. Had she heard that right? The Captain's hand dropped and nine heads turned immediately to try and identify the caller, their curiosity thankfully breaking the very palpable, very public tension that had erupted between Captain and governess not moments ago.

"Marianne?" It was the Captain who paired the voice to a name first. The children craned their heads instantly to try and spot whoever this Marianne was, and by the time the woman arrived in front of the group, their questions were painted on their wide eyes and wondering expressions. Most approached their father with the well-earned formality and apprehensiveness that his prestige demanded, but here was someone other than their governess who ignored the both.

"Georg!" The woman who the Captain had called Marianne arrived in front of them with a breathless flourish. She wore a burgundy dress that Maria thought would be too stuffy for the weather and a cream hat against dark curls. Mischievous green eyes smiled into the Captain's expectantly.

"I knew it was you the instant I saw you, even from across the square!" She gestured absentmindedly in the direction from which she had come. "I couldn't quite believe my own eyes, but here you are!" she sighed with an air of finality, dropping her arms and smiling once more at him decidedly.

The children's expressions grew even wider as they watched their father lean forwards and place a kiss on Marianne's cheek. "Here I am," he chuckled upon pulling back to a respectable distance. "What ever are you doing here?"

Marianne laughed, a carefree sound that wasn't disruptive, but that also held no inhibition. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? Georg, you are not the only inhabitant of this town!"

The Captain met her joy more openly this time with his own laughter. "Yes, well, it is tempting to keep such a hidden treasure selfishly for my own enjoyment." To the children's ever-dropping jaws, he winked knowingly at Marianne.

Watching this small gesture, Maria felt her stomach flutter involuntarily, rather similar to the manner in which it did when she finally saw the view of the alps after arriving at the crest of a hill. It had been happening more frequently than she cared to admit. For that moment, Maria decided it was simply because the Captain looked visibly reassured that this was evidently an old acquaintance of his and not another member of polite society wishing to ask him about his position on Berlin. Thankfully, Maria's reaction remained unseen as she tuned back into the conversation continuing easily around her.

"However, the last I heard from your brother is that the whole of Austria was not enough for worldly little you," the Captain was teasing. "Was it la belle Paris then this time?"

"Mais oui, bien sûr," Marianne smirked her lips coquettishly in response. "Wherever else could I have learned what my brothers refuse to teach me?"

At this, the Captain seemed to remember his company, and he quickly placed a proud hand on Kurt's boyish shoulders, gesturing to the rest of his family with the other. "Marianne, pardon me, I don't believe you have met my family. Children, Marianne's eldest brother is a dear friend of mine from the Navy. Marianne, this is Liesl, Gretl, Marta… Louisa, Brigitta… and here are Kurt and Friedrich… and yes, this is my… governess… Fräulein Maria." He did not look Maria's way.

Marianne smiled the same wide, perfectly even smile at all of them, unphased by the lengthiness of the introduction, the number of children, or the particular pause in the Captain's presentation of his party towards its end. "Such a pleasure! How do you all do?"

Kurt and Friedrich bowed their heads formally in their best hopes of impressing their father and the girls all gave a little curtsy. Maria did her best to smile at Marianne, but her attention had stalled once more at the Captain's words despite her many efforts to not hang on each of them whenever he spoke to (or of) her.

"This is my… governess…"

For what reason did the Captain's tone suggest uncertainty in calling her his governess?

For no reason! the Sister Berthe voice screamed. That is precisely what you are! The children's governess! And nothing more!

But what if… And here it was, the quieter, yet equally menacing voice. The voice Maria preferred if she could be honest.

Where did this foolish harboured hope come from, Maria wondered. Surely not from the years she had spent in the convent, preparing to turn away from all temptation. But subconsciously, Maria knew. It came from the same place that Maria's reaction to Marianne was unfurling from, from a hollow within her that she hadn't known existed and didn't quite know how to fill.

When Maria had met the Baroness partway through the summer, she had immediately placed the elegant widow in a calibre completely separate from herself, protecting her pride from the way her toes were now curling in her dusty shoes in response to Marianne. But while this young friend of the Captain appeared to have the same undeniable beauty as the Baroness, this was not what rattled Maria. It was neither Marianne's smart style nor experienced travels either.

"So then, what was it in Paris that so far exceeded your very homeland here?" the Captain pressed devilishly. "Perhaps a certain gentleman?"

Maria watched Marianne duck her head, either in feigned or honest shyness, then flash her eyes back to the Captain in an equally playful expression, as if asking him if he truly wanted her response. The Captain wiggled his eyebrows at her, daring her to either confirm or deny. And it was here that Maria recognized it with a hot shame.

Maria had never seen the Captain speak as playfully with the Baroness as he was with Marianne. She only knew this side of the naval hero existed prior to watching this interaction because it was the same rapport that arose between the two of them on the rare occasion they found themselves alone. It was most often when the air was just beginning to cool on the terrace, the children had gone to bed, and Max was searching for more liquor inside the house. There she would witness this side of the Captain that she had foolishly, pridefully, let herself believe was maybe a product of her presence.

But here the Captain was, tan in the sunlight and strong with the presence of his family around him, smiling down at worldly Marianne with a familiarity that he did not have with Maria even when pretense was forgotten and delicious quips exchanged between the two of them.

Marianne waved a hand noncommittally, rolling her eyes and leaving Maria wondering – praying – that she had looked just as devastating behind dark lashes for all the times she had rolled her eyes at the Captain. "Why no, Georg, despite the gentlemen you might call suitors, they were evidently not enough to keep me in Paris. But perhaps," she mused, focussing her emerald gaze back on him "With your help, I will have better luck back here in Salzburg?"

In that same hollowness, Maria felt something drop to the depths unknown.

Silly, silly girl.

So the Captain had admirers. So the Captain kept company that was not her, or Herr Detweiler, or even the Baroness. For a man of his rank, for a man of his experience, for a man of his – her heightened awareness of the situation at hand emboldened her to admit this even just to herself – appearance, this was not the least bit unexpected. But then what explained the cold snap of air that seemed to rush straight through her?

No. These were not revelations, but rather what she had known all along, regardless of her small lapses along the way. That she was not in fact in any way special to the Captain. Instead of letting herself foolishly mourn, she would use this new example in the form of Marianne to reaffirm what her voice of reason had insisted of her. To truly believe that this was not a reroute, but rather a short detour on her path towards taking her vows, and that she could very simply leave and not look back at the end of the summer.

However, before her resolve could harden, before she could even steel her shoulders, the Captain looked Maria's way.

You see. Maria could no longer tell which private voice of hers this came from.

It was a quick glance, one he gave the children from the terrace when they were playing by the lake or to Liesl when the young university men on their own summer vacations walked by. One that assessed the situation, that sought to be reassured of one thing or another. That communicated volumes as much as it gathered intelligence.

And maybe for a moment, Maria also thought she saw a warmth in Georg's eyes, a blue that was not too many shades away from her own.

He looked away as quickly as he had turned, but when his attention returned to Marianne with an unwavering smile, he had a renewed sense of purpose to his response. "I do hope that's true for you, Marianne. Unfortunately, I would be of little help in the matter considering I have not been in your position for quite some time. As a matter of fact, I've been quite enjoying my company at home as of recent."

Company.

"Do let your brother know that we passed by one another today, will you?"

In her shock, Maria did not catch Marianne's response. She could tell that the young woman was momentarily confused as to why the Captain would turn down her insinuated offer when his only company at home were seven children, but she did not strike Maria as the type to dwell on any matter for very long. Maria was absentminded as the group wished Marianne farewell and she continued off in the direction from which she had originally come.

When Gretl handed Maria yet another apple, she welcomed the opportunity to busy herself once more in pretending to examine the smooth red polish, wiping off some dirt with the skirt of her dress. But when she dared look back up again to pass the apple back to Gretl, the Captain was looking in her direction a second time, this time meaning to catch her line of vision.

Maria did not get a wink from the Captain, and only dared dream of his lips brushing anywhere near where he had chastely kissed Marianne. Maria's family had not shared a naval tradition with his like Marianne's had, and she had only known Georg for a very short amount of time, most of which she spent with the children, removed even from the adults and the world of elegance that the Captain inhabited. In these ways, Maria knew she lacked what women like the Baroness or Marianne could give him.

But still, Georg smiled at Maria in the sunshine of the square, almost shyly. The children did not notice, still digesting Marianne's arrival and departure, but Maria did – she noticed it with an intake of breath, an uneven beat of her chest, and the hollowness suddenly feeling a little less forlorn, just from the curvature of his lips. One clear voice, the one that held fast to these small secret moments passed between them, triumphed for now.

Company. She could be his company. She couldn't bear not to be.

And as she finally handed the apple back to Gretl for her to shuttle to what was now a very full looking basket, Maria realized they could have soup made from the lake water or a stew of spiders that Louisa caught for supper, and she would still feel full from this day.