Author's note: Thank you, for the kind response to A Grey Christmas (my first FSoG fic not named after a paint shade). I'm blessed that the pandemic has not yet taken a loved one, but it has separated me from them this season, and I was feeling that loss, so thought you might be too.

Kiss the Rain is by Yiruma.

Thank you.

Chapter Four

I'm at the piano, playing mournful tunes while trying to remember anything good I've ever done, when I sense Ana behind me, just before she asks, "What's this called?"

Unsure where I currently stand with her, I keep playing, and reveal, "Kiss the Rain."

"It sounds so sad."

I prove why, by singing the chorus. When I'm done, her hands alight on my shoulders. There is no pain, but I can't concentrate while she's touching me, so rest my hands on my knees, and she tenderly accuses, "That was beautiful, Christian, but a little melodramatic. I told you that I just needed time to think."

Even with this reminder of why we haven't spoken since she got home, I can't stop myself from nagging, "Did you eat?"

"Yes, darling. Did you?"

"I wasn't hungry. Are we okay?"

Her chin rests on my head, and her hands slide forward, so I clasp them in mine—an instinctive move to protect my chest—and she says, "Of course. We're just still finding each other's limits."

I kiss each of her hands in turn, and point out, "One of your limits appears to be my presence." It sounds petulant, but I'll probably never get brave enough to tell her how much it hurts when she pushes me away, so it'll have to do.

Ana pulls her hands from my grasp, to hug me around the top of my chest, saying, "Hey, that's not true. I just had a crappy day, because the ripples from you buying UPP meant I spent most of the day in meetings, or on the phone...or explaining my Sawyer-shaped shadow. Plus, I can't think straight when I'm near you. And, before it happens again, how big is our jet?"

Hoping that I've understood, I ask, "You want me to come to New York with you?"

"Well, not to the symposium. But, yeah, if you're free."

I'm mentally checking my diary, for possible clashes, when I realize that I don't give a fuck. "I can do that."

"In return, I want you to leave the company name as is, at least until after we're married."

Finally daring to hope that all is well between us, I seem to take my first real breath all evening, and vow, "I can do that too."

"And, right now, I think a session in the red room will fix anything else between us."

My cock stirs just at the thought of it, but tonight was the second time Ana has used a safeword outside of play. I need to know it won't happen again. "You worked out what I meant, by the 'eye-candy' comment?"

Ana kisses my temple, and says, "Yes. Any failure or success in my job will be mine alone. That's what you mean when you say you won't meddle in my career."

"Yes. And I need to get better at checking with you before unleashing Hurricane Christian."

Her laughter is my salvation, and then she says, "That would be good. I know it'll take a while. You've spent most of your adult life having everyone around you instantly obey your commands."

I finally smile, and remind her, "Except Mia, who never obeys anyone's commands."

"Oh, she's staying at Kate's apartment for a few days."

"What?"

Apparently sensing my distress, Ana releases me, saying, "Uh, she just needed a time-out from Grace and Carrick. Why do you sound scared?"

"I'm not, very. Just...you said Mia's tune reminded you of a butterfly. But I see her more like a moth, erratically careening from one bright light to the next. It always scares me when she does something unpredictable, and she's hardly ever predictable."

"So I'm learning. But you know she's safer there than just about anywhere, thanks to your need to protect me and Little Blip."

"True." Finally daring to turn and look at Ana, I'm immediately glad that I waited, because all thoughts are driven from my head by her beauty. She appears to be wearing only that pink Loretta Caponi nightdress, that I couldn't resist buying for her. The black lace trim on the bodice practically draws a map, accentuating the shape of her perfect breasts, and I am undone. "Fuck, me."

Her smile is serene when she says, "I was hoping you'd fuck me, but I'm open to suggestions."

It would be so easy to lose myself in her, but she needs to know. "Elena called earlier."

Everything about her immediately expresses outrage at those three words. "Oh?"

"She's being blackmailed, and doesn't want to involve the police."

Her face twisted in disgust, Ana asks, "Another teenager?"

It didn't go well when I reminded her earlier about managing stress, so I merely plead, "Ana."

She takes a shuddering breath, and says, "I know. I'm okay. What happens next?"

"As far as you and I are concerned, nothing. I've ordered Welch to look into it. And her current lover is twenty-six. I was the only teenager she ever fucked. For very different reasons, Elena avoided intimacy even longer than you did."

Ana silently mulls over that for a few seconds, and then asks, "She was abused too?"

"I won't go into the details, but yes. As you well know, trauma isn't the only reason people get into kink, but I imagine survivors are over-represented in the BDSM community." When she's again silent, and the time stretches on, I ask, "Baby?"

"I don't want to fuck right now."

"I assumed you wouldn't."

"But you told me anyway, because this didn't feel like something you should keep to yourself?"

"Yes."

When she holds out one elegant hand, as an invitation, I accept. She urges me to my feet, saying, "Come on, let's get you fed. The way I'm feeling right now, you'll need your energy later."

Given that I explained everything before leaving Escala, I'm surprised that Ethan calls me at work on Tuesday, so I ask, "Everything okay?"

"It is with me. This is a nice place, Ana. I just...how well do you know Mia?"

I smile, and tease, "You better not be messing with my future sister-in-law."

He laughs a little, and says, "Not that, though she is...anyway, you're aware what losers my sister has fallen for in the past. I know what too much makeup over a bruise looks like. My guess is that some fucker backhanded her across the face."

Is that why Mia needed to be away from her family for a few days? "Uh, shit...look, can I call you back later? Don't tell anyone else, okay?"

"Of course not. Any idea who might have done this?"

"Some. Don't go all white knight on her, okay? She's an adult."

"I'll try. No promises about not messing with her though. If she's an adult, she gets to decide that too."

Distressed as I am, it still makes me laugh. He was always good at doing that. "Fair enough. Thanks, for telling me. Still on for dinner tonight?"

"Absolutely. Oh, if Mia's healed enough by Friday, can I invite her to the welcome back drinks for Kate?"

I laugh again, and remind him, "Your sister is dating her brother. She's already invited."

"Oh, right. That feels kind of weird."

"Only if you actually mess with her. And I have to go."

He sounds a little unsettled when he says, "Yeah, okay. Bye."

Trying to work out the family tree of me and Christian, Kate and Elliot, plus Mia and Ethan proves distracting for a while, but I soon lose myself in work.

At my next tea break, I make Sawyer understand that I need some privacy, and call Mia, who answers, "Ana?"

"Hey. Ethan said he made it?"

"He did, and you might have warned me he's a bronzed, blonde hunk."

I laugh, and remind her, "How would I know that? Last time I could actually see him, he was a lanky teenager, with greasy hair and spots on his face."

"Well, he's most definitely not that now."

"I'll take your word for it. Found everything you need? I didn't actually end up unpacking much. There's nothing personal in the living room boxes, so feel free to open any of those."

"Thanks, but I'm fine." When the ensuing silence sounds loud, I hold my breath, praying that she'll trust me. "Ana, if I tell you something, could you keep it between us?"

I breathe, and ask, "Was it Sean, who hit you? I thought it odd when he suddenly wasn't there, on Saturday evening. Ethan noticed the bruise, and was worried enough to call me."

This silence is even louder, and then she says, "Yes, it was Sean. He got angry about me dancing with other guys at the ball, so I told him to fuck off. And it got worse when he asked me out again last night. The fucker seemed to think he owned me, after one date. Ethan must be observant. I mostly blocked the blow, so there's not much of a mark, and I thought that I covered it up pretty well."

"Unfortunately, Kate hasn't always been lucky with men either, so Ethan guessed what you were concealing. He won't say anything about it, unless you do. Like I said, he's a good guy." Presuming the main reason she wants it kept quiet, I add, "And I won't tell Christian."

I hear her relief, and she says, "Thank you. I'll never see Sean again, but I made a statement to the police, just in case he tries anything else, or hits some other girl. Christian would only make things worse by wading in, and me telling him that wouldn't stop him. I'm sure you already know what I mean."

Relieved that she seems so okay about it, I say, "Yeah. He keeps trying to make everything perfect for me, and he really needn't bother. Just being with him is enough for me."

"He told me how you two met. Hope I get that lucky one day. Life really is amazing sometimes, isn't it?"

"It really is. And I have to go. Oh, I can't do Thursday lunch, I'm sorry. A work thing has come up, in New York. Another time?"

"Of course. I'll see you Friday anyway. Thanks, for everything. It sort of already feels like you're my sister."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Your whole family have been so welcoming."

Heavy emotion in her voice, Mia says, "Ana, you don't understand...it was like pulling teeth to ever get a smile from him. Now, he smiles all the time. I don't know how to...just, thank you."

Blinking furiously, and hoping that none of my colleagues happen upon me while I'm trying not to weep, I complain, "Mia, I'm at work!"

She sobs a laugh, and says, "Sorry. Have fun in New York, though I'm sure Christian would caution against too much fun."

"Not this time. He's coming with me. And I have to go. Please stay safe, okay?"

She giggles, and says, "You're even starting to sound like one of my siblings. I'll see you Friday."

I've never thought that the images are anything other than my subconscious trying to make sense of the world, but a palm smashing down on a butterfly stays with me for quite a while.

As usual, an Audi is waiting outside UPP, when I finish work. I thank Sawyer for holding my door open, even as I get in. I'm about to greet Rose, when I realize there's someone in the back with me. "Christian?"

I'm on his lap, and he's kissing me. My senses are reeling when he eventually releases me, and purrs, "Hey, baby."

"Hey. Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?"

"You said that the Kavanagh male has decided to stay in and dine with Mia, so I thought we could pick up some Chinese takeout on the way, and surprise them."

Not good. "Christian, you know very well that his name is Ethan, and we can't just turn up without asking."

He puts me off his lap, reminding me, "Seatbelt," and then asks, "Why the fuck not?"

Because you'll notice the bruise, and I suspect that the presence of Vengeful Christian will be incompatible with dining. I use fastening my seatbelt as an excuse to gather my thoughts, and explain, "Because it's rude. As is refusing to use my friend's name."

"He's not fucking her, is he?"

Rose and Sawyer no doubt heard that, so I can't help the flush to my face, as I protest, "Christian, enough. That's none of our business."

"The fuck it isn't. She's my sister."

Some part of me warns against it, but I'm too upset to listen. "But she's not fifteen." And then I feel sick. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." Fuck. I'm seriously considering leaving the car, even though it's now moving. Instead, I rest a hand between us. The only sound is the privacy barrier closing, and I have to suppress an anxious giggle. Christian still hasn't accepted the offer of my hand, so I withdraw it, and attempt, "How about we still get takeout, and eat it at home?"

"I need to go for a walk. I'll meet you at Escala." When I hear the privacy barrier again, and he commands "Pull over," I know he's talking to Rose.

Fuck. "Are you angry?"

"Not with you."

Grateful for that small mercy, I plead, "You'll take Sawyer?"

"All right."

"Please don't be too long."

He surrenders enough to offer a reassuring pressure on my clasped hands, and then is gone. I'm gasping, in an effort to bring myself under control, when Rose asks, "Ana?"

"I'm okay. Just...does it get easier?"

"Relationships? I'll have to get back to you on that one. Escala?"

Christian will have told Gail not to bother cooking dinner. "Golden Dragon first, please."

"Ma'am."

When I finally make it home, it's to find Ana sitting on a sofa in the living room, her legs curled up beneath her, fast asleep, with a half empty noodle box in one hand, and chopsticks in the other. I can't resist taking a photo of that perfection. She must have fallen asleep practically mid-chew. Greene says that fatigue is normal, but it's still alarming. Ana opens her eyes when I pluck the meal from her hands, and I greet her, "Hey, sleepyhead."

"Hey." She blinks a few times, and rubs her eyes—God, she's adorable—and then asks, "How's Flynn?"

I sit down beside her, to explore the meal, as I say, "Grateful."

It takes her a few seconds to work it out, and she guesses, "To me?"

I'm already eating, but manage, "Mmm, hmm."

She leans her head on my shoulder, and affectionately accuses, "You stole my dinner." I pop a sliver of chicken between my teeth, and tilt her chin up, so that I can kiss her, while pushing the food into her mouth. She swallows it, and laughs, saying, "This is fun, but I'm not actually hungry. We're okay?"

"Yes. Didn't I say so?"

"You did. Thank you, for texting me. I was so worried."

I bother to kiss her again, and promise, "No need. Just a seismic shift, and not actually much to do with you. But I really am hungry. I'll explain later, okay?"

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Just exist. That's enough."

She sighs, and relaxes back against me, saying, "I can do that."

We're finally in bed, and Ana moves into my arms, as she asks, "So, what was this seismic shift?"

"You haven't guessed?"

I feel her smile against my shoulder, and she says, "Maybe. You saw an image of a teenage Mia, as a...in a playroom?"

"Yes. Not the red room, but something like it." I don't suppose I'll ever forget what Elena's room looks like...looked like. She's probably made changes over the years.

"And you understand now, that none of this was your fault?"

"You're so smart. Yes. Flynn, and others, have been telling me so for years. But I couldn't accept it, until you assaulted me with that image."

I feel her smile again, and she lies, "Sorry."

"I'm sure you were, at the time. I tried to stay calm, but I presume it didn't look like that from where you were sitting. It wasn't too stressful for you?"

"No. I was only worried for you. Thank you, for taking Sawyer, and for letting me know that you were with Flynn. That made it a lot easier."

"The text was Flynn's idea. I'm afraid that such consideration was beyond me at that point. Mostly, all I wanted to do was run, and keep on running, but whatever you're doing to me also makes me strong enough to face my fears."

"Whatever I'm doing to you?"

I chuckle at her apparent surprise, and remind her, "Baby, before you, I hadn't made much progress in more than a decade. Now, I seem to have a breakthrough every week."

Her voice is small, when she says, "I don't mean to change you."

I hold her closer, saying, "You're not. I'm just becoming me, without the worst aspects of my disorders."

"Okay, but I really do love your shades too."

"Yes, I know. That's the miracle. And my shades will always be with us, just no longer ruling me. It's funny how I always thought that I was in control, when every fucking choice I made was a symptom, and I couldn't even see it. From now on, I get to choose how to live my life. And I owe it all to you, Anastasia."

I feel her smile yet again, and she teases, "Actually, you owe it all to Kate."

I reach down to smack her butt, hard enough that she yelps, and her body presses into mine. "Wicked woman."

She lifts her head to look at me, and there's just enough light to see that her eyes are practically purple. I don't know why they look like that whenever she's aroused, but it's fascinating, and beautiful. She slips one hand between us, to encourage my erection, and vows, "Only for you, sir."

Wednesday evening, I'm waiting in the car for Ana outside UPP, and see Sawyer emerge first, his gaze constantly scanning the street. He's the youngest member of the team, but seems quite professional. I break protocol enough to exit the car. Ana and Wendy emerge next, apparently chatting. As they near, I greet them, "Evening, ladies."

Ana reaches for me, saying, "Wendy, I believe you've met my ridiculous fiancée."

It doesn't sting, not much anyway, given its accuracy. I welcome Ana into my embrace, as I protest, "Ridiculous?"

She kisses me, and amends, "Sorry, darling, I meant to say reasonable."

Wendy laughs, and says, "I don't think so, Ana." And then she extends her hand, saying, "Christian, it's good to see you again."

She sounds sincere. I shake her hand, and say, "Likewise. Traveling alone?"

She relinquishes her suitcase to Sawyer, and explains, "Yes. Jim can't get away."

I smile, and quip, "Tied up?" I wait until her mouth falls open in shock, before adding, "With work?"

Her eyes narrow, promising vengeance, but then she laughs, and comments, "I see his sense of humor is just as wicked as ever, Ana."

The look of pure love that Ana levels at me is enough to make my next breath tremble, and she says, "Yes, it is."

Unsure if my voice will hold steady, I merely gesture to the car. Wendy enters first, and we're soon underway, Ana resting her head on my shoulder, and one of her hands in both of mine. Determined that this trip should go well, if only so she won't hesitate to invite me next time, I suggest, "I know you ladies have prep work to do, so just go ahead, and pretend I'm not here, okay?"

Wendy says, "It can wait. Now we're all alone, I want to know how this..." She gestures to both of us. "Works."

Ana tenses, and I squeeze her hand in reassurance, saying, "Just the touching thing, baby."

"Oh."

I take a deep breath, and tell Wendy, "Decades of therapy, and one stubborn brunette."

Ana protests, "Stubborn?"

"Did I say it was you, Ana? I've known a lot of stubborn brunettes."

Her delicate fingers attempt an assault on my ribs, so I snare the offending hand—I've not yet found the courage to tell her I can't stand to be tickled—and kiss it in apology. "Yes, you. Only you. Anyone less stubborn would have given up on me long ago."

"True." After a deep sigh, Ana continues, "How long 'til the airport?"

She's tired again. I put an arm around her, and welcome her into an embrace, as I command, "Long enough."

I caress her back, until I'm certain she's asleep. It doesn't take long, and I make a mental note to check with Greene. Ana is on supplements, but this is starting to look like anemia. When I then meet Wendy's gaze, she's shrewdly examining us, and mouths a word. I can't make it out, though I suspect. Sure enough, when I frown in confusion, she mimes an extension to her belly, one that might accommodate a baby. It's obvious she and Ana have quickly formed a bond, and nothing suggests that the Wendy before me is any less honorable than the young woman I knew as "Kat". So I don't hesitate long to nod the truth. She smiles, and gives me a thumbs-up, and then mimes locking her lips. And I relax, for the first time all day.

On the plane, Natalia gives us enough time to settle in, and then serves dinner. I'd been so nervous about meeting Wendy again, but it's actually quite pleasant. I no longer feel anything for her, but snapshots of what we shared occasionally flash through my mind. And I find myself idly wondering if she might have been the one to bulldoze into my life, if things had been different. Almost as I have that thought, Ana laughs at something said, and I remember that no other woman could ever make me feel like this. Every breath from her body is a delight to me.

Once Natalia has cleared, I announce, "Well, I'll go get some work done, and let you ladies do the same."

Ana asks, "Go?"

Oh, right, she hasn't had a tour yet. "The bedroom. There's a desk in there." When her face lights up, and she squirms, I know that it's not the word "desk" that's turned her on. For some reason, one of Elliot's favorite sayings pops into my head, and I kiss her, before saying, "Laters, baby." Her giggle is my reward.